Vienna Story

"I would also venture," said Eli, "to say he would find a young lady brought up in privilege, but who understands all too painfully the limits of that privilege. Hurt and disillusioned in love, she...finds it difficult to form realistic hopes, especially in light of her parents' example."

Eli left off, and returned the long, unreadable look Hilda gave him. She kept silent as she gazed at Eli, who sensed an effort involved in keeping that silence.

She lifted her chin and said, "How do you know I was hurt and disillusioned in love?"

Eli cocked his head briefly to one side. "What woman hasn't been?" he said. "And you did mention your marriage and widowhood."

"True, I did," she said. Looking down, she added, "And I forgive you, Herr Jansen, for plumbing the depths of my soul, for cutting me open and dissecting me so skillfully. I feel like a butterfly in a collection of specimens."

Eli said, "I -- I had no idea of turning you into a laboratory specimen, dear fraulein, I meant no such disrespect. I find you a deep and interesting person, one who, instinct tells me, is heard little and understood less. I...I would know you better." Eli had a hard time believing what he'd just said to this heavyset, prickly, scowling woman. Sometimes, moved by a mysterious instinct for gallant behavior around women, he produced some astonishing statements.

"Oh!" Hilda exclaimed. Her eyes shone in his; she reached and held his hand. She looked down and murmured, "Kind sir."

She stroked his hand once or twice -- hers was soft and warm. She raised her shining eyes to his and said, "Herr Jansen, would it be too much for me to presume upon more of your evening? It isn't too terribly late, and I am in no humor to send you away."

Subtly Eli breathed in, and then out. "Clearly I have no other engagements," Eli said, "and am at your mercy as to a means to get home this evening." As he said this, he smiled to hide his impatience to get home and be alone for a time. Again, these unintended and damnably amiable manners!

"So you are!" said Hilda in a fiendish tone. Though she hesitated: "...but honestly, only if you're certain. Otherwise..."

But Eli had spoken. He said, "No, no." He stood, offering Hilda his arm. "Shall we repair to the sitting room?" She smiled and took his arm.

Each now supplied with a snifter of brandy, Hilda firmly guided Eli to the loveseat, and joined him there. They spoke of Sophie; Hilda was steadfast in her opinion that Eli should rest his mind and heart. Of his position at the law firm Hilda felt she had even more reason to be impressed with Eli. After an amiable three quarters of an hour, however, Eli felt a sudden worry. "Hilda," he said, "I'm afraid I will remember with shame certain impertinent and far too familiar remarks I made tonight."

Following his lead she addressed by his given name. "Eli," she said, placing a hand on his arm, "trouble your mind not a minute longer, I forbid it. Your observations showed you to have an unusual combination of understanding and sympathy. I found them...piercing, yes, but clever, and quite engrossing, frankly. I felt perhaps too well understood all at once. But overall the impression you have made has been quite amiable, I assure you." She gazed warmly into his eyes and suddenly kissed his cheek.

Taken aback, Eli rapidly thought of all the possible traps and snares he now faced.

"Oh, don't look so shocked, dear Eli," Hilda said. "A light peck on the cheek in a tender moment hurts no one. And can become over time a most treasured memory, don't you find?" She looked coyly at him.

Eli looked with growing consternation into this creature's smiling and insinuating eyes.

"So tell me," she asked, "when do you leave for Croatia?"

Surprised and a bit relieved at her change of subject, Eli said, "I'm planning to leave Friday on the mid-afternoon Südbahn train for Trieste and then on to Rijeka." He wished he were on the train already. He would be happy to be away from Sophie for perhaps a week. He wanted to sort out his thoughts, and calm down his feelings. And new instincts were telling him that leaving Hilda behind in Vienna would also benefit him greatly.

"From then," she said, "I will impatiently anticipate our next meeting. I find I have been quite stimulated this evening." Again she bestowed her smile on him, its less-than-thrilled recipient.

"The honorable fraulein flatters me yet again," Eli said. "Your hospitality has been so charming, dear fraulein, but I fear I should take my leave."

She held his eyes a moment longer. "Very well," she said. "Perhaps it would be best." She stood and Eli rose next to her.

She took his arm as they left through the carriageway entrance. "Herr Jansen," she said, "Eli, I am so pleased to make your acquaintance, and now all my mother's agitation and nerves make perfect sense. I actually feel I know her a little better this evening, and, heaven help me, I feel some sympathy for her." Beneath the trees, they slowly crossed the gravel toward her carriage. The dusk was soft, lovely.

