Late hunt E-Book

Oskar Bitter

• Herausgeber: novum publishing
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2024

Seitenzahl: 531

Beschreibung

Something is wrong in the traditional world of the scouts. Scout Georg Molenbrick is unsettled by the behavior of some of his elders. As a twelve-year-old, he escapes abuse by the skin of his teeth. The "Fahrende Schar" scout association falls into disrepute. But the perpetrators remain in office. They harass Georg at every opportunity. He seeks revenge and crosses boundaries in the process. Detective Inspector Mirko Jägers becomes aware of him. Then events come thick and fast. The late hunt begins.

Leseprobe

Quote

Betrayals are often committed out of weakness

than with the expressed intention of betraying.

François VI Duc de La Rochefoucauld (1613-1680)

Foreword

At the proud age of eighty-five, the single Faustus Molenbrick moves into a room in the retirement home in his home town. He is happy that he has finally found a place in Neu-Moritzhain.

Three weeks after moving in - on Maundy Thursday - Mr. Molenbrick's niece and her daughter prepare to clear out their abandoned home. While inspecting the property, they accidentally come across a pull rod for the attic hatch in the broom closet upstairs. Without thinking twice, they pull down the steep extension ladder and climb up. They reach a bare, unused-looking drying floor. In some places, the mortar has crumbled off the roof tiles and is lying around on the dusty floor. At one end, they stand in front of a brick wall, behind which there must be another room. They hadn't expected this. After a few attempts, they finally find the right key that fits into the padlock of the locked door. They eagerly enter the attic.

The glass pane of the round window at the front of the attic is completely dirty. Almost no light can get through. They search in vain for a light switch next to the door frame. The daughter pulls her flashlight out of her jacket pocket and shines it around the room. The sloping roofs have been covered here. The walls are covered in stained woodchip wallpaper. In some places, they have peeled away from the surface. It smells musty and slightly smoky. The first things they discover are Karl May novels, several nature guides and an ancient encyclopaedia on the wall shelf to the left of the door. On the other side is a narrow chest of drawers. Someone has placed a rolled-up black leather belt with a metal buckle and an olive-green haversack there. The latter is often worn by hikers and scouts as a shoulder bag alongside their rucksack. The two have often seen this on their excursions. Wool blankets and sheets are stowed away in the drawers. Faustus Molenbrick's great-niece plops down on a comfortable armchair in front of the empty desk under the gable window. The wobbling beam of her flashlight stirs up a lot of dust. The mother stumbles over the cable of a floor lamp and pulls it out of the socket. The daughter then shines the light on the wall, finds the connection, pushes the plug back in and flicks the switch. It immediately lights up brightly through the slightly tattered, lime green fabric shade. Together they examine the cast-iron stove, which has plenty of white-grey ash left in it. A brittle wicker basket stands next to it. A few logs and a box of matches lie in it. They pull a chamber pot out from under the bed. It is empty. No doubt about it: this is not a storage room. Someone has furnished this room. But it must have been a long time ago.

Where the small skylight is located, the lower part of the sloping roof is separated by a meter-high wooden panel. Two warped hinged doors, which they can only open with the greatest of difficulty, squeaking and creaking, allow the two sleuths to see into the storage space behind them. Apparently it has never been used. But then the flashlight shines on two objects smeared with a rusty brown substance: a driving knife and an opened pocket knife. In their excitement, they almost overlook the crumpled note. The message it contains sounds both stilted and threatening:

"You wretched wicked man! Your shameful deed cries out for immediate retribution. The blade is sharpened. The hunt begins. The angel of death hovers over you. The relentless avenger is on his way."

The letters have been cut out of a newspaper and glued onto the sheet. Is there dried blood on the knives? The threatening letter suggests so. They leave everything where it is. Followed by her mother, the daughter climbs back down the ladder. They don't want to stay up there a second longer.

"This chamber was kept secret from us. But why? What happened there?" asks the shocked daughter. The mother shrugs her shoulders and replies uncertainly: "I didn't expect anything like that. It's not at all like Uncle Faustus. I wonder what he'll say?"

First of all, they stop all further preparations for clearing out the house and consider how best to proceed in this matter. Uncle is still quite mentally alert and makes a generally balanced impression. Even at the risk of making their discovery unpleasant for him, they consider him resilient in this respect. Even if someone else had been in the attic with his consent, Faustus Molenbrick must have known nothing about the objects that were obviously deliberately hidden in the sloping roof.

So they call him at the retirement home. On the phone in his room. Because no one answers, they dial the reception number.

There they learn that their relative has had a bad fall today and hit his head hard on a stone slab: during his usual daily walk through the residential home's green area. He always did this straight after breakfast in good weather. Three hours ago, he was picked up by an ambulance and taken to the Eibenstadt hospital.

They call there immediately and are transferred to the intensive care unit. Too late! Their relative died a few minutes ago as a result of serious injuries. The retirement home is now notified. The ward doctor briefly describes the circumstances:

"It all happened so suddenly that the old man barely suffered. He never regained consciousness here. And then his heart stopped beating."

They are shocked and need some time to digest the news. The desolate atmosphere in the abandoned house is almost unbearable. To distract themselves, mother and daughter consider the consequences of their new situation:

"We could dispose of the incriminating objects once and for all. Nobody knows anything about it yet. But what if there are more surprises like this waiting for us?" the grandniece asks. "Then this is just the tip of the iceberg."

"Please don't paint the devil on the wall! If Uncle Faustus really had something to do with it, he can't be prosecuted anyway. But if someone has been guilty behind his back, I want to know about it!" replies the mother. "If someone has shamelessly taken advantage of his good nature."

The daughter has nothing to counter this. For a while, they continue to argue. Finally they give in and inform the police. Even though they have a guilty conscience towards their uncle. Nevertheless!

"You never know ..." says the mother. "Just in case. Not that we'll be accused of hiding something later," confirms the daughter. "I won't stick my neck out for that."

A short time later, a police car pulls up outside the house. And in Eibenstädt, a well-connected, sensationalist reporter from the "Hochwald-Kurier" makes his way to Neu-Moritzhain.

