To Göttingen

I spent the time leading up to my trip to Paris to plan. After seeing the Man Who Looked Like Anton, the one who spoke German, I knew that I had to go to Germany. I didn't care if the country was in turmoil. I didn't care that it would look bad for me, considering my "pro-Nazi" record.

And so I planned, and planned some more. Thankfully, I had saved enough money in my bank account at home to pay for my own train ticket, so I didn't have to feel bad about using Grandma and Grandpa's money.

The greater problem was how to escape my chaperones. By the time we actually arrived in Paris, I still hadn't come up with a plan short of bribing Mary to tell everyone I was sick. And I didn't want to get Mary in trouble. It's not her fault I'm in love with a dead Nazi soldier.

Strangely enough, however, God smiled on me, and a day into our trip to Paris, Mary got sick, and her mother and aunt decided to take her back home. I, however, asked if I could please stay in Paris – I hadn't even seen the Eiffel tower yet, and I would be ever so good, and come back to the respectable hotel before dark, and they wouldn't need to worry at all. And, somehow, my pleading worked.

After they left, it was easy enough to bribe the concierge, buy a train ticket, and head to Germany. Getting through the border patrols was a bit more difficult, but still doable. I arrived in Göttingen on what was to be my third day in France.

In the hotel, I picked up the telephone and asked the operator for the Reiker family.

"Which one?" she asked.

"Which one?" I repeated.

"Yes, which family? There are three in the neighboring area."

I panicked. "Um. The one with the father who is a professor at the university?"

"Ah. Mr. William Reiker, and his wife Elsa. Yes. One moment please."

I waited, fiddling with the telephone cord. After what seemed like an eternity, there came a voice through the speaker.

"Hello?"

"Hello. Mr. Reiker?"

"Yes?"

"Um. My name is Patty Bergen, and I, uh… I knew your son."

"Anton?"

"Yes."

There was a pause. "You are American?"

"Yes, sir."

"You are in Göttingen?"

"Yes."

"Why did you come?"

Now it was my turn to pause. Why did I come? Was I really expecting a warm welcome by the parents of a soldier murdered by my country? They didn't know me, I didn't know them. What would we talk about?

…I loved your son very much… Yes, we did too… So, how cold does it get here in the winter? Does it snow a lot? …Yes, quite a lot…

This was not going to work. My shoulders sagged. "Ms. Bergen?" I heard Anton's father call.

"Yes?"

"Why did you come?"

I sounded defeated as I replied, "I don't know."

There was another lengthy pause, then, "Why don't you come over?"

My head snapped up. "Um. Okay. Sure. Yeah." And he gave me their address, and that was that.

A/N: Welp, I really want to get to the good parts - you know, the ones about Anton. And I don't really feel like talking to his parents right now. And to write a fanfic, I have to be "in the mood" (this usually means that I have to have read the book recently, and currently I have plenty of other stuff to do). So, I do not know when this will be completed, if ever. But if you'll review it, then I'll probably continue. So, officially, this story is currently on a hiatus. Also, as always, Summer of My German Soldier belongs to Bette Greene.