EINUNDDREIβIG

Vom Herzen her

Hermann, dressed in a shiny pair of black shoes, dark gray trousers and a gray blazer, picked up a sheet of paper and read aloud: "Your bestowing this honor upon me, and upon my colleague, is a great honor." He scowled immediately, seeing that he had used the same word twice in one sentence, and crumpling the sheet of paper, threw it into a corner where it joined seven of its like-destined friends.

"I hate English," he said. "If only I could write this thing in German—

"Nobody but me and maybe Kopa would understand you," Markos interrupted.

"Look, I'm not used to public speaking. What's so irrational about wanting to do it in one's native language?"

"Nothing, but we abandoned the tenets of rationality as soon as we found this place. And you don't have any problems with public singing, so why should this be any harder?"

"I speak German, I sing in German. QED."

"So sing it, then. For practice."

"An acceptance speech set to 'Ode to Joy'? That'll be the first of its kind…"

Just then, one of the lionesses walked in carrying a gazelle. Markos instantly sprung up, pocketknife in hand. "Oh boy, filet mignon! Sterlitz, we're eating well tonight!"

"Oh no you don't," Hermann said as he grabbed Markos by the shirttails. "Adila gets first dibs on that; she needs to eat well to nurse her cub. You and I, and everyone else, get the leftovers."

"Couldn't I just cut off one of the little—

"No! I'm not discussing it any further!"

"Fine, I don't care…you're not top banana around here anyway, Simba is."

"What was that?"

"¿Qué?"

"Don't play Spanish amnesia with me, I heard you mutter something under your breath. Now what was it?"

"Parlez-vous Français, monsieur?"

"Some days, I just can't figure out why I haven't killed you yet."

"You just don't seem like the murdering type. Have you written down the oath yet?"

"Oath? What oath?"

"The oath, remember? The last part of this ceremony we're partaking in…you recite your statement of acceptance, then Simba says bunch of words to you, you say 'I accept' or something of that nature, and then you say a bunch of words to him, and the whole thing goes in reverse."

"Oh, no, I completely forgot about that part! What do I have to go on? We don't have a pride or anything like that…what am I supposed to use?"

"You could use the national oath of office. You know the words to that. Or the oath of citizenship."

"Nobody's taking office here, and I couldn't grant citizenship even if I wanted to. Only government officials can do that."

"Official citizenship, yes. But Simba's designated you as a representative of Germany."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning, as far as he's concerned, you're the government official. You can do anything that they can."

"Good luck explaining that to the Bundestag."

"Do you always have to be so technical? We're going to be part of this pride, but we're not lions; why can't Simba get some sort of recognition, even though he's not a person? With him, you have as much power here as anyone in Berlin does...if you say something's official, then it's official. You even look the part; you've got a little flag pin on your lapel, haven't you?"

"I suppose you've got a point there."

"All that matters is that you offer him something in return, some sort of token of respect. Honorific for honorific."

Hermann went back to writing. This time, he made it a full paragraph before tossing the paper aside and starting anew. "OK," he said, "this time, I'll get it right."

"You'll get what right?" It was Kopa, who had decided to check in momentarily on the two honorands. "Hi, Hermann! You look nice…what's that around your neck?"

"That's a necktie. It's something you don't wear except for formal occasions."

"What about your jacket? It looks like there's some sort of picture on it."

"That it is." Hermann pointed to the symbol on his lapel. "It's the insignia of my university; this jacket was given to me when I got my degree."

"Does everybody get one?"

"Yes, all the medical students do. It's a ceremonial thing; there's the same illustration on Markos's jacket, if you look. One bar under the insignia denotes a degree cum laude, two bars indicate magna cum laude, and three bars are for summa cum laude. Most of the time, you wouldn't wear a jacket with any sort of symbol on it, but this is all we had in our closets…and to be honest, neither of us were actually counting on putting them on! Still, I suppose academic dress is better than no dress at all."

"You have three bars; does that mean you got your degree with…with that really long word?"

"Yes, it means I graduated at the very top of my class."

"And Markos? What about him; how many bars does he have?"

"He has two. Don't remind him, or it'll restart a fight that took three months to settle. He's convinced the office made a mistake and cheated him out of the third bar."

"Did they?"

"No. I saw his transcript. It was excellent…just not as excellent as mine!"

