Lukas - 4. Chapter 4

“Oh my god, I think that you’re right, Luka! That’s got to be him,” his father said after Lukas read the text to him.

Then the other side of the line was silent.

“Dad, are you still there?” Lukas asked.

“Sorry, ah, yes, I’m here. It’s just, I mean just a shock. I mean…I can’t believe that you were able to find him - I just can’t believe it.”

“I guess he was there in plain sight all the time, at least for the last few years. He’s one of the most well-known businessmen in the country right now, though I have to admit that tunnel boring machines are a bit arcane.”

They talked more about the impossibility of it all until his Dad asked him about the next steps. Lukas thought over the question.

“I’d like to try to meet him if I can. I still want to come home in a couple days. I’ve already given notice at my Pension, so I’ve at least got to get out of there. And, you know, I’ve been thinking about the other stuff that you told me. That he might not even want to see me, he might have moved on and is not the nostalgic type or is in the closet or any number of reasons, maybe he’s even married with a family. But I’ve got to try before I leave.”

“Good luck,” his father replied. “Whatever happens, we all can’t wait to see you again!”

                                 ***

On the fourth-floor offices of WGVM, they were preparing for the monthly meeting of the department heads which was always led by Severin Wagner, the founder.

Instead of meeting in the office, he often took them to a favorite local beer garden, where the conversation could be out of the office and more relaxed, a very un-corporate style, but then again, it was a relatively new company founded after the war and was not hidebound by some of the old traditions.

All day long he had been going from meeting to meeting and was in a rush to make this next event on time. As he was putting on his bespoke suit jacket, his long-time secretary told him that there was a young man there who had been waiting to see him since lunch time.

There were long-standing strict orders not to allow in anyone who did not have an appointment to even get close to Herr Wagner, but the receptionist mentioned it to her as she was passing through the lobby and she though that she’d at least pass it on, as it appeared to be a personal request and at this guy wasn’t a salesman or reporter. And he had stuck around for hours so was, at least, persistent.

“So he says his father went Gymnasium (high school) with me, is that right?” Severin asked her, pulling down the edge of his tie.

“Yes, that’s what he told the receptionist. I didn’t speak to him directly but I did see him out there. He must have been on his way somewhere because he has a rucksack with him. And I did hear him say that everyone thinks that he looks like his dad.”

“Hmmm…Severin replied. “You know, this would be the third classmate, or son of a classmate, who has tried to contact me in the last few years. I guess our minor notoriety gets us some attention, yes?” he asked.

“My school had a lot of enthusiastic Nazis, and this might be another,” he continued, sighing. “I need to get to the meeting, so let’s do this quick.” He then when into this office and from the files behind his modern birchwood desk pulled out a photograph of his Gymnasium class and handed it to her.

It was the photo that they often gave out with biographical press releases. “Which one of these Hitler Youth does this person down there most resemble?” he asked, chuckling, as he adjusted his tie.

“She looked over the 25 or so classmates, arranged in two rows and suddenly said, “Oh, that’s easy, this one!”

“Oh really? Point him out,” he said as he stepped next to her.

“Him - that guy with the dark hair. No question. It’s weird - it can’t be the same person, of course, but he looks exactly like him.

Severin looked at the picture and immediately stopped fussing with his suit and stared at the image.

“Him?” he asked again? It was unusual for her boss to ask the same questions twice, she thought. He always picked up things so quickly.

“What is it?” she asked him, noticing his surprise and the fact that he now seemed frozen. Typically, he was almost a whirling dervish, in constant motion.

“Are you sure?” he asked again.

“Yes, yes I am. Why are you so surprised. Who is this kid in the picture?”

He sat down on one of the leather seats of his private reception area.

And just asked again. “Really?”

“Herr Wagner,” his longtime secretary asked in the tone of voice that told him that she needed to know something, “who is this boy in the picture?”

Severin just stared at the picture. “He was…a friend,” he answered, staring at the picture.

