Chapter 8 Growth

A long chapter, but with cute fluffy details as Maria gets older. Also, Vash shows up to spoil the party.

Winter melted into spring. As the days grew longer and the weather warmer, Gilbert found he enjoyed his days with Maria more. They could spend more time outside, and he preferred playing hide-and-seek or football with her to having tea parties inside. He took her to the Tiergarten in Neustrelitz to see the Barbary macaques play and climb; Maria could mimic their noises with unnerving accuracy. On weekends, they took the train to other towns and cities in Mecklenburg-Vorpommern; he wanted her to get a feel for all parts of her state. They walked along the banks of Lake Müritz, where he pointed out cranes, storks and the occasional eagle flying by for prey.

Gilbert had never given the region much thought when it had been split into two duchies; he had always considered it a backwater. But now he could see the beauty of it for the first time and he made a list of cities, museums and parks for Maria to visit when she was older. And she was growing: the child who had seemed a disturbing combination of human form and animal capability was now becoming recognizably human. She had finished with diapers, even at night, and she was pretty capable of feeding herself. She could now speak in complete sentences, and her vocabulary grew every day.

She surprised Gilbert when they had said farewell to Lili at the train station. It was April and they had had a wonderful week together that had culminated with a guided tour of the cranes' sleeping area at Lake Müritz. Best of all, to Gilbert's mind, was that he and Lili were able to talk and make love. He looked forward to her monthly visits and how she seemed to revive him and the apartment's atmosphere. She had reminded him to prepare for each day as if it were part of a military campaign, so he and Maria would be ready for anything that may occur. He liked the analogy. He also studied her interactions with the little girl to see how she could turn what he thought were boring wastes of time—tea parties, dressing up—into teaching moments for words and concepts. As she kissed him just before going onto the train, he clung to her.

"I wish you could stay a little longer," he whispered. They had lain entwined in each other's bodies that morning, kissing and whispering to each other, until they heard Maria roll out of her bed and begin to cry in surprise.

"Me too, Schatz," she replied. "But I must go." Reluctantly, she pulled away and placed a smile on her face. "Good bye, see you two in May!" She got a seat near the window and waved and blew kisses at them until the train had left the station. Gilbert remembered feeling especially low. As he strapped Maria into her car seat, she stared at him with her wide amethyst eyes and asked, "Is Vati sad?"

Normally Gilbert would have protested he was fine, but he paused. What did it matter if he told the child the truth? She wasn't going to use it against him. "Ja," he sighed, "Vati is sad."

Maria held out her arms towards him. "Es tut mir leid," she said, with a look on her face that reminded him of Lili.1

"Ach, Liebling, you didn't do anything to make Vati sad!" He said gently. He hesitated to tell her the truth; he didn't want her wailing about Muti being gone.

"Es tut mir leid Vati is sad," Maria said, still holding her arms out to him. Gilbert paused and studied the child. Her eyes were filled with compassion. Mein Gott, he thought, die kleine Äffin actually feels sympathy!2 He smiled and let her put her arms around his neck.

"You are a good girl, Maria," he whispered. He kissed her cheek and got into the driver's seat. As they drove back to the apartment, he wondered if she could see his face in the rearview mirror.

She became better at amusing herself. On days when she wasn't at the Tagesmutter's house, she would sit with him while he worked on his blog or checked correspondence. Often she would play with blocks or puzzles or her dolls and stuffed animals. Gilbert would half-hear her conversations with Willi and Gilbird as she played tea party or school with them and her toys. Sometimes she would grow bored and say, "Vati, play with me!"

"Not yet, Spatzchen," he'd murmur while typing away at his laptop. "Vati is working."

Sometimes she'd go back to her own play, sometimes she'd whine (Mein Gott! He hated the whining! Ludwig never whined, but Maria's voice could stab his brain more lethally than a stiletto), but once she plunked down next to him on the sofa with one of her picture books. She opened it, propped it on her lap and began tapping her fingers on the page.

Gilbert studied her, amused. "What are you doing, Maria?"

She didn't look up, fingers busily tapping. "Shh, Vati. I am working." He burst into laughter and ruffled her hair; he had given up on braiding it a long time ago. "All right, Liebling, we shall work together until lunch, ja?"

Spring heated into summer. Now was the time when Mecklenburg-Vorpommern swelled with German tourists heading towards the Baltic sea resorts and fishing towns. Gilbert grumbled when he saw the low availability and high prices of lodgings. Surely the personification of the state deserved a discount. When he talked to Ludwig, his brother said he would try to do something about and contact the mortals in charge of some of the Baltic coast cities. To his great pleasure, Gilbert received fulsome letters from the city officials of Rostock, Graal-Müritz and Kühlungsborn inviting Maria and her guardians to vacation at a discounted rate at local hotels. Kesesese, he laughed to himself, it was good to be the older brother of the Federal Republic of Germany and the guardian of Mecklenburg-Vorpommern!

