Fighting For Love

IV - Goodbye

    Hello... It's me... I was wondering if...

    No. Sorry.

    I am back once more to present you with this beautiful and emotional chapter. I am a cold-hearted bitch so writing this was quite hard to do, but I think I made an acceptable job.

    This chapter is also a little shorter than usual, but I will explain more why in the author note down there.

    Good reading, see you down there!

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Chapter 4: Goodbye.

October the 4th, 1939. 18:30

Frankfurt, Germany

     I got to the bridge where I had rescued Otto earlier. Luckily, my bicycle was still there. I had totally forgotten about it. I grabbed it and cycled the rest of the way home.

     By the time I reached home, the Sun had long set and it was getting darker very fast. I stepped into the house, immediately feeling the delicious, mouthwatering smell of soup.

     I went to the kitchen, where I found my mother in front of the oven, holding a huge wooden spoon and mixing the ingredients in her "cauldron", as I used to call her biggest pot when I was a child, of soup.

      I leaned on the door frame and watched as she prepared the soup. She didn't notice I was there until she turned around.

     "Ah!" She screamed, angrily. I laughed

     She came to me and hit me with her wooden spoon. "Ouch!". I had forgotten how heavy that shit was.

     "You scared me, idiot!" She turned around when the pot made a boiling sound. "You make no sound when you walk, you snake!"

     "It smells great." I said as the steam came out of the cauldron, carrying the smell of the soup to my nostrils.

     "Cut the garlic for me, will you?"

     "Sure."

     I grabbed the knife and started cutting it. For some time, the only sound heard in the kitchen was the knife hitting the wooden plank and the water bubbling inside the cauldron. It was a never-changing state of peace and quiet, one I could happily be in for longer than I ended up being, for I remembered what had happened that day and there was no way I would not share it.

     "You're not going to believe who I rescued from a hole earlier today!" I told her.

     "Who was it?" Her voice sounded so uninterested.

     I know she's like that because of the war, but we'd already discussed it and I simply couldn't not go. It was mandatory for a reason.

     "Otto."

     "Otto? This name tells me nothing."

     "Otto Ziemann. Adela's grandson. Our neighbour. You do remember her, right?"

     "Adela?" She smiled, "I haven't seen her in ages! How has she been?"

     Better say it now, right? She would find out anyway.

     "Mom... She passed away, that's why they moved." She seemed sad but wasn't exactly surprised.

     "Oh, Lord... My dear friend. Well, she always complained about sharp chest pains once in a while, it must have been her heart." She brought her hand to her neck, holding the small golden crucifix she carried around her neck, in a golden chain my dad had given her several years ago. "May she finally find peace. And Otto? How has he been? He must have grown a lot."