The Knife That Twists Within Part 10
by Stefan
"And how did it get to America?" Nicholas looked at his watch. "Oh shit, it's getting late. I have to go. Tell me later all about it, OK?"
He was already out of the room and running upstairs, as Marcus jumped up. "Wait, I'll drive you," he shouted.
Nicholas fastened his seat belt and Marcus started the engine.
"I promised to look after you. It's not a good idea to let you go alone."
Nicholas smiled at him. "Now, tell me about the screen."
"Well, the screen once belonged to a rich Jewish surgeon until the Nazis gassed him and his family in Buchenwald. The screen was confiscated and survived the war in a cave along with some other pieces of Art. There some American soldiers found it and took it home. But now the heirs want to sell it, actually to a museum."
"And you heard about it and made him a better offer, right?" Nicholas asked. "But wouldn't it be better to put it in a museum where everybody could see it? Especially as it's the only screen he ever made?"
Marcus looked at him sideways. "Actually I suppose yes."
"But?"
"My selfishness tells me I want to have it for my own. That's all. It would look marvellous in the bedroom."
"Where only I could see it", Nicholas added. "And perhaps other lovers..." He grinned.
"And other lovers. Right." Marcus gave him a playfully slap on his thigh and then said, 'Have I ever told you that I'm happy with you?" He took Nicholas' left hand and squeezed it.
"No, you haven't," Nicholas said quietly and looked at him. "Did I ever tell you that I'm happy with you?"
Marcus smiled and turned into the next street. They drove in silence until they reached the brick building of the Academy. There weren't too many people around and it gave a rather deserted impression.
"It's now half past one. When shall I pick you up?" Marcus asked.
"Hm, do you really want to?"
"But of course."
"I have no idea when I'll be finished. Perhaps two hours? Can you wait that long? Or do you have other things to do?"
"Actually no. But tell me, you said you used to live around here?"
"Yes. The other side of the street and then the next turning right. Nr. 12. Why?"
Marcus bent over and kissed Nicholas. "Take care of yourself. Good luck."
He watched Nicholas going into the building, started the engine, drove slowly along the street and turned into the next street. Then he parked his car, got out and looked for Nr. 12.
He never had been in this area of the town before, although he had been born here. He looked at the old barrack blocks of flats with their peeled plaster, saw a Turkish merchant selling vegetables and women with scarves around their heads, shoving prams in front of them. Most of the houses were smeared with coloured scribblings, the window sashes were rotten, balconies dilapidated and useless and from the backyards there came the sounds of kids playing.
He stopped at Nr. 12 and looked it up and down. He felt rather out of place in his light brown lambskin jacket and expensive boots, and entered the heavy, dirty door hesitantly. He turned up his nose as the urine stench met him, an old, decayed smell of rotten furniture and something more.
His eyes looked at the mailboxes for the name Zellner and found it. Third floor. Nobody passed him as he climbed up the staircase and stopped in front of the door to Nicholas' parents' flat. He listened for a moment, then determinedly pressed the button. Vera Zellner opened the door but as she saw Marcus she frowned a bit.
"Excuse me, Mrs. Zellner. Do you have a little time for me? But if it's the wrong time..."
"No, no. It is all right. Come in, please." She made room for him to enter the tiny hall. "Actually I thought it was my son."
"Sorry. I took him to the Academy and then I remembered Nicholas told me about his father, so... is he here?"
Vera sighed. "Yes he's here. But he hasn't much time because he has to go to work soon."
"But is it possible to speak to him? To both of you?"
Vera realizing she was impolite to leave him standing there in the hall, motioned him to take off his jacket and to come into the living room.
"He's just changing his clothes, but I'll call him. Can I offer you something to drink? Coffee? Tea?"
"I'd like to have a coffee, please."
Vera disappeared into the kitchen and Marcus stood in the living room and looked around. He felt very uncomfortable. All he could see was ... poverty. Worn out furniture, unfashionable; bulky rubbish in his opinion. But it was carefully cleaned and the curtains in front of the window were freshly washed. Now he could understand Nicholas shyness and aloofness. His house must had hit him like a thunderclap compared to the place where he had grown up.
