13 WINDOWS

Chapter 25 Part 3: The PROFESSOR

Rupert awoke in the middle of the night at the farm-house. Jens and his wife Anna had kindly let Rupert stay in their well-furnished and newly renovated attic. It was much nicer than the attic his mother stayed in back in Rosedale, which was full of junk, dust and cobwebs. This had a fresh paint smell, and new hardwood floors. There was a modern looking semi-circled window that looked out onto the vineyards beyond the front driveway. So much for the old world: Rosedale seemed much older in comparison.

He had the whole upper floor to himself. Jens and his wife, Anna, did not have any children but they both ran successful businesses. The farm had been making a small fortune selling pinot noir and balsamic vinegar to tourists. Jens ran a furniture store in the centre of the old town as well.

Rupert looked out the window. There was mist coming down the sloping vineyards. He was jet lagged and he knew he would probably be up for hours trying to readjust his clock.

He looked back on the past day. It had been tiresome and devastating for everyone involved. After the police had arrived on the scene of the accident Rupert and Jens had to spend about a half hour explaining the entire story to the officers. Thankfully one of them was fluent in English. On the way home Jens explained to Rupert that Mrs. Neudstadt was a family friend. But he did not seem to want to expand on what her connection was to his grandparents.

Rupert kept apologizing for what happened.

"Stop being so Canadian," Jens said waving Rupert to be quiet. "Mrs. Neudsadt had that reaction all on her own, without your provocation."

"I know. But I feel like I'm bad luck or something. Maybe I made a mistake coming here," Rupert said.

"It's not a mistake that you came back to see your roots," Jens insisted as they drove across the Rhine towards the University. "You are here for a reason. The University is up there on the right," he said pointing. "Do you want to come here tomorrow? I can drive you over."

Rupert glanced at the University as they passed. "Yes," he said. "Definitely. As soon as I can." He was anxious to hear what information they had about his grandfather, Gunter Streicher.

When they arrived at the farm-house Rupert met Jens' wife, Anna, who was 39 years old. She was a heavy-set woman with brunette hair and a pleasant demeanour.

"Poor old Mrs. Neudstadt," Anna said after a delicious meal of chicken, vegetables and the best of their home made wines. The accident had sobered the mood, of course, despite the high quality of the fresh food.

"She was always a good woman. A little batty maybe," Jens said.

"She must have seen a strong resemblance between your grandfather and you," Anna said inquisitively, studying Rupert's eyes closely.

"Yes. She... she must have known my grandfather quite well to have that reaction," Rupert said uncomfortably.

After a long pause she said, "They called him the Romanian wolf."

"You know a lot about him?" Rupert asked.

She just rolled her eyes, and took another swig of wine. Then she swished it around her mouth like it was mouthwash. She was getting drunk. After she had swallowed the wine she shook her head and said, "I'm sorry Rupert. He was a sick bastard."

"Oh I'm aware of his crimes. Remember my grandparents on my father's side were Holocaust survivors. I'd like to find out what happened to the bastard myself more than anyone," Rupert said gloomily. "But no one seems to know where he ended up?"

Anna looked Rupert in the eyes. "Well I heard he had died in Romania. He left a family there with a different name or something."

Jens interrupted, "Now, now. No one knows what happened to him. Or if he died. Some people say Argentina. We shouldn't get into this Anna. It's been a long day," Jens said trying to keep the conversation light.