Heidi Gerke

Family Obligation

            The sound of a thud closely followed by breaking glass filled the apartment, invading the silence in an instant. There upon the wooden floor lying at an awkward angle was a picture frame in the midst of fragmented glass. For a moment, things went quiet as the figure responsible for the accident stood with head stooped viewing the mess. Silvery blonde hair fell forward as he lowered to one knee. “Oops…” The word was on a breath as the man reached out and lightly collected the now misshapen frame. Tilting it to the side, more glass tumbled from the object leaving a scratch on the photograph within.

            A pale brow rose as light blue eyes fell on the image almost curiously. Only the sound of footsteps drew his attention away from the item to the woman now standing in the doorway. It was easy to see the thoughts that ran over her face as her brow furrowed. “How did you break that?” She asked in exasperation.

            “Who are they?” Rocking back on his heels, he grinned up at her, frame still in his hand.

            “Don’t answer a question with a question. It’s my family.” She said rolling her eyes.

            “I assume that’s your father?” Pointing to the figure in the back, he grinned while watching her nod. “He looks rather angry.”

            Finally moving away from the wall, she slipped into the kitchen as she brushed chestnut hair from her face. “He’s naturally angry.”

            “Nice way to refer to your father, Ana.” The sarcastic tone was all she needed to hear, and even more reason for her to ignore his antics. “Your mother looks quite tense. Trouble in the Reiter family life?”

            Poking her head back in, the young woman waved a broom at him almost menacingly. “Lucien… are you genuinely curious about my life or are you trying to get out of being in trouble?”

            “Both?”

            “I can’t complain too much about my family. Any tension caused between us is partially my fault.” Something in his demeanor made her relax as she playfully swatted at him with the broom to make him move. When he rose to his feet, frame still in hand, she began to sweep up the mess.

            “Who is this?” Lucien watched her for a moment before moving closer pointing to the youngest figure in the picture with ebony colored hair. The teen’s blue eyes were set in a countenance that seemed far too old and too sad to be so young.

            Mid sweeping motion, she stopped. Green eyes went vacant as though drifting off to a memory she didn’t really want to remember. “My brother.”

            “How very descriptive of you.”

            “Has anyone ever told you you’re annoying?”

            “I’m sure they have… What’s his name?”

            “Mozart.”

            Silence fell after that simple word only to have the blonde smirk in rapt amusement. “Mozart? You’re parents were sadistic, weren’t they? Analiese and Mozart…”

            “Like you have room to talk… Lucien.”

“Touché! I’m French, you know.”

“And we’re German. We’re a rich family, do the math.”

            “German? Explains the name Reiter. Should I be drawing neutral zone lines and start looking for a new roommate now?”

“I should have listened to my mother when she said not to take in stray cats.”

“I resent that! I’m the best-looking stray cat you’ll ever bring home!” As he said this he ducked the swing of the broom before continuing without missing a beat. “They live in the States now?”

            “Munich. They all live in Munich. I came here for college and neglected to go home.” The way she kept her attention on the pile of glass was more than enough for him to know he should back off. But as time had revealed, Lucien never let things go when he was interested.

            “Regardless,” The man smiled to himself as he waved the fact aside, “you didn’t tell me much about your brother. Why does he look so solemn? He seems rather young.”

            “That picture was taken a year ago. He was fifteen.” She could get angry at his questioning, but it wasn’t easy for her to stay angry, even with the impromptu roommate that had a knack for irritating her. “I’d have to explain things from pretty far back for you to know why he’s like that.”

            “Tell me?” He asked inquisitively as he practically flopped into her sofa, picture clutched between slender fingers. “We’ve got time… unless you’re that far behind in your work.”

            The brunette paused before sweeping the glass aside and propping the broom against the wall. “I suppose I could.” Being an editor had its perks, but it fed the tendency for procrastination. At least, it did in her case. “Mozart is six years younger than me. I’d been excited for a sibling…” But did that explain the profound hurt brought through jealousy that occurred as she realized the facts and reality of life? Analiese Reiter was average in most everything she did. Education, sports, art, and anything else she tried her hand at. At the time, that wasn’t important. Her parents loved her regardless and never pressed her for anything. So, when her parents unexpectedly told her there would be a new addition, she’d been fine with the idea.

            “Where are you? Because I don’t think you’re here any longer.” Lucien placed the frame in his lap as she moved her attention back to him. “Somewhere back in Munich, maybe?”

