Who Was That Lady?

Ich Möchte Kein Mann Sein

Hamburg, Germany

November 1, 1962

Paul stared up at the dingy sign that read Hotel Germania, Detlev-Bremer-Straße 8. He exchanged a doubtful glance with John. He turned his head to look over his shoulder at Ringo, the newest member of The Beatles, and Ringo gave him a reassuring nod toward the lobby. Paul shrugged and roughly grabbed the latch of the door.

Upon a quick scan of the hotel lobby, Paul was the first to detect a near-rotten wooden door behind the desk clerk. A faded brass plaque near its clouded, dusty window read: D e E ge tü er: followed by some unintelligible scrapes and scratches. 

Paul squinted at the engraving, and his lack of knowledge of the German language did not help to fill in the missing letters that had, over time, disappeared. He absentmindedly shifted his gaze and then looked back at his party and what little luggage they all carried. John approached him after joking around with an elderly lady shrouded in a threadbare shawl. 

"Vawt iz eet?" John asked, turning up his nose, eyes, and eyebrows in imitation of a long-forgotten Bram Stoker character and trying his best at mimicking a German accent. Paul snickered and rolled his eyes. 

"Oh, I dunno, ye think we should check in now?" Paul subtly indicated the front desk a couple meters away. 

John consented with a short, "If ye want."

"Come 'ed, you two!" Paul gestured for George and Ringo, who were avoiding conversation with each other and awkwardly shifting their weight, to come away from the door.

Last time they'd been in Hamburg, they had Pete. Since Best had been the most proficient in German, he had done most of the communicating with administration, but Paul, John, and George had picked up little to nothing from being with him. 

When Paul went up to the office desk, he didn't know what to say other than to attempt to explain, in English, that his group had been in Hamburg a couple months prior to perform and was back to play at the Star-Club. 

All at once, Neil Aspinall walked into the lobby. Paul turned his head and walked toward him as Neil addressed the band. 

"Bloody-" Paul began, irritated.

Neil waved his hand, dismissing him. He only trotted past Paul and up to the desk, saying something to the clerk that Paul couldn't make out. Paul shrugged and turned back to face John, George, and Ringo. 

"Better hope we don't get a room like we had with that string o' gigs at the Top-Ten," George complained, remembering the near-squalor they had endured. He raised his eyebrows and absentmindedly glared at John and Paul. Ringo looked around the unimpressive hotel blankly.

Moments later a small, sharp ding sounded and Neil returned to them, clearly with useful information he wasn't about to share with them. He smirked and held out his hand mockingly toward the staircase. A clerk came rushing after them as the five men made their way onto the first landing. 

"Herr Aspinall, kommen Sie bitte schnell!" the desk clerk called with a harsh German accent. Aspinall motioned for the boys to keep ascending the stairs and held back to speak with the clerk.

"Ja, was ist es?"

Ringo listened intently after he had momentarily set down his single rugged suitcase on the stair above him. He was the last to ascend the stairs but even he didn't distinguish between any of the resulting conversation of the lobby man and Neil. Ringo didn't think much of it: he just shook his head and ran the remainder of the lightly-carpeted stairs to catch up with the rest of his new band. 

"So which room's mine? Where should I sleep?" Ringo asked, his bright blue eyes searching the haunting German Expressionist paintings for an answer. Seven years later, an ocean away, the same phenomenon would play out in the mind of up-and-coming horror novelist in the image of a reaper. John simply laughed at Ringo's naivety. 

"Soft lad, you'll just sleep where we tell ya," John replied snarkily. Paul tilted his head, silently reprimanding John for not explaining to Ringo they never got their own rooms. 

The tension that rooted John and Ringo to matters at hand did not ground Paul: somehow, and he was not new to such sudden intuitions, this trip to Hamburg had anders written in the stars of the illustrious, menacing sky that enveloped the entirety of Germany.

Author's Note:

Anyone catch the Stephen King reference in there? ;)