Vera entered the room again with a tray with three cups and plates, a coffee jug and a cake which she had already cut into slices.
Marcus helped her to arrange it on the table. "Please, sit down Mr. Weidenbruch. I've told my husband and he'll be here in a minute."
"Call me Marcus, please." He took his plate and tasted the yellow cake. "Delicious. Homemade?"
Vera nodded anxiously, darting very brief looks to the young man sitting relaxed in the armchair, holding the plate under his mouth and enjoying the cake.
"My son is well?"
"Oh yes." Marcus was determined not to mention the unpleasantness that had been happening recently. "He's fine. I hope he will enjoy the lessons at the Academy and find some friends."
Vera cleared her throat with a gulp of coffee. "And your friend?" she ask cautiously.
"Friend? Oh, you mean Sebastian. Yes, he's fine too."
"What does he do for a living?"
"Well, he works for me, so to speak. He studied history of Art and keep up with the collectors in Italy."
"Italy?"
"Yes, in Rome."
"Italy." Vera looked down pensively at the faded table cloth.
"Yes. Where lemon- and almond trees are blooming... to quote our Goethe."
He grinned but said then, "I'm sorry. I suppose you've never been to Italy."
Vera shook her head. Then she listened and heard her husband coming from the bedroom. Marcus put down his plate and stood up as Rudolf Zellner entered the room. With a quick glance he sized him up and down and noticed that Nicholas wasn't at all like this small, almost bald-headed man, but the grip of his big hand was very firm.
Vera filled a cup for her husband and pushed a plate with cake in front of him.
"So, Mr. .. er .. er .. Weidenbusch, what brings you here - to us?" Rudolf avoided to look into Marcus' face. He had seen the elegant jacket hanging in the hall and after one look at Marcus black silk shirt Rudolf felt himself unimportant and inferior.
"I want you to get to know me. That's my only motive to come to you. And I wanted to know you both. I'm not quite sure if my name means anything to you but I'm working as promoter of modern- and collector of ancient pieces of Art."
"I know very well who you are," Rudolf threw in. His gaze was unfriendly. "Can you make a living out of that?"
Vera looked doubtfully at her husband but Marcus grinned and showed his white teeth. "Of course I can."
"So my son is now your newest toy as I read in the newspaper", Rudolf spat out contemptuously. "I never realized that he was ... gay."
"Do you have any problems with that? If yes, why?"
Vera looked constantly at Marcus' face and wondered how he could stay so relaxed. Perhaps he had endured many such similar conversations and was very aware what to say and answer.
"Of course I have problems with it, like every NORMAL man."
Marcus snorted. "So you think I'm abnormal, well," he shrugged his shoulders and took another bite from the cake. "I'll have to come to terms with that, right? But I shall tell you that I don't mind what you think about ME, Mr. Zellner."
Marcus' eyes were suddenly piercing and almost black.
"But it matters a lot to me what do you think about your son. And," he looked at Vera, "I'm sure Nicholas' mother would be unhappy to know that father and son have a row and don't speak together."
His voice was hard. "So, I ask you again. What is the problem?"
Rudolf bent over the table. "The problem is that it is ABNORMAL to ... to fuck with a man." He shot a glance at his wife.
Marcus raised his eyebrows. "Ah! It's abnormal to fuck with a man! Do you see it the same way, Vera? Is it abnormal for you to share your bed with a man?"
"But she's a woman, you..." Rudolf raised his voice.
"So she must know how it is to love a man. Am I right? To me it makes no difference." Marcus emptied his cup. "Well, the only thing I wish is that you try to understand us. I like your son." He shook his head. "More than this. I want to live with him, he is," he searched for words, "very important to me. And I promise you I'll take care of him."
The last words he spoke to Nicholas' mother and looked deep into her eyes. Vera nodded imperceptibly. Marcus rose.
"Ok. Now you have seen me, I guess it was necessary," he said in a conciliatory tone. "I hope you get used to it sometime, Mr. Zellner."
Vera stood up and accompanied Marcus into the hall where he put on his jacket.
