Hello, September!
It's been a while updating, so my apologies. School has happened again, so my time is being stretched a bit too thin. I try to write for fun late in the evenings, even for a little while. BUT with a few days of vacation, I managed to clear the calendar for some fun writing time. This one is a bit shorter than the last few, but chapter 14 is almost done, too! This chapter has a lot of Georg and Max and some pretty heady conversations!
Thanks again to everyone for their encouragement and for reading along!
A Re-opening – Part I
"If God had to build a door, it's because we erected a wall."
― Craig D. Lounsbrough
The day that Georg, Elsa and Max were scheduled to return to Salzburg, it was a beautiful Sunday morning. Georg woke before the sun, feeling completely refreshed… one of the best night's sleep he had had in the four years since Agathe had left him so tragically. However, he could not shake this nagging feeling that something was not quite right with the world.
He just could not explain it. It was a sense that he developed over his many years at sea. Georg could assess a deck of clouds following him from the west…scan the waters of narrow passage…monitor passing ships… No matter the circumstances, he just knew if things were going to go well, or if they weren't. Just like today, he didn't always know the reasons why he'd feel a certain way, but he had learned to always trust his intuition.
Georg sat on the edge of the bed and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. Stretching out his shoulders as he stood, he walked over towards the wall of windows and pulled back the curtains. The eastern sky was blushing with pinks, salmons and orange as the sun prepared to make its appearance. The sky reminded him of that morning almost two weeks ago when he had woken before the sun, the morning after the Little Fraulein had entered their lives.
From that moment on, the governess consumed his thoughts and left him with a nagging 'sense' that something was off. It had reached its crescendo the other night when he had the intense dream of Agathe and Fraulein Maria together in the garden. It was as though that dream had begun to cleanse his soul of some of the baggage he had been carrying. Somehow, he felt lighter; definitely unsettled, but much lighter. Perhaps his trip to Athena had not been for naught, even though it had left him confused.
Georg still could not wrap his head around his dream …what did it all mean? Maybe it meant nothing? Maybe it was just Agathe's way of giving him permission to marry Elsa and start a new life together. To move on…finally. After all, before she had passed, Agathe promised him she would find someone for him and the children.
Still, whatever had him feeling unsettled continued to gnaw away at him like a busy beaver. He vaguely recalled a conversation with Max about things the other night. Did that have something to do with this? Unfortunately, their little chat had been over one-too-many drinks and he could not remember the details. Lucky for him, Max had had just as much to drink. In so many ways, that evening was just like old times: a starry night on the Adriatic, when he and the crew would sit on top of the ship sharing stories and a mickey of something the locals had brewed up from potatoes.
No matter how hard he tried to redirect his thoughts, however, Georg kept coming back to the same question: what did Fraulein Maria have to do with any of this?
Damnit! If only she was a curmudgeonly old Nanny in a tweed suit it would be so easy to see that it was Elsa he was supposed to be with. Georg realized he could have his fill of any of the women who had practically thrown themselves in his direction since Agathe passed. Instead, he had landed with Elsa: she was a stunning beauty, well-dressed, perfectly coiffed.
Fraulein Maria on the other hand, was so different from Elsa, or from any other woman who had crossed his path the past four years. She was a pretty little thing, unconventionally so. Maria didn't have a vain bone in her body from what he could tell. What was it about her…? He drummed his fingers along the side of his thigh. He realized he was doing that a lot – whenever he was consumed with thoughts of his governess.
Georg packed up his things and flipped the latches closed on his suitcase. He tossed a few schillings on the bedside table as a token of his thanks to the housekeeping staff who always attended to his every need. It also helped that Elsa was related to the Sachers; he and Max were akin to family at that point. Anything they asked for, they received in spades.
Georg checked out at the front desk and tossed his luggage into the car. As he rearranged things in the trunk, he spotted the package of blue fabric that he had picked up the other day at the Orientalisch. He carefully tucked it alongside his luggage, wedging it between it the side of the trunk so it would not be damaged by Max and Elsa's belongings. Of course, it was a good idea to camouflage it and avoid unnecessary questioning about its contents. Georg paused while he imagined what she would look like wearing it.
