NOTE: Jochen is short for Joachim.
Brightly glittering surface. The cold Winter sun pours a golden path over it. The music plays a waltz. Many skates make cutting fine lines in the hard, reflective ice. All the people have bright faces. People hold each other's hands. Children make long garlands. One leads, pulls the line behind self, stands and lets the whole line roll up, holding on tightly, only the last one lets go and is flung far away in a wide arc.
Pairs hold hands crosswise. In quieter corners, away from the music, more skilful ones practise figures, eights, threes, running backwards and jumping. Both arms outstretched, head thrown diagonally over his right shoulder, palms turned upwards and outwards, standing on his right leg, his left stretched out wide, Fritz Lennartz lets his skate skate out the curve in a wonderful swing. For a moment, the body folds up and rides with new energy—which one doesn't know where it came from—does an arc to the other side by left foot. He wears a fur cap on the back of his head, from which a blond lock falls into his face. His dark blue suit is buttoned up tightly and shows his elastic slender body with every movement. He wears breeches that close tightly below the knee and long black stockings. His skin is girlishly delicate. The winter cold has reddened his cheeks. Now he stops and looks into the tight mass of people circling to the music. He surveys the girls by half-closed, somewhat haughty eyes. Without showing it, he follows a pair with his eyes. A slender girl with long legs, a sailor's cap is carelessly on the back of her neck, her slightly wavy hair is in the wind. She is having an excellent conversation. She laughs at her partner, who holds her firmly and securely crosswise by both hands. It seems as if she doesn't even notice Fritz. The two of them bend down to the music and are already past him. Fritz stands and pretends to be looking for someone else. Joachim—holding Lela's hands—can't help himself, "Have you seen Fritz?"
And Manuela, "Yes, cocky, isn't he?"
Joachim is satisfied with the answer, a patronizing smile crosses his good-natured face.
"Well, he can do quite a lot. But he always runs alone," he says, looking sharply sideways at Lela.
"If it pleases him, let him."
Something hurt Joachim there. Lela obviously didn't like the fact that Fritz always skated alone. Joachim suddenly felt it was unworthy to run past Fritz like this every time he took a new lap. he asked Lela to go to drink something hot in the restaurant. The restaurant was a wooden shack. Inside, a few tables with red-patterned tablecloths. There was no need to unbuckle. Rowing clumsily with one's hands, one balanced oneself with one's skates on the wet wooden floor until one reached a chair, on which one fell down clumsily. Lela wanted tea. Joachim also ordered tea, but with rum. It was steamy and smoky and quite noisy here. But Lela enjoyed sitting at a table with a boy, even if it were only Joachim. Satisfied, she sipped the hot tea. She sat opposite the entrance, to which Joachim turned his back. Joachim was a child next door. Joachim whistled in the street at midday, then Lela came out and they went skating together. That was a matter of course.
Meinhardis couldn't stand it in the old house on the outskirts of town. The memory of Frau Kate's death drove him away from there. With the help of a newly hired housekeeper, the move to the townhouse was quickly accomplished. Now they lived in a street of villas, trees in front of the house, gardens all around. Lela and Berti no longer had a long way to school, and Meinhardis was only a few minutes away from the regulars' table.
Fräulein von Helling ran the household. She was a somewhat stern-looking lady. Her dress collars went up to her neck, which dictated a proud head posture. She wore mainly dark colours, if not black at all. Her face was fresh, her mouth narrow and a little embittered. She was extremely thrifty, which was very pleasant for Meinhardis. He had never learnt to handle money and usually carried it uncounted and loose in his pocket, which horrified Fräulein von Helling. Meinhardis loved to scare her with his bad qualities. He then laughed at the top of his lungs at her shaking of his head until she timidly laughed as if merely out of politeness. But to tell the truth, she quite liked to laugh. She was pleasantly touched by the Lieutenant-Colonel's teasing attention. In matters of love, she had probably had little luck in her life and-as the daughter of a family with many children-had been forced into this position as a housekeeper by impoverished countryside aristocrats.
Manuela didn't like Fräulein von Helling. She resented the fact that she slept in Mother's bed and used Mother's wardrobe. Fräulein von Helling quickly sensed resistance, and wise from experience-as she had gained through many positions in strange families-she made no attempts to conquer Lela. She preferred to give her caring attention to the male inhabitants of the house. Berti thrived on his favourite dishes, and Meinhardis always found her cheerful company when he wanted to stay after the dinner with his glass of wine and recite all his old stories to a new, grateful listener. Then Fräulein von Helling, when persuaded, also drank a little glass; although she claimed that she never drank wine otherwise, but Meinhardis didn't suffer someone to sit "dry" with him. Besides, he enjoyed it when the Fräulein's cheeks flushed and she had to laugh out loud against her will and good upbringing. "Helling" he called her, sometimes "Du" when in good mood; while she inevitably stuck to the "but Herr Lieutenant-Colonel . . ."