The death of Faustus Molenbrick has hit the two women hard. Late in the evening, they are finally able to mourn him in silence.

Elvira, the niece.

Her daughter Okka, the grandniece.

Each one for itself.

Each alone at home.

I

1966

He has never been on the road for so long without them. Without his parents: dad Julius and mom Christa. Without his siblings: the twins Maria and Bernd, who are two years older. Everyone envies him because he is going on a "big trip" with the scouts. Of course, his curiosity has got the better of him. Excitement and anticipation grow from day to day. His group is fine. He wants to keep his guide, Wolfgang Pahlmann, at a distance. There's something about his manner that bothers him: sometimes he's too strict, sometimes he's too nice.

Everyone packs what they absolutely need for the two weeks in their knapsack: A change of clothes, toiletry bag, pocket knife or travel dagger, cooking utensils with mug and cutlery. The rest of the equipment consists of a cord pot, provisions, first aid kit, matches, candles, flashlight, maps and compass. There is also a small hatchet. They use it to fell young beech or birch trees for the tent poles. Or they cut thick branches for pegs and sharpen them. Or they make kindling. The collapsible mini spade is also part of the kit. So that they can dig drainage channels around the tent in heavy rain. They really are equipped for all eventualities. What they take with them over and above their personal needs is always divided up fairly between them. Finally, the sleeping bags are rolled up as tightly as possible in tent sheets or rain ponchos and then strapped to the backpacks with leather straps.

"It looks like an upside-down U," says Georg to his dad Julius, who helped him roll it up.

The knapsacks are not light, but they are easy to carry. Although they may look a little monstrous on the boys' backs to outsiders. Only Wolfgang's is too heavy for the others, because he takes on the hordesack, in which they also stow some of the food. The group leader straps the large metal container to the tabs provided on the lid of his "monkey". This is what these satchels covered in brown cowhide are actually called: the animal hair repels moisture from rain or snow. They cook packet soups, potatoes, noodles, semolina porridge, water for tea or whatever else in the pot on a fireplace secured with stones. They take it in turns to carry Wolfgang's guitar. Nothing works without this utensil. And without extensive breaks, they would not be able to complete their respective stages.

Their tent is a so-called kothe, a model similar to the dwellings of the Sami people in Lapland. The undersides of the four tent panels are tied together and anchored to the ground with pegs. The narrower, upper ends have to be attached to a cross made of branches. Then they tie two thin tree trunks together at the top to form a fork and place them across the tent. While two of them hold the trunks, Wolfgang throws a rope over the fork and ties one end to the middle of the cross. He then crawls under the tent panels and pulls the kothe up so far that the tension gives the whole thing a stable hold. Now the free end of the rope is firmly knotted to the cross and the tent stands like a rock. Georg is always amazed at how ingeniously this system works. But only if the pegs are really firmly anchored in the ground. Apart from everything else, the successful erection of the Kothe also depends on finding a suitable spot.

The opening created by the cross is covered with a tarpaulin to protect against rain. Otherwise, it forms the smoke outlet when they leave a fire burning in the middle of the tent. On cold nights, they take turns for the night watch, which always lasts a full hour. Georg thinks it's great to keep the fire burning between three and four in the morning and stare into the flames. He has never fallen asleep at this post. Wolfgang appreciates that: Georg volunteers for this critical period and you can always rely on him. The others usually don't make it through this phase and nod off again after a few minutes. If someone happens to wake up later, the fire has gone out and has to be rekindled with the remaining embers.

It's Friday when they finally go on a trip, two days after the start of the summer vacation. Their scout group roams through a lonely low mountain range. They get water for their canteens from the widely scattered farms and small villages. The people are helpful. Sometimes they even come across a spring in the forest. With their equipment, they can move perfectly in the terrain. No matter what the weather is like.

Today they hike through a narrow valley. At one point, the stream dams up to form a small lake. The water is crystal clear. They want to cool off. Georg is the first to slip into his swimming trunks. He is a water rat. Suddenly Wolfgang looks at him angrily.

"In our boys' club, we don't go into the water with our clothes on. We either swim naked or we don't."

Then the group leader undresses and stands in front of them with his legs apart in his fully developed manhood. Georg is unsettled and looks past him. He fixates on a tree root on the bank. Papa Julius has never exposed himself so intrusively in front of him.

"Are you going to drag your wet swimming trunks around with you later?"

The other boys grin and jump stark naked into the fresh water. Except Georg. He goes into the water as usual and swims the longest. Afterwards, he wrings out his swimming trunks and wraps them in a towel. Tonight he doesn't get anything to eat. Normally, this is the punishment for misdemeanors such as burping or farting while eating together when they sit opposite each other in a circle. You are allowed to finish eating in this round, but you have to sit out the next time. Wolfgang's maxim:

"Without discipline, we are a rotten bunch! Our behavior should be exemplary - not a deterrent. We don't want to behave like hooligans. "

Georg used to see it the same way. But what's rowdy about him going into the water in his swimming trunks? That's completely out of line. Sometimes their group leader can be really unpleasant. Nevertheless, the alleged hooligan puts on a good face. He doesn't let this ridiculous measure stop him from doing what he thinks is right. He finds the behavior of his group leader extremely unsportsmanlike. He is also disappointed in his comrades:

"I never thought they'd all pull together with Wolfgang on something so mean."

They are currently topping their slices of bread with tinned breakfast meat and dividing up the cherries plundered from a tree on the dirt track. Meanwhile, they make all kinds of jokes about their uptight comrade-in-arms, especially Wolfgang. Nobody suspects that Georg keeps a milk and nut chocolate in his secret pocket in his knapsack "just in case": wrapped in newspaper and stowed in a thick woollen stocking for safety. After watching the others eat for a while, he stands up and says by way of explanation:

"Must step out."

He crawls into the toilet for a moment and secretly grabs the emergency ration. When he comes out again, he demonstratively holds a half-used roll of toilet paper in his hand. Wolfgang nods graciously at him.

"Don't forget the shovel!"