As they stopped next to the brougham, Eli faced her and held both her hands. "And I shall remember this evening," Eli said, "for a long time."

He was about to thank her when she interrupted him. She said, "Oh! I'm touched!" and pulled him against her body and held him for several long moments. She put a hand to the back of his head and brought him into a quick kiss on the lips. Still holding him, she said, "Oh, forgive a woman her improprieties, dear Eli. I feel a connection with you now, and could not help myself."

Eli finally wrapped his arms around her, eliciting a contented sigh. The kiss struck him as the last straw--he just wanted to get out of this hug and get home. "There is nothing to forgive, dear fraulein...and thank you for your hospitality and scintillating company. And your help in understanding...my situation."

Still she held him and smiled up into his face. At that moment lantern light lit them up as another carriage noisily entered the drive. As they disjoined they looked to see the lantern flames dancing as the carriage slowed to a stop. Shoulder to shoulder they watched as the driver opened the door and helped a lady alight.

"Oh, my," the new arrival called. "Please forgive the lateness of the hour!" An agitated rotund woman with fair hair approached them. "My dear Hilda, I am so very sorry for this intrusion...Frau Huber said you had a guest and that your mother had already quit your home. And I thought at this hour, how is her guest to get home?"

She stood before them, winded, expectant, and staring at Eli.

Expertly hiding her annoyance, Hilda said, "My gracious lady, please allow me the pleasure of presenting Eli Jansen, Esquire, of the Hoffmann law firm of Vienna. Eli, I have the honor of introducing you to Maria Baroness Reider."

He covered his shock well. He held her hand and performed his graceful bow. He murmured, "Gracious Lady. An honor."

"Herr Jansen," the Baroness said, "I am so very pleased to make your acquaintance." She turned to Hilda and said, "Dear Hilda, I have just come from Reverend Eder's meeting, and it seems the BCRA has immediate and dire need."

"Surely," Hilda said, "this news could have awaited a more convenient hour?"

"Well," the Baroness said, "perhaps. But honestly, I wanted to deliver the news in person, and...well, the meeting at the rectory was interminable, and when it let out at long last, I thought it worth the gamble to come over and see if I could be of service."

"I wonder," Hilda said, "whatever could you mean, what kind of service?"

"Why, at the least," the Baroness said, "a convenient conveyance home for your guest!" She looked at Eli, and to Hilda she said, "You could tell your manservant that his services will not be required and that he could retire without the bother of driving out tonight. And Herr Jansen could have company returning home after his visit."

"You hurried your carriage here," Eli said in wonder, "to possibly serve as livery for someone you never met? That is most curious."

"Sir," Maria said as Hilda walked off the give instruction to her servant, "you may indeed wonder at a woman's flighty whims, but I assure you, I have been a most solicitous and steady friend to Fraulein Hilda for many years. It is my regular and consistent wish to relieve her of burdens and obstructions." She leaned closer to add privately, "You seem to be well on your way to relieving Hilda of a burden or two, I must say!"

Hilda returned before Eli could protest; Maria backed up a step. "Your kind offer notwithstanding," Hilda said, "there is no reason to prolong your man's day, and I'm sure you must be fatigued as well, dear Maria. No, Herr Jansen is in my care. Hans?" She called to her servant, who climbed into the driver's seat.

Maria extended her hand to Eli. She said, "I may be fatigued, but Fraulein Hilda knows well how a compelling young man reinvigorates me, Herr Jansen. Ah, well! Some other time, perhaps."

If he knew how soon "some other time" would arrive, Eli might not have left Hilda's home with so light a step.

But finally alone in the carriage he felt a great relief. He shook his head each time he thought about either Hilda or her mother, or, now, Hilda's friend Maria. How women had such energy for intrigues!

Friday afternoon he descended from the cab at the Südbahn station and gave specifics to the porter about his trunk. He carried his leather brief case with its soft sides and its two buckled straps. Walking quickly through the station, Eli once again felt the paradox of travel: how he felt so singular and private amidst the great public throng. He found his track number, boarded the passenger car and found a spot for himself. With its ranks of low-back leather seats, the car had high windows and a couple of glass partitions situated at consistent points through the car. This combination gave the car an airy, open feel. The leg to Trieste would take close to ten hours, an excellent time to review the background he'd assembled on the facilities at Rijeka.

