incendiarystory's Journal

Why Sleep When I'll Only Dream - CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
The Trains In Germany Never Claimed To Run On Time

Standing there by the open entrance to track one at Zoo Station, Scott became certain that there was something different about Emily. The fact that it was almost 10:00 a.m. and there was still no sign of her. He was positive he was waiting in the right place. There was no other place in Zoo Station that they had ever discussed.

Was he supposed to be waiting next to the track where her train had arrived from Paris? That couldn't be it because she wouldn't have expected him to do the research to know that. Was he supposed to be waiting next to the track where his train had arrived from Prague? That couldn't be it either since she wouldn't have known at the time of her first e-mail that he was coming from Prague. Was he supposed to be waiting next to the track where his train had arrived from Warsaw?

No, this was most certainly the right track. He checked his watch again. He thought that he should go back to the hostel. He decided against that plan since she had made it clear that she only wanted to meet him here that previous night. The last thing that he wanted to do was break down the plans she had made. Not only would that make her angry at him but it would again breach the defenses she set up and could set her over the edge again. The Emily he knew got out of emotional states like the one she was in now through careful plans.

Scott wasn't sure, however, that this was the Emily he knew anymore.

It wasn't just her demeanor from the previous night that had convinced him that he might be dealing with an entirely different woman internally. After all she had been through, she deserved to be cynical, a trait so unlike her. And, since he wasn't exactly Mr. Trusting himself, he couldn't hold her to account for her attitude. But, there was something more to it. Her entire personality had seemed to change. The fire in her attitude was gone, just like the fire he had failed to see anymore in her eyes.

It was as if all of the energy that she had expended through her trials in Paris had left a nothing but a shell of the Emily he loved.

He could imagine her in the alleyway in Paris. There was definitely a fire in her then as she took that guy down a peg or two. He could see the focused rage in her eyes in her mental picture. And, he had to imagine that her parting words to Sandra could not have been too kind as evidenced by the fact that his cousin wasn't with her in Berlin. He'd definitely have to ask her about that. That was the original event that had him running to Berlin to comfort her, after all.

The forest fire that must have been burning in her heart at the time was enough to call in departments from multiple states, a Smokey The Bear nightmare. But, now all of that seemed to be gone leaving acreage of black, charred remains of what used to be great clumps of trees. The fire would have had to have burned itself out.

Scott felt a great deal of guilt for not having been there when the initial campfire that started the conflagration was left unattended. He had always been there in the past to stamp out or extinguish in some other way the humble beginnings of these destructive forces. It never took much water to stop the damage to Emily's psyche before it got to the point it was now.

He had never seen this point, he had never had to see this point. This point in Emily's spiral into depression and anxiety actually scared him. He thought that her mind could now be considered a salted Earth where no trees could ever grow again.

No, that couldn't be true. This was Emily, his little insurgent. She could battle through anything in the name of what she held dear - in this case her sanity. But she seemed unarmed for this particular skirmish. She was a sitting duck for any enemy fire. She was going to end up just like the statue, a memorial to the Emily that once was.

And he could only blame one person for it. It wasn't the guy who had tried to rape her in the alley, it was Sandra. Sandra had probably been filling her head full of lies trying to hurt her. That had to be the case.

Scott had come to this realization the night before sitting in the hostel's computer lab. He had sat down to look up what he and Emily could do in Berlin the next day. But, something internally drove him to check his e-mail. There, seeming to scowl at him off the screen was a message from Sandra entitled, "You Two Deserve Each Other," sent during the day from

"Scott,

If you hurt a hair on Emily's head, I'm going to kill you. The poor sweetheart must be stricken or something because against my better judgment and counseling she's gone to see you in Berlin.

I told her everything. I mean absolutely everything about you. You're not going to get away with your lies anymore.

I don't even know why I'm sending this to you since now you can keep playing your games with that girl's heart. And, she probably already told you what she did to me by the Seine. I still think she deserves whatever she gets. But, she still deserves a lot better than you.

Don't be playing any doctor with her.

Sandra

p.s. I didn't copy Emily on this. You're lucky this time."

After seeing Emily he had been content even though this was tempered with a worry about her mental condition. Once he read the message from Sandra, however, the contentedness had faded into the internal anger he had been feeling before he focused everything on this quest to reunite with Emily back in Warsaw.

His hand felt like they were drunkenly dancing off the keyboard. Each movement of his fingers felt heavy as he pounded the keys trying to get out as spite as possibly on Sandra.

"Sandra,

I don't know what kind of lies you've been spreading to Emily but I'm not the one with the truthfulness problem here.

