realized that Alfred was not yet back. “Where the hell is my brother?” he asked, gazing around the beer hall.
“I bet he’s still pissing from all that beer,” said Reinhard.
“He said he had some cramps. Maybe he’s working from the other end too,” laughed Sigmund.
“I better go check. The way he’s been guzzling, for all I know he passed out,” said Werner.
In the rear of the beer hall were a number of outhouses for the customers to use. Werner passed several cabins on the way. A full moon illuminated the area. He reached the outhouses and checked them all. Alfred was not in any of them. As he started to return, he heard the door of one of the cabins open and saw Alfred walk out. Werner stopped. He realized that his brother had visited Frieda, but he was not surprised. He backed up into the shadows. He froze. He hoped Alfred had not seen him.
As he stood there watching Alfred leave, his marital situation flooded his brain. He became angry; he thought about the coldness of his wife. His muscles tensed. His fists clenched. He visualized Frieda in her long skirt incapable of hiding her desirable body. His mind’s eye could see her swaying as she walked. His body stirred. Lust began to overwhelm him. He could feel his heart pound and accelerate. He walked toward her cabin, his wide eyes fixed on the unclosed door. He buried every other thought; only one thing was on his mind. He would not take no for an answer. He walked into the unlit room. It was not easy to see, but he could detect Frieda lying in bed. She turned her head and looked at a dim outline of a man silhouetted against the open door. She said nothing as Werner closed the door, darkening the room, and walked toward her.
Werner returned in fifteen minutes. “Did you get lost?” said Alfred, eyeing his brother with suspicion.
“Me? Where the hell were you? I thought you fell in. I looked all over for you,” said Werner.
“You took a world record piss,” said Alfred.
“Second place,” said Werner. “You got first prize.”
They changed the subject and stayed until midnight. Werner arrived home and crawled into bed without disturbing his wife. He fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.
CHAPTER 4
The next morning, Brigid was in the kitchen preparing breakfast when Werner walked into the room. She wondered if he would continue the topic of discussion held the previous day. “When did you get home?” she asked, twisting her apron strings.
“About midnight,” he answered without looking at her.
“How’s Alfred holding up?”
“It looks like he’s ready for the big day,” he said in a monotone.”
“Did you all have a good time?”
Werner thought back at the evening, but did not answer the question. It was clear to Brigid that this was not a topic he was interested in this morning. “I was just thinking about our appointment today,” he said.
“Appointment?”
“You forgot Pastor Braun?” he said with a sarcastic smirk. “He asked to see us. You want me to tell him the hell with it? What does it hurt to see what he says? We should go because he wants us to. He married us remember? Or would you rather forget?”
“Don’t worry. I’ll go,” she said with sad resignation.
After ten minutes of a silent breakfast, they arrived at Pastor Braun’s residence. He was tall and thin, six foot one inch, and towered over the both of them.
They sat in front of an antique desk before a large window covered with sheer white curtains. Pastor Braun sat behind the desk on a large wood and upholstered chair with a high back. The sun shone through the window and gleamed off Pastor Braun’s snow-white hair, almost giving the appearance of a halo. Brigid sat wringing her hands, a frightened expression on her face. A crucified Jesus hung on the wall next to the window and seemed to be staring down at her.
The pastor spoke. ”First, before we go on, I forgot to ask Werner an important question when we talked.”
“What?”
“Have you visited a doctor yet?”
“No,” they both replied.
The pastor nodded his head and said, “That must be the first step. I know of some women who doctors have helped. Sometimes there are unusual problems of a structural or anatomical nature that can interfere with conception or a pregnancy.”
There go those damn big words again, thought Werner. He said, “I told my wife that we should see a doctor, but she thinks it’s the will of God and that doctors can’t do a damn thing.”
“She may be right, but still a medical problem must be eliminated before you embark on the next step.”
Embark? Yeah, thought Werner. “The next step? What do you mean?” asked Werner.
“Yes, adoption, if it comes to that,” replied the pastor.
Werner and Brigid turned and looked at each other. Their expressions did not change. Werner broke the gaze. Then he shook his head and said, “No way. I’m thinking of my father. He wouldn’t want a bastard to take over the farm.”
“You could be wrong, Werner. If I know your father, he’ll stay out of your decision. But what about you? Would you consider adoption at all?”
“Wait a minute. That’s something I need plenty of time to think about. Right now we got to know if my wife can ever get pregnant.”
Pastor Braun said, “You’re right, Werner. That makes sense for now, but as long as you think in terms of an adopted child as a bastard, I wouldn’t want to help you to adopt. Newborn children are innocent. They didn’t ask to be born. They come into the world with an empty mind. They don’t know their parents until someone picks them up, holds them, feeds them, and comforts them. The people who do that are parents whether or not they produced the child. The Bible teaches that adoption is more than a legal contract. It’s a covenant, a sacred promise that represents the foundation of a personal relationship. You honor God when you adopt a child.
“But, I agree, we’re getting ahead of ourselves. You should take one-step at a time. I urge you to visit a doctor first. I can recommend one in Munich who specializes in problems such as yours. If he can’t do anything to help, then we can concentrate on other matters. Will you go, Brigid, and you, Werner?”
She responded almost before the pastor had finished the sentence. “Yes, I will.” She felt strengthened by the pastor. He was making sense. Then she added, “Werner had the idea about a doctor first. If there’s any chance that I can be helped, I’ll take it.”
Werner’s mouth opened wide. He stared at his wife and nodded his head. The pastor smiled and said, “Good, the doctor’s name is Erwin Bloch. He specializes in obstetrics and gynecology. He’s a professor at the University of Munich and has a large consulting practice. He’s helped a number of women I sent to him. But he’ll be the first to tell you that he can only help a few. I just want you to go to see if there’s any possibility that Brigid can get help. Does that make sense, Werner?”
Werner,
