Battle of the Rhine

Quincy moved back to the third floor, sending Michael's mood into a clouded low in the week leading up to the Christmas holidays.The fish steak in the cafeteria was unpalatable. He would rather hide in the office, eat bacon sandwiches and drink cold water.

"Are you all right?" Mr. Franz was a red-faced man, very talkative, unlike most Germans. "You look worried."

"Really?" Michael touched his chest, "You're right, I'm in trouble."

"Was it the 'Munich Student'?"

"That's right—"

The Germans in the factory joked about the "Munich students".There were not many girls going to university, but Michael gradually realized that the University of Munich is very good, at least much better than his alma mater.Such a good girl who graduated from college has no need to marry a man from a small place in the United States—especially now that the life of the Germans has begun to return to the level before the war, and it is said that they are more comfortable than the British!

Mr. Franz vaguely mentioned several times, "She should see her diploma." Michael was not interested in Quincy's diploma, but if there was a graduation photo, he would like to see it. "Have you quarreled with her?" asked Mr. Franz. "I see you are frowning."

"Well," Michael sighed, "I don't understand...why."

"That's the way pretty girls are," said Mr. Franz. "The prettier the flower, the tougher the thorn."

Although Mr. Franz thought that Michael had been cheated, he felt that the "big one" was definitely a beauty.When Charlie came, Michael had to tell a half-lie in order to clarify: the lake fairy was his sister, and his Munich student was the oldest in the family.After that, Quincy would have such a code name, thank God he would never know, otherwise Michael would not be able to imagine what would happen, anyway, he must not be able to bear it.

"I mentioned my friend," Michael scratched his hair, "just one, I swear."

"Why do you mention your friend?"

"Just chatting..."

"Pretty girls need more attention. Why don't you take the initiative to apologize, treat her to dinner, send her flowers, watch a movie..."

If dinner, flowers, and a movie would bring Quincy back to the second floor, Michael would have emptied his wallet.He thought hard, and finally came up with an idea.He immediately put it into practice, but it is a pity that this Christmas gift was exposed early.

As Christmas approaches, the atmosphere at work is much more relaxed.Michael had taken leave of absence—he had been taking leave of absence a lot during this period, and he had long since given up hope of getting a bonus.At noon, he had a quick lunch and went to pick up the piano repairman.It was an old man with all white hair. From his eyes, Michael deeply suspected that he had participated in the First World War.

"You have to make an appointment two weeks in advance," said the old man.

"Yes, yes, I understand, I'm sorry." Michael opened the door and lifted the thick cloth covering the grand piano, "This piano has no sound."

"It's a good piano." The repairman checked it out, "There's nothing wrong with it."

"Then please... let it make some movement."

The maintenance man rolled his eyes and gave Michael a blank look.He fiddled with the piano silently, and somehow, when the keys of the piano were pressed down, it could make a tinkling sound.Michael paid readily, with a generous tip.Then he asked a pretty stupid question, "Can you play 'Little Twinkle Star'?"

"what is that?"

"That's right," Michael gestured vigorously, "Dengdeng-deng-deng-deng-deng-deng, that's about it. Children like to sing. I haven't learned how to sing in German..."

The old man pressed a certain key with one finger and made a "dang" sound.Then he pressed again, and Michael exclaimed excitedly, "That's it!"

"Put your hand here, press down, then press here..."

This was the first time in Michael's life that he touched the piano.He sat on the piano bench and played with one finger—if it could be called "playing"—"Twinkle...twinkle...and then? The sky is...no, the sky is... ..."

Playing the piano is so much fun!There was an old organ in Michael's town church, and Grandma Michael said it had been so old since she was a little girl.There used to be a pastor who could play the piano. After he got a job in the parish in the city and left, the organ was neglected and the lid was covered with dust.

"twinkle Twinkle Little Star……"

"what are you doing?"

"The sky is full of... ah!"

Michael turned his head in horror. Although the fire in the fireplace was burning, he felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.Quincy, wearing a black pea coat and hat in hand, said, "You're playing the wrong ball."

"Not working overtime today?"

"Christmas is coming soon."

Quincy walked up to the piano, and Michael hastily stepped aside from the piano bench.He stood up too hastily, hit his knee, and gasped in pain. "Sit down," said Quincy, holding him down. "Do you want to play? I'll teach you. Wrist, like this, fingers—"

"I don't want to play the piano." Michael covered his knees, Quincy raised his wrist so gracefully, and now he wanted to give a passionate kiss to the small bone protruding from his wrist, "I want to see you play the piano..."

"Then what do you want to hear?" Quincy glanced at Michael, "First of all, I can't play your American songs, and I can't sing them without score."

"Play what you like," said Michael enthusiastically. "Play what you like best."

Quincy played a piece that Michael seemed to have heard, but he wasn't sure, there was only one German musician he knew, Beethoven who was deaf and could play, it was incredible.The melody of this piece is soothing, and Michael thinks it should not be Beethoven's work. "Great!" He clapped his hands. "You play so well! Ah, I feel like I'm at a concert."

"Nonsense," said Quincy, "but thank you for fixing the piano. Since Emma died..."

He stroked the piano like an old friend, "Thank you, Mike, I thought this piano would never make a sound."

"Then are you still angry with me?" Michael asked, feeling a little uncomfortable.Emma, ​​Emma, ​​always Emma.No way, who made Emma the one who lived in the house first? "Are we all right?"

"I'm not mad at you," Quincy said flatly.

At night, Quincy returned to the second floor.Michael put his arm around Quincy's bare shoulders, kissed it lightly a few times, and felt that the world was finally back on track.