            Something about the name of that place made her frown. It made her think of things she had long run from by leaving home.

+++

            “Wünder.” The word hung in the air making her wince. Staring into the room from outside the door of her parents’ study full of anxiety as two adults conversed inside. The word echoed in the young mind as she caught pieces of the conversation in broken German. Prodigy?

            “He’s more than we could’ve hoped for. He’s only three!” Her father seemed to posture like a rooster out in a farmyard to his friend.

            “Erstaunlich…”

            Amazing. A word she’d never heard in reference to herself. Turning her head to the other man, she couldn’t even hear the words that left his lips. This person, her father, was different from the man she’d known most of her life.

            “Schwester?” Nearly jumping, the girl turned to the small form peering up at her curiously with deep almost too knowing eyes. In response, she insistently pressed a finger to her lips and narrowed her eyes at her brother. Instantly he went silent and blue eyes widened as he took a step back.

            Letting out a soft sigh, she took his wrist lightly and pulled him away from the cracked door. “Mozart…” The childish lilt of a nine-year-old was obvious as they walked away. There was a bit of resentment in her voice but it could easily be overlooked. “Why are you out of bed?”

            The toddler remained quiet as he was pulled in her wake, but she could feel him watching her. There would be no answer. The boy rarely talked, but when he did, it was enough to make her stare in amazement. Had she known the word, she would have called him profound. Her little brother was indeed, a prodigy. That was why their father was in there praising him, and he’d forgotten she existed. “Schwester ist traurig.”

            Sad? Why would she be sad? Silly brother. “Albern…” Pulling him to his room she opened the door and let go of his wrist. “Sweet dreams, Mozart…”

            For a moment he didn’t move, yet when he did he fisted a hand into her shirt as he looked up at her. She couldn’t face him as she childishly pouted and looked away. When he realized she wouldn’t look at him he let go and moved into the room. “Guten nacht… Ana.” As the door to his room closed, Ana held her breath before turning to leave.

+++

            “Don’t you walk away from me Mozart!” The roar of sound exploded and echoed down the marble halls after the dark-haired figure. The elder stood in the intricately carved double doors of his study staring down his son. “It’s final! If you persist in this behavior, then I’ll take it away from you completely!”

            The boy, no more than nine stood there downcast and still. Jagged bangs fell into his face hiding the expression there. He didn’t even see his sister standing before him at the other end of the hall. She looked at her father curiously but he made no note of her. “The arts are to be enjoyed! Not to make a living off of! You’re better than that!” Without another word the door slammed, and the man was gone from view.

            Tilting her head to the side, she remained silent a moment before speaking. “Bruder…” With a sigh she moved forward and slipped a hand into his hair ruffling slightly. “What’s wrong?”

            “I want… to be a musician.” The words were spoken softly, calmly. It was in a manner that showed that he was afraid to say it to her.

            “What’s wrong with that?”

            The dark head lifted quickly as he looked into his elder sister’s face. He studied her expression before brightening drastically. “I love music! The movements, the sounds… It’s amazing!” It was like turning on the light in a dark room. Such a thought amused Ana as she listened to his explanation of every symphony he could think of and how every instrument was integrated perfectly. It was like setting up a math equation and it made Ana’s head swim. It wasn’t until the sudden turn in his mood that her attention was brought back to him. “But… vater…”

            “What about him?” Analiese watched him quietly in thought. Kneeling down to his level, something seemed to be calculating in her mind before fading away to curiosity.

            “It makes him angry.”

            Logically so. Ana bit into her lower lip as she searched his almost stoic façade. Was this the same boy from moments before that had literally glowed as he gushed out musical facts and praise? Their father wanted more for him. He wanted him to make a difference in the world as a scientist or a doctor. Musicians didn’t save the world nor make a name for themselves. It was certainly not something a prodigy should pursue. Logically, of course… “But it makes you happy.” Was she being kind? Or was she getting even? All those years she’d been ignored, now there was finally something that made her parents angry with her brother.

            Once more, so very slowly he smiled. “Danke…” Before she could respond, small arms wrapped about her neck and held on tight.

            “Bitte..”