Lili brought Vash with her in June when they spent a week in Rostock and Warnermünde. Gilbert didn't care if Vash was impressed with the Hanseatic architecture in Rostock or not; he was pleased that the Swiss nation actually was willing to rent a sailboat when they stayed at a little beach house at Warnermünde. They went sailing on a clear day, and Vash and Lili expertly handled the boat. Gilbert and Maria stayed out of the way, obediently moving from one side to another when Vash barked at them. Gilbert was proud of Maria's bravery and curiosity; not once did she whimper when the boat leaned over as the wind filled the sails. Instead, she laughed and stuck her face into the wind. He vowed she would never learn to swim by being tossed into deep waters.

Later, when Lili had put the exhausted child to bed, Vash and Gilbert had shared a beer as they watched the sunset. Vash turned and raised an eyebrow at him.

"So when are you going to tell everyone that you have kidnapped the love child of Austria and Lithuania?" He asked.

Gilbert was too tired and happy to take offense. "Lili told me Estonia came up with that one, Vash. Her eyes are lighter than Roderich's, and you'd never see him or Toris react to wind and water like she did today!" He enjoyed boasting about her.

Vash shrugged. "She's definitely fond of the ocean. That's a good thing for her." He drank some more beer. "So what does Ludwig think of the little Balt?"

Now Gilbert's good mood soured. "She's German, Vash! And Ludwig thinks she's awesome!" That was the truth; he saw how his brother relaxed and softened when he visited and played with the child.

A little smile played on Vash's lips. "She doesn't look German, Gilbert. Those eyes, those cheekbones." Gilbert was about to protest, but Vash glared at him. "And neither do you, Gilbert."

Gilbert froze and glared back. "Wat zum Teufel do you mean, Vash?" He controlled his voice even as his fingers gripped his beer and chair arm.

Vash's smile grew broader. "Oh come on, Gilbert. We all know you say you came out of the Holy Land, supposedly with German crusaders. But did you really? Weren't there a bunch of Old Prussians here before you arrived?" He took another sip of beer. "I looked it up online and you know what Old Prussian sounds like? A Slavic language." He paused. "It sure as hell isn't Germanic."

"Ja, like Swiss German sounds 'German.'" Gilbert sneered. He felt an unpleasant twist in his stomach. This was not the first time someone questioned his background. Other German states, and even Ludwig, had hinted that Hitler had questioned his ethnicity. According to Ludwig, the Führer had wondered aloud about Gilbert's coloring, his long eyes, high cheekbones and sharp straight nose, his quick mood changes. He had even muttered the dreaded word—Slavic—when wondering about Gilbert's background. Ludwig had made a point of defending his brother against these charges, but they still haunted Gilbert. "News alert, Vash. I killed those Old Prussians, wiped them out to make a German state. But what's your real point? You're fond of plain dealing. So let's deal."

To his surprise, Vash paused. "You actually found her on the beach of Graal-Müritz?"

"Ja, you idiot! Ask Lili! She was there. She wouldn't lie!" Gilbert had to remind himself that Lili was putting Maria to sleep, so he hissed his insults.

Vash chuckled to himself. "She would to protect you, Gilbert. We already know that." He stared meaningfully at Gilbert, as if to remind him that he knew Lili had kept their relationship secret for several months. "But if you insist that you found the child where you did, I won't quarrel with you. The question is, if she originated there or wandered from somewhere else."

Gilbert bit his lip and took a deep breath. "Vash, why does it matter to you whether Maria is a German state or a little Balt or Slav that wandered into Mecklenburg? Seriously, you don't have a dog in this fight."

"I don't want Lili to be heartbroken, that's all." Vash admitted. "I don't want her to put all this care, love and time into a child that might not be what she thinks it is."

Gilbert stared at him in disgust. Always the guardedness, the unwillingness to take a risk in the world. What a puny life you lead, he thought. But he heard Lili's steps coming down the stairs so he bit his tongue. "Love, care and time is never wasted on a child, no matter what it is," he said. And as Lili approached, he turned to smile at her. When she saw him, and smiled in return, he held out his arms to her and she walked into them, kissing his lips as he wrapped her into his embrace. He saw in his peripheral vision that Vash had to look away. Take that, you miser, Gilbert thought as he embraced the entity he considered Maria's mother. Lili sidled onto his lap and his grin grew.

