A new home
The apartment that was provided for Franz Weiher by Rolf Schneider was small but cozy. It was situated in a charming house not far from the University campus. Martin marveled at the pretty and old building as he trotted up the steps to the front door. He unlocked it and as per instruction, climbed the stairs to the third floor where his apartment was to the right. It took a second or two to unlock the door. The key was rusty and so was the lock.
The apartment had a small bathroom with the most minuscule shower he'd ever seen in his life, and a small bedroom with a single bed pushed up against the wall across from the window. The view of the window was the courtyard of a building that stood behind his own. The third room had a kitchenette and a round table with three chairs. There was an unreasonably large window that, although it looked at the same courtyard, had a much prettier view. Martin went back and forth between the two windows several times and tried to understand how one of them opened into a picturesque courtyard and the other displayed an almost ugly painting. He concluded that due to the angle, the ivy lining the house's wall either looked like a purposeful design or a child-like scribble. He chuckled to himself and searched for a pencil and paper. He drew the two different views as detailed and as exaggerated as he could, then he folded the paper up and put it down on the table. He'd send it back to Marlene and the children.
On the dining room table, there was a fine bottle of French wine standing atop a map of the Elsass. A basket of fruit and bread stood next to it, it was smaller than the one he'd received when Schneider had first reached out to Franz Weiher, but it was nonetheless a treat. He sat down and grabbed an apple. He bit into it and reveled at the taste. It was crunchy and a tad bit sour, just how he liked his apples best. He noticed a small note and picked it up.
Dear Kamerad Weiher
I hope you enjoy the basket I have prepared for you. The wine is one of my favorites. I advise you to drink it on the balcony, the view is quite pretty. Best of luck on Monday!
Greetings
Rolf Schneider
The note was short and kind. Martin immediately answered: he was sure that if he waited he'd forget. He dreaded the work at the university already and he guessed he wouldn't have much time to answer notes. He'd probably be spending the next few months catching up on medical knowledge that he didn't have but was expected to. The only hope he had was that Franz's memory might kick in and help him. But he had no idea if it would or wouldn't and there was nothing he could do but wait and see.
He took Schneider's advice and popped open the bottle. He sat outside, half on the balcony and half in the apartment - the balcony wasn't big enough to place his chair on fully. The sun began to set, bathing Strassburg in a warm glow.
Martin pushed all thoughts away and all feelings of guilt and fear deep down. He smiled to himself as he sipped the red. It was deliciously French. He whipped out the pen and paper again and made another pencil drawing.
This one he would keep for himself. He drew a handsome German man seated on a balcony big enough to hold several chairs. He made the sunset dip into the man's glass, so it looked like the sky itself was gifting the man his wine. He added two more men next to the thoughtfully smiling German. One of them slightly resembled Schneider, and the other was a random sketch: a face that could but might not resemble Sievers.
Martin studied the picture carefully after he'd finished. It was no masterpiece, he'd never been talented at drawing or whatever, but it was alright. He slipped it into the pocket of his coat.
"Whatever you have in stock for me Strassburg, I'm ready for it." He said to himself quietly.
But Strassburg didn't answer.
And Martin Weiher was incredibly wrong to believe that he was even slightly prepared for what he'd witness and take part in his time in the occupied city.