Disclaimers, acknowledgements, notes, warnings, etc: Please see Chapter 01.
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The Sound of Music Chronicles
Part I
The Twelfth Governess
Chapter 13
Second in command
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"So, let them bring on all their problems,
I'll do better than my best.
I have confidence
They'll put me to the test!
But I'll make them see
I have confidence in me.
Somehow I will impress them.
I will be firm, but kind.
And all those children,
Heaven bless them
They will look up to me
And mind me!"
R. Rodgers – I Have Confidence
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"He was the handsomest man she had ever seen. She loathed him."
Elizabeth George, A Great Deliverance.
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"It is not light that we need, but fire; it is not the gentle shower, but thunder. We need the storm, the whirlwind, and the earthquake."
Frederick Douglass
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Responding to the Captain´s whistle, upstairs, doors opened and closed noisily, and their father couldn´t help but grimace at each loud bang that was heard. Six children, wearing identical white sailor's uniforms with blue trimmings dashed out of their rooms, and lined up according to age along the balcony railing, standing at attention. Stealing a quick glance to his new governess, the Captain saw her silently count them, her head nodding to each number she silently whispered. Her back was also glued to the wall, as if seeking its protection.
"You´re right, Fräulein – I am missing one child! And yes, you should be worried." he thought irritably.
The missing child would be dealt with at the proper moment – she could not be very far. As for her worries… well, he had never been the type to assert his power through fear, even while he was in the Navy – no, he never needed such a basic weapon. However, he would continue to use her innocence to his advantage as much as possible. He blew his whistle again in a rhythmic pattern. Swinging their arms, the children began to march briskly downstairs into the hall.
The governess, recovering from her quick shock, walked forward, until she was standing a few feet away from him. Her mouth was still agape, but her eyes were transfixed upon him, not his children. Not the usual reaction he got from his previous employees when the moment of introductions came, but then, recalling the bits and pieces of conversation the nuns were having about her, he concluded that most things about Fräulein Maria were likely to be… unusual.
Unconventional.
Not a trait he would ever consider asking for in a governess, but at the moment, he was willing to deal with it as best as he could, since he had no other choice, at least until he returned from Vienna. Not after giving The Reverend Mother his word.
No – the other governess had definitely not run for cover the first time he blew his whistle and the thunder of the children's footsteps echoed all over the vast house. Their jaws had never dropped in bewilderment as they watched them marching down the stairs, wearing their impeccably tailored uniforms. On the contrary, her predecessors usually chose that moment to compliment him on how well behaved his children were, and proceed to applaud his educational methods.
While blowing his boatswain whistle, the Captain watched his children carefully, as they descended the stairs. The first in line was sixteen year old Liesl, the oldest. She was followed by Friedrich and Louisa. There was a gap in the line, where the missing child – Brigitta – should have been. Then followed the three youngest ones - Kurt, Marta and Gretl – the last one, the five year old, was barely able to keep up with her older siblings. He could see the culmination of his wife and himself in all of them, in different degrees. Liesl was the one who looked most like him, having the same wavy brown hair and deep blue eyes. Louisa, on the other hand, was the splitting image of the late Baroness von Trapp.
Responding the whistle, they lined up and stood at attention. At this moment, Brigitta made her appearance. She wandered into the front hall coming through one of the far doors her nose buried in a book. She too had inherited his dark brown hair. Her dreamy eyes, on the other hand, were unmistakably her mother´s.
There was no need for him to say anything, because Brigitta knew what to do. He held out his hand and she gave him the book without blinking – Tales of the Arabian Nights, he realized, looking quickly at the title and grimacing. Her favorite book, she must have read it at least one hundred times. His daughter, who was proving to be quite a bookworm, and he could not help but wonder if she had, even at such an early age, found her own way of escaping reality. As she turned to take her place in the line, he gave her a gentle scolding tap on the rear. He noted that she seemed a bit out of breath.
"What trick have you been up to my daughter?" He wondered. "I'm sure I'll find out soon enough."
The governess forgotten for the moment, he began pacing back and forth before them, inspecting his troop. Kurt´s collar was crooked, and he straightened it. Friedrich's posture was not all acceptable. He glared to his son.
"Hup!" He suddenly felt the governess's eyes upon him as he demonstrated for his son how to stand at attention.
The fourteen-year-old boy imitated him, puffing out his chest.
Reasonably satisfied with what he saw, he carelessly dropped Brigitta´s book on a nearby table.
