Chapter 20: Confession
"I have something I need to show you."
Wolfgang crouched in the bushes, waiting. He pressed the button on his watch, illuminating the dial in the darkness. He had only been here five minutes. He'd give him another ten.
When Wolfgang's watch showed that the requisite amount of time had passed and rose and walked to the doors. They were a pair of large heavy wooden doors, each carved with an ornate cross on the center. He tried to open them, but they were locked and whe knocked it was useless. The doors were too heavy. Wolfgang pulled his hand back and rubbed his knuckles. Next to the doorway, on either side was a pair of leaded glass windows. Wolfgang peeked through and could see the inside quite clearly, which made sense; that was how he had gotten in. He rapped on the window. A moment later he heard the grating of the bolt sliding back and one of the doors opened.
"Can't a guy get a minute alone around here?" Kurt asked, peeking out from the darkness.
"I gave you fifteen." Wolfgang said. "What are you doing?"
Kurt glanced back into the dim interior. "What do you think I'm doing?"
Wolfgang gave a short laugh. "Okay, it was a dumb question. Can I come in?"
Kurt shrugged. "It's not my church." He said and stepped aside so Wolfgang could enter. Once they were both inside he shut the door and slid the bolt back. Without inviting Wolfgang to join him, Kurt returned to the pew where he had been sitting and picked up his rosary.
"Why do you always sneak into churches at night anyway?" Wolfgang asked, his voice echoing in the empty space. He sat down at the pew in front of Kurt and turned around to face him.
Kurt frowned and looped his rosary back on his belt. It was obvious that as long as Wolfgang was here, prayer time was over. "Because I can't exactly visit during the day now can I?"
"I guess not." Wolfgang said. He glanced around the room. Kurt had lit a single votive at the far end. The rest of the light was provided by the moonlight that came through the windows. "It's kind of nice." He said. "Maybe having the place all to yourself makes up for not being able to visit during the day."
"It doesn't."
"And yet you continue to love a God whose subjects won't let you into their houses of worship. Why is that?"
"I don't know. I just do. I have to." Kurt said.
"Have to? What do you mean you have to?" Wolfgang asked.
Kurt sighed. "It's because of who I am."
Wolfgang sat up a little straighter. "This is the second time you've said something like that to me. You don't honestly believe that you're some kind of demon do you? You know that's horseshit right?"
"Wolfgang!" Kurt admonished through gritted teeth.
"Sorry." Wolfgang said sheepishly. "But the question still applies."
Kurt sighed. "I… No, I don't. It's complicated."
Wolfgang was silent long enough for Kurt to resume saying the rosary.
"Do you know that I'm Jewish." Wolfgang announced. Kurt looked up mid-sentence.
"No. I didn't know that." He said.
Wolfgang nodded. "I am. My whole family is. Or they were." Kurt looked confused, but said nothing. Wolfgang continued. "You see in the beginning, Germany and Austria simply wanted the Jews out. And my family was more than happy to leave. Except no country wanted to take any of the expelled Jews in. So there was nowhere they could go."
"I'm sorry." Kurt said.
"It's so much easier to hide when you change your name and deny your faith." Wolfgang continued. "Wagner isn't a Jewish name and we didn't fit the Jewish stereotype. Plus, my grandparents had a bit of money to throw around; they actually helped support the Nazi party. Can you believe that?
"My grandfather always told me it was better than dying. I don't know if I agree. None of them go to synagogue anymore. Sometimes I think more got changed than our name."
"What was your family's real name?" Kurt asked.
Wolfgang shook his head sadly. " They won't tell me." He said. "And they destroyed all the old family records, photo albums, letters, everything and anything that would connect us to our heritage. We have so many secrets that we don't even know what they are anymore."
"I guess I fit right in then. My birth certificate was doctored by your family as well."
Wolfgang laughed. "Some legacy." He said. He glanced back at the candle Kurt had lit, still burning in its glass at the back of the church. "What did you light that for?" He asked.
"To say thank you." Kurt said.
"For what?"
"For reminding me why I'm here." Kurt said. Wolfgang looked quizzical. "It's hard to understand, but sometimes I feel like I'm some kind of cosmic practical joke. God must have made me me for a reason. If He didn't, then what a horrible thing to do to someone. Every time I start leaning towards the joke theory, I get reminded that it's good to be different. That I'm me for a reason."
"You're talking about the accident, about saving Margali and Amanda from the van." Wolfgang said.
Kurt nodded his head. "It just makes it worth it, you know?"
Wolfgang nodded. "I do. Why do you keep it a secret then?"
Kurt sighed. "I don't know." He said. "It scares me sometimes."
"But you told me." Wolfgang said.
"I had to tell someone. I trusted you. And I knew that you wouldn't draw any conclusions about me because you never have."
