A Solution and A Distaster

The more I thought about it, the more I was convinced the easiest thing to do was just show G that I could get out without his key. If he knew he couldn't lock me in, why would he bother. If I was sitting outside on the steps when he got home and acted non-confontational and normal and happy to see him, he should get the message, without a fight. I went over and over it in my head. He didn't like to lose, but I was pretty sure it would just quietly go away. I hoped he'd rather ignore it than confront it.

With my mind made up, I relaxed. It was a pretty day and I decided to go for a walk. But then I realized if I left the apartment, I couldn't lock up. I couldn't take a chance of anything being stolen. That wouldn't help my case with G and trusting the Germans at all. So I settled for sitting on the outside steps. The sun had warmed the concrete and I sat there a long time. Every German who walked by nodded and said, "Tag" (sounds like tack with an aah sound) Meaning "day" or short for Guten Tag meaning good day. Two American girls went by pushing their babies in German strollers. Patty lived just down the street and asked me to walk with them. I just told them we didn't have a spare key yet and I'd better wait for another day. It was a pleasant afternoon and I never felt a moment of threat.

When it was near time for G to return, I went back out to the steps. My landlady found me there and jingled her keys and pointed upstairs. I kept telling her , "It's ok." and I stayed put. Finally she just sat down with me. Then Patty came back with her baby girl, and sat down with us. My landlady reached for the baby and Patty didn't hesitate. With Patty and the baby there, I could visably see my landlady relax. We enjoyed our attempted conversation and since Patty had already been in Germany for over a year, it was amazing how much we were able to share. Patty didn't speak the language either, but was able to understand more. And mostly the landlady played with the baby while Patty and I got acquainted. She was from Rhode Island and would be going home in the fall. I never told Patty how she saved me that day.

That is what G saw when a volkswagon pulled up and let him out. I introduced Patty as if this was perfectly normal. Then Patty's husband drove up and more introductions were made. The landlady slipped away and the rest of us talked for awhile before going home. (Now I could call it home.) G didn't say anything, didn't even ask how I'd come to be outside, just as I'd expected. On the way up the stairs I made a simple statement about him leaving the keys so I could lock the apartment when Patty and I went for a walk the next day. And, that was the end of my being locked in. Neither one of us lost control, and I thought I'd figured out how to handle my man. Little did I know that it was me who would eventually really lose control.

I was trying to follow the written instructions that came with the apartment. But, there was nothing to tell me where to pour out the bowls of my "sink." It seemed the obvious answer was to pour out my used dirty water down the toilet. Which I did for several days. Till my landlady came upstairs one morning and spent several minutes trying to tell me something. I couldn't follow all of her words, even though a few words were getting through. It all had something to do with "water closet" Finally she pulled out the drawer under the table, lifted out a bowl and walked to the window and acted like she was throwing it out. Then she took my hand and led me to the bathroom and pointed to the toilet and kept saying, "Nein, nein." That should have been clear enough. But, I'm telling on myself when I admit that after she left, I actually opened my "closet" wardrobe to see if there was a water drain on the floor. I still thought one of her nein's was also being said when she pantomimed throwing the dirty water out the window. But when there obviously wasn't any drain in the "water closet????", I figured I was going to have to throw it out the window. (OK, I learned "water closet" is a European way of saying toilet. After all, I WAS a 19 year old country girl.)

So, that very evening, after our meal and dishes were done, I opened the window...... But, there were a lot of people in the street and the window was right over the front door. So I decided it would be more considerate to throw it out the back window. Which I did. I'm always considerate of others. OH.....MY.......GOSH! I forgot the rabbit hutch. And why did the landlord have to be feeding his bunnies at just that moment??? I soaked the poor man and his rabbits. How could one bowl hold that much water? We could hear him yelling all the way through the basement, all through his house, all the way down the hall, all the way up the stairs and right through our door. Without so much as a knock. These were German words I knew I didn't want to learn. It was the first time I was afraid in Germany. The soaked man had his say, glared at me, then lifted out the second bowl, went to the window, (The big front window) stuck his head WAAY Out, looked both ways, shouted something totally unintelligible, and threw the water out of the window with enough angry force to clear the steps. (I know, I looked. After he stormed out.) When the door closed and the steps receeded, G burst out in laughter so hard he sank to the sofa holding his side. It took me awhile, but I also learned to clear the steps when I threw water. I never did figure out what I was suppose to yell, but I always waited till the street was clear. (Didn't I say I spent a lot of time at the window seat.) I still don't know why I couldn't just pour it down the water closet.

I wish I could remember their name. I can still see him exactly as he was when he opened our door and glared at me. A very wet, very angry, very imposing little old man.