"I'm sorry about this, Marcus." She made a helpless motion. Marcus would had liked to pull her into an embrace but didn't dare. Instead he said, "I'll take care of him. He is ... a real sunshine."
Vera smiled.
Nicholas stood in front of a huge glass framed notice board hanging in the white painted hall and studied the register lists. There were surprisingly many names and he pondered briefly how Marcus had managed to get him a place too. On top of the names of the students and the number of working groups were written the names of the teachers. Nicholas looked for Frank's name but couldn't find it the first time. Just as he was about to breathe a sigh of relief he found his own name and looked through the others to see whether he could find a familiar name but failed. Then he searched for the name of the teacher and cursed loudly. "Something wrong?" he heard a voice behind him. A young man was coming along the hall and had stopped beside him. Nicholas looked into a pair of hazelnut brown eyes covered by thin, black spectacle frames. His lips were full and red and he was slightly unshaven. His long jet black hair was tied together into a ponytail. "Are you new too?" Nicholas asked. "No." The young man came closer. "Any problems in finding your name?" "No, no. I got it, I just found out the teacher." The hazelnut eyes looked questionly. "So who is it?" "Frank Neumann." The face of the other lad lit up. "Frank? That's great. Then we are in the same group. But I thought you were new?" "Yes, no. Not actually. I interrupted my lessons and want to continue where I stopped." "I see. And what's wrong with Frank?" "I had him before." The other lad came closer. "I'm Ben. Benedikt actually." "Nick. Nicholas actually." Both grinned. Ben motioned with his head to one of the class rooms. "Want to come with me? The lesson has just began. You are late." "I know. Overslept." He grinned again. Few moments later they entered the high room and Nicholas smelled again the familiar scent of colours, of solvent and floor-wax. About fifteen people were gathered in the room in a circle. They held their sketch books on their knees or on supports and drew in silence a still-life of a plate full of fruit, arranged on a little table. Frank walked between the students with his arms held behind his back, watching them and now and then giving them advice. He looked up as the door opened and recognized Nicholas. On his face appeared a broad grin. Ben went straight to him and whispered, "That's Nick. He said he was in your group before." Frank grinned condescendingly. "That's true. Welcome back, Nick." Nicholas gazed into his pale eyes but said nothing. "Where are your working utensils? Forgotten them?" "No. I only wanted to see who's my teacher." His voice was icy. "Big surprise, isn't it?" Frank's gaze fell upon Nicholas' taped right hand. "But what's happened to your hand?" "Little accident, but it will be ok in few days." Ben didn't know what was going on, but he could feel the tension between the two men. Confused, his look scurried back and forth. "When does the lesson begins tomorrow?" "I'll give you a plan, wait a minute." Frank went to his desk in the corner, pulled out some sheets and handed them to Nicholas. "So with your hand you won't be able to draw but I think you can listen and watch. And don't be late, my friend. See you tomorrow at 9 am." Nicholas nodded briefly and gave Ben a smile. "See you", he said and left the room. Outside the building he took a deep breath. All his fears had came true and he clenched his fists in his pockets. But then, so what? He didn't care a fuck about Frank and he wouldn't be able to destroy the fun he certainly would have at the drawing lessons. He thought about Ben and found he liked him. He seemed to be a nice lad. At the curb he recognized Marcus' black Mercedes, peered into it but he wasn't there. He looked up and down the street but couldn't see him at first, then he saw him coming out of a book shop. He had a heavy parcel under his arm and another one in his hand. He smiled as he saw Nicholas and quickened his pace. "Now, how was it?" he asked, unlocked the car, got in and opened the door for Nicholas. "Exciting. Guess who's my teacher?" Marcus glanced at him. "Frank?" "Right." "Shit." Nicholas waved it off. "Doesn't matter." He climbed into the car and closed the door. "You saw him?" "Yes. That damn grin again." "I guess there was a time when you loved that grin." Marcus said. "Did I? Well, perhaps you're right." Marcus