"Now - this is your new governess, Fräulein Maria. She will be second in command from now on."
The children fired the new governess their best disapproving glances, showing the Captain not only that they all had inherited the infamous von Trapp scowl, but also that that they were not happy with their situation. He chose to ignore their glares. Satisfied, he noticed that the governess was as still as a statue.
"As I sound your signals you will step forward and give your names." Then he turned to Maria. "You, Fräulein, will listen carefully, learn their signals, so that you can call them when you want them."
The Fräulein, still looking absolutely dazed, merely nodded. He then blew a variety of different whistle signals. Each child, responding to their signal, stepped forward, announcing his or her name, and then stepped back in line.
"Liesl!"
"Friedrich!"
"Louisa!"
"Kurt!"
"Brigitta!"
"Marta!"
That order, however, was broken when it was time for the littlest one to step forward. She simply did not move from her place in the line. He had to blow her signal twice, more energetically the second time.
"Oh!" The girl exclaimed, as if awakened, and stepped forward then back, but still forgetting to say her name.
"And Gretl," he added, apologetically. He then cleared his throat, which caused the little girl to make an angry face at him. Looking at the governess, he was not sure he was irritated or embarrassed because of Gretl´s actions, or if it was because the Fräulein was clearly amused by it. There was a half smile playing on her lips now, and a mischievous sparkle in her eyes.
"How do you do?" the governess asked, in a polite and contained tone he hadn´t yet heard coming from her.
"Maybe there is hope for her yet," he thought. "Perhaps the Reverend Mother had been right after all, when she insisted so much that I gave her a chance."
His children remained silent, still looking at her angrily. For a second, he almost felt sorry for the girl, black sheep or not. The children so far had given him no indication that they would give her an easier time. He wondered how long it would be before the usual quietness of the house was broken by the new governess´s screams.
It was time, however, to give his sons and daughters a little something to think about.
"Fräulein Maria comes from Nonnberg Abbey. She is on loan to us until September, when school begins. The Mother Abbess kindly allowed her to come here to take charge of you all."
He noticed Louisa and Friedrich stealing a quick glance between them, while Liesl´s eyes widened at the mention of the convent´s name.
"At least three of them know the implications of that," he noted.
Addressing the line of children again, he continued.
"She is also training to be a nun." He stressed the last word, looking firmly at the three oldest children, to make sure that they got the message. Their reaction almost made him smile. Liesl bit her lower lip, something she usually did when she was nervous. To stress his point even further, he turned briskly to face the governess again. "Isn´t that a fact - Fräulein?"
"Yes, sir. I´ll be a nun before the year is over. Once I take my vows I´ll be a novice, and then…" she started rambling boisterously.
"Hmm. I am sure that my children will be delighted to learn about every single detail about life in a convent and all the necessary steps that a postulant has to go through in order to be promoted nun, but a simple yes or no answer would suffice for the moment," he admonished her, impatiently. He heard a giggle from one of his youngest daughters.
"I´m so…" But she never finished her apology.
He glared at the far end of the line and continued his speech, cutting off the young woman.
"As a nun in training, your new governess is well aware of the importance of discipline, order, and decorum. Isn´t that right, Fräulein?" His eyes narrowed at her, his tone almost challenging her to contradict him.
She shrugged. "Well, I suppose I…"
"Excellent," he stopped her again. "That is why I feel she is at the moment the best person to be in charge of your upbringing," he said, sounding unconvincing, even to his own ears. At the same time he wanted to send the little Fräulein the message that, as far as he was concerned, she was only there temporarily. Not because she had to return to the convent in September, but because he would fire her instantly, as soon as he was convinced that she was not suitable for the task. Preferably as soon as he returned from Vienna.
Looking at the governess again, he noticed her eyes widening when she saw him taking the other whistle from his pocket, then holding it out to her.
"Now, let's see how well you listened."
"Oh, I, I, I won't need to whistle for them, Reverend Captain. I mean – uh - I'll use their names. And such lovely names." She was looking at the children with a hint of something in her gaze – something that he couldn't identify.
Reverend Captain?
The unusual form of address – the first of many he would hear from her from that moment on – came spontaneously to her lips, and she had visibly realized the absurdity of it. But he had not been mistaken about something else. The impish look in her eyes just a moment earlier had only been the prelude of what was to come. She seemed bent on openly defying him – and worse, in front of the children. His conscience advised him to apply only a bit more patience towards her – after all, he had been warned that she had never worked as a governess before. So, he decided to appeal to her good sense – hoping that she had some, at least.
