First off, the obligatory I-do-not-own-The-Sound-Of-Music-but-damn-I-wish-I-did disclaimer.
Here goes nothing...
1945, America
Kurt chewed absentmindedly chewed on his straw, sucking up the remnants of his milkshake while trying to concentrate on his text in the noisy diner. Two years of tutoring from next-door neighbours and several black eyes on the playground had quickly made a proficient English speaker and reader out of Kurt. Now, seven years after he had left Austria, he sounded and looked the classic all American boy. Kurt flipped the pages around, shaking his head. He abruptly turned around and tapped the boy sitting in the booth next to him on the shoulder.
"Andy, I give up. Can you ask Stuart if he can lend me his comic version?"
"Not a chance, I've asked--"
" Hell no," cut in another of his friends, " I'm going to be needing that for the rest of the week if I want to pass this course!"
Kurt sighed and turned pleadingly to the girl sitting next to his two friends. "Say, Julia, can I borrow your notes from last--"
Right about then they heard the overlapping, scattered voices in the diner turning into alternating waves of "Shush!" and "Turn the volume up!" The noise quickly died down. Not a scrape of a knife was heard. Kurt and Andy exchanged excited yet uncertain glances at each other and the other customers as everyone strained to hear the announcement coming from the crackling radio in the corner of the room.
"... over. I repeat, once again... the war... is over."
Everyone continued staring at each other in stunned silence for a few more seconds.
Then the entire diner erupted into cheers.
Complete strangers hugged, kissed and danced together. Kurt and his friends joined in the whooping and cheering.
Abruptly he stopped, as though suddenly having remembered something. " Hey Andy... guys... I've got to get home."
Then he turned and ran, and didn't stop till he got home to his family.
The door was wide open. He was first greeted by the sight of Gretl and Marta with a few friends they had over, screaming and dancing around. Watching them, happy and teary-eyed, were Brigitta and Louisa. In the sofa in the corner, Liesl rested her head against her boyfriend Nick's shoulder. He heard loud, rapid footsteps behind him and saw Friedrich tearing up the front path. Friedrich practically slammed into Kurt, enveloping him in what was a cross between a hug and a headlock. " It's over, Kurt," he said, slapping him on the back. "Can you believe that?"
They stumbled into the living room, and saw a tall, sturdy figure emerging in the hallway from the study. The figure surveyed the ecstatic faces cavorting about the living room.
"Thank God," the former Captain von Trapp said simply. " Thank God it's all over."
That evening Georg spent most of the time in the hallway next to the telephone, his children anxiously crowding around him. It was an almost impossible task to get through to anyone. The phone lines were jammed, millions of people desperately trying to reach out to the people they loved on the other side of the Atlantic.
"Yes, yes... I understand... well, by telegram... right-- Marta, Gretl, please stop crowding me..." eventually he got cut off again and hung up.
"We are going back, aren't we?" were Friedrich's first words.
"Oh no, not quite so soon, it would be impossible to get.. home... for at least a few months. I'm trying to find out how we can reach everyone back home in Salzburg..." he paused. "You know, Frau Schmidt... Herr Schneider..."
"And Fraulein Maria?" almost all seven voices chorused in startling unison, surprising even themselves. They hadn't talked about her in a while.
" Wha--?" Georg turned pale. "Ah-- uhh.." he fumbled for words, running his hand over his face. Brigitta looked at him suspiciously.
"Why yes of course, your little Fraulein! How could I have forgotten! Well-- look-- everything's a huge mess right now, everyone's trying to call. I'm going to try to send out a telegram first thing tomorrow, all right?" His children nodded, although they peered at their father's face as though wanting to ask him something, the one thing they wanted to know about their last night in Austria, but not daring to.
Austria, 1938
"Don't panic. He's by himself, I think, he can't do much, might not even be on patrol... " Max whispered as their car slowly pulled up towards a lone Nazi on the otherwise deserted street.
"You do the talking, Max." said the Captain.
"Who else?"
Gretl whimpered and Maria pulled her tightly to her. Max glanced at her with admiration and sympathy, this young woman who had just chosen to give up her simple. sheltered life, the hills she loved, to accompany her employer's seven children to a different country, a world away. The Nazi started towards them and signalled for them to stop. He came towards the side, and peered into the car.
"What are you doing out here so late?"
" Wedding tomorrow, sir. Big day. We were supposed to be at our cousin's place in time for supper but the little one threw our plans into disarray... eh?" he turned around and gave Gretl a wink.
The young man gave no reply and continued looking over the occupants of the back seat, as if to check for any stowaways. Maria tried not to stare, giving a short, cordial nod instead before looking away.
"Where is this wedding?"
Max, of course, had the details worked out. Satisfied, the Nazi stepped in front of the car, signalling to them to reverse. He watched them, his face inscrutable.
Then without warning, a flicker of recognition crossed his face. His expression changed in a second. " Captain von Trapp!"
"Oh help..." whispered Liesl. Maria turned to the seven young charges she had come to love so much, trying to give them a calm, reassuring nod, although her own stomach lurched in terror.
"Stop the car immediately! Immediately!" he pulled out a whistle.
"Go, go, go!" hissed Georg. Max put his foot on the accelerator. The car lurched forward. In almost the same instant the Nazi put down his whistle, drew out a gun and aimed.
" Get down!" someone screamed.
In that awful moment in between Georg, the older children instinctively pressed their bodies as flat against the seats as possible. Marta and Gretl, in their panic, got up instead. Maria grabbed them and pushed them onto the floorboards.
A split second later the windscreen shattered.
Max, ducking the flying glass, floored the vehicle and swerved out of the way, brushing against the Nazi and knocking him to the floor.
The next few minutes were complete chaos and confusion as Max, trying desperately to lose their trail, weaved in and out of twisted, unfamiliar streets, and then onto bumpy country road, the car now a dangerous swirling repository of broken glass.
Finally, they came to a halt in the middle of the countryside, deserted save for one or two cottages which lights they could see in the distance. They parked near a clump of trees.
" Everyone all right?" the Captain asked as he gingerly got down, opened the side door and slowly helped the children out one by one. Most of them were softly groaning in pain; but as far as he could tell, at least none of them had been badly cut. They slowly stumbled several feet away from the car and tried to brush glass bits from their clothes. Maria still sat in the car. She didn't move. A chill went right through his spine.
"Fraulein... are you all right... did you.. get cut?" Georg carefully eased himself into the car to check her for any injuries. He lit his cigarette lighter. Her face was ashen, her eyes were tight shut, her mouth drawn in a thin line. She sat stiffly in her seat. No, no glass had touched her neck... he opened her thick, rough coat-- and felt the dreaded warm liquid oozing out of her. He saw a crimson red spreading all over her blouse, torn by a bullet sized hole, pooling at a spot just below her chest. Georg drew in his breath sharply. He looked over at his children. They were still trying to shake glass bits out of their coats, too far away to see what was happening.
"Max? Max!"
Max hurried over. Georg lost no time in explaining the situation to him. "... take the children first. Don't let them know about the gunshot wound. Just say, if you must, that she got hurt. I'll try to get help from the nearest house..." They made their plans as quickly as possible, trying not to alarm the children, who by now were starting to stare and wonder. As Liesl started to walk towards the car Georg signalled for her to stop. Georg clapped his hand on Max's shoulder and shook it, conveying his thanks silently. Max nodded in perfect understanding and walked towards the children. Georg quickly but carefully lifted Maria into his arms. He felt a spasm run through her body. He quickly carried her in the direction of the nearest cottage.