"So is our little angel asleep, meine Dame?" He said, just loud enough for Vash to hear.

"Ja, the sailing wore her out, but she loved it!" Lili said. "She kept asking, 'Can we do it again?'" She looked hopefully towards Vash, who was studying his beer bottle. He barely nodded at his adopted sister's question. "Depends on the weather," he muttered.

"Of course," Gilbert said sweetly. He kissed Lili, coaxing her mouth open as he caressed her cheek and neck. Suddenly, he shifted her over his shoulder and stood up. "Well, we'll need to go to bed early tonight if we go sailing tomorrow! Gute Nacht, Vash!" He called as he carried the giggling, blushing Lili up to their bedroom.

Later in bed, he grumbled, "I wonder what that American state Colorado sees in him. She seems so chill and open-minded, and he is so uptight."

Lili rubbed his back. "That's why he likes her, Gilbert. She gets his sense of humor and he feels safe with her." She had seen how Vash and Melinda, the state of Colorado, interacted with each other when she visited. They spent most of their time skiing, shooting and hiking, and Vash's silence seemed relaxed when he sat with her in the evenings.

"To each his own." Gilbert liked how his motto from his days as Prussia could apply to so many situations. He rolled over to face Lili and played with her fine blonde hair. He couldn't help smiling as he studied her large green eyes and perfectly curved lips. "I wish you could stay with us all summer," he whispered.

"I wish you could bring Maria down to the Alps for a week or two," Lili replied. "We have lakes, my National Day in August, the Donkey Festival in Maldun, Austria's music festival…"

"When she gets older, Liebling," Gilbert gently touched the tip of her nose. "Right now she needs to spend a lot of her time in her region, so she can grow strong and healthy." Lili nodded, and curled up against him. "Soon," she sighed sweetly, "soon."

By September, Maria had grown. Lili noticed this immediately, since she only saw the child one week out of every month. "Mein Gott," she gasped when Maria and Gilbert met her at the train station. "She must have grown a decimeter since the beginning of the summer!" Maria's head had come up to the top of Lili's thighs; now she could rest it upon her lower stomach.

"I'm getting bigger, Muti!" Maria hugged her and looked up. Her amber-colored hair flew past her shoulders. Her body was not as pudgy anymore and as they left the station, Lili marveled at how coordinated she was as she skipped between her and Gilbert. She's not a toddler anymore, she thought, but a real little girl.

Gilbert told Lili about how Maria thrived during their summer visits to the Baltic coast. She plunged into the surf, laughing and calling for him to join her. He'd creep in, still frightened of getting too far and being pulled under by the waves. But Maria would bob in the water and when it came over her head, she simply sputtered and smiled; it was as if she had been born knowing how to hold her breath and blow out bubbles. She would beg him to come out farther and he would shake his head, protesting, "I'm made out of sugar, Spatzchen. I'll melt!" The first time he said that, she rode a wave back to where he stood, looked up at him and asked, "Is that why you have white hair and skin?"

Gilbert nodded. "Ja, that's it." He looked down at his feet in the water and pretended to shudder. "Mein Gott, my feet are melting away! Back to dry land!" He retreated as Maria rolled in the wet sand, laughing.

The child managed to eat an impressive amount of food, all sorts of fish and shellfish, as well as bread, potatoes, vegetables and fruits. When Lili decided to make cookies, Maria eagerly volunteered to help. Lili tried to use this as an opportunity to teach basic math with measurements, but Maria grew bored and wandered off to watch television instead. She would sit with crayons and paper, drawing endless pictures; Gilbert was surprised at the talent she had.

"Look at this picture she did of Willi," he said to Lili. She admired it. "She's the equivalent of a what? A four year old mortal? Ludwig didn't even draw this well when I hired tutors for him!"

"Then she has a talent and we should encourage it." Lili looked up at Gilbert and smiled. But he didn't look pleased. "What's wrong?"

Gilbert bit his lip. He didn't know if Lili would understand or care, but there were things about Maria that unnerved him. First, the child loved to talk; she would chatter in the car as they traveled, ramble from one observation to another as he tried to work, and engage her dolls and toys in spirited arguments. She was still shy and silent in front of most of the German states, but Monika and Ludwig would often look overwhelmed as they nodded to her nonstop chatter.

