CHAPTER 7

Herr Jansten

A MONTH HAD GONE BY, IT WAS DURING AUTUMN WHEN AUGUST LINDEBERG WAS OBLIVIOUS UNTIL HE AWOKE FROM HIS DREAM.

"Good God, how the devil did I get in here?" By now he was outside of his bedroom, shivering, and his toes were dusty. August had gone through one of his sleepwalking episodes throughout the night.

The dream was real. A competition, a duel. He went through a kind of fight in his dream. It was a kind of fight when one goes to a battle, where blood and violence were involved. He could see that some part of the roof of his apartment was badly damaged from the storm last time, leaving it open and ripped apart to see the sky. August swiftly crossed his head beneath the dark clouds, wondering how he had gotten out of his bed. There were no signs of stars and no dim moon that could glow the city.

At this time, Adam was still sound asleep on the mattress by the side of the door.

Suddenly, a mahogany little creature, smooth as silk, appeared out of the pipe wall from the roof. The animal flashed its bulging irises, looking very black like a raven underneath the night sky. It was a squirrel with whiskers, looking like sharp broomsticks between the round nose. A few minutes rolled by, the animal came scurrying down the sloped roof, staying in the shadowy corners by the open-window.

When the sound of a squeak caught the young man's eye, he stood there watching the squirrel's tiny pair of paws lifting in the wind, and rubbing it together while his tail swayed to and fro like a feather duster.

Then on the spur of the moment, August knelt down beside the curtains with a look of serenity when he observed the animal. Nothing happened between them, since August avoided a stir in the room by not breaking the silence. He cast a baleful glance, edged a little closer to the window, and shut it hard without waking Adam. The squirrel screamed in a muffled howl when the tail was caught, and drawing his pocket knife, August cut its tail as if a string was torn apart in half, dripping in blood.

For a time, August gritted his teeth in the darkness, feeling satisfied with the faint sound in his ear, the scream of agony from the animal, and the reaction it gave. August firmly held the window while a smirk wrinkled in his cheeks, imagining a peal of cries from those who deserve it, from those who had once angered him.

No doubt, August had enjoyed the novelty of being the oppressor in this situation, and as he triumphed over the act, he was still composed during his own fun, guillotine game. He left the mutilated tail upon the floor, stiff with furs all over. Once he had opened the window again, the squirrel ran away in a state of pain, leaving a trace of echo into the pipe hole.

And with that, the animal was gone from his sight.

Finally when the gruesome ordeal was over, August got a letter that was sent to him a few weeks ago, a wedding invitation. He had a hard time trying to fathom this nonsense as he read the envelope that held in his fingers. Boiling inside, his perspiring forehead flowed in a gush of vermillion, looking as if he was about to throttle someone.

"How is it possible? Doesn't she have an ounce of feelings for me?" August was puzzled, feeling deeply betrayed himself, and yet these feelings failed him to burst a sudden reaction. Something mounted in his throat after that, and so he gulped the pessimistic thoughts and refused to lose hope.

Meanwhile, in Adam's ear, he was alarmed by the sound of someone's feet striding back and forth.

As he lay there on the mattress, his eyes were puffed, and his vision was blurred by the resplendent light that cast upon his feeble form in the morning. Adam had slept upon the mattress sheet on the side of the door, raised his back and shifted his gaze at his little brother who was apparently the one striding back and forth in the living room.

"What are you doing?" Adam asked, rubbing his face while he spread the blanket from his legs.

"Nothing. I got a letter from the Jansten's."

"Good God, What does it say?"

"They are inviting us to a wedding. You know, the fiance's," August answered and there was a tinge of envy hidden under his impassive face.

"I see. When will the happy couple exchange their vows?"

"This evening, apparently." August stopped at his feet, shrank in the wooden chair, and averted his eyes, staring at the window. "They will throw a wedding ball tonight."

"That's great, then."

"We're not coming." August gruffed and brushed his barley hair over his forehead. "We hardly even know them, anyhow. I came there as their acquaintance for the sake of Carl."

"So, no sign of respect?"

"Why the hell do they need respect, Adam? Respect is meaningless and it is a sign of affection that only stirs the heart temporarily."

