ACHTZEHN

Der Wiedersehen

That night, for the first time since learning of the bombing, Hermann Wolfgang Sterlitz, MD slept without being awakened by nightmares or persistent lingering thoughts. Even though an electrical storm rolled through overnight, making itself quite noticeable in the process, Hermann was unbothered, as indifferent to and unaware of this and any other disturbances as a man in a soundproof box. By morning, he and Kopa had woken up along with everyone else, leaving Markos asleep inside.

Markos was in the middle of a dream when he suddenly felt someone nudging him awake. "Hermann, hör auf damit!" he mumbled, not wanting any part of whatever mischief he thought was planned for him. However, this half-asleep "knock it off" was not understood in the least, as the one responsible for the constant side-nudging was not Hermann, and moreover, he didn't speak a word of German.

"Es ist mir ernst damit," Markos said in a crosser tone of voice before sitting up and rubbing his eyes. "I mean it, stop bothering me!"

"What?" replied a huge and unfamiliar lion sitting in front of him.

Hermann doesn't speak English if he's talking to me, Markos thought as he timidly looked up in the voice's direction and saw what was sitting there waiting for him. "Wer bist? Was willst?" Markos said in panic as he stared, frozen in place, at the newcomer. "What...do you…want?" He started looking around for someone else, but found himself quite alone and, more importantly, unarmed.

"Achtung! ACHTUNG!" he shouted, still trying unsuccessfully to find a way out.

"Hey, calm down!" the lion said, not recognizing the scope of the language barrier between himself and the human he was speaking to. "I'm not going to eat you or anything; I just wanted to—

"AAAACHTUUUUUNG!"

"Who's 'Achtung'?"

Hermann, having heard his friend's frenzied shouts, came running inside as fast as he could, stopping only for a second to grab his rifle and a few shells. He saw what appeared to be Markos pinned down in a corner by an unfamiliar lion, and decided to leave nothing to chance. "State your business here!" he said, snapping the bolt closed but keeping the muzzle pointed towards the ground. "And don't play any games with me!"

"Well, well, it's nice to meet you too…Hermann," the lion answered back with a laugh, knowing he wasn't in any real danger. He had seen the rifle Hermann was carrying with him, and could tell from the empty chamber that there was nothing in it.

"I said don't play any…wait, what?"

"That is your name, isn't it? Or are you Markos and that one's Hermann?"

Before either man could clarify who was who, Kopa barged in, half at a walk, half at a jog and still favoring one side a bit (much to Hermann's dismay, and to Markos's delight when he heard the words translated into German, he had come up with an unequivocally straightforward and descriptive name for this rather odd gait: his 'Hermann walk', which he broke into whenever a slow step wasn't quite fast enough). "Dad!" he shouted as he trotted along towards the newcomer and wrapped his paws around his neck, "you're home early!"

"Kopa…you're OK, thank goodness!" the other lion replied. "Of course I'm back early; I started for home as soon as I heard! I was…what's that you've got on?"

"It's a football shirt; who was it that-

"Warten, warten, warten…time out!" Hermann said before anyone could go any further. "First off, you're his father? And secondly…actually, there's nothing secondly. How come you weren't here to begin with?"

"Yes, I am his father, and I wasn't here because I had to be somewhere else for a yearly meeting of sorts. Anything else?" He was still smiling, even though he could tell Hermann didn't quite believe everything he said.

"What kind of meeting?"

"It's an annual gathering of all the rulers of all the prides around here. That's where I was when I heard about what happened, and I came back as soon as I could, but it's a day and a half's journey from there to here. I wasn't told about the attack until two days ago; if I'd known sooner, I would have returned sooner, but it seems word just doesn't travel as fast as it used to."

Hermann swallowed hard, realizing now that he was talking to someone rather high in rank. "A rulers' meeting…does that mean you're the ruler here?" Keep calm, and stay in English, he thought, not wanting to suddenly start blurting out words nobody but he would understand.

"You could say that…yes, I'm the king. You can just call me 'Simba' though, there's no need for formalities."

"Der König?" Hermann gasped, unable to help the switch into German."Um…uh…Freut mich, Sie kennenzulernen, Euer Majestät."

"Sorry, what? Are you speaking another language?"

"He said 'it's a pleasure to meet you'," Kopa explained. "That was German. I even know a few words now! Listen…ich heisse Kopa, und ich bin ein Löwe. How was that, Hermann?"

"Perfect, as usual. Sehr gut." Hermann turned to Simba and, in the most elegant tone of voice he could muster, said, "Hermann Wolfgang Sterlitz and Markos Wilhelm Schreiber, MDs, Universität Stuttgart, Federal Republic of Germany. Sorry about the language thing; it's just a bad habit of mine, switching back and forth and such. And please forgive us for reacting the way we did…if I had known who you were…"

"Think nothing of it. I should have known better than to just show up unannounced."

"Yeah, we still aren't exactly used to seeing you guys first thing in the morning, no offense intended."

"None taken. Come, walk with me, I want to know everything."

Later

As Simba and Hermann walked together through the plains, with Kopa and Vitani trailing along behind, the pride's ruler couldn't help but notice Hermann's odd, three-beat step and wonder if he was in some sort of pain. "I'm sorry, I have to ask," he said, "are you OK?"

"What do you mean by that?" Hermann asked, so used to walking lopsidedly that it seemed normal to him.

"Your right leg; is there something wrong with it?"