stowed the parcels away on the backseat. "What does he look like actually?" "Not half as good as you." "Wow," Marcus rolled his eyes. "What a compliment! Now I can see him clearly!" He laughed but waited for an answer. "Very blond. Very blue eyes. Very thin lips." "So? That's the absolute opposite to me. And yet you fancied him?" "Are you fixed on a certain type?" Marcus thought briefly. "No. Probably not. But I melt whenever I see blue eyes!" He bent over, "especially when I see YOUR eyes." His kiss was lingering. As he broke the kiss, Nicholas said, "There was also a very likeable lad named Ben." "So?" Marcus frowned. "Also very blond and very blue eyed?" "No. Come Marcus. Don't pull my leg. Tell me instead what's in the parcels you bought." "Books." Marcus turned the key and drove away. "Ah, books! I never have guessed. Which books?" "It's such a long time ago since I was in a book shop, darling. I bought everything I liked." Nicholas sighed. "It's great to have so much money to buy everything you like," he muttered. Marcus gave him a quick glance. "I went to see your parents," he said then. "You were - where?" Nicholas exclaimed. "Your parents, calm down, honey. I thought I had to talk to your father." "And was he there?" "Yes. We had a cup of coffee and a slice of the wonderful cake your mother made." Nicholas stared at Marcus' calm face. "And then?" he asked impatiently. "Nothing. He told me it's abnormal to fuck with a man." "Ha!" Nicholas almost yelled. "He said that? Those were his words?" "Exactly." "Great." Nicholas ran his fingers through his hair. "So you saw where I used to live. And probably didn't like it." Again Marcus took Nicholas' hand into his own, and pressed his lips on it. "It's ok, honey. I think I understand you better now." Nicholas nodded slightly. "And mother? What did she have to say?" "She seemed to enjoy my visit, I think." Then he looked seriously. "You'll have to sort it out with your father some day. Otherwise it will be a constant pain." "Yes," Nicholas said and sighed. "Some day." Nicholas put down the heavy parcel on the sideboard in the hall, took off his jacket and hung it in the wardrobe. From the living room he heard voices and entered it curiously. He found Sebastian sitting on the couch in a tight embrace with Kay and both seemed to be enjoying themselves. He cleared his throat. Both heads swung around. "Hey sweetie, how's it going?" Kay exclaimed. "What are you doing here?" "Sorry we used the keys, but we have to talk to both of you." Sebastian said and straightened his pullover. He looked at Marcus as he entered the room. "Sorry Marcus. You don't mind our being here?" "It's ok. So, what's up?" he looked at the empty wine glasses standing at the table. "I see you've helped yourself already. But I need a drink too." He turned to Nicholas. "What's about you?" Nicholas nodded. "Beer?" "Yes, please." Marcus disappeared into the kitchen. "How's your hand?" Sebastian asked. "Better, thank you." He sank into an armchair. "I've just come from the Academy." "Academy?" Kay asked. "Academy of Arts. I registered there to continue my studies." "But why on earth do you want to go back to school again? I was happy enough to leave it behind!" Kay said. "But I enjoy it. It's important to learn more." Sebastian was amused by the talk of the two lads until Marcus appeared with two bottles and and looked for glasses. "I have no beer glasses!" he said then. "Never noticed it before." "Because you never drink beer." Sebastian said. Finally Marcus took some other ones and opened the bottles. Nicholas took them away from him, "Let me. If you pour in like that you'll only have foam in your glass. Do it like this." Marcus grinned at Sebastian. "He's already taken over, eh?" "Apparently!" Marcus burst out in laughter. "Now, tell me, what's so important that you both broke into my house, hm?" Sebastian took the wine bottle and poured himself and Kay a glass. "The matter is this: Somebody saw Simon at a club the other day and recognized him from Nicki's photo in the "Moonbreaker"." "Yes!?" Nicholas and Marcus exclaimed together. "Yes. We want to look for him tonight. Do you want to join us?" "Tonight?" Nicholas looked at his lover. "I have to get up early tomorrow." Marcus blinked. So he was still alive he thought relieved. But he wasn't sure if he wanted to face him again. "It's up to both you guys", he heard Sebastian's voice. "But we have to go by all means. And there's something more." He paused and looked at Kay. "Yeah," Kay