+++

            The young boy was tugging at the cover of the piano keys when she walked in. It was obvious what he was trying to do. The beautiful grand piano had long been locked and shut off from use. Of course, this action on their parents’ part didn’t really hurt anyone except the young prodigy that seemed to lament the lack of dancing fingers on ivory. Ana hesitated in her spot in the door to the music room hoping he’d not seen her. The high vaulted ceiling was shaped just for the purpose of sound, and it felt that when Mozart played, it was made specifically for him. Part of her did want to hear that sound, but it was the possibility that this situation presented.

            As the ten-year-old seemed to inspect the lock, Ana finally spoke. “In the hutch… bottom shelf very back right corner.” Her words seemed to echo off the white walls.

            Mozart froze at the sound before giving her a sheepish glance. “Schwester… you know I’m not supposed to.”

            “No, you aren’t. They’re not here right now. It’s your own problem if you get caught, bruder.”

            “Ja… Danke.”

            Turning on her heel with a flicker of a wave over her shoulder, she could see in her mind how the younger moved to dig out the key. As she traveled down the hall, the whisper of piano sound followed after her. Part of her should feel guilty… guilty because she’d just gotten off the phone with their mother. They were on their way home. But in the moments they yelled at her prodigy brother, it made her feel a little less like the dirt on the floor for the maids to sweep up.

+++

            “Das ist genug!”

Looking up from her book, Ana moved her gaze to the door. What was enough? Sliding off her bed, she dropped the book on the covers then moved into the hallway. Drifting toward the chaos, she stopped before her brother’s room.

            “I’ll have no more of this! I forbade you to buy these things!” Years of disinterest from her parents made her not even think twice when she pushed the door open. Instantly, the books in her father’s hand were noticed as he shook them in her brother’s face. To his side, her mother was frowning at her child in disapproval.

            Mozart wasn’t fighting back. After all this time, he was used to the tyrannical reign of their parents over his life. The icy depth of his eyes were trained hard on the floor and only looked up when Ana entered the room. Something that looked like hope flickered in his expression, and she fought the urge to wince.

“Was?” Their father asked, his teenage daughter as she stood there quietly.

            “Those are mine.” Nothing made him angrier than when she interfered. Except for when she spoke in English rather than German. Glancing at the books again, she slowly moved closer and ripped them from his hand. The act was one of sheer rebellion. “He borrowed them from me.”

            “You can’t even play instruments!” The German retort was ignored as Ana turned for the door.

            “I still like sheet music. I’ve always wanted to play piano.”

            “Auf Deutsch!”

            Without looking back she waved him off and exited the room. A stream of curses followed her down the hall. Why had she done that? Because every day she’d seen her brother crack just a little more. It was partly her fault as well. She’d bought some of the books for the boy as gifts. Now the twelve-year-old worshipped her as the only one that understood him.

            This neglected the fact that she encouraged him… so he’d be a failure like herself.

            Entering her room, she tossed the sheet music books onto her bed with a sigh. There had been a lot of money invested in those books. They were Mozart’s pride and joy. Leaning in closer, she read one of the titles to herself in slight amusement. It was a piece by ‘the’ Mozart himself. Requiem…

            “Schwester…”

            “Yes, Mozart?”

            “Thank you.”

            She hesitated at the sound of the perfectly spoken English words. As another form of rebellion, Analiese had refused to speak German at home any longer. Even if her father thought she couldn’t master any trade, she was mastering another language. Mozart on the other hand, dared not defy his decree that German would be spoken at home. “Come here.”

            Childlike, he moved toward her only to have a strand of his hair tugged in teasing. “It would be a waste of money if he threw them all out. Just… hide them better in the future.” At his slight nod, a pain entered her chest. A lot of the grief he’d been through was her fault. But she refused to take back her spiteful act of pushing him into the arms of the very thing their parents forbade. Far crueler than any enemy was the friend that undermined with kindness. “I’m going to America for college.”

            The small smile fell as the younger stared at her in disbelief. “But…”

            “You’ll live, bruder…”

            “Ana…”

            “Mozart.” Cutting him off, she gave him a sharp look. “You’ll be fine without me. Grow a backbone. Maybe they won’t hold you down…” Something in his wilting expression made her stop and let out a sigh. “Silly little brother…” Without another thought she reached out and drew him into a light hug. “You can call me. Write if you like. I’ll always listen.” That much was true… why it was, she didn’t know. But there was a good chance that the tears that were now staining her shirt were part of the reason.