So no one disturbed Manuela's activities. So she could sit here quietly and drink tea with rum when Jochen invited her to. With both elbows resting on the table, she let the invigorating warmth do its work. She liked to sit a little. Her narrow joints ached slightly while she was skating. She stared at the door, listening to Jochen's stories of the trip to Berlin, as if by chance.
As expected, Fritz came in. He didn't hobble as awkwardly as the others, but went confidently to the buffet and asked for cigarettes. Confidently, he pocketed the pack after lighting a cigarette and walked out again without glancing at Lela. He acted as if he hadn't noticed her at all. Lela became restless.
"Come on, let's run a little more," and Jochen obeyed immediately. When they stepped back into the light, the sun had set behind the fir forest. The music had stopped and the many skaters were already beginning to disperse.
Jochen and Lela run separately next to each other. Lela wanted to try to learn how to do a figure. With her right foot out, she was already doing quite well, and she was already getting a little of that strange pleasure of the swing. A hot desire to be able to do more rose up in her; that's when she saw Fritz running close to her with Hella Andreas. Hella glowed, she laughed unnaturally, and Fritz held her hands carelessly, just skating like everyone else out of politeness. Suddenly, it was cold and Lela was tired. Jochen knelt in front of her and unbuckled her skates. He also carried them for her on the way home. Lela saw that Fritz disappeared with Hella in the restaurant.
Once home, Manuela quickly did her home work, then picked up a book and retreated to a corner of the sofa. Fräulein von Helling was darning underwear. Lela hated the smell.
"If you were a proper girl, you would help me."
Lela was tired. She was just thinking about how she would do figures tomorrow. Restlessness had gripped her, she could not read, she shut the book. Then Meinhardis entered the room.
"Well, are you good?"
He pushed the lamp closer to Fräulein von Helling,
"Baby, you're spoiling your eyes with that stuff. Isn't she industrious, eh, Lela?"
Fräulein von Helling bent her head over her work. The lamplight shone on her thick blonde braid pinned up into a bun. Meinhardis' hands were lying on the back of the chair. He couldn't refrain from deftly and quickly pulling out two thick hairpins that held the construction. Immediately the braid fell over Fräulein von Helling's shoulder.
"But Herr Lieutenan-Colonel!"
Deep red and horrified, she jumped up, pressing the braid to the back of her head.
Meinhardis grinned and laughed. Lela laughed with him. She was used to Dad making fun. There was nothing special about it. What was new was that he now grabbed Helling and gave her a kiss. It seemed to Lela that Helling could have prevented this easily if only she had let go of the silly braid.
The next day, Lela ran away from poor Jochen. She ran down the sloping road to the rink, buckled up in a feverish hurry and immediately headed for a free corner where she began to practice. She was hot with exertion. She had also fallen down a few times, her coat was all white from ice powder. Finally she threw away the coat altogether, also the gloves and the muff. Here, now she felt better. She had just started to make a figure when two strong hands grabbed her around the belt from behind and started to "push" her. In a second they had breakneck speed. The ice cracked and swooshed under their feet. The black fir trees all around the track flew past her, the icy wind cut her face.
"Don't fall, Lela, hold on, you can do it! Are you afraid?"
"No Fritz, no! It's glorious!"
"Oh, you are light as a feather! I don't feel anything. I've got far too much strength," he gasped behind Lela.
It was like a wild chase, and it was she who was being chased, and she had to keep still, and it was good that way.
"Lel?" he asked after a pause. "Can you go on still?"
"Yes, Fritz, I can, I can, as long as you want."
She didn't even know what she was saying anymore, she only felt that the other skaters were avoiding them and that the hands holding them were skating a hair's breadth past the frozen, icy edges of the rink. She felt herself instinctively shifting her weight on turns. Her shins hurt, she trembled a little, but even if she had gone to Hell, she would have endured.
Now Fritz gave her an energetic push, and Lela flew out alone onto the blinding, smooth surface. A bend, some ice blocks in the way, Lela bent forward to avoid falling and fought wildly against the certain fall. In vain. But then he had her in his arms. Although her feet had slipped, she did not fall, she stood. Her cold cheeks lay against rough cloth, and she felt freezing touch of the hard buttons on Fritz's jacket.
"You performed fine, Lel."
"I don't think so. If you hadn't been standing there now, I'd have struck me down."
They both laughed.
They had to blow their noses and put their caps back on properly. Lela pulled down her dress, which had moved up during the running, and Fritz combed his lock out of face by hand. They were really quite messy.
Fritz took off his boots with the skates and hung them on a strap around his neck so that the boots with the skates hung on his chest. He had put on other boots. Now he knelt on the ground in front of Lela and unbuckled her skates. Lela had his messy blonde hair right in front of her face. But she quickly put her hands in her coat pocket as if looking for something.