Wiemar Germany is where my heart finds fellowship/draft 1, part 6

Wiemar Germany is where my heart finds fellowship/draft 1, part 6

fiction
edward w pritchard

I enjoy playing a part when I travel by train and today I am playing as a rich tourist from America. Here on business in Germany to look for investments. I wear a cowboy hat. My English is only fair but I throw around some of the last of the family fortune in tips to the staff here on the Express from Berlin. An American cowboy who reads Dante. I read Dante's Inferno because I am going to hell, back to coal mining territory and my Father's house.

I use the fancy cowboy hat I wore on the train as a bridge to step on to help me cross the black mucky streets of the town I grew up in. The coal tar is much worse than the last time I was here. To cross the sinking street of the hill our House is on one must wade in a shallow river of flowing black mucousy coal and oil. Someday this oil sledge will be valuable says Mother as I scrape the muck from my expensive shoes sitting with her in the bleak kitchen she has occupied peeling potatoes and cabbage for the last forty years of her married life.

My Father is proud of Hans my Brother for Hans is a dutiful soldier. Father calls me xxxx. It's hard to translate the word to English but its a good word to describe me and I get a chuckle for I am proud of my Father for he is not an educated man but he is well read. He has just called me a four flushing pervert as Cicero might have done to his youngest prodigal son under similar circumstances. Pleasantries over my Father and I get down to work on how to rescue the Family fortune.

I must go to America says Father. Hans has arranged it so I can be paid very handsomely to spend a few months in America. Do what Hans says orders Father. Go to America on business and then return to Berlin to entertain American business leaders. Hans will arrange it. It will be very lucrative and I will not have to get a real job.

As I leave home, Father loans me a pair of  his worn boots to wear back to the train as I cross the oil slicks in the street in front of the house. It's quite funny; the boots remind me of the kind the prostitutes wear in Berlin, a certain kind of woman involved in a certain kind of specialty sex. I can use my experiences as a debauchee in Berlin to rescue the Family fortune it seems. My time clubbing in Berlin has been well spent.
end part 6