CHAPTER 18 - OLDENBURG, GERMANY—DECEMBER 9, 1916
Anna, anxious to read a letter that she received from Bruno, finished her evening chores and went to her bedroom. Although she was exhausted from working outside in the cold for most of the day, her heart thrummed as she opened the envelope.
Thank Goodness! She took a deep breath to calm the quiver in her hands.
Anna’s mind flashed to the bowls of watery turnip and leek soup that they’d eaten for the past two days. With the exception of Max’s veteran rations that he’d insisted on sharing with her and Norbie, they’d consumed only soup and bark coffee.
“Of course,” she whispered, feeling heartbroken for him.
As a nurse, she’d witnessed the aftermath of the mutilation that took place on the front.
But she could not begin to imagine what it would be like to be forced by the military to fight, let alone kill, another human being.
She wished that there was something that she could do to ease his anguish, and that the bloodshed in Europe would come to an end.
A mixture of excitement and melancholy stirred within her.
She was elated by the news that Bruno would soon be home, but his remorseful words had shaken her core.
He’s hurting. I’ll find a way to help him when he’s home.
But Fleck will never give me time off from work while boarding and training Max.
The past two days were arduous for Anna.
The other trainers had spoken little to her, as if they didn’t believe a woman, especially one who lacked a military background, had earned the right to train dogs.
Through the corners of her eyes, she’d frequently seen Waldemar, glaring at her from the sidelines of the obstacle course.
And Fleck had criticized many of her training techniques, most notably the manner in which she instructed right shoulder work—the capacity for Nia to leave ample room for Max on his right when passing fixed objects such as signposts and benches.
“Your right shoulder work is pitiful, Fr?ulein Zeller!” Fleck had shouted. “You need to make certain your dog protects its handler from head to toe!”
Anna, her nerves rattled, had made adjustments with Nia.
Throughout each day, Max provided words of encouragement, which she greatly appreciated.
But being on the obstacle course, as opposed to watching from the sidelines, revealed her flaws and how much she needed to learn in order to become a competent instructor.
Although she worried that Fleck might reconsider his decision to allow her to temporarily train, and that Nia might be removed from the course when the other dogs were healthy, she refused to give up on her quest to be a guide dog trainer.
The sound of a solitary piano key resonated from the living room. She straightened her back and listened. The tone faded, and the same note was played again. Driven by curiosity, she placed Bruno’s letter in a drawer and descended the stairs to the living room.
Max, standing at the piano with the front panel removed to expose the strings and tuning pins, tapped a key. A twangy resonance filled the room.
“I think it’s sharp,” Norbie said, standing beside Max.
“I believe it’s flat,” Max said.
Nia, lying in the center of the living room, thumped her tail.
“Are you sure?” Norbie asked.
“Ja,” Max said.
“It’s definitely flat,” Anna said, approaching them.
“Ah, Anna,” Norbie said. “Max is going to tune your mutter’s piano.”
“That’s very kind,” she said.
“We don’t have a tuning key,” Max said, “but a wrench from Norbie’s toolbox should work well as a substitute.”
“How is Bruno?” Norbie asked.
“He’s coming home on leave,” Anna said, hesitant to disclose details of Bruno’s emotional turmoil.
“Wonderful,” Norbie said. “When will he arrive?”
“Next month,” she said. “He doesn’t yet know the date.”
“That is grand news,” Max said. “I’m happy for you.”
Anna’s mind flashed to Bruno’s contritely worded letter. After enduring hardships of war, he’s worried that things might not be the same between us. She buried her thoughts and stepped to Max. “May I help you tune the piano?”
“Sure,” Max said. “It will go faster if someone can strike the keys while I adjust the tuning pins.”
“I can do it,” Norbie said.
Anna fidgeted with a sleeve of her sweater. “I think Max might need someone to know the notes on the keyboard.”
“The ability to play a few chords would also be helpful,” Max said.
“Oh,” Norbie said, a timbre of disappointment in his voice.
“Anna can read music, so maybe she’s a little better suited than me for the job.
But if you need an extra opinion on whether a key is sharp or flat, you can find me tinkering in my workshop.
” He rubbed Nia’s belly, causing the dog to roll over on her back and thump her tail, and then descended the stairs to his workshop.
“What would you like me to do?” Anna asked.
Max gestured for her to sit on the piano bench. “You can start by striking the middle C, and hold the key down so I can locate the hammer.”
Anna sat and struck the key. A flat, twangy tone filled the air.
