Author's Note: Greetings again! I'm glad you survived the first chapter. I must point out that the first couple of chapters are longer than most of the chapters I write in my stories.

I see your rainbow rising, rainbow rising.
Look there, on the horizon,
oh no, who's rising.
And I'm coming home.
I'm coming home.
I'm coming home—

"Stargazer"—Rainbow

Seuche in Deutschland

Chapter II

The date was 05 December 1823. Lysander returned to Romania the evening before, but on this early afternoon he relaxed with his brother in the tree that they shared as children.

"This is good beer, Sander," Alcander commented on the St. Pauli Girl. "Thanks for bringing this back with you."

"You're welcome, but you know that I'm going to watch how much you drink."

"…Why?"

"Because I hear reports from my wife that you drink too much."

Alcander shrugged. "I already have one mother, I don't need another one."

"But you must be doing something that concerns Mom and Dad. Otherwise, Dana would've never known anything about this."

"Mom and Dad worry too much. It's all because I'm the youngest. I may be eighteen, but it doesn't matter. I'm still 'little Cander' to them."

Lysander chuckled. "Be serious with me, Cander. How much beer do you drink a day?"

"…About seven or eight."

"And you don't think that's too much?"

"No."

"It's more than what most people drink. I've maybe three beers a day, if I drink at all that is."

"Well good for you."

"So why're you drinking seven or eight?"

"Because I've nothing better to do."

"Maybe you should find a job."

"School's my job…Could we please change the subject? You're beginning to sound like Mom!"

Lysander chuckled again. "All right then, Cander. Maybe I should say it's been a while since I've seen you."

"Or since you've sat with me in this tree."

Lysander paused, and smiled.

"What is it, Sander?"

"I was thinking about the past."

"The past?"

"Yes, I was thinking about the first time I climbed into this tree."

"When was that?"

"It was when I was four, and you were Sophia's age—still running around in your diapers, and being an annoying little shit to me."

Alcander glared; he hated to hear stories about him at that age.

"I was trying to get away from you, and you were trying to catch me. And it just so happens that I was big enough—with the help of a rock—to climb onto this tree branch."

Alcander smirked. "Had to poke fun at me, didn't you, Sander?"

Lysander chuckled once again. "Well, would it make you feel better if I told you that after I climbed in this tree that I became scared and started to cry, and Mom had to come and get me down?"

Alcander smiled. "It wouldn't hurt any."

Lysander returned the smile. "Thought you'd say that—anyway, I can remember that Mom told me that if I had played with my little brother—like I was supposed to—I never would've climbed into this tree and became scared…But enough family stories, there's something else I want to ask you."

"And that is?"

"Jessica."

"Jessica? What about Jessica?"

"What do you think of her?"

"What do you mean, 'what do I think of her?'"

"When I was in Prussia, I asked Dana about you; and in one of her letters back to me, she told me that she thought you still loved Jessica."

"I think you wife should spend more time taking care of my niece than worrying about my private life… I don't know. Our relationship ended…I guess it was four months ago, but yet, at the same time we were with each other for so long. I mean, I've seen other girls since then…but none of them've ever quite filled the place of Jessica."

"She was the first girl you ever loved, wasn't she?"

"…Definitely."

"Maybe you should reconcile with her?"

"…I don't know. There's a reason why we're not together."

"And that is?"

"Because she nags at me too much. I felt as though I was dating Mom! When I started having more than three beers a day she thought I was becoming a drunk…"

"Maybe you are."

Alcander gave his brother a look. "Whatever, 'Mom.'"

Lysander laughed. "Well, in any case, we should probably start getting ready."

"Ready for what?"

"We're all going out tonight, remember?"

"Oh, that's right, to the theater! …But wait, who's going to look after Sophia?"

"Grandma and Grandpa'll watch her. And you're right about the theater. Dad wants to see the performance of Mozart's Requiem, since today's the anniversary of his death."

"I hope it won't be boring."

Lysander chuckled for the final time. "Trust me, it won't be. I heard some of Mozart's music when I was in Prussia. The man was a musical genius!"

"…Well, I guess I'll find out then."

The next day, Lysander celebrated his birthday surrounded by family and friends. And the following day, Lysander relaxed at his home that was built on his parents' property, and played with his daughter.

When Dana entered the master room, she smiled. On the couch sat Lysander with Sophia against his chest. She purred like a kitten—a trait inherited from her father. Dana kissed both husband and daughter, and sat beside them.

"You received a letter today from Bonn," she said.

"From Bonn? …I don't know anyone from Bonn."

