Inge

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In Those Days, Germany was far different from any other place I had been.  And living on that mountain, on a farm very isolated from any recognizable city probably probably magnified the shock of being there that I had.

Our farmhouse was a tine 2 bedroom-1 bath.  It had running water, but only the bath had hot water.  So Mom would keep a kettle of water on the wood burning kitchen stove for dishes and stuff.  A wood burning hot water heater was mounted on the wall above the bath tub that allowed an occasional hot bath after building the fire with in and waiting for it to heat.  And soon, I was designated as the boiler man.

Dad bought 50's VW, and after about two months realized it had a 4-speed transmission and it could actually go faster than the 35 mph he was able to achieve in third.  And at 13 he taught me how to drive.

Soon after the farmer let me drive his tractor to pull a wagon through the field to load hay.  He showed me how to deliver a calf, and I watched him butcher a pig.  I really liked working the farm and trying to pick up the language from the farmer.  He had no children, but I though his wife was very pretty and dressed simply in her Amish looking attire.

When not with the farmer, I was alone.  I spent most of that summer exploring that mountain.  Mom got me a .22 caliber rifle and I took it with me as often as I could deep into the woods.  Every so often, I'd discover someone initials carved into a tree.  Unable to read German, I presumed they were love notes because they were often enclosed by a heart.  And I wondered what love would be like.

Near the center of Mainbullau was a church with a pond in front of it.  One day as I was sitting alone near the pond watching the reflection of the church in the water, a group of girls walked by.  Some were giggling.

It was then that I met Inge.  She approached me and tried to initiate a conversation, but I told her I didn't speak German.  She continued to converse in broken English which really surprised me.  Her friends stood by while we chatted a while.  She was even prettier than the Paula Brown I left back in Brooklyn 6 months earlier.  And I came to like her.
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