He glided a hand inside the piano until he located the pressed felt hammer. He followed the string to the tuning pin, and then turned it clockwise with the wrench. The pitch sharpened.
“Is it difficult for you to tune a piano without a tuning fork?” she asked.
“Not really,” Max said. “But I’ll need to rely on your ears for the upper octaves.”
She struck the key again. “I hope I can do a good job.”
“You will,” he said. “You sing in perfect pitch. I’m sure you’ll have no trouble with directing my adjustments.”
Anna smiled. She gazed at the network of metal wires. “How many strings are there?”
“There are typically two hundred and thirty strings on a piano with eighty-eight keys.”
“Oh, my,” she said. “I guess I never paid much attention to how many strings were hidden inside the piano. How long will it take to tune?”
“A couple of hours,” he said. “But without my sight, it might take a little longer.”
“You’re lucky that I filled in for Vater,” she said. “He’s unaware that he’s a bit tone deaf, and you might be up all night, debating whether a string is flat or sharp.”
He chuckled. “I don’t mind. Norbie is great fun.”
“Ja, he is,” she said, grateful for her vater, as well as Max’s kind words.
“Middle D,” he said.
She pressed the key.
He located the hammer and string, then adjusted the tuning pin.
“Are all of the strings flat?”
“Most will be,” Max said. “Due to humidity, they tend to turn flat in the winter and sharp in the summer.” He ran his hand over the inside of the piano and paused, his fingers resting on a raised metal manufacturer’s emblem.
“Is something wrong?”
“It’s a Blüthner piano,” he said. “I thought it might be one based on its clarity and rich warm sound.” He ran a fingertip over the crown and raised name on the emblem—Julius Blüthner. “My vater was a piano maker for Blüthner in Leipzig.”
Anna’s eyes widened. “Could he have worked on this one?”
“Maybe,” he said. “How old is it?”
“I’m not exactly sure,” she said. “I think my mutter purchased it around thirty years ago.”
“He would have been working at Blüthner then, but there were other piano makers.” He rubbed his chin. “It’s nice to think that he might have made this one.”
She looked at him, his face turned somber. He’s asked many questions about my mutter, but I’ve made little effort to learn about his family. Her chest tightened. “It was insensitive of me not to inquire about your parents. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” he said.
“Would you consider it to be intrusive of me if I asked what happened to them?”
“Nein.”
She patted the space on the bench next to her.
Nia, still lying on her back from her belly rub, peered with her head upside down toward Anna.
He sat and took a deep breath. “My parents, Katarina and Franz, were originally from Vienna, but they moved to Leipzig when my vater began his career as a piano maker. They were on holiday, celebrating their wedding anniversary in Kotor, a coastal town in Montenegro, when war was declared.”
Anna clasped her hands.
“Instead of fleeing Kotor, they volunteered to help with refugees from Bosnia and Herzegovina, who were also coming back home from holiday. A few weeks later, in August of 1914, they boarded an Austro-Hungarian passenger ship called the Baron Gautsch.” He paused, running a hand through his hair.
“On the voyage from Kotor, the ship ran into a minefield laid by the Austro-Hungarian Navy.”
Her skin turned cold.
“One hundred and twenty-seven passengers and crew members died in the sinking of the ship, including my parents.”
“Oh, my God,” she whispered.
He swallowed. “My parents’ bodies were never recovered.”
Her heart ached. She placed a hand on his arm. “I’m so sorry.”
He nodded.
She slid her hand to her lap.
“They were wonderful parents,” Max said. “My mutter was a singing teacher who occasionally performed at the Leipzig Opera. My vater, of course, played the piano. Our home was filled with laughter and song.”
“They sound lovely,” she said.
A smile formed on his face. “My earliest memories were of Vater teaching me to play scales, while Mutter sang along in her beautiful mezzo-soprano voice.”
“I now understand why you pursued becoming a pianist and composer,” Anna said.
He nodded. “My parents supported my musical aspirations, but they never forced me to practice. I played the piano because I loved it. And after my first childhood recital, I knew that I wanted to be a professional pianist.”
“What happened?”
“People applauded.” He peered toward the ceiling, as if he were replaying memories in his mind. “I felt immense satisfaction to give others joy.”
Anna smiled.
“I practiced every day, and as I improved my piano skills, my mutter began to tell me that I was destined to perform at the Great Hall of the Musikverein in Vienna. Have you ever been there?”
“Nein,” Anna said. “What is it like?”