+++

            The reverie was broken as an object was forced into her hands. Looking down, she felt more than saw Lucien’s hands wrapping her own about the broken picture frame. Blinking a few times to clear her vision, the first thing she noted was her younger brother staring back at her. The expression was just as Lucien described. Solemn. And because she knew Mozart, it was also sad. Regarding herself almost with a pang of regret, she could see the smug smile all too well. “Ana...”

            “Ja…”

            Lucien couldn’t help but smile at the slip of German as he moved past her to collect the broom. “You’re close to your brother.”

            All she could do was snort as her hands tightened on the wood. “Weren’t you listening at all?”

            “Yes. I was.” Using a dustpan she’d never seen him retrieve, he swept up the mess while she stood stone still. “You’re jealous because he’s a prodigy. He’s good at everything. You have one talent you excel at… and your father doesn’t care. Because your brother is good at everything.” The wood creaked under her murderous grasp but she didn’t answer. “I’m not trying to be cruel. I’m telling you the truth. You’re jealous… but you still love him.”

            Something like a light bulb seem to flicker on in her mind as the tension in her grip eased. Yes, that was true. Even though she’d been jealous… even though her intentions at first had been cruel and childish, somewhere along the way she had learned to love him. More prominently she’d learned that there was nothing she liked more than to see her brother smile.

            “I have a brother.”

            “What?” Looking up in surprise, Ana watched Lucien walk by to dispose of the glass. In the time she’d known him, he never spoke of his life or his family. To hear this acknowledgment was slightly shocking to the young woman.

“He’s ten years younger than me. I made a great many of mistakes… and he no longer wishes to speak with me. And so we haven’t… for quite a long time.”

            “I’m sorry…” He looked far away and it made her cringe just as much as the meaning behind his words. It’d been a year since she’d stop keeping in touch with Mozart. Yet the boy never stopped writing her. He’d even sent a recording of his playing her favorite piece on the piano.

            “You should be.” In a sweeping gesture, the blonde patted her head, then moved out of the room. “I’m going to go commandeer your computer so you can’t work tonight.” The impish grin he sent her was the last thing she saw before he left the room. Lucien was never one to let anything serious hold him down. Irritating as he was, he made her really stop and think about her own serious approach to life and to her family.

            Alone now, she turned her gaze to the picture frame slowly. Only when she was sure he was gone, did shaking fingers pry the back of the frame away so the photograph could fall into her hand. But instead of one there were two. Taking the family portrait away, she let it fall to the ground. All that remained was a picture she’d kept hidden with two smiling faces taken the same year as the family portrait. Mozart sat in a swing outside their home while Ana stood behind him arms tightly wrapped about his shoulders. Her baby brother was smiling and it was the smile she loved. And to her amazement, she too was smiling with all her heart. There was no pretense in that expression.

+++

            A few days had passed, and the whole conversation wouldn’t leave her mind. But every time she’d gone to pick up the phone, she’d shy away. Should she tell her brother of her own selfishness? Would he never speak to her again even though she wanted – no -- needed to make things right between them? Because of this fear she did nothing and went on with her work and as of late dealing with her roommate whose main goal was to make her life complicated.

            So it had been no surprise when she entered her apartment to see Lucien perched at the bar by the kitchen waiting for her. The blonde smiled almost teasingly as she gave him a curious look. “You have a message. The caller ID wouldn’t register the call so I ignored it. Seems a crazy kid was spurting out frantic German on the machine, might want to check that.”

            Frowning, she moved past him to the machine and hesitated before pushing the play button. It was a given who she would hear. Even if Lucien hadn’t said it was a child, she would have still known. She and her father had let the turmoil go at least two years prior finding the tension a waste of effort. Since then, she’d actually gotten along with her parents. That left only one other possibility. Pressing play, the soft yet exasperated voice of her brother flooded her senses. “Schwester!”

            The speech was broken, and she only caught words here and there, but the content was enough. Mozart was in tears. Their father had finally reached his breaking point. Now, to completely remove the desire for music and the arts from the teen of now sixteen, Mozart would be sent to a private high school in Japan. One that focused and enforced science and mathematics and would in the end, strip him of access to the things he loved. 

“Ich gehöre nicht hier!” Even through the tears, she could make out the heartfelt cry before the machine cut him off. This act was that of sheer alienation. How could their father be so cruel?

            “What was that last thing he said?” Lucien leaned on his elbows as he watched her face.

            “I don’t belong here…”

            “What are you going to do about it?”

            “I need to be there.”