took a deep breath and looked at Marcus. "You remember of course Simon told you about his brother, but you never actually saw him, right?" "Right. But what..." Kay lifted his hand. "Let me speak. I'm his brother. I was always amazed you never recognized the resemblance between me and Simon." It took a time till the message sank into Marcus' mind. Then he looked at all three men in disbelief and finally his gaze was struck by Kay's brown eyes. He took in the body, the movements, the hair the lips, the smile. Was there any resemblance? Not at first sight. There was a tense silence in the room and all gazes were fixed on Marcus. He grabbed his glass and took a long gulp and wiped his mouth. "Why didn't you tell me?" he asked quietly. Kay's eyes searched the ivory carpet for bits of fluff. "I don't know." He looked up again. "I'm sorry, Marcus. I didn't think it was so important. Here." He pulled out a letter from his pocket and handed it Marcus. "It's the last letter I got from Simon." Marcus hands trembled a bit as he took the letter and read it. "Did you go there?" "Of course. But he wasn't there anymore. And since then I've been searching for him." He looked at Nicholas. "And then you came with the picture and I thought it was a good idea to display it at the Moonbreaker. I want to apologize for it." His eyes were pleading. Still Marcus stared at Simon's letter. "He's broke", he whispered. "How long have you had it?" He waved the sheet of paper. "Since October." Marcus gave the letter Nicholas to read. "Come Marcus, say something. I said, I was sorry", Kay's voice was abashed. "It's OK, Kay. Apology accepted." He tried a weak smile. "Now it's important to find him. Heaven knows where he's living and ..." What he looks like now, Nicholas finished the sentence for himself. He couldn't believe it. But now there was hope, if somebody has seen him. Suddenly he was eager to go with both men to the club that night. "Shall we go with them, Marcus?" he asked. "Shall we?" "I guess it's better you stayed here if you have to get up early tomorrow, Nicki." Sebastian said. "Perhaps we won't find him and it will all have been in vain. We'll ring you tomorrow, ok?" Nicholas nodded. All he wanted to do now was to embrace Marcus and to comfort him and he wished the others would go. Sebastian rose and took Kay's hand. "We'll leave you alone, now." He stepped closer to Marcus and ran his fingers through his hair. "I'm glad you're back, darling." he whispered so that only his friend could hear. "Take care of the boy, will you. Any other incidents so far?" "Two mysterious calls, said Nicholas." "Calls? But who could have his name and phone number? That's pretty odd. It must be somebody who knows him well or has engaged a private detective." Amazed Marcus lifted his head. "Bye now. Have a nice evening. And an even better night," he winked. They were barely gone before Nicholas stepped up to Marcus and embraced him. "Do you want to see him again?" he asked. "I'm not sure." "Do you still like him?" Marcus looked into Nicholas face. "Of course I still like him, but not the way you mean. I want to know how he's living now. If I can help. But I don't love him." He stroked Nicholas' hair out of his eyes. "Believe me?" "Of course. I really hope they will find him." Marcus gently broke free and began to carry the empty bottles and glasses into the kitchen. "What are we doing now with the rest of the afternoon?" he asked. "You are not mad with Kay?" "No. I don't know. I know nothing." He fell into a chair, propped his elbows on the table and buried his face in the palms of his hands. Nicholas sat next to him. "I can't understand it either, Marcus. But as he said, it's not important anymore." He stroked his hands. "Can you find any resemblance to Simon?" "No. Well, a bit if I think about it. But it would never have crossed my mind..." "No, never. What do you think, has the disease has already broken out?" Marcus shrugged his shoulders. "I guess it takes longer. But I can't stand the idea of him living on the streets without money. Simon! Without money! That's an image which is over the top. Nor can I understand why he never came to his brother to ask for help, or to me..." "Maybe he was too ashamed." "God! Simon and ashamed!" Marcus laughed bitterly. "That's a strange thought." "He was completely different to me, yes?" "Yes. Completely." Marcus put his hands down on the table and Nicholas grabbed them. "Do you want to show me your books?" he asked softly. To be continued