Just then, another secretary entered the room. “Herr Wagner, the managers are waiting for you downstairs.”

It appeared that he didn’t even hear, until he said, “Ask Herr Metzger if he’d chair the meeting today. Tell him something has come up that I need to take care of. I’ll catch up tomorrow.”

                                 ***

Lukas had waited downstairs for more than six hours and was about to give up on the whole search. Initially, he had asked in his improving but still broken German, but she replied in perfect English, much to his relief. Every half-hour or so he repeated his request and she politely smiled back and said that that one needed an appointment to see Herr Wagner, but then she would inform his staff. Lukas knew that he might not even be there or even care, but he was leaving town on the midnight train so it was his one and only chance.

Suddenly, the receptionist received a call and then motioned him over.

“I’ll buzz you in that door there. Take the elevator straight ahead to the 4th floor, the top floor, and Herr Wagner’s secretary will meet you. But first give me your full name and middle initial and I’ll give you a name tag.

After sticking the nametag on his jacket, Lukas picked up his rucksack and maneuvered through the door and into the tiny two-person elevator beyond.

When he emerged, instead of a staff person to meet him, it was Herr Wagner himself. Lukas had an idea of what he looked like, and he matched the picture in the brochure, except for perhaps a bit more gray hair.

He seemed calmer than Lukas expected, not a flashy business baron, but a self-assured, measured executive in what Lucas thought was a very stylish suit - probably Italian. But when he reached out to shake hands the man’s palms were wet and clammy.

“My secretary was right. You are the image of your father, you do not need the name tag at all!” he exclaimed in excellent German-accented English, giving Lukas a smile and a firm grip, as firm as he could make it with his slippery hands. Not that Lucas was without anxiety himself.

“Yes, everyone has always told me that,” he responded, smiling, and continued the introduction. “I’m Lukas Richter.”

Severin then introduced Lukas to his secretary and thanked her for sending him up to his office. “No need for you to stay late since I’m not going to the committee meeting. I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said to her. It was already past quitting time but they always stayed on to help him prepare for this important meeting. Except for today.

“You’re welcome, Herr Wagner,” she replied, surprised at how he completely changed his schedule for this one person. Being punctual and predictable was what they had all come to expect from him. Like a lot of people of that generation, much of the past was off-limits as a discussion topic so she knew better than to ask any more questions.

“You’re a tough guy to track down,” Lukas said as Herr Wagner motioned him into one of the leather guest chairs around the meeting alcove of Severin’s office. On one of the walls, in a special niche with fancy lighting like they have for precious objects in museums was what looked like some kind of old, mechanical contraption, like a teenagers mechanical model. Along with this there was a gallery of photos of the company’s machinery, with dramatic shots of tunnels in the Alps, South America and Asia.

“Can I get you some water or coffee? I’m sorry that I’m not better prepared,” Herr Wagner asked.

“Oh no sir, that’s not necessary right now, not right now at least, but thank you.”

They each started to say something, then the other started to speak until finally Severin said, “Just go ahead,” and gave another smile.”

“As I said, you’re a difficult guy to find. My Dad joined the American Army and was sent over here to interrogate prisoners and do intel work and spent a lot of his free time trying to find you. It’s a long story, but in the end, he didn’t even find any leads and reluctantly gave up.

“But he thought the world of you and credits you for saving his life, and the life of everyone in my family.”

“I wouldn’t go that far, Lukas, but I appreciate the sentiment. It was really your dad’s own efforts, but, as you say, it’s a long story for both of us, I think.”

Severin then described how he was in a POW camp after the war in the French Sector. They were in no mood to be magnanimous winners and he almost starved to death but considered himself lucky to even be alive.

They talked like this for about a half hour. It was light conversation, nostalgic and friendly, but Lukas definitely sensed a barrier, like there were things that couldn’t be brought up. He was hoping there would be some polite way to bring up the homosexual part. But it appeared that, for all his anticipation, that maybe it was something that couldn’t be broached.