"You should tell Margali." Wolfgang said. "She cares a lot about you. Maybe more than you know. You should trust her too." He stood up and turned to leave.
"Why did you tell me that thing about your family?" Kurt asked.
"Because some things shouldn't be secrets." Wolfgang said.
Kurt sat on the lowest seat of the stands. He had a CO-2 fire extinguisher next to him with the pin pulled. He spun the pin lazily on one finger as he watched.
Circus Gehlhaar's fire act was Kurt's favorite. It was the most foreign to him, the most removed from anything he knew. Even though he performed as an aerialist, he understood and could even do most of the other acts. But the same attributes that made him such an excellent acrobat made him completely unsuitable for an act that involved manipulating things on fire. That was why he offered to be their fire-watch whenever he could. That way he could sit on the sidelines and watch with the presumption that should one of them actually catch fire, he could come and put them out. His services had so far remained unnecessary.
Fire knife dancing was a cultural art form created in New Zealand by the Maori tribes. It was a competitive dance when performed by men, and a story telling ritual when performed by women. The Maori used a variety of implements when dancing with fire. There were "poi", wicks held on chains with one looped in each hand. The flaming poi were then spun around the body in a variety of arcs and patterns. Kurt had never seen or heard any thing like it. The sound of fire moving through the air as it was spun was unbelievably loud, a great rushing sound like a giant wave or a gust of strong wind. In New Zealand the fire knife proper was a real bush knife on a two feet long handle wrapped in fuel soaked cotton on both ends with the knife end slightly longer than the butt end. It was then spun and twirled with amazing speed and dexterity. Fire knives for circus performance were much more refined. Instead of real knives, the ends were made from strong Kevlar wicks. They held the fuel better and since cotton had a tendency to fling bits of itself in the air as it burned, were much safer for the audience and the performer.
Feuer Langhagen was a German fire breather who had lived among the Maori for five years learning their arts. When he returned to Germany he brought two companions back with him. Tipene Black, whom everyone referred to as "Kiwi" and his eight year old son Amiri. The three of them had been with Circus Gehlhaar for three years and got nearly as much attention as Kurt did. Plus now that Amiri was older, he was ready to become a performer as well.
Kurt was watching Kiwi showing Amiri a new double staff trick. The double staff was probably the most difficult fire tool other than the meteors which, quite frankly, scared the hell out of everyone but Kiwi. Each staff was roughly two feet long with a wick on each end. That meant that there were four separate fire elements that the performer had to keep track of and unless the performer was very ambidextrous, the twirling staffs looked lopsided. Kiwi was amazing with the double staffs. Amiri was still learning the ropes.
Kurt had his eyes on Amiri when Margali sat down next to him.
"Do you have a moment?" She asked.
"I'm their watch." Kurt said gesturing at the fire extinguisher. "I can't go anywhere."
"But you can talk right?"
"Yeah. I can talk. Why?" Kurt asked, but he knew what was coming. Margali had been hounding him about the accident for a week now.
"How did all three of us get out of the van at the same time?" She asked.
" Not this again," Kurt said, "I told you. We fell out."
"But it was going over the cliff."
"We fell out before it went over."
"And the door. It was closed."
"It opened when I pushed you."
"But you pushed me towards the driver's side. There was no door on the driver's side."
"I think we might have slid to the passenger side before we fell out." Kurt said.
"At what point did you unbuckle my seat belt then?"
Kurt, who'd been answering Margali's questions with his usual well rehearsed responses, paused. Margali had never asked him that before. "You were wearing a seat belt?" He asked. He hadn't realized.
"Yes. Did that come off when you pushed me too?" She asked.
Kurt stared straight ahead, saying nothing. "I don't know." He said at last without taking his eyes off Amiri and Kiwi as they worked.
"You did something Kurt, I know you did." Margali cried. "Why won't you tell me? Why was Amanda sick? Why were you unconscious? What happened to us?"
"I was unconscious because I had just fallen out of a van going 60 kilometers an hour. I don't know why Amanda was sick." Kurt said still refusing to look at her. Normally he would have stormed off in a huff at this point, but he was tied to his seat by his responsibility to Kiwi and Amiri. Thankfully Margali stood up.
"Maybe one day you'll feel like sharing." She said and left.
Kurt sighed and put his chin his hands. Why wouldn't he tell her? After all Margali had never treated him differently than her own children. Didn't he owe her the truth? She had saved his life once after all. Perhaps it was that his appearance coupled with the fact that he could now disappear and reappear in a burst of sulfury smelling smoke made even him suspicious. And that didn't even include that strange man who had called himself his father who could do the same thing. The man whose sigil Kurt had since learned designated him as the demon Azazel. Those weren't the kind of things you told just anybody.