"Fräulein, this is a large house, the grounds are very extensive, and I will not have - anyone – shouting!"
The expression on her face did not change, as he began the phrase in a patient tone, only to raise his voice slightly, to say the last words slowly, stressing each of them. He proceeded, in the same harsh, commanding tone that would not admit any kind of rebellion.
"You will take this, please. Learn to use it. The children will help you."
Maria accepted the whistle reluctantly. Their fingers brushed slightly, and he heard her short intake of breath. He thought nothing of it – coming from a convent, she was probably not used to being touched under any circumstances, even casually or by accident. She stared at the silver whistle almost in horror.
"Now, when I want you, this is what you will hear."
He started to blow a particularly shrill signal on his whistle, when he was, once more, interrupted.
"Oh, no, sir, I'm sorry, sir!" Her voice was raised now, and she practically shouted the words, as if to make sure that, this time, he would not ignore her remark. He glared at her, but she did not cower.
"I could never answer to a whistle. Whistles are for dogs and cats and other animals, but not for children and definitely not for me. It would be too…" she searched for the right word "…humiliating!"
"Humiliating?" he echoed, appalled. The previous governesses had described the whistle calls by many words, all of them complimentary. Effective, efficient. Brilliant… Humiliating was certainly not one of them.
"Yes. I was given a nice, good, holy name by my dear sainted mother – may God bless her soul and hold her in His mercy," she looked heavenward, "It was all for a reason, Captain, and I refuse to answer to anything else except it. I am quite sure that if she was alive, the children´s mo…"
"Fräulein!" he practically yelled, and she jumped. The children were startled as well. "I am giving you fair warning one last time. Some matters in this house are none of your concern."
He fired another intimidating scowl at the girl for a moment. He heard one of the girls giggling nervously again – all he needed to do was to cast an ominous cautionary glance sideways and there was silence again. His fingers clenched around the boatswain whistle.
Of course she had no idea of knowing, but she had hit a nerve. Worst – he had a feeling that it was something that would happen quite often, for as long as she was employed in his household. She had been in his house for less than an hour and had already made references to his wife twice.
The issue of naming the children had always been a source of disagreement between him and Agathe, and eventually they had reached a compromise – he would name the boys, she, the girls. But whenever a girl had been born, he would start his campaign in favor of the name Barbara – one particular battle he couldn´t possibly win, because Agathe had an extensive list of favorite girls' names and Barbara wasn´t at all included.
He had his reasons for being fond of the name. Saint Barbara (1) was the patron Saint of the Navy. When he joined the military, his grandmother had given him a medal, which accompanied him on all of his missions, a medal that he still kept.
"Guard her well, Georg – she will protect you from those evil enemy torpedoes," his grandmother had said. But would she protect him against the black sheep of Nonnberg? – he asked himself, in amusement.
"Fräulein, were you this much trouble at the Abbey?" he asked, seeing that she was obviously at a loss for words.
Her answer was immediate, and dead honest, uttered with a great deal of… pride.
"Oh, much more, sir!"
"Hmm." He unclenched his fingers, letting the whistle fall from his hand, coming to hang in the middle of his chest.
He began to walk away, towards the drawing room. Only to stop cold when the little postulant blew her whistle. Clenching his fists, he stopped and looked back at her furiously.
"Excuse me, sir, I don't know your signal."
She was either completely guileless or she was the most manipulative female he had ever come across. She smiled now – such a wholesome smile, but also so full of meaning. There was mischief there, but there was also – triumph. The little Fräulein had just given him a taste of his own medicine. And quite brilliantly too, he had to admit.
However, he refused to concede her victory. "You may call me – Captain," he said, his voice chilling.
Using his old tactics, he fiercely stared at her for a moment. She did not even flinch. He turned around and left, while she stared at him, the look in her eyes never changing.
A/N: (1) "Saint Barbara became the patron saint of artillerymen. She is also traditionally the patron of armourers, military engineers, gunsmiths, miners and anyone else who worked with cannon and explosives. She is invoked against thunder and lightning and all accidents arising from explosions of gunpowder. She is venerated by everyone who faces the danger of sudden and violent death in work. " (Source – Wikipedia). According to "the real" Maria von Trapp in one of her books, she was also the patron saint of the Navy, and having a daugther by that name was indeed an unfullfilled wish of "the real" Captain von Trapp.