The Wall Crossers

September Loves Arrive - Sunday

Sunday

Anja's perspective

Jelena picks me up at 2pm at my flat in her red 1970 Mercedes-Benz 280 SL coupe convertible with top down and engine humming as I run out to her, smiling with joy, wearing coral-colored culottes shorts, a white spaghetti-string polyester and cotton blend top, with no bra today—to be in harmony with the world-wide womens' lib movement—charcoal keds and white bobby socks, and a light denim jacket with metal buttons (the kind you never fasten).

I have a bag packed with a change of clothes for dinner tonight, plus for work tomorrow, as I will go straight to work from Jelena's. Plus I have a large canvas bag for my things.

Jelena is casual in worn-out looking jean bell bottoms fraying strings at the bottom hem, zip-up black leather boots, leather belt with black thin round metal buckle, light green button-up short-sleeve blouse with white cami underneath.

All my turmoil and Sexualtrieb (libido) from the night before is vanished like a misty-wet dream, and even when I stepped out back this morning for chores, my backyard neighbor saw me and merely waved, so perhaps it was only just a verstörender Traum (disturbing dream)?

Jelena and I chat amiably and happily on the 30-minute drive to Charlottenburg district, where her large detached house is located. She has a large parlor, bedroom and guest room, kitchen, dinette, full bath on floor first, dining room (more formal), work room office, and loft-attic, furnished and heated along with half bath. I love that room upstairs. It sighs in the wind, and rocks you to sleep. There are nice steps from the hall up to the loft room, with a door for privacy, and even a telephone extension!

There is not much in front of the house, but sidewalk and shrubs. Same with sides. But back is spacious. Good for a party. Two weeping willow trees, whose calm sweeps of limbs in the breezes made me so at ease, sitting under them. Close-clipped grass and wooden fences on three sides. Outdoor table and chairs.

Jelena and I spend the afternoon drifting in and out of easy conversation and rest in her back yard. I even have time for a nap in the loft. We decide the heavy talk I bring with me will be over dinner, at her favorite café in Charlottenburg—the Westhaus.

We sit outside in the warm breeze, in easy chairs, playing her record player and latest top hits for this week, which she always buys, such as: If you really love me by Stevie Wonder, Tired of being Alone by Al Green, How can you mend a Broken Heart by the Bee Gees, So Far Away by Carole King, and many more. And of course I have her bring out Abbey Road and play the entire thing.

I cry when I hear Carole King sing Holding you again could only do me good... Oh how I wish I could but you're so far away. And as I cry, with Jelena shaking her head at me, sipping her Schultheiss bier, I think: am I crying for Horst—never seeing him with years in between? Or am I crying for Livie, that I want her with me right now, up in the loft? It couldn't be about Niels—nein, he is just an... an apparition to me right now. A visitor from a dream. A dream I want? A dream I need?

For Abbey Road, I sing along with most of the songs, especially Oh Darling! But then when it gets to Because, and I hear the lyrics love is all love is you, I break down into uncontrollable sobbing for some reason.

Jelena comes to me and holds me saying, "Anja. There. There. It is alright. I will help you with this. Let's go prepare for dinner." I stand and she is about to turn off the record player when I notice You Never Give Me Your Money is playing and hear the words One sweet dream came true today, and my emotions totally turn around and I feel: there is hope for me... hope for a sweet dream coming true... one day soon!