Fragranceria

Dorothea

The last time Helmut Jerabek had seen her was over 40 years ago.

Now he was sitting at the breakfast table eating an egg, thinking of her. He had been doing that a lot ever since he had retired 5 years ago - sitting and thinking of her.

His hair might have gotten greyer and sparser, his posture more slouched and his eyesight worse but his memory of her was as good as if he had seen her just yesterday. But in fact, it had been much longer.

He was in his big house, waiting for his housekeeper Babara to clean up the remains of his breakfast while she was back at the beach, as proud and gracious as always, he was sure.

Helmut's job in a prim and proper pharmacy, close to his home had kept his mind on his life and off of her. But retirement had left him defenceless to his thoughts and somehow, she had managed to fight her way through the countless memories, Helmut had come to store in his mind over the past 70 years that had been his life.

He had talked to his son, had tried to tell him about her and how he wanted to go and see her again but his son had laughed it off, pouring his father more wine.

Helmut didn't like it one bit, how his age seemed to make everybody feel as though he was a child again. Last week Babara had wiped his mouth and his son had even suggested he shouldn't drive his car anymore. But Helmut wasn't about to just let himself be babied towards death. He wasn't like that. Helmut was going to be the captain of his ship until the very end.

That night, after a day of wallowing in memories and a regular check-up at the doctor's, Helmut sat over a map. He had asked Babara to fetch him the brown suitcase from the basement and then sent her home. The brown suitcase had been heaved onto the bed and emptied and its contents spread all over the floor and bedsheets. In the middle of old photos, letters and maps, in blue pyjamas sat Helmut. He was wearing his glasses, leaning over one of the many maps, his long fingers tracing a route.

An hour later the black Audi drove down the driveway and into the night.

Helmut had not packed a lot. 700 euros in cash, two pairs of underwear and socks each, a rain jacket, pants, a shirt, his passport, a thermos full of water and some bread. The rest of his belongings simply had to be taken care of by somebody else from now on.

He was on the motorway now and with every car that passed him in the opposite direction, Helmut grew more excited.

He was doing this! He was leaving behind everything he had worked for all his life. But in his mind, it was all worth it because Helmuth was going to meet her again, his love, his Dorothea.

How would she look like, Helmut wondered? Would she still look as splendid as he remembered her or had time been cruel to her? Even if that was the case, Helmut knew she'd still be beautiful to him!

After about three hours of driving, Helmut stopped to take a rest. He parked at a petrol station and nibbled at some bread.

It was 3:47 A.M, and Helmut was admittedly tired but something inside him pulled further. He knew that he couldn't possibly go to sleep now, besides, he didn't think it would do his spine all too well.

About 4 and a half hours more to go. Better not waste any time.

Luckily, there were some CDs in the glove compartment, so Helmut kept himself awake listening to some Jazz. Back when he had worked in the pharmacy he had enjoyed listening to Jazz when mixing medications in the back. He had had headphones; his son had given them to him as a Christmas present.

There, in the car, Helmut almost felt nostalgic for those days. Nostalgia had been a regular companion of his for a while now. Maybe that was why Helmut was driving down the highway towards the town of his youth -Split.

The sun had now risen completely, and Helmut was slowly driving through more rural towns. He was almost there now, he knew because his NAVI, yet another present his son had given him, was down to 1 hour and 23 minutes.

It was 8:58, a decent time; kids must have been at school now, yet, the road was empty. Everything around was unlike the Croatia Helmut had known in his youth. Back then it had been full of life; people dressed in colourful dresses, eating ice cream and simply being out. Now what had once been busy and full of life had withered away. Helmut hoped Dorothea hadn't suffered the same fate.

Helmut had left his phone at home so he had not received any of the messages or calls his son must have bombarded him with, but he knew Babara usually arrived at 7:30 sharp, therefore his absence must have already been noticed. He didn't really care too much though.

With a mischievous grin, Helmut took a sharp right turn and put away his NAVI, he would have known the route in his sleep. From Skradin on it was roughly one more hour and Helmut felt his heart leap in his chest as he saw all the little houses with "Soba za iznajmljivanje", which translates to "rooms for rent". It wasn't too much further to his love, he had been close to Skradin with Dorothea many times, it had been day trips from Split to Srima.

Helmut remembered how he had started out at the sea, her just being with him. Those had been the best times of his life and Helmut did not regret chasing them now at his old age. Because he knew happiness was not too much to ask for.

And then he was there. He passed a big, ugly shopping centre that stood on the side of the road, looking clumsy and unfitting. The big screen attached to the side of the building was flashing clothing commercials. As if the town was telling everyone that entered that this wasn't the countryside anymore and that an intruder had to dress accordingly. But Helmut had never been about fitting in, he had obeyed the ground rules but sometimes bent them to his liking and it was going to stay that way, especially because he was going to see her.

The parking lot at the beach had not changed a lot. Only now, there wasn't a grumpy man selling parking tickets but a yellow machine. Helmut ignored it though, 700 in cash was nothing to be spent on a parking ticket and sadly he didn't have any change.

With a numb feeling in his buttocks, he climbed out of his car and waddled over to the bushes where he did what he had to do. Hell, 7 and a half hours was a damn long time and Helmut was just human. After he had relieved himself Helmut made his way down the stone steps, towards the shore.

The beach was empty, except for an old woman sitting on a towel seemingly sunbathing. Just like it had always been; girls trying to get a tan and catch somebody's attention. But Helmut had never had any of it, he had always only had eyes for her.

He could make her out from the little cliff he had climbed onto. She was bobbing up and down with the waves, the little flag on her mast swaying with the breeze. When looking closely Helmut was able to make out the letters that were written on the side of the white, wooden boat in red, chipped paint. Dorothea

To a bystander, it might have looked as though Helmut was in trance, but he knew exactly what he was doing as he stripped down all his clothes. With a loud yell of excitement that had been trapped in his chest for all those years Helmut cannon-balled into the water.

He might have grown old over the years yet, he had never felt as alive as he did, diving towards her.