"You're too harsh. Fiddlesticks! It's the least we can do for them." Adam snapped out in a reproachful tone.

"Now I can see why mama is so fond of your noble character, Adam. No wonder —I'm always the disobedient one, am I right?"

"You chose that role, not her."

"Yes, put the blame on me. I'm sick of being scapegoated all the time. I suppose it's a habit in our family. This whole thing was one of the reasons why I left home and it drives me mad if you or anyone does the same thing. I say It's getting slightly repetitive."

August fell into silence and formed his hands into a clump of fists as Adam noted the agitation from his brother. His heart was infused with ease when time went by, and the rage within him fanned away. Eventually, August managed to change the subject.

"I bought a lottery ticket yesterday, let's see if I can win."

"Hold on, I can't recall. Since when have you ever told me this?"

"Remember I told you this was our chance, Adam? Forget about Carl's disparaging speech about gambling, I'll take chances."

"What are you going to do with the money then?"

"Why, save it. Through time, I will make my way up and buy a cottage."

"That will take years don't you think?"

"I'll work as a painter and devote myself to art. Perhaps working in a publishing firm? Or an illustrator for the magazine. Plenty of things I'm going to do without parental guidance."

"How about joining the army? Remember what Reimund suggested last time?"

August collapsed into a fit of laughter and his head was thrown back like a pompous misanthrope.

"Come on, you know me. I'd rather work as an apprentice in a factory than becoming a soldier."

"You want to go through the hard days of living in poverty again?"

"As far as I am concerned, I don't mind being challenged. I am willing to pay the price of freedom even if it seems selfish to you." August declared and looked determined enough to beat the world. His own way of thinking and the vision he had was so carefully planned out. Confidence triumphed over him a great deal.

As the morning wore away, the wedding day was finally coming. The clouds tiptoed in the evening as if nature wasn't in the mood to offer any shed of light. The trees rocked, the wind moaned, and the sky turned grim in this fine hour where grayness lurked everywhere.

After waiting in the garden outside the mansion, the bride and the middle aged man she leaned her arm on, turned out to be her father, Herr Jansten. Both slipped out of the aisle in the midst of everyone being seated.

At the sight of Susie's form, her veil cascaded down, blowing in the wind while she held a bouquet in her hands. Her cheeks colored in scarlet, leaving a lovely complexion in front of them. At this point, August was seated among the guests, following every of her steps.

If he were to count those steps, it would be the exact measurement like the beating of his heart. Despite his insufficient knowledge to understand the core of her soul, he had dreamt the image of this ideal woman for a long time and at last, he had found her whose starlit eyes were prostrating on the ground—barely full of life.

It was a sign.

He was dimly aware of her queer body languages, and when he saw her, August was certain she was feeling miserable behind the beaming visage. No doubt, she was not entirely taken yet and August wouldn't even consider her as a married woman, even if she would take her vow before his eyes. August, a competitive and an inexorable fiend, certainly knew he was bound to win her heart.

It nearly took half an hour for the couple to exchange their vows and once they were done, they parted from the crowd of clappings and cheers, stepping along the stone path and through the arched trellis where the clovers were nestled among a cluster of dried morning glories.

The groom stopped at his feet, gathered his newly wedded wife in his arms and held her gently, whispering tenderly behind the ear which assured everyone around them that his eyes worshipped her.

From a short distance, the elderly women behind the seats began to make remarks about the little scene while fanning and clutching their parasols.

"Of all men, I didn't know Herr Vester would surrender himself to Susie Jansten."

"Well, it was an arranged marriage, you see."

"Oh? I'm not aware."

"Didn't you know? He's been smitten all over her especially during the time when they were at the ball. It was perfectly obvious. Even though Susie wasn't in love with him initially, her mother was so obstinate about the matchmaking."

"She's in love, is she?"

"Well, we wouldn't be here if she wasn't."

"She's got no choice."

August Lindeberg overheard the conversation between the pair, and with a little smirk, he sprang from his seat and dashed in a flurry to look after the married couple until a man stopped in his tracks. The man happened to have a tawny, sallow face of a Septuagenarian.