"I've got to go join my dad outside; don't worry, you'll do fine. I'll be watching you. Just speak from your heart."

That's all I need, even more pressure, Hermann thought as Kopa scampered off. What would I say 'from the heart?' 'Ladies and gentlemen, the man standing at my left needs a lobotomy'? At least that would be honest, but I'm not sure if honestly necessarily counts as heartfelt.

"You're not writing, Sterlitz," Markos chided from across the room. "And do I really have to wear this jacket? Who wears graduation regalia to an induction ceremony?"

"It's just a university jacket, nothing more. We're not wearing caps and gowns…that really would look strange. What's the time?"

"You've got a watch…use it."

"Noon. We're T minus one hour. I guess I really do need to start writing again." With that, Hermann sat back down to take up his pen and paper once more. Markos started putting the finishing touches on his appearance; when he straightened his jacket out over his shoulders, he saw the insignia on the lapel with two bars underneath. Stupid admissions office, he thought as he enviously eyed Hermann's third bar. If only they'd set the grade point cutoffs two-tenths lower, I'd have gotten the same—

"Markos?" Hermann, who could easily tell what Markos was looking at, broke his friend's train of thought.

"Yeah? What is it?" Markos replied.

"You don't need red bars on your jacket to tell you how many lives you've helped save."

One hour later

Markos and Hermann were inside, alone. The rest of the pride, the audience for their induction, was waiting for them in a semicircle. Only Kopa had seen both of them dressed to the nines, and only he (and Simba) had a vague idea of how the whole ceremony was going to work. Still, he knew more than either of the two men; all they knew was that at some point, they would be called out individually by name. From then on, their guess as to what would happen next was as good as anyone else's.

"You remember how to salute?" Hermann asked. "Both feet together, left hand at your side…"

"I know how to make a salute, Sterlitz. Do you know how to stand at attention without falling over?"

"One can only hope so."

"Markos Wilhelm Schreiber, MD."

"Go," Hermann said. "That's your cue…and don't forget what I said about sticking to protocol. Make your steps equal, walk towards him in a straight line, and stand at attention when you're a few paces away. Look ahead, don't move, and don't talk. Treat it like graduation, but even more formal."

"I would think it's more formal than graduation. I was asleep the whole time that morning."

"You were asleep? Why?"

"Who could possibly stay awake for that? Three hours of listening to boring people talking about boring things…forgive me if I tuned out. Oh, before I forget, there's just one thing I've been meaning to tell you."

"What's that?"

"Don't stumble and face-plant in front of Simba. That would look really stupid." Markos whirled around and stepped outside into the light before Hermann could think of a response. As soon as he was out, he brought his feet together, paused for a second or two, and then started walking steadily up the incline. Hermann couldn't see any more of his friend once he had progressed a few paces forward. He waited, silently, until he got his cue:

"Hermann Wolfgang Sterlitz, MD."

Here goes nothing, Hermann thought as he started on his own trip outside. Nervous as he was, he couldn't help feeling like a high-ranking officer or the head professor at an illustrious college as he stepped towards the rest of the waiting pride. The university insignia, the flag pin on his jacket lapel…all of it felt very official, something between military and academic. Fortunately for Hermann, these thoughts served to preoccupy his mind until he was once again abreast of Markos. Both of them now stood at the end of the outcropping comprising the external half of Pride Rock; Hermann had taken care not to look over the edge as he walked, knowing that at least thirty meters of empty airspace lay between his feet and the ground below.

Left, right, left, right, he thought as he took each step, trying to even out his gait as best he could (Hermann had forsaken the cane, thinking that perhaps he would look more formal without a long-dead tree branch aiding his balance).

And…halt.

It was a side of the Hermann and Markos that nobody in the pride, not even Kopa, had ever seen before: both men in their best turnout, standing at full attention. When two right hands simultaneously went up into sharp salutes, Simba actually flinched, not having expected the rapid movement. After a few seconds, Hermann and Markos returned their hands to their sides and waited.