            “Good girl.”

+++

            It hadn’t been that long since she’d gotten off the plane and somehow managed to find her luggage in the mass of chaos that flooded about her. The murmur of people speaking was a dull buzz in her mind, as she remained focused on what she was setting out to do. But as she stood there at the entrance to the airport her knees felt weak. Everything was different here. This wasn’t Munich… and it wasn’t the States that she’d grown to love.

            This was Japan. This was Tokyo.

            Looking about in almost a state of panic, she reminder herself of where she needed to be. She’d made the reservations, even made plans with her boss to work while she was away. But now that she was here, she wished she could be back in her apartment. Even arguing with Lucien was better than this overwhelming feeling of isolation in a city far too crammed and far too large for her to handle.

            Taking a deep breath she moved to a taxicab that sat in waiting by the curb. Opening the door, she slid in with her things and looked up at the driver as he spoke to her. “Konnichiwa! Ogenki desu ka? Doko e?” It was only then she realized what Mozart was going through to the fullest extent. Fluent in English, and fluent in German… she was like a fish out of water in this Japanese culture.  “Ojou-san? Doushita no?” This was where she needed to be… and right now he needed her. Clinging to the picture of her and her brother she promised herself that she would make things right. But as the man spewed out more of the language she couldn’t understand, she stared at him and turned pale.

            Mein Gott…

Revision Account

            When I tried to think of a short story to turn in for our class, I had many ideas, but most revolved around my novel. Sadly, the concept of my novel was too much to explain in a few excerpts and would leave the class with too many questions. When I write, I do like to put my characters into other situations just to formulate their personalities better. In fact, the idea of this situation came to me when talking to a friend. He needed help devising a character for role playing. After helping him devise a history and a family background, I let him borrow the family name of my heroine from my novel.

            It was the first seed that started growing into an idea. So, I began developing it after asking him if he minded my use of his character. I’ve always been fascinated with Germany. There is a lot of German in my blood, and the idea of using that country for the main showcase in a story appealed to me. In my novel, I actually had Lucien as my main character and Analiese was his supporting character. I had him portrayed a lot clearer in my mind, therefore I wanted to make her a main character in my short story. It was meant mostly to further her personality in my own mind.

            Many people seemed to like Lucien. It could be because of how much attention I’ve given to him in my other writings. But there were a lot of questions as to the relationship between him and my heroine in this fiction. At this point, I wanted them to appear more like good friends, even siblings. In the novel I am actually slowly building to a deeper relationship between them, but that was not my intent here. For the sake of length, I didn’t go very far into his character. But, I do think, after reading over this work a few times, that I would like to expand on this storyline. Even if this were only for my own benefit it would be nice to paint a more detailed picture.

            This was actually something that really caught Karen’s attention when she did her email exchanges with me. Her comments really helped me in simplifying the flow of my story. It helped me clarify my intent in places. I found her criticism constructive and helpful. I also got outside sources in the Writing Center to read it over and give their thoughts. It was Jerry that helped me rearrange the order of conversation in order for easier reading. I feel that these content and style changes helped in the flow of the fiction.

            The class also caught my slight obsession with ocular references. This is a bad habit of mine, and I did go through and try to change some of these instances. Not all were changed, but I lessened the frequency of their occurrence. JT was kind enough to help me also with my German phrasing. I try very hard for authenticity for my writing, especially when I use foreign languages. Further research into Germany the country itself may even prove beneficial to me. It’s another thing I may try to do to improve it.

            Another thing the class brought up was the lack of true malicious intent on Ana’s part. For this reason, I added a scene in the flashbacks to give an idea of what sort of things she does to get Mozart in trouble. I believe this helps get a better picture of the sibling rivalry between them. Even still, I think I could and might add one or more flashbacks in there if it doesn’t seem to disrupt the flow. Mainly though, people wanted an actual reunion at the end. This I considered, but finally decided against. If I do write a reunion, it’ll be like a sequel. I meant the ending to be very realistic, yet open to the reader to decide on how the events will play out.

            I enjoyed writing this story, and really hope to play on a few more of the ideas that the class brought to my attention. I don’t want to expand too much though for this class. That is why I didn’t add as much content as I wished to. I believe as a stand alone, it answers the conflict effectively even if a reader may want more. I want the reader to think on it; if I can incite thought in my audience then I feel that I’ve come close to my goal in writing. This is the final product of my written fiction.