Like his Dad told him, one couldn’t be sure of anything forty years later.

When the conversation seemed to draw still, in spite of all that could be talked about, Severin asked if he would like a tour of his factory. Of course, Lukas said he’d like that, but inside, somewhat despaired about when he could really talk to him.

“I need to fill out this form for the government about any foreigners who take tours. National security, you know,” he said, shaking is head.

Normally, my secretary does this, but for right now, I’ll handle it,” he said. I’ll need to get your passport number and your official name,” he said before he walked out of the office to his secretary’s desk and quickly retrieved a form.

“Ok, the first question you should be able to answer without looking at your passport,” he said, smiling. The nametag they gave you says, “Lukas S. Richter.’ I assume the ‘S’ is for Samuel, yes? That was your Opa’s name.

Lukas looked at him and made sure that he had eye contact. “Yes, Samuel was Opa’s name. but the ‘S’ in my name is for Severin. I was named after you. My Dad told my mom that she could name the kids anything she wanted, but that the first boy would have that as his middle name.”

Severin put the form down and turned away, his hands covering his face.

It was now or never, Lukas thought to himself. He took a deep breath.

“Can I be direct, sir? I might say something that hurts you or you find offensive, but to be honest, it’s the biggest reason that I’m here.”

“Yes, please,” he said, turning back to face Lukas. He gently smiled at this visitor, but his eyes were now red.

“Last May, I told my dad that I was a gay, a homosexual,” Lukas started. He was unsure of the word ‘gay’ had made to Austria.

“I didn’t know what he’d think, or the rest of my family for that matter, but I couldn’t avoid telling them. It was just too hard to hide it. It was killing me. This was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. I was scared that they might reject me, or feel different about me, or god knows what. I’d seen what happened to other people and while I hoped for the best, I had to be prepared for the worst. But you know what my dad said? He said that the only homosexual he ever knew, or thought he knew, was the kindest, strongest, most faithful friend anyone could have. And on top of that, was smart and athletic and all sorts of other qualities that made him a model human being. And if that wasn’t enough, he said what a creative person you were and told me about your inventions for tunnel digging machinery. It must be that old model over there,” he continued, nodding toward the glass display case with a primitive boring machine model. In fact, that’s how I found you, by looking up Austrian tunnel companies. it was my last chance attempt to make a connection.”

Severing looked down before replying.

“I…I wish that I was half the person that your dad thinks I am. It’s so nice of him. I always knew that he was an outstanding person, and I now know that I was more right than I thought.”

Then he sighed. “I think that in, what you say in English, my ‘heart of hearts,’ I knew that your dad couldn’t return my feelings. But I was so overwhelmed when it was actually time for him to leave, I couldn’t help myself. I just wanted him to know how I felt.”

“For all these years, I wondered if I had offended him, or scared him, I didn’t know. As soon as I saw how surprised he was, I just ran. I didn’t know what else to do. I knew he wouldn’t hurt me or hate me. But I couldn’t face him anymore. I just couldn’t. it was too much for me. I was really just a boy…”

Lukas reached across the table between them and put his hand on Severin’s right hand, who then put his other hand around Lukas’s. Neither said anything for a few moments, until Severin squeezed Lukas tight and let go.

“I think we really do have a lot to talk about,” Severin said.

“Yes, I agree, but I have bit of a problem right now. I rushed over to meet you, but I had planned on leaving town tonight. I want to stay. I can cancel my ticket, but it’s getting late to get a pension for the night, so I need to go and arrange something.”

Severin looked at him. “Lukas, I live in a 5-bedroom villa, just me and my housekeeper. Please, stay with me. I can call the housekeeper and have a room ready for you and have dinner, too!” he said and added, “She’s very proud of her cooking and would be very glad to set another place at dinner.”

“I don’t want to impose, sir. It’s not hard to find a place. I just need to get something by around 8 pm or so.”