She hasn't told me yet what happened next to the river but she has told me everything else. How could you have abandoned her like you did and let that happen to her? Were you too busy getting drunk and looking for guys to realize that you needed to stay by her?

I've seen the state she's in now and it's heart breaking. I'm going to do everything I can to try to help her recover. You let her get this way and you're a horrible person for letting her get to where she is.

I don't know exactly what game you're playing but it needs to stop, RIGHT NOW. Emily makes me happy and I make her happy and nothing you say or do, no matter what lies you try to spread about me is going to change that.

And that incident that you refer to. That happened when we were both eight. Stop trying to make me atone for past sins that I feel horrible about already.

Scott"

As he thought about the e-mail exchange now, all of the anger came back. He hadn't thought of this scenario before, but maybe Sandra did copy Emily on the e-mail she had sent him. Maybe Emily wasn't going to show up after all. Perhaps she was off wandering the city in a stupor right now - or worse. He hoped that wasn't the case but there was nothing he could do about it now but wait longer for Emily to show up. He took solace in the fact that if there was one thing he was sure of from the previous night's conversation it was that Emily did not believe anything that Sandra had told her - and she was in the right not to.

Scott checked his watch again right as it changed to 10:00 a.m. Another train announcement in German came over the overhead. He looked down at the other tracks again wondering anew if he needed to be on one of them instead.

Suddenly a voice interrupted him in German, "ich bin bedauernd aber sie haben zu fahren."

Scott looked up from his feet, where he had been staring and saw a woman wearing a tool belt over orange overalls.

"English?" he asked.

"Ja," she said, "I am sorry, but you must go. We are filming television program here and need this area."

"What?" Scott asked, now angry, "this is a public train station, you can't just tell me to leave."

"I am sorry sir, but did you not read, um hear, the announcement that was just made."

"I'm sorry too, I don't speak German."

The college aged woman, who seemed to be nothing more than an intern on the set said, "please sir, do not make me call security on you."

Another man, this one dressed in a button down pink shirt with leather pants and a light blue sweater wrapped around his waist came over to talk to the intern. They exchanged words in German for a few minutes. Scott did not try to interrupt them at all since he was buying himself more time. The intern seemed to be intently pointing at him and saying that he had to go. The man in the button down shirt was nodding, but never imitated her motions which seemed like a good sign. Finally, he turned to Scott and said, in English, "it seems as though we have a problem here."

"Yes, we have a problem here," Scott said, "I'm supposed to meet someone at this track and it's vitally important that I be here."

"Lars," the man stuck out his hand for a handshake, "my name is Lars."

Scott reluctantly matched his action.

"An American, yes?"

"Yes."

"Well, we may have a solution to our little impasse. I saw you over here getting angry at my poor staff person. And, you are perfect."

"Perfect for what?"

"Have you ever done any acting back in the United States?"

Scott wondered why that mattered but said, "well, a little. Back in high school I was in 'Death of a Salesman.'"

"Ah, very good play. But I mean any television or movies."

"No."

"Excellent so you are not a member of Screen Actor's Guild back in the United States?"

"No."

"Then we most certainly have a compromise. Here I present it. You agree to play walk-on role, free of payment, in television show we are shooting, and I have Misha here give message to who you are waiting for."

"What other choice do I have?" Scott asked.

"No other choice," Lars, who Scott now thought must be the casting director, said in a harsh voice that reminded Scott of a Nazi general in a World War II movie, "but to get off my set."

Scott quickly weighed his options. Misha pleaded with Lars in German but he just kept shaking his head and waving her off. At least if Scott agreed to do the television part, he would be allowed to stay on the track and look out for Emily. And it looked as though if Misha did not at least deliver the message, her days associated with the television show were numbered.

"I'll do it," Scott said, "how long is this going to take?"

"Excellent," Lars replied, "you will give message to Misha and come with me to make-up. You should not be more than a couple of hours."

Scott could almost see humor in this situation. He thought to himself of how much of a "poofer" the Aussies would think of him as if they knew he was putting on make-up in the middle of Berlin. He said to Misha, "she's a redhead about five feet tall and her name is Emily. If you see her, let her know to meet me in the lobby of the hostel at 2:00 p.m."

Misha shot him a look that and said she annoyed and said quietly, in English, "I'm getting pulled from doing my job to pass on that message? Not exactly a cure for world hunger." As the director turned away she shot him a look that was much worse because it said she thought he was crazy.

The director clasped Scott around the shoulder as he went to catch up with him. "This role is perfect for you," Lars joked, "you play angry American waiting for German train."

Scott rolled his eyes. Misha was right, this director was crazy.

Chapter Word Count: 2096
Daily Word Count: 2096
Total Word Count: 74211

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