“Good evening” I said to him in German.
“Good evening” he replied as he turned and looked at me.
I think he may have smiled, but I’m still not sure. The man was not very tall, well-built, and about 50 years old. His short dark hair was greying, and he had piercing blue husky-dog eyes.
“Could you tell me, please, if there’s anywhere nearby I could stay for the night?”
“The closest motel is 40 miles from here,” replied the man, waving his hand to the side. “You’ll get there by the morning,” he grinned. His *Hoch Deutsch [*standardised German] was flawless. “You can spend the night here.” The man nodded towards the house.
I agreed without hesitation. I slept like a log and didn’t have any dreams. The bed and the pillow felt like the greatest inventions of mankind.
I woke up early to drizzling rain pounding outside. The small room he’d offered me was dark and cool. In the corner, an old clock was loudly ticking away. It was 5.30am. The owner of the house was walking around. I could hear the creaking of floorboards. I stretched and was about to get up when I saw a dog and startled. A large black Labrador was sitting in the middle of the room and was staring at me.
“Alicia” called the voice of the man, and the dog jumped up and ran out of the room.
I got dressed and followed her through the living room and into the kitchen, which emitted the wonderful aroma of fresh coffee. The man was conjuring something up at the stove. Alicia, the unusually named dog, was sitting next to him, apparently waiting for breakfast.
Without turning around, the man said, “Sit down.”
I was confused, did he have eyes in the back of his head or something? I hadn’t even had a chance to say good morning to him, but he already knew I was there.
“Sit down” he repeated and pointed to the table.
My breakfast was waiting for me. Scrambled eggs, ham and fresh bread, which seemed to be just out of the oven. I sat down and began to eat. The man sat across from me and stared for a while as I was eating. Then he asked,
“What are you looking for in this area?”
The question surprised and puzzled me, as I didn’t even really know what I was looking for myself.
“A new life” I said uncertainly.
“A new life, heh?” he laughed. “A new life” he said again and shook his head, then got up from the table.
Coffee was boiling in a coffee pot on the old gas stove. The man turned off the heat and began to pour liquid into cups.
“And what about your old life?” he asked.
“I failed” I answered.
“How old are you, boy?” he said as he put the cup in front of me.
I looked at him. He had an unusual gaze and looked at me without any particular expression. It was difficult to decipher his mood, but even still I felt comfortable with him. I thought I could trust him. The hell could’ve I trusted him! But more on that later.
“Fifteen” I answered.
“Well, if you are looking for a new life, I have an offer for you.” He sat back in his chair and reached for the cup. “I need an assistant. There is a lot of work to do, but you’re not afraid of a challenge, are you?” He leaned forward a little.
“No,” I answered.
“I’ll give you shelter, food and anything else you need in exchange for a promise. You must stay here until November, when the last harvest of grapes is gathered.”
“All right” I promised.
He held out his hand and I shook it. His grip was strong and confident. This was not a man of compromise.