"Oh, that? That's…"

"He snapped it in half in two places!" Kopa piped up from the rear, causing Hermann to smile and roll his eyes.

"Don't worry, it's fixed for the most part," Hermann said in response to Simba, "but yes, I did break it, and so I have to walk with this cane. It happened years ago, not while I was here if that's what was worrying you."

"Good, I'm glad. So, give it to me straight…how bad was he?"

"The worst I've ever seen in my career," Hermann said flatly, trying to keep his voice down. "Lacerations and puncture wounds to almost every area of his body, coupled with blood loss and blunt trauma. He could barely move for a week or so without painkillers."

"What does that all mean?"

"It means it huuu-uurt!" Kopa interrupted again. "But it's getting better now!"

"What he said," Hermann continued. "But we've got him on the uptick now, and he'll be mended as long as he takes things slowly and doesn't get ahead of himself. Frankly, I think my leg's giving me more trouble than his injuries are giving him right now." When he looked back at Simba, he saw that there were tears in his eyes. "Mein Herr, was ist? What's wrong?"

"This was my fault," Simba replied. "If I had been here, this would have never happened. Every time I think of how afraid he must have been…how much pain he's been in, it's…"

"This was not your fault, believe me. And Kopa made it through the worst part just fine. He's the bravest patient I've ever seen…and excepting that one time I had the Vienna Philharmonic's assistant conductor as a patient during rounds, the most musical as well."

"Dad? Why are you crying?" Kopa asked, having walked over and seen his father's sad state. "What's the matter?"

"I'm just…nothing. I'm so glad you're alive; I don't know what I would have done if I'd lost you." Simba placed a paw on Kopa's side and tried to pull him closer, but he accidentally hit one of Kopa's sore spots.

"Ow!" Kopa exclaimed as he drew back. "Careful! That's my bad side!" He tried to get his legs back under him, treading on Hermann's right ankle in the process.

"Ach! Watch it, Kopa, are you trying to cripple me even more?" Now both of them were hopping around trying to regain their balance, and two became three when an errant foot from Hermann landed squarely on top of Simba's left front paw. All Hermann could do was brace for impact and fall with a muttered oath into a small bush. When he sat up and unsteadily rose to his feet, covered in a combination of burrs and mud, he saw that Kopa and Simba were no longer upset. Ah, Schadenfreude, he thought, if only there were someone besides myself on the wrong end of it from time to time. "Come on, you two, quit laughing at me for two seconds and help get these stupid burrs out of my shirt."

Shortly thereafter

"So what is it exactly that you do?" Simba asked Hermann as they turned for home, making their way back toward the rocks.

"Well, I'm a doctor, in a Stuttgart hospital," Hermann replied, trying not to think of everything that had happened there while he was gone. "I don't mean to digress, but I can't help mentioning that it's rather incredible what's happened here; not only has your son made an almost-impossible recovery, but he's also picking up German…and music theory. I never thought I'd ever see that with a patient, not in a thousand years."

"From what I've heard, you're more than just a good doctor; you could shoot a pebble of my head with a blindfold on."

"That's not entirely true…but yes, we've been practicing with rifles. If you-know-who comes back, I don't want to miss my one shot. Of course, how we deal with her ultimately rests with you, not me."

"Actually, it rests with the Deputy Chiefs of Security."

"And who holds that title here?"

"As of this morning, you and Markos do. You're the crack shot, not me."

"But you…you're the king! Der König! Why would you leave something that important to me?"

"Because being the king doesn't mean I know how to do everything, and I can't shoot a gun, for starters. When they come back, and they will come back, we will send them a message, but we can only do so with your help."

Hermann thought for a while as he walked along, following Simba back towards the rocks. He knew he didn't have much of a choice in the matter, as to turn and run now was as good as leaving Kopa for dead. "You know they'll have the odds in their favor," he said, noticeably pessimistic. "If they show up, the advantage lies with them, not with us, even if everything works perfectly. But regardless, I accept, and I will let my friend know as well; perhaps we can turn the tide after all. There's just one condition."

"What's that?"

"Promise me you won't ever blame yourself for what happened here again. One, it wasn't your doing, and two, I'm not going to fall into any more pricker bushes just to give you guys another laugh."

"Consider it done. By the way, is it true that Vitani's now staying with us?"

"Yes, her and Markos go together like two misbehaving peas in a pod. She's got nowhere else to go; I couldn't turn her away."

"No, you made the right call. Oh, and Kopa tells me you're a singer. You'll give us a performance before you leave, won't you?"

"A concert? Me? Uh…OK, if you insist." Hermann hoisted himself up the rocks and made for the cave. "I'm going to get a fire started for our dinner; I'll join you all in a bit. Auf bald!"

"Auf bald, Hermann," Kopa replied back, walking off to find his mother. Simba felt another tear making its way down his cheek as he watched Kopa walk off and around the corner. He knew that someday soon, he would have to deal with Zira, but for now, nothing, not even an impending threat of war, could take the joy of seeing his son alive and happy away from him. Come nighttime, he would sleep well, the best he had slept in days, with Kopa tucked securely but gently into the crook of his front leg. Hermann and Markos discovered entire new musical notes with their snoring in one corner; in the other, Vitani was curled up with Nala, discovering what it was like to finally have a family and someone to call her mother, even if there was no direct relation. For the first time in over a week, no songs, poems or comforting words were recited inside—neither in German nor in English—not because they had been forgotten, but because they were simply not needed.