Kiwi dropped the two staffs on the floor and threw a piece of fireproof duveteen cloth over them. A moment later smoke issued from the cloth as the flames were extinguished. The three performers started packing up so Kurt slid the pin back into the fire extinguisher and carried it over.
"Thanks." Kiwi said and put it back in the box. "Amiri's getting pretty good huh?"
Kurt nodded and smiled at the boy. He liked Kiwi and Amiri. It wasn't just the fact that they were nice people; it was that they had something in common. It was customary in Maori culture to tattoo intricate patterns onto their faces and bodies. The patterns were meant to ward off evil spirits and in New Zealand Kurt doubted people paid them any mind. But in Europe their dark tattooed faces made them look utterly exotic, even menacing. Kurt had noticed that most people tended to shy away from them, sometimes fearfully. It was something he'd experienced nearly all his life and it was nice to know that he wasn't the only one dealing with the superficial judgment of a society that refused to look past exteriors and see what was truly inside.
Kurt started to follow them, but Feuer held him back.
"I heard you talking to Margali." He said. Kurt said nothing.
"Why don't you answer her question?" Feuer asked.
"I am answering her questions. But it seems that she doesn't like the answers." Kurt said.
"That's because you're a terrible liar." Feuer picked up a small bottle of fuel and a lighter. "The tools of the trade." He said. "Without them our act wouldn't be much of an attraction would it?"
"No. I guess not." Kurt said.
Feuer looked at the bottle of fuel. "A necessity it would seem. As anyone who works with fire knows, a fire breather doesn't breathe fire at all; they blow the fuel out of their mouth and ignite it with a match."
"I… I know. You showed me once." Kurt said.
"Thisty?" Feuer tossed the bottle to him. "Have some."
Kurt stared at his friend wide eyed. "Are you crazy? I can't drink lamp oil!"
"Smell it."
Kurt opened the bottle and sniffed it tentatively. They had illuminated the interior of their van with oil lamps for years and he knew its scent well. But this didn't smell like lamp oil. It didn't smell like anything.
"What is it?" Kurt asked.
"Try it. It won't hurt you." Feuer said.
Still looking at the man like he was crazy, Kurt took a small sip, ready to spit it out immediately. He held it in his mouth and was so surprised that he spit it out anyway. "It's water?"
"That it is." Feuer agreed.
"How is that possible? I mean, wouldn't you blow out the match?"
"It's water because most fire breathers are really fuel blowers. But not all of them." Feuer walked a few steps away. "Let me show you something else." Feuer took a deep breath and when he opened his mouth and exhaled it came out as a great plume of fire. Kurt jumped back in surprise. It was the same thing that Feuer did as part of his act but this time Kurt was holding the fuel bottle and there wasn't a match.
"You're not the only one here with gifts." Feuer said. He took the bottle back. "But I can't do my act like I just did. People don't like what they can't understand. So I use a few props and nobody knows that I'm simply doing what comes naturally to me."
"I didn't know." Kurt said.
"That's because I hadn't told you yet. Now you know. Kiwi knows. So does Amiri. In fact their whole tribe knows. For a people that use fire to tell their stories I was like a God. But here in Europe I'm an aberration, a freak."
"Why did you come back?" Kurt asked.
"Because this is where I belong just like it's where you belong."
Kurt thought about this for a moment. Feuer was right of course. He hadn't even realized that being so different from everyone else was anything but a good thing until he was eight. And even now that he'd seen how most of the world was reacted to him; he still wasn't convinced that it wasn't a good thing.
"Keep your secrets from the audience Kurt." Feuer said. "Don't keep them from your friends, your family. Whatever it is, tell Margali what she needs to know."
Feuer put the rest of the props into their box and heaved it off the ground. "Think about what's important." He said and walked out of the tent leaving Kurt standing alone with only his thoughts.
Margali was sitting alone like she often did. It was nice to get away sometimes even if it just meant sitting one of their picnic tables by herself and looking at the sky. She was a non-performer surrounded by people with larger than life personalities all day. A few moments of silence in the evening was all she needed to recharge. There was a rustle behind her and Margali turned around. Kurt was standing there with his hands in his pockets.
"Mom." He said. "I have something I need to show you."
Author's note: A word on the blatant recycling of characters
When possible, I find it fun to include characters that appear in the comic books. Sometimes this is to tell the story like with Azazel and other times a character just fits in perfectly. I had planned on having a family of Maori fire performers and when I read the Draco I found there was already a Maori character in the canon. How convenient. Kiwi Black is about as un-Maori a name as you can find by the way. Amiri and Tipene are real Maori names. I later came across the Feuer Langhagen character and it just made sense to put the three of them together. It's not important to have Kiwi and Kurt related in this so I don't even deal with it. If you want Kiwi Black to be Kurt's long lost brother, that's cool with me. Otherwise he's just a guy from New Zealand.