“Lukas, I would be glad to have you, You’ve done so much by coming here and finding me. It’s really made me happy. I had your father and your Opa stay at my parents’ house and it was no trouble at all. Of course, they were in the basement for two weeks, but I won’t put you there,” he added with a chuckle, looking up at Lukas who smiled back.

“But I would be honored to host my classmate’s son. Please…” he asked again.

“OK, sir. as long as I’m not intruding. I’d actually like that.”

“That’s wonderful! I’ve got a big useless house that I only need for business events. I’d like it to finally do some good. And we could even call your dad from there if that’s OK. The tour can come later.”

“And one more thing. No need to call me ‘Sir.’ Your dad might have suggested that as an English substitute for ‘Sie,’ the formal address in German. I appreciate the effort. But please call me Sev, or Sevo, like my friends do.”

                                 ***

On the 25-minute drive back to Severin’s house, Lukas told him all about the family, including his sister, his Aunt Rena and Uncle Fexil and also about his Mom, and how she had recently passed away. He also gently broached the gay issue a little bit more. Severin never mentioned any relationships but told him that it it’s a balancing act to be in his position and yet have a life. He didn’t go into detail but said that since his Wehrmacht days, he doesn’t pretend to have a wife. It was like he was trying to mentor Lukas. It wasn’t a long drive but was an opportunity for him to give Lukas a further glimpse into his life.

When they arrived, the housekeeper met them at the door, taking Severin’s coat and hanging it by the door. As he introduced her, she reached out her hand to Lukas and welcomed him in broken English.

“By the way, Lukas, do you eat breakfast? Frau Marchuk can make just about anything that you’d like. She’s a wonderful cook.”

She beamed, probably only half understanding the words but completely understanding the sentiment.

“Well, I do like breakfast…if it’s not inconvenient for Frau Marchuk.”

“Not at all!” Severin replied, looking at her. “She’d love to cook for you. She’ll already be making breakfast for me, so it’s no extra work,”

“Well, I’d like to go native, so could you make me a typical Austrian breakfast?” he asked. “Probably what you would have.” Lukas added.

“It will be on your plate when you wake up tomorrow morning!” he answered.

He then turned to her and spoke in German. Lukas could roughly understand that Severin was giving instructions for breakfast, mentioning some kind of bread and also orange juice. Lucas suspected that he was using local dialect for some of the food names, but he did pick out the words ‘…kein Schinken,’ meaning ‘no pork.’ He had also heard those words on the phone when he called Frau Marchuk from his office.

She listened attentively, and Lukas noticed that she quickly scanned him up-and-down after Severin gave the instructions. ‘Maybe she’d never seen a live Jewish person before,’ he thought.

It saved him from a potentially awkward moment. Lukas didn’t consider himself very religious, but he had promised his late mother that he would not eat pork and it was a vow that he intended to keep. Whatever they had planned for dinner, he would just play it by ear. But he knew that with Severin he didn’t worry about his promise, at least in this house.

After dropping his rucksack at the entry, Severin gave Lukas a short tour of the ground floor of the house. He thought that with the wood paneling and parquet floors, it was probably built around the turn of the century but had been tastefully updated with modern recessed lighting, contemporary Bauhaus-style furniture and a sparkling new kitchen. Lukas thought that it was a very sensitive combination of new and old.

After the tour, he then showed Lukas to the room that he’d be staying in. It was on the upper floor, a handsome corner suite, including en-suite bathroom, that overlooked a pleasant backyard garden that he could barely make out in the darkness before they got called downstairs for dinner.

They ate in a small breakfast nook rather than the big dining room, an intimate wood-paneled space with soft, modern lighting that had its own view of the garden.

At one point during dinner, Severin held his stomach, but just for a brief moment. Lukas asked him if he was OK, and he replied, “Oh yes, I’m fine, just a bit of…I think…indigestion. Maybe I’m just nervous thinking about our call.” Frau Marchuk seemed to give him a stern look, but he just continued with the conversation.

