The Third King E-Book

Henry Funk

• Herausgeber: Books on Demand
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2023

Seitenzahl: 39

Beschreibung

Aschaffenburg, Germany 1973 - Army Private Moody, Jr. spends Christmas Eve at prominent widow Gesine's house. Over "Carp Steamed Blue" and "Sex Machine" they experience the culture shock of their lives. A bitter sweet clash between people in the midst of their differences, based on true incidents. Not to be read as an appropriation, but to be taken as a cultural contribution by a witness without commercial interest.

Leseprobe

The soul becomes dyed with the color of its thoughts

Marcus Aurelius

Dedicated to US Army Specialist Donnie Fenell and to all of those who suffered a similar dose of culture shock.

Table of Contents

Chapter I

Chapter II

Chapter III

Chapter IV

Chapter V

I

In front of a traffic light, right beneath the gate to Fiori Kaserne, the engine of a vintage convertible could be heard. It was a shiny “Isabella” whose cream color made the classic car seem to vanish in the driven snow.

“You should have known,” the driver mumbled to herself. “Yes, Gesine, this you should have known.”

Dense layers of snow slowly covered the war machinery lined up under the motor pool lanterns. Gusty winds whipped the few uniformed men unlucky enough to be outdoors back into the shelter of the building blocks.

A furious whirlwind fed by fat flakes kept growing in the center of the intersection and made her dizzy. No matter how carefully Gesine’s feet moved the pedals, the tires could not get a grip on the slippery winter road. Behind her, another car’s horn started to blow. Lively waving from the driver indicated she had better get into gear and get going.

She must have appeared to him like a fish behind milky glass as she repeated her words like a pantomime.

“Sixty! Two! Sixty-two years, yes! Dammit!” Her driver’s license was years older than most of the buggers lined up behind her, bullying her with their flashing headlights and blowing horns. Abruptly, the light changed to red. Gesine unbuttoned her loden coat, lifted her chin. As she freed herself from her woolen scarf, which she stuffed under her thighs for safe keeping, she stared at the street.

“You just had to take the Isabella,” she admonished herself again. The convertible was really only meant to be driven during the summer. And if it had not been for Justus letting her down, the car would have remained in the garage until far into late spring.

“You could’ve taken a cab,” she mumbled.

Green. In spite of the hurry she was in, she forced herself to stay calm. She sucked on her lower lip and concentrated on the interaction between the pedals under her feet. The Isabella fishtailed slightly, moving up the Schweinheim Heights.

Gesine turned into Rhoenstrasse, finding the NCO Club to her left. She carefully applied the brakes, however, determined to cross the street without any hesitation as soon as the oncoming traffic had passed her. No more unnecessary stopping, she told herself.

A line of military vehicles approached from the direction of Ready Barracks. Mighty cones of light blinded her. A passing plow deposited a thick layer of muddy snow over the Isabella’s hood as the street beneath began shaking. The steering wheel and seat vibrated. Less than a step away from her, one of three combat tanks passed. The clanging of the chains made her cover her ears. The barking of blackened exhaust pipes made her shudder. Caught in a mist of soot, Gesine was awaiting the end of this creepy parade.

Which one of the two levers was for wiping the windshield? She chose the left one—no, both— with both hands. The wipers threatened to fail, shaking and squeaking. Finally they presented a vision of pure darkness. In her anxiety, switching and pulling, Gesine had turned off the headlights. She drove the car onto the NCO Club’s parking lot, which reminded her of a snow-covered, frozen lake, laying immaculately in the midst of the turmoil. The snowfall ceased. Clouds broke open, and a pale disc appeared in the open sky. Stars flickering, the universe gained in depth.

“Some of them aren’t there anymore,” she thought. “Just beams of light, on their way to us. We see what is no more.”

Her heart was still racing, and she tried to calm it by slowing the rhythm of her breathing.

“You couldn’t have known that would happen, Gesine.”

All this trouble because of Justus, who had let her down. Woe to him if they didn’t have an officer for her in store anymore!

The soft light of the moon sufficed to illuminate her face in the rearview mirror—her rouge had suffered a little. She grabbed her handbag from the passenger seat and found a compact. Around the eyes all efforts would be in vain. Deeply withdrawn into the hollows, they left deep furrows, that couldn’t be masked. Her cheeks, whose overly tight skin she powdered with a strawberry-pink shade, were lacking fullness. Lipstick she applied hesitantly. For its simple use she perceived as frivolous—however it did help soften the wrinkles around her aged mouth, which looked like it was wearing a zipper.