Checking his watch, Georg realized Max wasn't scheduled to meet him at the car for another 30 minutes. He decided to go for a short stroll and clear his mind – to get ready for the day. Today, his future bride would meet his children. He paused and grimaced. He felt like he was putting his foot into a shoe that was a size too small: it fit, but it just wasn't comfortable. Hopefully time would aide in this predicament and affection would grow from friendship, desire would be kindled through togetherness? Wouldn't it?
Georg found himself wandering down the Goethegasse towards the Burggarten. The sun was peeking over the Habsburg Palace as it made its majestic climb into the cloudless sky. The pigeons scattered as he walked along the sidewalk and eventually, he paused at the statue of Kaiser Franz Joseph, admiring his long military trench coat and impressive moustache. The Emperor whose reign foreshadowed the end of the Habsburgs and the great Austrian Empire. Georg shook his head, amazed at how so many significant changes in life could sneak up on you sometimes. Just like the coziness between Austria and Germany these days. Sometimes you don't appreciate that big things are happening until they practically take your nose off.
Georg's mind once again strayed back to his dream about Maria and Agathe, but he forced his focus back to his Emperor, the great man who he served in battle for so many years. Stuffing his hands in his pockets, Georg headed further along in the park and found himself at the foot of the statue of Austria's gem, Herr Mozart. The statue featured little Wolfgang, his father Leopold, Don Giovani, a bouquet of putti, and musical symbols. This statue had such interesting contrasts – notes and music, young and old, sacred and secular. The putti, Georg recalled, were typically associated with heaven, romantic and erotic love, and peace, prosperity, mirth and leisure…Once again he found himself frozen to the spot as visions of Fraulein Maria, nuzzling Adelaide along the split rail fence, rushed into his mind and he could see her as clearly as if he witnessed the scene only moments ago. A whirling mass of contradictions she was, much like this statue. Heaven, peace, mirth, and leisure.
Georg purposefully tried to filter out any reference to romantic and erotic love, although he realized he was failing miserably at his task.
Looking at his watch, Georg turned to go back to the car. Max would most likely be up now and pouring some coffee down his throat. They would go to Elsa's villa and pick up her things, and Elsa, too, of course. He pledged to himself that he would no longer waste his energy on trying to figure out what his dream meant and why he found himself fixated on the imagery in the cultural artifacts of Vienna. He had visited them so many times before and never noticed anything about them, surely these were isolated events stirred up by his thoughts of his pending proposal. Mind you, he hadn't met Fraulein Maria until 10 days ago.
Georg hoped that Elsa would take to the children when they met although he knew that she didn't have a motherly bone in her body. Really, Max would make a much better mother to his 7 children. He smiled to himself, maybe he should propose to Max? Max would quite like that, being master of the wine cellar, the cook and the part-time pastry chef.
Georg pushed back the convertible roof and sat himself in the driver's seat. Today was too nice of a day not to be enjoyed without the top down. He drummed his fingers along the steering wheel while he waited for Max and tried to anticipate how his day would play out.
ooOoo
Max had just finished getting dressed and was packing away his things. He wandered over to the window with a cup of coffee in his hand and he looked down the Goethegasse where he could see the glorious sunrise reflecting off the windows of the Albertina. The pigeons were strutting about the courtyard out in front of the Sacher and a woman and a small girl were scattering breadcrumbs at their feet.
He spotted movement up the sidewalk and was immediately drawn to a familiar figure. It was Georg, hands stuffed in his pockets. He strode with purpose along the sidewalk, yet he seemed to be focused on the hungry pigeons flittering about the square. Max knew Georg better than he anyone, and Max could read Georg's posture like a book: something was not quite right in the world of Georg Von Trapp.
So many times during the Great War, Max would sit in the submarine with the rest of the crew and they would attempt to read him. It became second nature to them, and they could identify specific times when something was amiss…that the Captain was scheming, but he knew he could not act yet. Georg always kept things to himself until he was sure what his next move would be. Eventually, he would tell all, once he had it figured out for himself, of course.
