Watermelon Syrup: A Novel

twenty-eight

twenty-eight Three days later she walked into the garage to take the car out for the first time since she’d returned to Waterloo. She went straight to the car door, unable to look at the corner in the garage where Dr. Oliver had once kissed her. Her hands shook as she inserted the key into the ignition. She took a mighty breath. Her chest was caving in. Her foot barely touched the gas pedal and the car crawled backwards out of the garage. Aunt Louise had taken Cammy and the children for a picnic and Cammy had given her a list of groceries to pick up while they were gone. But she drove past the grocery store, going west on King Street, until the houses ended and she saw a small field.Across the field was the red brick building that Georgie had described. She drove along the narrow road to the front door of the building and parked the car. There were a couple of other smaller brick buildings nearby and several young people with books in their arms walked between them. The large wooden door loomed above her. Should she knock? Should she walk straight in? She stood there a few moments, thinking that this was a silly idea after all and that she should just go back and do the shopping, when a young man came out. He was short, plump and dressed in a rumpled white shirt and baggy tweed trousers. His wide-eyed smile made her realize that she was too dressed up. She’d worn one of Cammy’s nicest dresses, a dark blue crepe with a white lace collar. “Can I help you?” he asked, smiling broadly. “No. Ja. I mean…I’m looking for someone. I wasn’t sure if I should knock.” The young man laughed. “Well, you can come into the first floor, it’s only the library and the classrooms.” “Oh, I…” “Who’re you looking for? I know just about everybody here.” “Ted Bauer. He’s just starting…” “Sure. I know Ted. Just ran into him upstairs, as a matter of fact. Come on in. I’ll get him for you.” 244 Annie Jacobsen jacobsen_text 8/27/07 10:06 Page 244 He turned and opened the door, held it for her and motioned for her to go in. The building smelled of chalk and musty books. The wood-panelled hallway, on which hung a dozen pictures of severelooking men in black with white clerical collars, led to a large reading room with cracked brown leather couches and armchairs. The walls were covered with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, and long narrow windows across one end of the room let in a little of the bright day, even though she could see that the room lived in an atmosphere of permanent dimness. There was another hallway across from the entrance and at the end of it an elderly woman sat at a large desk entirely filled with wooden file boxes, her head bent down in concentration. “Just wait here. This is our reception room, the cleanest room in the building.” He laughed again. “You wouldn’t believe the mess the fellows live in upstairs.” She smiled. He was so obviously enjoying his role as a student. “I’m Aleksandra,” she said. “You could tell Ted that the girl from the train is here.” “Sure.” He held out his hand. “Lloyd Shouldice. Pleased to meet you, Aleksandra. I’ll sniff Ted out in a jiffy. Have a seat.” Lexi moved towards one of the couches but didn’t sit down. She walked over to the bookcases.There was a whole wall of the works of Martin Luther, volumes of all sizes bound in black, maroon and green leather. Other bookshelves contained commentaries on Luther and the Gospels and books of sermons. But at the bottom of one bookcase there was a small ragtag collection of paperback editions of William Makepeace Thackeray, Emily Brontë and Charles Dickens beside collections of poems by Tennyson,Thomas Grey and William Cowper. She was surprised. Surely, there would be no novels in a Mennonite Bible School, they were far too worldly. But, poetry, yes. She had studied Schiller and Heine and Goethe in German class, on Saturdays in Millheim. “Aleksandra.” Ted strode towards her, one hand out, the other adjusting his glasses. “You look so different.” He glanced at Lloyd, who was right behind him, but Lloyd made no move to leave. She...