"You can stand at ease, gentlemen." Simba then turned to face the assembled pride. "As you all know, we are here today to induct these two men, Hermann Sterlitz and Markos Schreiber, into our pride. In doing so, they become part of our family, as we become part of theirs; what is ours pertains equally to them, and vice-versa. I think we all know just how indebted we truly are to the people who stand before you at this moment… I shudder to think of just one of the things that might have happened had a certain car not come our way one night three weeks ago. Nevertheless, as the honor we are about to bestow on these men is of the highest order, if there is anyone who believes either person unfit for inclusion in our pride, I invite them to speak now, without fear of retribution or rebuke."

Not one word was spoken; nobody even moved, save for Wolfgang, who was trying to climb onto Vitani's back for a better view.

"I am glad we are all of like mind," Simba continued. "Before we proceed with the exchange of oaths, I believe one of our honorands would like to offer a few words. Hermann, whenever you're ready."

Hermann took a few steps forward and fished a paper out of his pocket. A few of the lionesses around him couldn't help squinting from the sunlight reflecting off his shoes.

"I wrote this for all of you," Hermann began. "It's a statement of acceptance; most of the time, when someone is presented with an honor or an award, they give a speech in return. And my speech is right here, on this piece of paper." Hermann held the sheet aloft so everyone could see it. "There's just one problem…I haven't spoken publicly in years. And my speech, like my speaking skills, stinks." With that, he hastily crushed the paper in his fist and pitched the resulting ball over the side of the rock. Markos shook his head and watched, almost horrified, as the wad of paper heeded the call of gravity.

"I'll be honest with you; I couldn't get that speech to sound right," Hermann continued. "And furthermore, everything I would have said has already been stated numerous times. So if it's alright with all of you, I'm just going to improvise." Hermann paused for a moment and looked around, first at the audience in front of him, then off towards the horizon, and started his address:

"Since the eighteenth year of my life, I have dedicated myself to medicine, and in all likelihood will continue on this path until the day that I die. Perhaps it was to everyone's benefit here that one day on the football pitch, another player gave me the gait I walk with today, and by so doing sent me off to university. I guess we should all be sending him a thank-you card and a box of chocolates." A few lionesses laughed, much to the relief of the speaker. He realized he was stringing together words, accented though they were, into eloquent sentences longer than he had ever spoken before. He had absolutely no idea how he was managing it; unlike past days, when he sometimes had to mentally string ever syllable together before speaking, his speech was perfectly fluid, almost native sounding save for the accented pronunciation.

"Medicine, like life itself, has always had its defining moments: times of discovery, eras of success, and periods of failure. Through these times, whether for better or for worse, we learn more about the healing arts, just as we also learn about ourselves—who we are, and who we have become. And during my time here, I believe I have learned more about myself in three weeks than I did in four entire years of university. To thank for this, I have all of you, but no-one more so than a certain cub we all know and admire, who goes by the name 'Kopa'. As much as you say that you are indebted to me and to Markos, I say that I am equally and graciously in debt…to him."

Why's he thanking me? Kopa thought. He's the one who saved my life, not the other way around. If anything, I should be the one saying this to him. Hermann kept speaking, and answered Kopa's unspoken question in short order.

"I graduated from Universität Stuttgart in very good standing; I suppose I was continuing the Sterlitz family legacy there, as all my relatives who hold doctoral degrees have that same university's name written across the top of their diplomas. My mentor Friedrich spoke about me as if I were the greatest thing to happen to Olga hospital since its founding. 'You show him a sick patient,' I once heard him say, 'and he'll not only tell you what's wrong with the man, he'll also throw in a few lines of Schubert at the end, just because he can.' But diagnosis, that is only one half of medicine. Knowing when to listen as opposed to speaking, conducting oneself with care and compassion instead of with academic, impersonal indifference—of these things, I admittedly knew very little. In fact, in some respects, I was downright inept. However, thanks to Kopa and everything to which he as enlightened me, even if his doing so was completely unintentional, that person no longer exists. Because of him, I return to Germany, to Stuttgart, a far better man than I was before."

Hermann could feel a touch of sadness building into his normally strong, baritone voice. He was glad that he only had a few sentences left to say.

"Kopa, it is an honor, and a privilege, to know anyone of such admirable caliber as yours. In the face of long odds and terrifying adversity, you not only remained strong and steadfast, but inspired all of us to rise to the same level. I am…extremely proud of you, not only for your courage and bravery, but for the good heart that not even the worst set of circumstances could take away from you. Danke vielmals und gut gemacht; many thanks, and a job well done. That is all."