This morning he had that same look about him. Today they were off to Salzburg and Georg would introduce Elsa to the children. Really, Georg should be looking about as settled as one could expect at this point in his life. He had come so far over the past two years since Elsa entered his life and got him out of his perpetual state of despair. Yet, Max could tell that Georg was, at this very moment, in a faraway place, pondering his options. He had noticed it brewing over the past 10 days, but just like in the days of the great Navy, Max knew it was futile to ask Georg directly. He would deny that anything was wrong, he would avoid discussing it. Max knew it was best to wait until the time was right when his questions would actually yield fruit.
At the party last week, Max had attempted to bolster Elsa's confidence by explaining away Georg's distant behaviour. At the time, he really believed it was nerves related to introducing Elsa to the children and to Salzburg. However, the more time they had spent together these past 10 days, the more he began to doubt his initial feelings that the ship was, indeed, sailing smoothly.
Max's doubts all came to a head two nights ago when he had joined Georg in his suite at the Sacher for a night cap. By the time Max arrived, Georg already had a few drinks under his belt. Georg was prone to "loose lips" when he was intoxicated, and this occasion was no different. If Max had any doubts about Georg's state of mind before that night, he certainly was able to confirm their existence in the safety of his suite at the Sacher.
…
"Say, Georg, what did you and Kohler talk about at the tea party today? You seemed rather deep in conversation over in the corner of the garden? Did he bore you with another of his great soliloquies on the state of affairs in Europe?"
Georg shook his head. "No, Max. Well, actually yes, Max". He paused and stared straight ahead and out the window onto the charming, glowing streets of Vienna.
Max knew from experience to wait this out. The Captain would soon reveal his secrets. Georg Von Trapp was not a man to flap about from the affirmative to the negative. He was a man with conviction when he spoke. Wishy-washy meant something good was going to come out! Max rubbed his palms together with glee!
"Eduard did go on about Schuschnigg. Really, what else does the man talk about? He's hardly what I would call a dynamic personality. He talked, I listened. I agreed with him that the situation is growing more dire by the day and we both agreed neither of us is willing to let the Fuhrer from Hell take over our homeland. We will both enlist again if we must. Even if it's just to provide central command now that we are so old and washed up and not suitable for front line work. Besides, there's no Navy anymore."
Max nodded his agreement. While he personally held no political convictions, the current state of Austria and Germany did trouble him. However, Max was far more interested in going with the flow if that meant the money would run and show business would continue unfettered. Yet, he also understood how passionate Georg was about his homeland: there were so few men of the Maria Theresa Order in Austria, it was not surprising the whole lot of them were nationalists to the core.
"Yup, Max, I am washed up. Too old. No hope for me. I don't have much to look forward to anymore. Too old for the Navy, besides, we have no coastline! My eldest daughter is almost 17, the youngest child is 5. I missed the 7-year old's birthday last week because I am too much of a coward to face her or any of the children, for that matter. No problems sinking the Leon Gambetta, taking hundreds of men to a watery grave, but Goddamnit – but I can't bear being in the company of my own children. They remind me too much of her!".
Georg swirled the contents of his glass around, the ice cubes clinking together and making a musical sound against the sides of the crystal tumbler. He stared down at the way the ice landed against the side and tilted his head, almost as though he was trying to read the wind in the straights off Sebenico.
"It's supposed to be easy, isn't it Max? Shouldn't things get easier four years after she left me?". Georg looked up, his piercing blue eyes locking with Max's. Max replied with a watery smile and Georg ran his hands through his hair, finally resting his elbows on his knees while he held his drink out in front of him.
"Elsa is lovely, Max, she really is. I know it should be easy – the next step should be marriage, shouldn't it? It should be the natural thing to do? We've been together for two years. But there are days when I just can't bear to think of taking the next step! There are days when I can't wait to leave Salzburg to get away from home! There are days when I am here in Vienna and all I want is to be alone. I can't stand waltzing, I can't stand parties, and I detest schmoozing! I don't think I can submit to a life of this as some sort of trade-off for not being alone. I need a mother for my children, Max, but I really don't want a wife"
Max remained quiet. He knew there was more.
