Chapter One

He had to get away. He didn't care where he went as long as it was somewhere he had never been before, somewhere he wouldn't be reminded of her everywhere he looked. It was bad enough when he was alone, his thoughts and dreams flooded with the memories of a beautiful life that no longer existed. But then the children returned from their long stay with their grandparents and he had to comfort them, too. It was impossible. They looked to him with her eyes and it was like someone took the knife out of his heart and plunged it back in deeper.

Captain Von Trapp threw a few belongings in a small valise and left a few vague instructions for his staff while he was gone. He didn't indicate where he was going or how long he'd be gone. If the children asked, they were to be told he had business.

"Georg," his friend Max Detweiler tried to reason with him. "You shouldn't be alone, not now. Wait a few days and come with me to Vienna. I am going to scout a new musical group there. We'll take care of business and then blow off some steam."

"Being alone is precisely what I want, Max," the Captain replied with an edge, filling his billfold with extra cash and shoving it deep into his overcoat pocket. "I don't want to blow off steam, I don't want to go to Vienna, and I most certainly do not want to listen to music. I just want to be as far from anything that reminds me of her. That includes you." He breezed out of his study and marched quickly toward the front door.

"At least let me take you to the station," Max grasped for one last chance to keep his friend from bolting like a bat out of hell.

"I called a cab," he mumbled as he walked through the door. "Good bye."

He reached the station and bought a ticket for the first train that would take him west. Any other direction would lead to places that were too familiar or would require him to wait too long. He boarded immediately after wading through scores of people huddled for final good byes. He was sure all of them were couples professing affection and sadness upon departing. It made his stomach turn.

He was the only one when he settled into a compartment. He threw his case and coat onto the storage rack and sat down. His solitude was short lived. The train whistle blew and a young couple joined him. He tried not to watch them sit too close to each other. He looked away when they bent their heads together to whisper secrets that caused them to laugh too loud. He moaned disapprovingly when they started to kiss, but looked away when he realized they didn't care what he thought.

He watched the buildings as they slowly passed by at first, then faster until each structure flew across his field of vision like a slow flash. The browns and grays of the city slowly melted into blues and greens. The rhythm of the train lulled him into a drowsy trance and he watched the light rain gather on the window and trickle down the glass and out of view. He got lost in the patterns of sight and sound, unaware that they were only taking him to a sleepy place and eventually dreams of her.

He dreamed he was in a large house with many rooms. There was music playing gaily from somewhere and he was roaming through the halls trying to find it. Each door he opened only led to empty rooms. The sound of each step he took echoed off bare walls. He caught glimpses of someone when he would turn around, someone who dodged out of his vision, laughing at him, not in a cruel way but playfully. There are so many doors, he thought to himself in the dream, if she would only stop and wait for me…

Slowly the music became discordant, louder and more frantic. The voice stopped laughing and called his name. He started to run after it, but the more he searched the fainter the voice became, mixing with the harsh, grating sound of the instruments. His sense of urgency mounted. He was running out of time. He needed to find her. He called to her.

"Wait! Don't go!" he screamed, his eyes opening. The couple sitting across from him stared at him.

"You look like you saw a ghost, friend," the young man joked sympathetically. "Must have been some dream." The girl shook him by the arm, warning him to mind his business.

"Yes," Georg muttered. He wasn't wrong on either count, but it didn't make it any gentler to hear him say it in words. He looked out the window at the expanse of hills and mountains. "Where do you suppose we are?"

"Oh, another half hour and we'll be to Innsbruck," the man guessed and then turned his attention back to his girl. They didn't seem to care how long it took as long as they got there together. Georg watched them completely forget he was there again, fingers intertwining and lips reaching for each other. He felt something rising in his gut at the whole sight of it. He looked away but didn't want to close his eyes, not if it meant returning to sleep and to that blasted dream…

He stood up and reached for the narrow door of the compartment. There had to be a drinking car somewhere. He didn't really care as long as he could be anywhere else.

"Sorry to chase you off," the girl said, giggling. "We'll behave when you get back." Georg simply shot her a scathing glare and left. He thought that if his daughter behaved like that with a boy in public, she would be spending the rest of her life in a convent.

He looked up and down the train aisles deciding which way to start walking. Seeing movement toward the back of the train, he pointed himself there and forced his legs to move. The jerking motion of the train unsteadied him. His sea legs always proved to be useless on a moving train. Agathe used to point out the similarity in motion but he knew it was completely different. He couldn't believe the simple act of walking on a train made him think of her.

He finally found what he needed. A tired looking man stood at the bar with his arms folded over his chest, waiting for someone to ask for something. He straightened himself when the Captain entered and stood up to the counter.

"Scotch," he said, shaking his head when asked if he wanted water with it. He took the drink and wasted no time. He reached inside his jacket and winced. "I left my billfold in my overcoat. My compartment is a few cars back." He hated to think what he would interrupt if he went back for it just yet.

"You'll get it later," the bartender replied with understanding. "I'll keep a tally."

"A tally, huh? You read me too well. Might as well start pouring another," Georg muttered with a snide laugh. He liked this man. He seemed to understand everything and said nothing to try and make him feel better.

He turned to look around the car. There was no one around. Of course not, he told himself. Who starts drinking at ten o'clock in the morning? He did. Suddenly his loneliness seemed even more profound.

Suddenly the train lurched forward and then backward. Georg released the glass in his hand and put both hands on the bar.

"What's this?" the bartender exclaimed, struggling to upright the bottle he was pouring.

The sound of the wheels churning along the rail ceased for a few moments and the car felt like it was floating in the air. The sound of crunching metal sounded like the roar of some ancient monster waking from its cave, creeping slowly from the front of the train and making its way toward them. In an instant, Georg felt the train slam to the ground with a bang, the bar quickly rolling and tilting at sharp downward angle.

He hit the floor with incredible force, the air in his lungs being punched out of his body. He tried to brace his legs and arms to keep from moving, but he slid the length of the car until he was plastered against the door at the end. Tables and chair tumbled toward him like a giant wave. There was nothing he could do to stop them from coming.

Then it all stopped in quiet darkness.