By this, the group leader means that he should bury what he has left behind well. That's standard practice among the scouts. Georg grabs the small spade stuck in the ground next to the tent and sets off. He sits down in the leaves behind a huge beech tree trunk and eats his fill. The table has already melted a little, but he doesn't mind:

"I don't care about the form. What's important is the content. Hm, that's delicious! If only the others knew ..."

How good that their journey comes to an end the very next day. When they arrive at the station late in the evening, they stand in a circle in the entrance hall and sing a song they practised on the way: "When the colorful flags fly. "1This is customary as a farewell and is one of the unwritten laws of their alliance. Georg thinks it's proper to part like this after a trip. The parents listen to their sons' full-throated singing with great enthusiasm. They can hardly wait to receive their protégés.

Dad Julius hasn't come along, but is visiting the open-air movie theater in the Eibenstadt city park with Maria and Bernd. Wolfgang greets mom Christa and strokes Georg's hair a little roughly as a farewell. Georg wants to unwrap his present for his mother: a gnome carved with great difficulty from a rather hard root. Wolfgang helps him take off the knapsack. He even carries it to his mother's car and puts it in the trunk. Why does Wolfgang treat him like a toddler? Then he'll just give the runt to mom Christa later. He has carved a cat for his sister, also from a root. Bernd gets a particularly beautiful rose quartz stone from one of the many streams they had to cross. Dad Julius comes away empty-handed for now. He will have to be patient until he has enlarged one of the really successful shots from the road. Maybe he'll take the one of the ruffed hen. He has never seen such a huge specimen of this mushroom before. It will certainly impress his father as much as it does him. But first Georg has to develop the film at home in the small darkroom in the cellar. Wolfgang sees his parents standing in front of the station building. They wave to them, but make no move to come any closer. Georg thinks they look pretty old.

"I didn't even know they were coming to pick me up. So much the better. Knowing my parents, I'm sure they're super excited. Georg, see you next time. Oh, there's the national reunion at the Landheim in three weeks' time on Saturday. Don't forget to bring the photos. Bye, Mrs. Molenbrick."

Georg is eleven. Wolfgang celebrated his sixteenth birthday a few weeks before their trip and invited the "bats" to an ice cream parlor. Their group decided on this name. Bats have a fantastic sense of direction. They are very familiar with these creatures. When they are out and about, they never miss an opportunity to observe the common noctules at dusk. Until the darkness swallows them up for good. There are almost always some on the move somewhere.

On the hunt for insects.

*

The narrow, bumpy Hochwälder Landstraße leads from Eibenstädt to the district capital Clausburg. Since the new highway was built, it has mainly been used by the residents of the villages and farmsteads that lie directly on this route. At a secluded spot, a lush, overgrown dirt track with deep ruts branches off the road. It is a good seven kilometers from here to Ober-Waldheim, the next village. Right at the junction, there are two wooden posts to which a dark green sign with three lines of lettering is screwed. Framed by two stylizedlilies2, passers-by can see the sign "LANDHEIM". Below this is "Pfadfinderbund" and below that "Fahrende Schar". The yellow lettering stands out clearly from the background.

The secluded property cannot be seen from the country road. It blends inconspicuously into the hilly landscape characterized by small groups of trees, pastures and cultivated farmland. The nearest residents live in the resettlement farm next to the wooded hill on the eastern horizon. If you venture this far during the week and outside the school vacations, you won't meet a soul.

None?

Appearances are deceptive!

The country home stands on the edge of an extensive meadow, bordered by a dense hedge of shrubs almost three meters high. On a beautiful early summer's day, the neighboring farmer is working there with his tractor. The grass has already shot up and needs mowing. Today is Wednesday. At first glance, the house looks deserted. When the farmer changes his line of vision again as he drives his rounds, he sees something shimmering white through the branches behind the bushes right next to the building. But he can't make out what it is. After mowing everything down and piling it up in long rows to dry, he heads for the well-paved dirt road behind the country home. This also leads to Ober-Waldheim and is much shorter than the Hochwälder Landstraße. Anyone familiar with the area would prefer this route if they were coming from Eibenstädt. Even by car. Just as he is about to turn into the finely gravelled lane, he sees a white VW 1500 Variant estate rolling out of the bushes. He waits and lets the car pull up. At the wheel is a man he estimates to be in his early thirties. A blond-haired boy sits in the seat next to him, staring transfixed at the tractor and not responding to his wave. The farmer is surprised:

"The little guy looks like something terrible has just happened to him. As if he's had a shock. In contrast, the scouts I come across here from time to time always look very relaxed and happy."

The tractor chugs quietly along while the driver can't get the boy's gaze out of his head.

"Perhaps his companion told him the scary stories about the ruined monastery by the marshy pond. About the decapitated abbess who is said to haunt the place."

The almost completely overgrown ruin is located a few hundred meters away from the Landheim. You have to know the way well. It's an eerie place where people rarely stray.

"But that's not why the boy looked so distraught. Seriously, what are they doing here anyway? In the middle of the week. Without all the others who are usually there?"

Behind the next hill, the farmer turns into the driveway to the farm. His wife and two daughters are waiting for him for dinner. That takes his mind off things.

"Finally off work!"

*

The covered veranda, which extends across the entire front of the house, and the four French windows through which it can be accessed, give the country home a majestic and rustic feel. The wine-red roof tiles and the roughly plastered, white-painted walls emphasize this almost Mediterranean architectural style. Apart from the handsome porch, it is a simple, single-storey building with a converted attic.

During the day, sufficient light enters the cellar rooms through window shafts to enable people to find their way around the kitchen and the laundry room opposite. In addition, the large, white-tiled kitchen is brightly lit by a flickering tube on the ceiling. A barred light bulb hangs on the wall in the basement corridor and in the laundry room. This means that the two rooms are only sparsely lit. After sunset, this is no place for scaredy-cats. The five showers in the washroom have no cubicles or curtains. There are toilets outside in the courtyard in an annex.