He'd settled himself and began idly to look out at the station and the other passengers who boarded his car. It filled rapidly, promising to be quite full by departure time. Eli began to rue his decision to leave Vienna on a Friday evening. Into the space next to him, a beefy man begged pardon and planted himself. The bulk of his briefcase corresponded to the man's imposing girth. A moment after the man positioned himself, catching his breath and wheezing slightly, he finally seemed settled. After a few moments, Eli thought, 'Are you going to beg pardon for the steady noise of your breathing, too?'

About fifteen minutes before departure a porter entered the car and started down the aisle. "Jansen?" he called. "Herr Elias Jansen? Note for Herr Jansen!" Eli stood and raised his hand.

"Hello!" he said. "I'm Jansen."

"Ah," the porter said, all respect and decorum. "Good evening to you, sir!"

"Good evening," Eli replied.

"I have a request from a private party for you to accompany me, sir, if you please."

"I can't leave the train," Eli said. "I have made arrangements at my destination."

"Oh, there's no thought of leaving the train, sir," the porter said. "The party is already aboard and wishes to make connection." He waited patiently in the aisle.

Frowning, Eli grabbed his coat and brief case, and edged past the burly gentleman and followed the porter. They passed through another car like the one Eli had picked, and then a baggage car. The dining car was next, and finally they entered a sleeper car. It was one of the premier series of sleepers, with private salon-type accommodations at the fore and aft ends. The aft salon forced an abrupt left turn into a narrow corridor as they entered the car, and once you were past the enclosed salon room, the car had on either side of the central aisle five or six facing bench pairs, each separated from the ones fore and aft by an ornate wood partition. The upholstery was luxurious velour and the wood paneling with mother of pearl inlays lent an exclusive, privileged atmosphere. The ceiling above each bench pair slanted up to the top of the car; Eli knew these to be fold-down berths, and the facing benches could be assembled into beds. The porter led him up the aisle to the private salon compartment at the forward end; he knocked, and a woman's voice came from within, "Come!"

The porter opened the door and Eli found Hilda standing in the salon, smiling at him. He gaped at her.

After a pause she said, "Well, don't just stand there, silly!" She guided him inside by the elbow. Immediately on the right there was a sofa perhaps six feet long, facing the windows opposite. Each window had its vis-à-vis bench seat, as in the rest of the car. Behind the forward-facing bench was a small closet with wash basins. Hilda stepped past Eli to thank and tip the porter and close and lock the door. She threw her arms around Eli and held him. After releasing him she said, "Isn't this nice?" indicating their space. "I have reserved the salon through to Rijeka."

He simply stared at her.

"I know you must be surprised, Eli," she said. "I will explain how I came to be here on the train." She sat on one of the benches by the window and looked up at him. He glowered at her, gobsmacked at her effrontery and starting to grieve for the loveliness of his planned solitude. "Please, Eli," she patted the bench across from her. "Please relax, as I have much to tell." Her smile never left her face, and he sensed she expected him to be thrilled that of all things, here she was.

He thought of the passenger car where he'd left the wheezing heavyset stranger. He placed his coat and brief case on the bench opposite Hilda, whose smile grew.

"Very well," she started, "mother and I discussed you at great length yesterday. I questioned her decision about measuring your loyalty to her and about her not trusting you. I told her you love her, and that you said some very sweet things before she left my home. She was softening, I could tell. She misses you fiercely, by God!"

Eli found her presence on the train highly objectionable, and not a little underhanded. However, he did have some curiosity about what Hilda might have said to her mother, and whether her presence here even met with Sophie's approval.

"At length I told her," Hilda said, "that if she wanted someone she could trust to monitor your activities, who better than her daughter? I could write in detail of your behavior and activities, relieving all her doubts about your loyal, devoted heart." Now her smile grew even grander; her own deviousness impressed her. She was excited to tell about it.

"I anticipated," Hilda went on, "that my mother might concern herself not so much with your behavior as with mine, but I was entirely mistaken. She imagines your conscience wrestling with your attraction to other, younger women, but never once did it enter her mind that I might so much as catch your eye. Isn't that precious? Now," she said, holding up a hand in caution, "I know that the prospect of an affaire de coeur with me is quite new and novel, but our history together has only just begun, although our foundation is strong...Oh, Eli, I'm just so excited for our journey! It's going to be delightful."