"Then, to top it all off, there's her. She's young, vibrant, eyes like a dream…they are as blue as the Adriatic on a summer day. And Max! She has legs that go on forever…something to behold, despite the damn rags she arrived in. She's really something, but once again, I'm just too old, too washed up!"
Max straightened in his chair. He was NOT expecting this from his Captain. "Her?" he croaked.
Georg threw himself backwards into his chair and looked up at the ceiling. He straightened and tossed the last of his scotch down his throat. He looked at Max who tried to appear nonchalant.
"Yep!" Georg slurred. "You heard me right – herrrrr! She's beautiful, she's feisty! I can tell she loves my children, and, get this…" Georg leaned in towards Max and spoke quietly. "She's a horse whisperer! Yes, indeed, Maximillian, yours truly, Georg Von Trapp has fallen…for a Nun!". Georg laughed heartily at the absurdity of his own words and then he buried his face in his hands.
Max swallowed the lump in his throat as he decided how to proceed. At first, he waited, but it seemed Georg had run out of things to say.
On the drive from Boheimkirchen, Georg had mentioned that the new governess was a nun-in-training. Fraulein…um…Maria? Yes, that is her, he recalled. She had to be the one he was talking about.
"Georg, you've fallen for a Nun? Isn't that entirely impossible given that Nuns live inside the Abbey?" Max said attempting to bait the trap.
"Of course, Max! Nuns live in the Abbey. However, the one I desire is not a nun yet, but she wants to be one. Why in God's name she would waste what she's got in that place, I have no idea. That's why it's absurd. Why is it the one I want, I can't have, and the one I have, I don't want? Did I really deserve to be THIS unhappy Max? First Agathe, now this?". Georg rose from his chair and walked over to the window.
Max had not seen Georg this unsettled for a few years. There were many nights after Agathe passed when they spent many hours over several bottles of scotch and brandy, dissecting everything that had happened to Agathe and discussing what would happen next. Max's thoughts turned to Elsa, who was probably turning in for the evening across the city at this moment. He knew she was worried about Georg and how distant he had been recently, but there was no way Max could tell her about this.
Maybe Max could just do a little bit of encouraging to help move things along. Surely, once Georg was settled, he would be happier? Yet, Max also knew that a drunk man's words were a sober man's thoughts. Georg obviously had serious doubts about his future with Elsa Schraeder. But all that lovely money? Max shook his head back to the present and over to Georg who was now laying on the bed looking at the ceiling. He didn't know what to say, so he tried to play peace maker.
"Well, Georg" he sighed. "I don't have an answer for you, but it seems obvious to me any relationship with a nun is out of the question. Her employer could certainly give you a hard time for overstepping!"
Georg laughed out loud. "You're right Max, it's totally ridiculous! Give me a few weeks and it will be out of my system. In September, this one with the doe eyes and the long legs will be back behind the walls of the Abbey and we can just go back to the way things were. God can keep THAT for himself, the lucky devil. I think I will just consider it a test of God's will vs. Georg's will. I was a Korvettenkapitän, for Christ's sake, I can most certainly safely manage a burning desire that I have for an untouchable woman. Besides, even if she wasn't going to be a nun, why would she want to spend her life with an old man with a lot of baggage?".
…
As Max looked out the window at Georg pulling the convertible top back in front of the hotel, he wondered how much of that evening's conversation Georg recalled, if any. This was going to be an interesting trip to Salzburg, that much Max knew. Hopefully Georg was right, and he could manage to control this thing he had for the governess. Perhaps later today, once the children had met Elsa, the stars would align, and the ship would set sail as it should. In the fall, Georg and Elsa would be married at the Stephansdom, the Fraulein would be back at the Abbey…and all would be well with the world. Wouldn't it?
Max quickly threw his things into his suitcase and did a quick check of the room. He picked up his luggage and made his way downstairs. He stopped in the doorway and ran his fingers through his moustache. It was definitely going to be an interesting trip to the villa, and Max found himself feeling slightly less confident about what the fall would bring.