They finished their breakfast, eggs and fried potatoes with ham, with lots of hot German coffee, then headed over to the concierge, who obliged by placing the call and handing the phone to Cole. He could handle this part. Not only did Hans agree to attend the museum dedication as Cole’s guest, but he also invited Cole and Danny to meet him in the city later that day.
That afternoon, they met Hans at a coffee shop not far from the Marienplatz, a wide cobblestoned square in the heart of Munich. Expensive shops and restaurants lined the surrounding streets. The city itself dated far into ancient times and was known as the capital of Bavaria. Loosely interpreted, München as it was known in German, translated to “The Monk’s Place” in reference to the ancient monasteries around which the city had grown.
“There you are!” Hans said as they came through the door. He shook Cole’s hand vigorously, smiling. The old man’s grip was strong. “Forgive me, but I already feel as if we are old friends.”
“Us old-timers need to stick together,” Cole said.
Hans turned to Danny and shook his hand enthusiastically as well. “It is good to see you helping your grandfather. Who knows, you may even learn something from him?” The old German turned to indicate a pretty teenage girl at his elbow. Cole had to admit that he hadn’t paid attention to the girl when he had first entered the shop. However, he could see that Danny’s eyes were riveted on her. “Allow me to introduce my niece, Angela. My grand-niece, actually. Like Danny here, she is keeping an old man out of trouble.”
It was clear that Angela instantly had Danny’s full attention. From the stunned look on Danny’s face, it was evident that his grandson had taken one of Cupid’s arrows right through the heart.
“Uh hi,” Danny said.
“Hello,” Angela said. It was obvious from her bright smile that meeting a young American her own age was an unexpected benefit of escorting her great-uncle around town.
Hans winked at Cole, who thought with amusement that the old German knew exactly what he was doing. Like Danny, his grand-niece had likely expected a boring afternoon keeping her aged uncle company, but Hans had set the stage for something else.
More coffee arrived, along with a plate of pastries, and after some polite exchanges among the four of them, the table divided into two conversations, one between Hans and Cole, and the other between Danny and Angela that seemed to focus on music.
“I want to thank you for inviting me to the museum dedication,” Hans said. “I am truly honored. I am also curious. I must admit that we Germans have mixed emotions about anything to do with the war.”
“That’s understandable,” Cole said.
“Of course, the people of Munich have an even more difficult relationship to the war, considering that the Nazi party got its start in the beer halls here. Berlin may be the capital of Germany, but Munich is seen as the capital of the old Nazi party.”
“Not the proudest history.”
Hans shrugged and sipped his coffee. “But you know, the Nazi party involved relatively few people here, especially at first. It is the end of the war that many people have the bitterest memories of. That’s when the Allied bombings took place and so many people died. People in my own family. Women and children. What did they have to do with the war? Nothing, really. Many see those bombings as retribution. It was revenge, pure and simple.”
Cole nodded. He had no love for Nazi Germany, but he had to admit that the thought of the many civilian deaths in the air raids made him uncomfortable. “The war wasn’t fair,” he said.
“It left many people bitter,” Hans said. “Also, here in Munich at the end of the war, many Germans saw us as giving up too easily when the first Allied troops arrived. There was very little fighting except by a few die-hards.”
“Maybe most people had the good sense to know when to call it quits.”
Hans nodded. “If only they had called it quits much sooner. We might all have been spared a great deal of sorrow.”
The conversation moved to more pleasant topics, which was just fine by Cole. Already, he was having some misgivings about the big museum opening tomorrow. The war had ended decades before, but some wounds took a long time to heal. The museum was intended to help that healing process, but Cole couldn’t help but feel that the museum was still managing to pour salt in some of those wounds.
As the afternoon moved toward evening, with the shadows lengthening outside and after-work crowds beginning to fill the street, they started to say their goodbyes for now. Cole was starting to think about his supper and maybe trying the Schnitzel tonight.
But to Cole’s surprise, Danny announced, “Hey, Pa Cole, Angela invited me to the Hofbräuhaus with her friends after this. If it’s all right, I mean.”
“I reckon I can find my way back to the hotel.”
Hans said, “I certainly won’t get lost, either. I’ve known Munich my whole life. You two go along and have a good time with friends. It is what young people should do.” He looked at Cole. “Agreed?”
“Agreed,” Cole said.
Danny and Angela headed for the Hofbräuhaus. Hans melted into the crowds flowing home. Cole returned to the hotel and ate alone, which was, well, lonely, but the food was good.
Much later, back in his room, he heard Danny return. His grandson was out in the hall, fumbling with the door to his own room. He seemed to be having some trouble fitting the key to the lock and getting it open.
Cole went out and found his grandson reeling a bit, but smiling happily.
“I guess someone had a good time,” Cole said.
“Probst!” Danny replied, then hiccuped. “I had two beers! I feel a little dizzy.”
“Oh boy,” Cole said. In his experience, a German beer was a large stein of strong lager. “Let’s get you to bed.”
He got the door open, helped Danny get his coat and shoes off, then tumbled him into bed.
Danny fell asleep instantly.
Shaking his head, Cole decided to stay and keep an eye on his grandson. The damn fool boy. He sat in a chair by the window, where he could look out and see the lights of the city. From time to time, a plane took off, bound for New York City or maybe London or Paris. His thoughts wandered across the years, strung out like beads of dew on a spiderweb. He dozed. At first light, reassured that Danny was fine, he slipped back into his own room.
“I’ll never drink another beer as long as I live,” Danny stated miserably.
They were having a late breakfast at the hotel restaurant. Danny sat slumped with his head in his hands, looking miserable.
Cole had to laugh. “If I had a nickel for every time I heard someone say that the next morning, I coulda bought Rockefeller Square.”
“You’re making fun of me,” Danny said.
“No, it’s just something to keep in mind when you feel better tonight and you have an urge to visit that beer hall again. I ain’t gonna lecture you. Hopefully, you learned your lesson.”
Danny just groaned.
Cole gave him his fresh-squeezed OJ. “Don’t worry. You’ll live.”
“I did have a good time, though. Angela was nice. Her friends were fun. She said I ought to come back and visit this summer.”
Cole surprised himself by saying, “Something to think about.”
By the time the hour arrived to get ready for the museum opening that evening, Danny was fully recovered and back to his usual chipper self. That was youth for you, Cole thought, along with some help from a nap and an afternoon swim in the hotel pool. In fact, it was Cole who felt himself dragging after he had put on his suit, freshly pressed by the hotel staff. Sure, part of it was the damn jet lag. But another part of him was simply dreading the opening and all of the old wounds it might open.