On the first floor there is a cozy room with a fireplace for group evenings and a spacious dining room, which is also used for regular meetings of the members. Sometimes a large number of scouts from various villages in the Hochwald region sit together here, singing and telling stories. At the back of the first floor is a room with ten simple camp beds for sleeping.

The groups usually have five to eight members, often with a slight fluctuation of dropouts and new members. The leader wears the emblem-shaped federal badge over the right breast pocket of his uniform shirt. It shows a wild duck in flight, embroidered with yellow thread on light blue fabric. Next in the hierarchy of the Scout Association are the wearers of the black neckerchief with a yellow border: the Wolves. One or two newcomers usually bring up the rear.3The latter have not yet undergone a test and are waiting to be baptized as wolves, which takes place according to strict rules: walking barefoot through the snow in winter and crossing a cornfield blindfolded in summer. Although these are the more harmless variants. Only then is the scarf awarded.

A large dormitory has been set up in the converted attic. There are twelve two-storey beds in this room. In two rows of six beds each with a central corridor between them. The squeaky monsters made of steel and wire are covered with filthy horsehair mattresses and neatly folded gray youth hostel blankets. When fully occupied - which is rare - it's like a pigeon loft. At night, it always needs to be particularly well ventilated. The door to the left-hand gabled room, which is reserved for the group leaders, is then usually opened a crack: So that things don't go haywire. There is a separate room in the right-hand end wall - separated from the small corridor above the stairs. This is where the federal leader stays. He sleeps on a mattress, which is separated from the rest of the room by a fabric tarpaulin hanging from the ceiling - similar to a screen. If you take a closer look at this separate area, you will see two mattresses lying on the floor one behind the other.

Hans Lichtenstein, the brave federal leader from the neighboring yew town of Lurchheim, always has a chosen one to share his sleeping quarters for a shorter or longer period of time. Gerfried, the lanky, freckled dreamer and leader of the "stag beetle" group, has been doing this for quite a while this year. Gerfried goes to the same grammar school as Georg. Wolfgang once says a little enviously to his boys from the "bats":

"Gerfried is quite the artistic type. That's what our Hansi likes. We can't compete with that."

But Georg doesn't really understand what the older men are whispering about behind Hans and Gerfried's backs. The thought of sleeping head to toe next to the tarpaulin with this grown man makes him feel queasy every time. He is constantly trying not to attract Hans' attention. He looks in his direction often enough when they are sitting by the open fire in the fireplace and singing their travel songs. Too often.

In the morning, a fresh wind blows from the north-east. Today, Saturday, the Bundestreffen is in full swing. At midday, the governing body meets for the "Thing", as they call their meeting in reference to ancient Germanic customs. They want to work through the usual agenda:

TOP 1: Reflection on group activities.

TOP 2: Planning of the next meetings.

TOP 3: Big off-road game next spring.

TOP 4: Meeting with other boys' associations.

TOP 5: Finances.

Item 6: Maintenance of the country home.

TOP 7: Brochure "The fluttering pennant", issue 2/66.

The others have "free time" during the plenary session. Normally, in late summer, the tents of all the groups are set up on the large meadow in the circle. The weather forecast for the next few days is very mixed. Is that why the leaders have decided to spend the night indoors with their groups? Normally they are not so squeamish. In any case, they reap a fierce but futile storm of protest from the ever-adventurous boys:

"We also camp out in all weathers when we travel." - "Should we go soft here?" - "It's just stupid in the house."

Philipp Marong, Georg's best friend, was not with them during the summer vacation when they roamed through the low mountain range. Instead, he had to accompany his parents to Italy, to the Adriatic. Wolfgang still resents him for this.

Yesterday at dinner, you couldn't miss it. First, he had Philipp hand him the bread and thanked him profusely. Which sounded completely exaggerated. Then he leisurely cut off a slice and casually said:

"Well, on the crowded beaches in Rimini, you can't plunge into the water the way the good Lord created us. We plunged stark naked into the cool water of a dammed stream in the lonely valley! Well, except for our prude Georg, of course."

That was one of Wolfgang's famous double blows. He is considered unbeatable when it comes to dishing it out. Nevertheless, Philipp is still very enthusiastic about his fantastic vacation in the Mediterranean. He has to talk about it again and again. He proudly presents his comrades with the most beautiful shell he found on the beach and quickly hides it in the pocket of his leather breeches to hide it from Wolfgang. Sometimes he appears out of nowhere. He has mastered the art of sneaking up on people to perfection.

Georg and Philipp are now piling up logs in the middle of the meadow for the campfire that is to be lit tonight. Beforehand, together with a few boys from other groups, they have expertly laid a circle of boulders around the fire pit. Wolfgang is standing very close to them and is talking to another group leader called Egbert about the fact that some mothers complained before the meeting:

"It would be too uncomfortable in the tent on cold nights and in the rain. They fear that their much-loved sons might catch a cold before school starts again. Their complaints made Hans give in. Instructions from the federal leader: we're not allowed to set up our kitchens this time. Egbert, honestly, isn't that completely wrong?"

"Totally ridiculous! So it's the mothers who decide where things go. Wolfgang, they have absolutely no idea. Have they ever spent the night outdoors? Like we have? Hardly."

Egbert seems to be thinking hard.

"Hmm, so..."

Suddenly his face brightens.

"Well, they're just like girls. Mothers are like girls, there's nothing you can do."

Wolfgang no longer understands the world:

"Egbert, I just don't get it! Why is our national leader bowing down to them like this? We don't need someone who coddles our boys like that. They can take more than their moms think. What's wrong with the fathers? Why don't they have their children's backs? Do they have the slightest idea of what their wives are doing to our flock with this nonsense?"

On the way to the "Thing", the two of them walk past the overly motherly wolves without even giving them a glance. Georg suddenly remembers that his sister Maria has shown him a picture in the daily newspaper of girl scouts camping. And in this cool and sometimes rainy summer! Perhaps what Hans is saying and what the group leaders are willingly parroting is not true. At this point, Georg is absolutely sensitive. He doesn't give his mother any lip. Not on Maria either. Nevertheless, he doesn't want to let it spoil his good mood. After they have piled up enough wood, they meet up with Klaus, a boy from the "Hornets" group. The urge to explore has brought them together. They want to search for beetles, spiders and worms using the "Invertebrate Identification Book", a magnifying glass and an empty fruit jar with a perforated lid. Georg has stowed all the utensils in his olive green haversack and slung the strap around his shoulder.

