The Last Analects of Jasper James Kaufmann

8. Merlack

Part Two

Jasper despised flying, but nonetheless successfully made it to Merlack. He flew from West Berlin to Cleveland by way of Chicago, and his father picked him up and drove him home. They drove up the old, steep gravel driveway and parked in front of his house, his house that he had lived in his entire life. He walked in and everything was so familiar, yet so foreign. He wandered into his bedroom. The bed was made, with a childhood teddy bear propped up on top of the pillow. It stared at him emptily but knowingly. His mother must have been responsible for the display; he was sure he had left the room a mess in the fall before heading to Germany.

His father made dinner: a bean stew for everyone, and some steak on the side for his parents, who grudgingly had accepted his vegetarianism. As usual, the food was very good, as his father was an excellent cook, but it took a very long time to be ready. They ate as his parents asked him questions about Berlin. How were his studies? Had he made any friends? He told them about Abelard and Petra, lying about how he had met her. It's too bad Jacob isn't here to see you, they both said. His brother was married and living in Pittsburgh. After the meal he headed straight to bed. He was very tired from the travel.

He had mad, tumultuous dreams that night. Scenes and motifs combined from every aspect of his life, from his experiences in West Berlin to his childhood friends in Merlack. When he awoke, he felt determined to reconnect to his past life, a life that suddenly seemed almost lost to him. But he knew that he could find it again, for a few weeks, anyhow. He would see Richard. He would see Martin Austen. He would see everyone else.

"Good morning. Care for some coffee?" his father asked as Jasper stumbled out of his bedroom.

"Thanks, but I'm going to walk into town and get coffee at the Black Cow."

"All right, then."

He ran a comb through his hair and slipped on his hiking boots and trench coat. His house was a thirty minute walk from the small town. It was a walk he was incredibly familiar with, having done it every day for years when he was in grade school. The town was on a lake, Lake Merlack, which was a never-ending source of poetry and metaphor for him. He arrived. It was a beautiful winter day. There was no snow yet and the sky was blue as could be, with the sun shining and reflecting off the lake. He walked up the hill onto Merlack Avenue, and slipped into the Black Cow Café. No one he knew was there, so he ordered a double espresso. When it was ready he took it to one of the many comfortable chairs in the little shop. He timed the espresso so that it had cooled enough not to be scalding hot, but not so much that it was longer warm. It was a delicate proposition. When the temperature was just right he downed in in one gulp. He stepped outside the café and stared at the lake when he heard a voice calling. He turned in the direction of the voice and saw a welcome sight.

"Deutschbag? Is that you?"

Jasper grinned. "Hey, Richard!"

The two young men embraced tightly. Richard was a very good hugger.

"Jasper! Deutschbag! It's really you! How the fuck are you?"

"Oh, I'm all right. I'm better, actually, now that you're here."

"The feeling's mutual, dude. I missed you a lot when you ran off to Europe like that."

"Believe me, I missed you, too. Things got dull in Berlin. I mean, there was Abelard, and the lovely Petra too... but I think I belong here first and foremost."

"The lovely Petra? Does Jasper have a girlfriend?"

"No, man, no." He chuckled. "She's just a girl I know. I'll tell you the story later. Shall we take a walk?"