that he was leaving. He changed clothes and left the bloody ones where the police would find them. Viktor left Dresden forever. He would never see his mother or brother or sister again. Instead of suffering with broken arms and legs, he was going to have to live the rest of his life with a broken heart. He would have to know that the thirteen-year-old kid inside had become a killer, justified or not.
At that moment, Viktor simply ceased to exist. He hitched a ride on a freight train and decided his new identity would be Oberon, just because he liked the sound of the name. It was a good German name, and I don’t think he knew it was also one of the lead characters in Shakespeare’s Midsummer Night’s Dream . All he had was a new name, one change of clothes, a picture of his mother, and a mind full of the most awful memories any child can be asked to carry. He knew that he was a murderer and that he could never see the family he loved.
Somewhere in Bavaria, he jumped off the train. Menz found him walking through the woods on his estate and took Oberon in. Menz never demanded an explanation. I think he refused sex when Oberon offered it. Menz just made sure he was well-fed and offered him a job. Oberon joined the human staff at Menz’s Bavarian estate as a groundskeeper. When he was older, Oberon became a blood donor. Menz offered him free schooling, like he did all the blood donors. Menz had papers drawn up to match Oberon’s identity, but I think I’m the only one who knows his real name and the reason Viktor had to disappear. The papers were forgeries, but they would pass the closest official scrutiny. Menz had his methods.
There’s no statute of limitations for murder, but he could go public today. He could go on TV and tell the world. Nobody would believe that it happened in 1928 or that he is now a hundred years old. The story might get him locked up for being crazy, but not for killing Daddy.
Oberon studied engineering in college, and he was an okay student. When the First World War broke out, Menz let Oberon stay at the estate. The teenager went into hiding because he didn’t want to fight. Oberon hates to fight, and he almost never gets angry. He is one of the most even-tempered humans or vampires I’ve known, and he is so quiet and smooth.
I always wonder if his demeanor is genetic or because he still keeps himself boxed up after being beaten so relentlessly as a child. He never wanted to talk about it. It took me fifty years to get him to open up as much as he did. I never pushed too hard. Of course I wanted to know, but I respected it as a sensitive topic. There were facts about his childhood that I just didn’t need to know. There are still holes in what I know about his childhood, and I accept that. I didn’t need to open all those old wounds. If he ever wants to talk, he knows I will be a good listener.
I wondered if there was some sexual abuse from his father or brother, but he never wanted to talk about it. I didn’t push the issue. When he is ready to tell me, I will be there to listen.
After he told me the story, he reached for my hand and squeezed it. He stared at the ground while holding my hand. What was going on inside that head? It can’t be healthy to internalize so much pain, but he never showed so much as a second of anger toward his father or his life on the run.
During World War II, I know that Oberon always watched for news about Dresden. He saw his older brother’s name on a list of those killed near Stalingrad, and his only reaction was a single nod of his head: no love between those two. Oberon wasn’t pleased that his brother had been killed, but he accepted the news with more calmness than I could imagine. One nod of the head, and the chapter on his older brother was closed. The brother who rejected him as a kid was dead.
He feared the Allies would bomb Dresden or that the Russians would overrun the city, and he was always pleased when there was no news. Dresden was
At that moment, Viktor simply ceased to exist. He hitched a ride on a freight train and decided his new identity would be Oberon, just because he liked the sound of the name. It was a good German name, and I don’t think he knew it was also one of the lead characters in Shakespeare’s Midsummer Night’s Dream . All he had was a new name, one change of clothes, a picture of his mother, and a mind full of the most awful memories any child can be asked to carry. He knew that he was a murderer and that he could never see the family he loved.
Somewhere in Bavaria, he jumped off the train. Menz found him walking through the woods on his estate and took Oberon in. Menz never demanded an explanation. I think he refused sex when Oberon offered it. Menz just made sure he was well-fed and offered him a job. Oberon joined the human staff at Menz’s Bavarian estate as a groundskeeper. When he was older, Oberon became a blood donor. Menz offered him free schooling, like he did all the blood donors. Menz had papers drawn up to match Oberon’s identity, but I think I’m the only one who knows his real name and the reason Viktor had to disappear. The papers were forgeries, but they would pass the closest official scrutiny. Menz had his methods.
There’s no statute of limitations for murder, but he could go public today. He could go on TV and tell the world. Nobody would believe that it happened in 1928 or that he is now a hundred years old. The story might get him locked up for being crazy, but not for killing Daddy.
Oberon studied engineering in college, and he was an okay student. When the First World War broke out, Menz let Oberon stay at the estate. The teenager went into hiding because he didn’t want to fight. Oberon hates to fight, and he almost never gets angry. He is one of the most even-tempered humans or vampires I’ve known, and he is so quiet and smooth.
I always wonder if his demeanor is genetic or because he still keeps himself boxed up after being beaten so relentlessly as a child. He never wanted to talk about it. It took me fifty years to get him to open up as much as he did. I never pushed too hard. Of course I wanted to know, but I respected it as a sensitive topic. There were facts about his childhood that I just didn’t need to know. There are still holes in what I know about his childhood, and I accept that. I didn’t need to open all those old wounds. If he ever wants to talk, he knows I will be a good listener.
I wondered if there was some sexual abuse from his father or brother, but he never wanted to talk about it. I didn’t push the issue. When he is ready to tell me, I will be there to listen.
After he told me the story, he reached for my hand and squeezed it. He stared at the ground while holding my hand. What was going on inside that head? It can’t be healthy to internalize so much pain, but he never showed so much as a second of anger toward his father or his life on the run.
During World War II, I know that Oberon always watched for news about Dresden. He saw his older brother’s name on a list of those killed near Stalingrad, and his only reaction was a single nod of his head: no love between those two. Oberon wasn’t pleased that his brother had been killed, but he accepted the news with more calmness than I could imagine. One nod of the head, and the chapter on his older brother was closed. The brother who rejected him as a kid was dead.
He feared the Allies would bomb Dresden or that the Russians would overrun the city, and he was always pleased when there was no news. Dresden was
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