It gets quite mild in the evening. The "big round" can therefore take place outside without any worries. They all sit in a circle around the brightly blazing campfire in the meadow far away from the country home. But most of them have taken theirjujas4out with themas a precaution and are sitting cross-legged on rain ponchos. One after the other, the groups report on their experiences on this year's "Big Trip". A spontaneously chosen spokesperson from each group sits next to the leader. In between, one or two songs are sung. Gerfried and twoRover4s, who have just returned from an adventurous hike in the Scottish Highlands, accompany them with their guitars, while Hans sets the beat on a drum. Cups of a hot mixture of black tea and orange juice make the rounds. Gradually, a good dose of red wine is added to the brew. The atmosphere is exuberant, the flames illuminate enthusiastic, glowing faces.

Georg has sat down with friends from the "stag beetles", with whom he is whispering about how annoying it sometimes is when the group leaders look out for two comrades on the road to give them some unpopular task: Fetching water, shopping in the next village, scouting out a suitable campsite. These are things that can be done together along the way, so no one has to be sent off from the rest area while the others enjoy their break and laze around. That's why they always look ahead to ensure that their route is as practical as possible. For example, it makes sense to head to a shopping area first and then continue along the edge of the forest. Even if it is a slight detour. On the other hand, they have already stocked up on provisions along the way and divided up the things among themselves to carry. When they come across a great campsite, everyone is happy. As the boys grin meaningfully at each other, Wolfgang calls over to them:

"Now it's your turn, Georg. Come and sit with us."

The narrator has to sit between his group leader and Hans. Georg is somehow embarrassed, he doesn't feel like it at all. But he pulls himself together, sits down in his assigned seat and reports on their adventurous hike. He starts to really enjoy it. He keeps the thread of the story and adds detail after detail. At the point where they get hopelessly lost and only reach the campsite on the grounds of the youth hostel in pitch darkness, everyone around them becomes as quiet as mice. Everyone is glued to his lips. That spurs him on. At the same time, he notices how Hans puts his hand on his shoulder - and doesn't take it away. It feels uncomfortable. What does this person want from him? His good mood takes a huge dampener. Unsettled, he looks at his group leader for a second, who gives him an encouraging nod. Despite the unpleasant touch, Georg thinks happily:

"Wolfgang is really proud of me."

After he has come to the end and everyone has applauded his exciting story, he frees himself with a jerk from the leader's hand, which is still clinging to his shoulder. Then he hurries back to his friends. Further trip reports follow. As always on such occasions, they form a circle at the end and sing "Ade nun zur guten Nacht". As the group is about to disperse, Hans approaches him and holds out a cup filled with red wine:

"That was a great story you just told us. Not a dull moment! The others can take a leaf out of your book. Georg, you're now one of our up-and-comers. Of course, they also have to learn not to keel over from a big drink. Go ahead ..."

No sooner said than done.

Georg doesn't know why he goes along with this nonsense without hesitation. He sipped the wine rather than drinking it quickly. After all, there was already some of the stuff in the tea. Although he is not entirely comfortable with Lichtenstein, he feels flattered by his words. He suddenly feels very light. He could hug everyone. He stares wide-eyed at Hans, who takes the cup back. His reserve towards this man threatens to melt away like a snowman in a thaw in the bright midday sun.

"Georg, you've got a good train on you. All respect! But now something else: didn't you take a single bath on the way? Normally everyone is crazy about it. Or have the bats become water-shy?"

The way he looks at him now seems somehow stern. Georg's head turns bright red. This is exactly the point he has just deliberately cheated his way past in his exciting report. This stupid Hans is suddenly treating him like a traitor. While he grins sheepishly and then stares at the ground, the federal leader takes a step closer and prepares to put his arm around him. At this moment, Wolfgang emerges from the darkness, steps between the two at the very last moment and pulls Georg behind him:

"The others are already brushing their teeth. Now hurry up a bit, it's almost bedtime."

As he walks, he turns around again briefly and calls out:

"See you Hans, I'll see you later."

Hans says nothing. With his group leader in tow, Georg turns his back on him and trots off in the direction of the country home. Wolfgang has helped him out of a tight spot.

"I'll never forget him!"

At night, he tosses and turns in his bunk bed. Philip sleeps soundly above him like a marmot. Georg can't stop thinking that Hans may have seen him drinking hardly any of the wine, but only taking a few tiny sips.

"What anice move! Why does he want to wrap me around his finger with such flattery?"

He still feels a very slight effect from the alcohol - despite the small dose. He finally falls asleep and has a terrible dream: Hans stands in front of his bed and bends down to him. In an imploring voice, he whispers in his ear:

"Why don't you come to my place? We'll make ourselves comfortable for a while. Gerfried's not here today. I've poured you another tiny sip of wine. Come on - or are you scared of me?"

Before he wakes up in shock, he thinks he has smelled Hans' disgusting scent of alcohol. Until dawn, he dozes off in displeasure. Sleep is no longer an option.

1967

At this year's national meeting at the Landheim, he meets Hans for the first time since the previous summer. He is friendly towards him, but remains unusually reserved. Georg is pleasantly surprised by this and at the end of the leisure time, Hans invites him to go hunting with him in the fall. For Georg, the ultimate nature lover, this is a huge sensation. He has never had an opportunity like this before. Although his great-uncle works in the forestry administration, he prefers to show him the flora of the local forests. Of course, he also knows all about animals, their way of life and their function in the environment. He is happy to pass on his knowledge to Georg. But now it's about something completely different: observing game from a high stand and - if necessary - shooting it. Pure adventure. The hide hunt. Who of his friends won't look up to him with envy when he tells them how he was up close and personal?