"It's from a Luther Porges."

"I know a Luther Porges…But he's from Berlin. I gave him my address here before I left…But I've no idea why he'd write from Bonn."

"Well, here it is," Dana replied, while she handed him the letter, and took Sophia from his arms. "I'm going to put the baby in her crib for a while, since she's about to go to sleep. It'll be easier for you to read that letter if she's off your lap."

04 December 1823

Greetings Lysander,

Let me begin this letter with an apology. I'm sorry that I did not write to you sooner. By the time you receive this I'm sure that your birthday has already passed, so happy belated 20th birthday, my friend!

Quite a lot has happened in Berlin since you left. In fact, it was happening while you were here. Apparently, Berlin had a case of the Black Plague, which should explain why I'm writing from Bonn.

I'm sure that you're probably wondering why you never heard anything about this when you were in Berlin? Well, it happened in the northern part of the city. And since you're not an expert on Berlin, that's the part of the city where there's a Jewish ghetto, and where poverty and crime are high. Basically, what happens in that part of the city doesn't reach the ears of people from other parts of the city.

When the news reached me, I decided to leave the city for a while; and I'll just wait until the situation dies down.

Take care, my friend,

Luther

07 December 1823

Greetings Luther,

Thanks for the belated birthday message, but my birthday was nothing that special—a simple gathering with family and friends.

Your last letter, however, shocks me more than anything. The Black Plague in this day and age? It simply doesn't make sense. How are they certain it's actually the Plague?

Take care,

Lysander

12 December 1823

Greetings once again, Lysander,

Thank you for such a quick response back to me. I must confess that the information I received over the accounts in Berlin were second hand. I did not bother to visit the northern part of Berlin myself; and at the same time, why would I? Granted, the information could have been incorrect, but I did not want to visit an area that may've been affected by the Plague and receive the Plague myself!

But to answer your question, I was informed that the victims appeared to have all the life drained out of them, suffered for a few days, and received the bite of an animal—presumably a rat.

All I know is that I hope this is taken care of quickly, so I can return home. If not, perhaps I should visit you in Romania?

Take care,

Luther

16 December 1823

Hello again, Luther,

I must confess that I'm not an expert on medicine or diseases, but from what I remember in my History courses, what you have described for me is not the Black Plague. The Black Plague—if I remember correctly—receives its name from the black splotches found on its victims. Plus, I don't remember victims lingering for a few days, but rather for a few hours—at least no more than twenty-four.

Since you are not in Berlin at the moment, I believe that I'm going to write a letter one of the magistrates of Prince Fredrick William III that I befriended in Berlin—Ingo Langheinrch. He can give me some primary information.

Furthermore, absolutely—come to Romania! My wife and I would love for you to visit for a few days, and you could see my daughter that I talked so much about in Berlin.

Well, in closing, I would like to wish you a Merry Christmas. I remember that before I left the city Christmas decorations and Nativity scenes were being placed in shop windows. So, I know it's soon to be celebrated in the West.

Take care,

Lysander

After Lysander finished his letter to Luther, he began to write a second.

16 December 1823

Greetings Ingo,

How are you, my friend? Let me begin this letter by wishing you a blessed and Merry Christmas, since I realize it's soon to be celebrated in the West.

As for me, I'm back in Romania—relaxing with my wife and child that I told you so much about. But the purpose of this letter is to ask you something important.

Through a friend in Berlin, I have received information about the Black Plague in the city. My friend only received the information through a second hand account, but even so, I questioned the concept of the Black Plague in modern times. Furthermore, what my friend told me did not come across as signs of the Black Plague that I remembered from History. Because you are in Berlin, and can give me a primary account, could you tell me exactly what's going on?

Take care, my friend,

Lysander

21 December 1823

Merry Christmas Lysander!

Although I believe it's still three weeks until Eastern Christians celebrate Christmas, Christmas is celebrated in the West on December 25th.

To address your question, your suspicion was absolutely correct. The Black Plague did not come to Berlin—thank God—but the northern part of the city is suffering from some sort of epidemic.

The victims seem to have all the life drained out of them, and they suffer from a loss of appetite. On their throats are two small wounds that are white with a red center. They appear to be an animal bite, yet I know of no animal that produces such a bite; and it's too cold for it to be an insect. Needless to say, we don't know what's causing the disease, but we are having some of the best doctors in the country looking in on it.

Nevertheless, don't let this frighten you from returning to Berlin. We have the disease quarantined.

Take care, and again, Merry Christmas!

Ingo