Maria loved clothes and dressing up. The Tagesmutter reported that she would commandeer the costume box and put everything on, unconcerned that the fireman's helmet didn't match the princess dress. When she grew tired of the box's offerings, she drew pictures of fabulous costumes that seemed a mix of animal, bird, human and images from cartoons and commercials. She would show them to a flummoxed Gilbert and tell him that one costume was for when she would visit Onkel Ludi, the next was for dinner with him and Muti, and the one after that was for a fairy princess's ball. As her skill improved, her costumes took on an Eastern flair.

She was also revealing a stubborn streak. Gilbert expected that; she was German after all. But it was how the stubbornness manifested itself that troubled him. She had decided one night that Willi would sleep in her bed.

"Nein, Maria," Gilbert said. "He can sleep in his little basket right near your bed, but not in it."

"Why?" she asked.

"Because even the cleanest dogs are not clean enough to sleep in a human bed," he explained. "He'll shed hair, dirt from the day's playing about outside, dirt on his paws and—"

"Then wash him so he can sleep with me." It wasn't so much what she said as how she said it that made Gilbert freeze and stare at her. Maria's tone was not naïve or pleading, but arrogant, as if she were commanding him.

"Nein, I'm not washing that dog and drying him every night to sleep in your bed," he snapped. "He sleeps in his basket or he sleeps in my room."

Maria jutted her jaw at him and narrowed her eyes. "I want him in my bed!"

Gilbert glared back. "Nein!" He expected them to stare at each other and then the child would sulk and crawl under the covers, leaving the curious Pomeranian in his basket. But Maria grabbed the dog and pulled the blankets over their heads. Gilbert yanked them back, snarling, "Give me the dog!"

If she had been Ludwig, he would have expected her to stare stolidly at him, daring him to take the dog. Maybe she would have grunted, "Nein," and stuck out her lower lip. But the little minx actually looked down her straight nose at him as she lifted her head, pointed her finger at him and said, "Leave my room!"

Something about the child's proud stubbornness made Gilbert hot with fury. He remembered when another entity had pulled the same posture and commanded him in the same haughty tone. He had wanted to destroy that entity then, but he couldn't; instead he had been that nation's vassal and had had to humbly obey. And here was a child, a girl, pulling the same airs on him. For a second, he imagined grabbing her by the scruff of her neck and spanking her until she howled. That would show the little wench who was in charge! But then he remembered Ludwig had outlawed corporal punishment several years ago. Gilbert took a deep breath, tried to remember what Lili had told him the latest books said about discipline and said, "Give me Willi before I count to drei or I will take him to the woods tomorrow and you will never see him again."

Maria's face blanched, but she still stared at him, head held high. "Ein," Gilbert said. He noted she clutched Willi tighter. "Zwei," he said. Please don't make me do this, he thought; he had no idea what he was going to do with the little dog the next day. He took a deep breath and opened his mouth, when Maria shoved the startled dog off her bed.

"Here!" She burst into tears. "Take him!" Gilbert sat down to comfort her, but when he saw her face, he pulled back. Her tears weren't from remorse or fear, but rage at not getting her way. He could tell by the angry turn of her mouth and the red fury of her eyes' whites contrasting with her amethyst irises. Spoiled brat, he thought as he picked up the spinning, anxious Pomeranian, turned off the light and went to bed.

The next morning she had woken up, chattering happily about what she was going to do at the Tagesmutter's that day, what kind of horses she would own when she grew up, and how she wished Muti or Tante Monika would make her a red velvet robe with black fur on the sleeves and collar. Only when Gilbert tried to kiss her before he left, did she turn her head away with any resentment over the previous night.

When Gilbert told this story to Lili, she looked thoughtful. "Does she act this way at the Tagesmutter's house?" she asked.

Gilbert shook his head. "Nein. She says she is cheerful and follows the rules. She talks a lot, but that's it."

"Maybe we're spoiling her," Lili mused. "We need to start giving her simple chores that a child her age can do. When she doesn't do them, she can't watch her favorite DVD or play with a favorite toy. We'll have to start telling her 'Nein' more often. Clear, consistent rules! And no giving in to tantrums!"She nodded as if the problem were solved. Then she gently stroked his arm. "As to the talking and the clothes, that's just being a girl, Schatz. I used to change the ribbons and trim on my dresses all the time andI would pretend my dolls were my friends and have them talk to me."

Gilbert looked at Lili. He was about to protest that it wasn't just the stubbornness or Maria's love of talk and clothes, but how it presented itself, tied in with the child's other traits. Her mercurial moods, her chatter, her artistic flair, her ridiculous self-assurance and pride; he remembered Vash's sly words about her origins and shuddered.

Hmmm, it's getting complicated-what do you think is going on? Please review!

1 German: I'm sorry

2 German: the little chimp