The federal leader actually picks him up from home at the crack of dawn on a Sunday in golden October in his ancient, already badly dented jeep. Beforehand, he exchanges a few words with Papa Julius. Among other things, Hans tells him that he only recently received permission from a tenant to hunt in his hunting ground. Georg was not surprised that his father had stayed up so late.

"I'm sure he wants to make sure I'm in good hands with Hans. There's no harm in that. Better safe than sorry. Hans has totally sucked up to Dad. Does he need that? It's fucking disgusting, this affable behavior. When it's only about a harmless hunting trip."

Hans and Georg are finally on their way to Lurchheimer Forst as planned at half past two. Someone is already waiting for them at the spot in the forest from which they want to start, casually leaning back against the driver's door of a brand new white VW Estate. But Hans hasn't told him anything about this. Does Dad know? A certain Peter Zarßcke wants to accompany them on their venture. Georg somehow recognizes the man. He is a few years older than Hans and seems to be a close friend. When they greet each other, the two of them hug conspicuously fiercely. Georg finds this somehow exaggerated, almost embarrassing. Then they exchange sentences peppered with hunting jargon that are completely incomprehensible to outsiders. They seem like old buddies to him, who have experienced many things together and have been hunting together since time immemorial. Georg suddenly feels like a fifth wheel. This is certainly not how he had imagined the hunting trip in his great anticipation. After a while, the man turns to him and introduces himself:

"Well, my boy, I'm a teacher at the Christian Heinrich Rinck Grammar School. German, Latin and history. I also offer the Spanish club as a third foreign language. Oh, um, I almost forgot: The area where we are traveling today is mine. I leased it not so long ago from the Waldheim hunting cooperative. That was a real stroke of luck! The hunting ground is actually called 'Sonntagsjägers Grund'5.But don't worry, Hans and I are real hunters, hahaha! Even if today is Sunday, hahaha."

He looks Georg up and down with amusement. Suddenly he frowns and seems to be thinking hard about something. Then his face brightens:

"Now I've got it! You go to our school too, don't you?Gosh, of course, I've seen you in the school playground a few times The way you romped around with the others. Always at the forefront, aren't you? Maybe I'll get your class in Latin in the sixth form. You're a great bunch - you're lucky not to have to take any girls from the district yet. The first mixed classes have just moved into our boys' grammar school. We're powerless against that. Well, you got away with it again. Or do you already have a girlfriend?"

"No, well ... of course not. Why should I? I'd rather be with my friends: with the 'bats'. That's the name of my scout group."

Georg is not entirely at ease with this guy. He has often seen Zarßcke from a distance: When he's supervising the school playground at break time, he almost always clowns around with a group of boys from the upper school and acts as if he's one of them. Fortunately, Zarßcke has different classes in the lower school. Georg's Latin teacher is called Mrs. Riemenschneider and he gets on really well with her. But now the unexpectedly arrived teacher is annoying him with his chummy chatter. That has absolutely no place here! He finds this affable intrusiveness extremely unpleasant. The stupid guy makes him feel insecure as hell. As if he had to justify himself to him. But for what?

"I know, I know. Georg, I used to be in the scouts - right after the war. At the age of twelve, I was already involved in rebuilding the 'Fahrende Schar'! My group was called the 'Siebenschläfer': lazy in winter, hyperactive in summer. Hahaha! I had the nickname 'Splitti'. Because I was the first to jump into the water stark naked at every opportunity. Hahaha! It was a great group! A paradise for real boys."

Georg's head turns bright red again. He feels like a small child who doesn't know what's happening to him. And not like a twelve-year-old high school student and wolf hunting. How excited he was to receive the invitation from the leader! He wants to get very close to the animals in the forest. At four o'clock in the morning, when the moon has not yet set. Long before the morning mist is slowly displaced by the rising sun. Whether buck or doe, he secretly hopes for a sick deer that has to be shot to protect the other animals.

Meanwhile, they are sitting in front of a clearing on the high stand. But this cocky Zarßcke ruins the whole tour for him. He dislikes the man more and more every minute. What Georg finds worst of all is the way he keeps saying "my dear Hänschen". It doesn't get any nastier than that. Why does Hans put up with it?

The infrared binoculars are passed from hand to hand. Hans sits in the middle so that Georg has enough distance from Zarßcke. Let's hope it stays that way. The men keep their hunting rifles at the ready. To no avail, no animal approaches the clearing. Not even a wild rabbit. At first, Georg was wide awake with excitement. But now he is fighting fatigue. At a quarter past five, Zarßcke becomes restless. He has to get back to the parking lot right away because of some family appointment.

"Unfortunately, but my mother and her sister insist. They want me to drive them to a reunion of their confirmation group in Bad Laubenroth. Of course, they expect me to bring her back. Apparently Eibenstädt is no longer good enough for them - it always has to be something special. If I don't make a run for it now, it's going to be tight. They don't care that I spend the whole day hanging around in the spa gardens twiddling my thumbs. Of course, the old ladies have zero understanding for us men. They know no mercy. The church club is more important to them than anything else. Now you'll have to carry on without me. It's really too bad. I would have loved to stay with you."

He grins conspiratorially at her and gives Hans a smacking kiss right on the mouth before climbing down the ladder. Georg is horrified. Thank God Zarßcke only offers him his hand. It feels like gripping damp absorbent cotton. At last the teacher has disappeared into the darkness. What remains is the lousy cold that permeates everything. Hans takes something out of his large rucksack.

"Georg, let's wait together under the blanket. That way we can keep each other warm. I'm sure we'll get something in front of the shotgun. I saw lots of wild boar tracks here the day before yesterday. And the droppings of foxes."

Georg thinks that's obvious. When you're shivering from the cold, you can't see well through the infrared binoculars. They sit close together for a while. It's getting warmer. Hans suddenly starts breathing strangely. Heavy, almost moaning. He rubs his hand on Georg's thigh. Then he gently pulls Georg's left hand towards him and places it in his lap. His fly is wide open. Georg cries out:

"Let go of me, you filthy pig!"