She beamed at him and leaned quickly forward. "We can draft our reports back to my mother, while enjoying each other's company. I mean, you did say you wanted to know me better." She tittered as though it were a great joke.

Eli stared. He took a deep breath or two, trying to calm his stomach. Before he could say anything, Hilda handed him a small envelope with his name on it. It was written by Sophie, certainly. He recognized her hand.

After she gave him the note, she left the salon so he could read it in solitude. He broke the seal and opened it.

My dear Eli, If you have this note, it means Hilda has found you and told you our plan. Since I could obviously not be gone from Vienna without an explanation, she offered her idea as a palliative to my unsettled mind where you are concerned, and reasonably proposes that it could be substituted for any 'monitoring period' I felt might have been appropriate. She has promised frequent reports of your tour, of sights seen, of places visited, etc. etc. If you find her company irksome at times, I pray you would work to calm your humor, to treat her well and amiably, and to the extent the demands of your business allow it, please try your best not to prejudice her good opinion of you. I would not want her correspondence to me to be colored with anything but open honesty and good cheer. Your observance of this request, and of suffering Hilda to accompany you to the extent your business allows, will only raise my already high opinion of you, dear Eli, and strengthen my fervent desire to continue our friendship. --Love, your Sophie

As infuriating as Sophie's behavior was, Eli had always in the back of his mind the overarching directive: Do not alienate her! However, he was beginning to entertain the counterbalancing thought: I won't always need her in my career!

He was gazing out the window when Hilda came back into the room and looked at him. He handed the note to her. She read it with a growing smile; she refolded it and handed it back to him.

She sat down across from him and positively beamed. "You see, Eli?" she said, "it's perfect! I will write my glowing reports back to her, she will not put you on any ridiculous probation, and we..." She crossed over and taking his arm, snuggled her hefty body up close to him, her head on his shoulder. "...we may behave in any way we please!"

He shifted the tiniest bit away from her, really only sat up a little straighter, a little stiffer.

"Oh, Eli," she sighed theatrically. "It's just so perfect, isn't it?"

Eli freed himself from Hilda's clutches and stood. "Hilda," he said, "when I said I wanted to know you better, I meant as an acquaintance, and out of respect for your mother. I --" He sighed quietly and turned to look out at the metal and stone structure of the Südbahn station. It suggested no solutions.

"Eli darling," Hilda said, "I'm perfectly aware of the honorable sentiment of your kind statement. But those sentiments need hardly preclude a deeper friendship. Indeed, I always understood it to be your desire toward me, that we would become far better acquainted. Oh, my Eli, after our visit at my home, my heart has been soaring in anticipation, and immediately the perfect opportunity presents itself...we can make my periodic reports back to my mother a mutually beneficial occupation, even enjoy writing them..." Then she said darkly, "I would not want it to deteriorate into something adversarial."

She looked up at him, waiting.

Seeing there was nothing for it, at least for the time being, Eli heaved an inward sigh, and looked at Hilda. She leapt to her feet, and letting out a little squeal, she tilted his face to hers and kissed him, a ravishment of his mouth. Surrendering to her mouth as it were, he recalled how petulant and scornful it had been at her home.

She held him tight, gluing her lips to his. At this moment the train's whistle blew a high, shrill note; her continual kisses became more demanding even while her breath became more rapid. They felt the train lurch into motion.

She disjoined, breathless. "Oh, Eli," she said, "please help me out of my gown and undergarments." She unknotted his necktie and began to undo his collar and shirt buttons.

In a daze Eli started perfunctorily on the buttons of her gown, but said, "Hilda, we will shed our garments more quickly if we each attend to our own."

Eli saw during Hilda's frantic disrobing, her broad girth. When she was upright, a heavy apron of flab hung low enough to obscure her privates. Her upper arms were massive, out of proportion to her forearms, and her thighs were dimpled and shook in her excitement. For a woman with bountiful flesh, her breasts were small and lay nearly flat against her chest. Hilda was so intent on him that as soon as their garments were gone she held his body against her; she crowded him with her breathless, lurching kisses and her hands gripped and grasped at his arms, his shoulders, his neck. She pressed against him, pushing into him until he fell back, sitting down suddenly on the sofa.