"I've never heard anyone speak like that…ever," Simba said to Hermann after a few seconds of silence. Kopa, still watching and listening, felt as if he were being honored as much as Hermann and Markos were. "When did you write that?"

"I didn't. I was winging it the whole time. It didn't sound too, you know...Germanic?"

"Of course it sounded Germanic. Just the way it's supposed to sound." Then came the question that everyone had been waiting for and anticipating all day: "Are you willing to take the oath of induction?"

"We are," Hermann answered confidently. "Raise your right hand, Markos." Simba didn't know what to make of this courtroom gesture, but he figured that it was just another curious human custom.

"Hermann, repeat after me, please," Simba said. "I, Hermann Wolfgang Sterlitz, of the city of Stuttgart, Germany, do hereby swear allegiance and loyalty to this pride." Hermann parroted the words back, perfect down to the last syllable. Simba then turned his attention to Markos, at Hermann's left, and spoke considerably slower.

"Markos?"

"Yes?"

"Repeat after me. I, Markos Wilhelm Schreiber…"

"I, Markos Wilhelm Schreiber…"

"Of the city of Dresden, Germany…"

"Of the city of Dresden, Germany..."

"Do hereby swear allegiance…"

"Do here-by swear alle…all...sorry, again, please?"

"Allegiance."

"Allegiance…"

"And loyalty to this pride."

"And loyalty to this pride."

"Herzlichen Glückwunsch, Herr Schreiber," Simba said. "Congratulations."

"Gut gemacht, Markos!" Kopa said immediately afterward.

Markos's eyes lit up as soon as he heard his native language spoken. "Thank you," he said. "It is…an honor. Hermann and I, we come here, and none of us expect this. We were strangers, but you treat us like family—both of us equally, although I do not speak…your language. You are welcome in Deutschland anytime."

"How thoughtful…thank you, Markos," Simba said, thoroughly impressed with Markos's English. "Hermann, have you prepared your oath?"

"I have," Hermann replied. "Bear with me on this…it's quite a bit longer than yours. Are you ready?"

"Yes, I am. Go ahead."

"Very good…ladies and gentlemen, the oath to establish recognition between the Federal Republic of Germany and the Kingdom of the Pride Lands is set forth as follows:

I solemnly swear, before all I hold dear and sacred, that I will dedicate my efforts to the well-being of all who reside in these lands, as well as to those who reside elsewhere. I will welcome all who come here—animals, regardless of species, as well as the citizens and nationals of the Federal Republic of Germany, the European Union, and all the world's nations—as I would welcome my own. I will advocate for justice, protect my subjects from undue harm, promote their welfare, and faithfully fulfill all the duties of my office. Do you agree to the conditions set forth?"

"Yes, I do…and very well written, I might add!"

"Thank you. I'll admit, it took me a while. Sorry, I digressed a bit there…by the power you have invested in me, and in return for your hospitality and graciousness, I hereby hold your oath binding and grant you recognition on behalf of my country and its people, honoris causa." Hermann took the pin off his jacket. "As a symbol of friendship from my homeland to yours, I would like to offer you this. It's not much, but I hope it reminds you of us."

"It's…it's a little flag. Yours, it looks like."

"The German ensign, yes. The same as the one that's flying over us right now."

"I've been meaning to ask you about that flag…were you planning on taking it back with you to Germany?"

"I'm not sure what I was planning on doing with it, why?"

"I was quite hoping you would let us keep it. I'd like it to stay there. Forever."

Hermann smiled and nodded his head. "I'd be honored," he said, clicking his heels together, saluting once more, and then dropping his right hand smartly to his side.

"Welcome to the pride, boys," Simba said with a wide smile. "Go greet your new relatives."

"Thank you again, Simba. We can't tell you how humbled we are by all of this." Hermann extended his right hand.

"Put the handshake away," Simba replied. "No more salutes, no more formalities; there's no need for them."

"There isn't?"

"No. We're family now." With that, Hermann found himself and his colleague in the grip of the strongest and longest bear hug either of them had ever received in their lives. From somewhere far off in the distance, he thought he heard someone speak:

"That's him…that's my Hermann…"

Whether the voice belonged to Dietrich or to Friedrich, or if it even existed at all, Hermann would never be able to figure out. But he was totally unconcerned with details. He and Markos were walking on air.