With his right hand, he obsessively pulls his driving knife, a Finn dagger, out of the sheath on his belt and stabs Hans in the thigh. Not deeply, just a little. It's enough to make Hans yelp. Georg takes his haversack, frantically throws the knife into it and climbs quickly - but with concentration - down the ladder. Always looking upwards to keep an eye on the reactions of the leader. But he seems to be glued to the high platform. Only his whimpering can be heard, interspersed with the occasional curse:

"You vile little bastard, you'll pay for this!"

Georg disappears into the thicket at the edge of the clearing. A quick glance at the blade of the finned dagger frightens him deeply.

"Is that blood? That much? From that little prick! That can't be true!"

No matter. It can't be helped. He puts the knife back in its sheath. He jumps over branches and half-rotten tree stumps and fights his way through almost impenetrable bushes. Fear is breathing down his neck. When he thinks he is out of reach, he calms down. He immediately wants to tell Papa Julius and Mama Christa about this outrageous incident.

"What will they say to that? And what about the twins?"

Georg wasn't expecting this. Although - the kinky groping is not entirely unexpected. Before the meeting with Hans, he warned himself to be careful:

"There's so much talk. You never know ..."

And quickly calms down again:

"After all, it's all about the hunt. We're sitting on the high stand. What's going to happen there? I'm not spending the night in his room in the country house."

Then he stumbles and falls lengthways. He has stumbled into a trap. A wild boar is stuck with its left front leg in an iron stirrup, surrounded by a rusty brown mass: blood. Plenty of blood.

"There was a poacher at work. Or an animal abuser."

It happens all the time. He has heard of it before. The young animal - probably an almost two-year-old defector looking for its pack - is very weak and barely makes any perceptible noises. How long has it been lying here? Georg has the impression that the animal's eyes are begging him for mercy. As if under hypnosis, he takes his pocket knife out of the haversack. It is sharper than the finned dagger. He knows exactly what he has to do. He ends the ordeal with a slash across the throat. Then he dashes through the forest towards the edge of town. He knows this section well. How often has he walked over hill and dale here with his godfather to pick mushrooms or identify plants? Thanks to his orientation, he ends up at the suburban train station in Eibenstädt. What luck that he always has his monthly pass with him. But he doesn't go home. He gets on the first bus to Neu-Moritzhain. His parents are waiting for him at the latest after their visit to the church service. The church clock strikes eight times.

*

Faustus Molenbrick is Papa Julius' uncle and Georg's godfather. He works as a clerk in the forestry administration of Neu-Moritzhain. His wife, Aunt Mildred, suffered from a serious illness. In the end, she was in hospital and was supplied with oxygen through a respirator mask. Georg visited her together with his mother Christa and Gerhard, Faustus and Mildred's son. Gerhard is Georg's second cousin. Aunt Mildred was hanging from the device like a bellows. It looked terrible. Shortly after the visit, she was cruelly released: she died alone with the machines running. They were only switched off a few minutes later.

Faustus Molenbrick now lives alone.

Great-nephew - and godson - Georg rushes up the gravel path to his uncle's house. He sprints the last few meters. As if the devil is after him. He rings the front doorbell as if possessed, but Faustus takes his time, he is just clearing the breakfast dishes from the table. Then he finally opens the front door for Georg.

"Boy, why are you ringing the doorbell today? That's not usually your style. Are you being hounded by Satan? What's happened?"

Before Georg can say anything, he has to catch his breath. Then he lets out a short breath:

"Oh, just for fun. Thought you were crawling around in the cellar again. Could have been."

"But not on Sunday morning, Georg. I didn't know you were coming to visit me today."

"Oh, Uncle Faustus, I was out hunting at the crack of dawn today. With our federal leader from the scouts. Unfortunately, we came away empty-handed. Well, and when we passed near your house afterwards, I wanted to take a detour to see you."

"So, hunting from a hide. All respect! And now you're with me. All right. That's fine with me. If your parents are okay with it."

"I'll call them later, they're still in church now."

"Well, come on in then."

That settles the matter.

*

The detached house with its large meadow stands right on the edge of the forest, far away from the village. Georg comes here often. Sometimes with his parents and siblings, but much more often alone. It always happens by itself, almost automatically. He and Uncle Faustus have a real kindred spirit. At least that's what Papa Julius once said. In truth, the two of them share a big secret. Because Faustus Molenbrick fears that Georg is sometimes neglected by his parents in relation to the twins, he spoils him a little.

When the house was built many years ago, he had a room partitioned off in the attic at the back, facing the forest. Just in case. After many years of vacancy, this is now Georg's realm. Faustus had once read something in a novel about a secret chamber where an aging castle servant retreated to write his memoirs undisturbed. He called the room the "Oasis". This is now the name of the attic room. "Oasis" sounds mysterious. More importantly, no outsider understands what it means. In any case, it doesn't sound like an "attic room". The boy can retreat there whenever he wants.

His uncle has gradually furnished the room with everything the secret resident needs. There are some books on the shelf that date back to his own youth. Georg has brought a few reference books about local plants and animals from home. No one there will notice. And if they do. Then he has just lent them to someone in his class or from the scouts. Faustus Molenbrick has found some of his son's old clothes in a chest in the cellar. His wife must have taken them with her when she moved out of her old apartment, even though Gerhard never moved in. Just in case, he packed them in the wardrobe for his godson to change into. A sleeping bag is rolled out on the covered mattress of the bed. The host has also provided a pillow at the head end and a woollen blanket at the foot end. Georg reads, tinkers with something on the ancient desk that has been reassembled up here or looks out of the round window and lets his thoughts run free. On his last visit, he finally managed to get the ship in a bottle upright - after a few dramatic failed attempts. Now it stands proudly on its pedestal without any pulling strings. As if it had been conjured up. He wants to show it to Philipp one day. Not here, of course, but at home with his parents.

Faustus Molenbrick sometimes wonders about this, but when he visits him, his nephew seems to like to keep to himself. He spends hours alone in the attic without complaining of boredom. Nevertheless, they always do things together: they go on long excursions in the surrounding area, have long chats over dinner in the kitchen, go into town to do the shopping or visit someone. When the boy stays overnight, he sleeps exclusively in the "Oasis". Nobody suspects a thing.