But both of them wanted to make the call as soon as possible and wolfed down their meals. Lukas’ dad would be at the hospital and he would be done with his morning surgeries. Immediately after finishing the meal, they moved to Severin’s study where they hunched over the speaker phone placed in the middle of his sleek wooden desk. After Severin hit the last button, it seemed to take forever until Lukas heard the familiar American ring tone.

“Hi Sandy? This is Lukas. Is my dad there?” he asked the secretary.

“Yes, I think he is. By the way, Lukas, are you still enjoying Europe? Still galivanting around? ” she answered.

“Yes, it’s great. Thanks for asking,” he replied. While it was normally fine to spend time kibbitzing with her, he had a purpose now and didn’t want chit-chat to delay this call. “I’ll tell you all about it when I get back, but could you see if my dad is there now? You know how expensive these overseas calls can get,” he joked, smiling up at Severin who immediately understood his minor dilemma.

“Oh, OK, of course. But I’ll hold you to your promise! Anyway, I see him going into this office. I’ll send the call in there now. Bye!”

“See you!” Lukas replied, then sighed.

Severin looked up at him and smiled. “That’s the story of my life.” he whispered.

It was a moment before there was a sound at the other end of the line.

“Hello?”

“Dad, hi, it’s me.”

“Luka? Where are you? I thought that you’d be gone by now?” his father asked. “Are you calling from the train station?”

“I’m in a very nice house in Vienna, dad. With someone that you know”

“Severin!?” his dad asked.

Even though he was excited, Severin tried to answer calmly. “Hans? Is that you?”

“Yes! Yes! Oh my god! Sevo, it’s so good to hear your voice! I can’t believe it. Luka said he thought that he had found you, but I didn’t’ know, I wasn’t sure, I….”

“I’m glad he pushed it, Hans. He spent half the day in my lobby and I didn’t know he was there. I feel terrible about that,” he confessed. “But I first want to compliment you on your son. He’s a diligent and determined young man whom you should be extremely proud of,” he said. “And he really does look like you,” he added. “It is uncanny. It’s like you’re here in front of me, just in a taller, smarter version,” he said, laughing on both sides of the phone.

“That’s all his mother,” Hans responded. “She was tall for a girl and smarter than me, too,” he added, his voice slightly quieter.

“Lukas told me a little bit about her and your family,” Severin answered. “She must have been special, both for you and for the son she raised. And I’m sure for your daughters, too.”

“She was,” Hans added. He was silent for moment before he continued. “She would have loved to have met you. I told her all about you. I wish that she were still here,” he added, “But at least I’ve found you.”

“Thank you, Hans, and likewise,” he replied. “This will take us a long time… but where to start….”

After a few minutes of speaking English and describing his current situation as President of a small (he didn’t mention over 400 employees) company, Severin asked Lukas if he could speak German. His English was perfectly fluent, but he was so overwhelmed that he couldn’t ‘feel’ fast enough in English and wanted to speak in his mother tongue.

For his part, Lukas was glad to oblige. He could sense the joy in his dad’s voice even though he wouldn’t be able to quite keep up with the conversation when they switched languages.

It was interesting for Lukas to hear his Dad speak German, which he almost never did in front of his children, and neither did Aunt Rena or Uncle Fexl. But unlike Severin, he mixed in English, a testament to his long-time, almost total estrangement from the language of his birth.

After a few minutes of being a rather mute and somewhat hapless spectator, Lukas motioned to Severin that he was going to go to bed. Severin raised his finger, asking him to wait a second.

“I need to say, ‘good night’ to your son, Hansi. Just give me a moment,” he said in English.

“Of course,’ they heard from the speaker.

Raising himself from the wicker chair, he approached Lukas and embraced him. “Thank you so much,” he whispered in his ear, then kissed him on each check. “You are truly a son to be proud of.”

Lukas squeezed him tight, returning the embrace that Severin missed forty years before. The corporate CEO and company founder, one of the leading industrialists of the city, wiped his eyes with his sleeve, then squeezing Lukas’ shoulder before sitting back down and continuing the call with his old classmate.