When Georg visits with his parents and the twins, the attic remains off-limits. Even when his cousin Elvira comes over: she is the daughter of dad's sister Berit. Then they play together in the living room or outside in the garden. Sometimes they also roam around the edge of the forest - within sight of the house. Aunt Berit is overprotective, so they have to take that into consideration. As a boy scout and experienced ranger, Georg can laugh his head off about it. Maria and Bernd no longer play at all. They put emphasis on being grown-ups, sit stiffly on the sofa and spend the whole afternoon watching TV shows: "Well asked is half done", "Bonanza" or "Beat Club". At the same time, they drink tons of orange soda. If they can't find anything interesting on the program, they read comics or "Bravo". They listen to the latest hits on the radio. Sometimes they fidget to the beat of the music as if they have chills. Georg is always deeply impressed when he surprises them.

"Really cool, the way they act."

The adults spend most of their time in the conservatory or on the veranda and leave the children to their own devices. What they have to discuss each time is too important to them. At least judging by the volume at which they talk incessantly and constantly blow cigarette smoke in each other's faces.

When Faustus Molenbrick and his wife moved into this house, their son Gerhard had just started his apprenticeship as a printer in a distant city in the north of the country. He lives there with a distant relative and rarely travels to Neu-Moritzhain. He knows nothing about the chamber. If at all, he only drops in for a visit. Apart from Georg and his uncle, nobody climbs up from the second floor to the drying floor. They hide the pull bar for the hatch with the extension ladder in the broom cupboard. So that no one is tempted. There is a tumble dryer in the cellar next to the washing machine. This luxury appliance is the uncle's pride and joy. If anyone ever asks what's under the roof, Faustus Molenbrick says:

"Nothing. The laundry is dried in the cellar. The Miele appliance takes care of that. It's great what technology can do these days. But it also cost a pretty penny."

Sometimes he then has to demonstrate the dryer.

But there are also more resistant requests. In such cases, he adds:

"The floor is simply not being used. Nobody goes up there. At most when the roof needs to be repaired. But that's a long way off yet."

Today Georg is somehow different than usual: restless, nervous. Suddenly he stares out of the window as if absent-minded. Then he starts fidgeting in his chair again. If the boy needs anything after his hunting trip, it's probably a little refreshment first. So Faustus Molenbrick puts a mug of hot chocolate and a plate of honey bread on the table and says:

"Go for it! It can happen that you sit on the high stand all night for nothing. The game goes its own way."

But Georg's thoughts are now in a completely different place and he has absolutely no desire to talk about his "hunting adventure".

"Uncle Faustus, a real oasis, like a place of refuge, has to be absolutely safe. Otherwise you have no peace and quiet. If anyone can get in there, the whole thing makes no sense at all. Then the henchmen would have access to me. We can't let that happen!"

"What henchmen, Georg?"

"Just suppose a werewolf sneaks onto the drying floor at night through an open hatch or a gap between the roof tiles. Then he tears open the door to the room and jumps into my bed in one leap, right on top of me."

"Well, you have a vivid imagination. What kind of trash are you reading right now? It's definitely not one of my books. I simply don't believe it. Are you trying to make a fool of me?"

"For God's sake, Uncle Faustus. I just feel safer when you can lock the chamber door from the inside. That's quite normal, isn't it?"

"I see, that's where the wind comes from."

So far, the door can only be locked from the outside. Of course, this is not possible when Georg is in there. His uncle suspects that Georg is afraid of the large, dark drying floor. Perhaps he sometimes feels a little queasy, especially when Faustus Molenbrick leaves the house during the day or when there is no sound from the first floor at night.

"Georg, how about we put a bolt on the inside? So you can lock the door yourself. Then you'll have peace and quiet. And you can get out again at any time."

"That's great, Uncle Faustus. If you knock, I'll open the door for you, of course. Three short, two long. That's how we do it."

"All right, let's go down to the cellar now. Let's see if I can find a suitable bolt in the workroom. If we find one, we'll install it straight away."

When Georg calls his parents, they have just come home. They are surprised that he is at Uncle Faustus', but they agree. They want to pick him up by car before dinner. Dad Julius asks him curiously how it was on the hunt.

"That was great. Dad, we weren't out stalking though. We sat on the high stand the whole time. That's called 'hide hunting'. It was pretty cold out there, but I was wearing the lined parka. It's great! Too bad, I only saw one wild boar, a stag. It was like a spell. Hans let me out near Uncle Faustus. I walked the rest on foot. It wasn't that far. By the way, Dad, do you know a Peter Zarßcke? He's supposed to teach Latin at my school."

"We've never heard of him before. Now Mrs. Riemenschneider is responsible for you. I haven't come across any other Latin teachers yet. And neither has your mother, otherwise I would know about it. Why is this so important to you, Georg?"

"No, it's not at all. It could have been that the name means something to you. Dad, you know everyone. The man teaches Miranda's neighbor's son in high school or something. They mentioned him once. That he was supposed to be funny. But I can't remember why. It just came to me. It doesn't really matter."

"Who is Miranda?"

"Dad, you've really become forgetful! Miranda and I were in the same class at elementary school, even though she's almost three quarters of a year younger than me. I even invited her to my birthday a few times."

"Oh yes, I can still remember that. Wasn't that your first crush? Your first big crush?"

"Huh? Dad, keep dreaming. I'm hanging up now. Uncle Faustus needs me in the garden. See you later then."

So Hans didn't say a word to his father about Zarßcke coming along on the hunting trip. It's damn sneaky how these guys go about it. They do exactly the opposite of what they preach to others. The "great scout's word of honor" my ass! He won't believe anything they say.

*

After lunch, Georg climbs up the ladder, unlocks his chamber and pushes the new bolt forward from the inside. Now he is safe. He opens the haversack and pulls out the two knives. Disgusted, he hides them in the storage space under the tiles at the end of the sloping roof. The two flaps close well, they don't spring open again on their own.