In Deutschland

Chapter I

            “Tag, Markus.” I say, walking past him. He was one of the first people I met when I moved into the city – I walked down to the shop he works at on my first night to grab some food, and he was the first person I found who could – or would, I’m not sure – speak English to me. If my German is bad now, it was really, really bad then.

            “Oh, Ethan!” He says, walking around to me. “What’s up, man?”

            “Not much.” I say, grabbing a Coke out of the fridge in the back and digging in my pocket for my wallet. “Some chick came up and started talking to me while I was over in the Gartens, but other than that, the same old stuff.”

            “Ein mädchen?” He asks, following me back to the front of the store.

            “Ja,” I reply, dropping a few Euro coins on the counter. The superiority of the Euro is probably one of the best parts of living in Germany. Instead of having to un-crinkle a few one dollar bills to pay for a two dollar thing, you can just pull out a two Euro coin. It’s amazing.

            “Was she cute?” He asks, popping the register and sticking the coins in it.

            “Ja, yeah,” I say, subconsciously mixing English and German again. “She was cool and stuff, but she was also kind of weird.” He looks up, interested. “She came up and asked me what I was writing, and we talked, and she gave me her number,” We do an obligatory high five at this statement, “and when I asked her why she started talking to me she said it was because ‘I looked interesting.’ Is it just me or is that kinda weird?”

            He nods, thinking over his answer. “Ja, it is kind of weird, but a supposedly cute mädchen gave you her phone number. I don’t know if you should not call her because her reason for talking to you was weird.”

            “Yeah, you’re probably right,” I say, grabbing the coke and opening it. “Well, man, I gotta run, but I’ll see ya around.”

            “Tschau!” He says, turning his attention back to the magazine.

            I take a long drink as I step out onto the street and walk the remaining block to my apartment. I climb the three flights of stairs and unlock the door, walk in, and toss my backpack onto the floor next to the door. I kick off my shoes and collapse onto the couch, closing my eyes and drifting off.

            I wake up a few hours later to the tail end of my phone going off. I grab it – Two messages, one from Markus and one from my friend back in the states, Julia. I call her first.

            “Ethan?” She says.

            “Yeah, what’s up?” I say, sitting up.

            “Have you seen the news at all lately?” She asks, and she sounds worried. Not overly worried, like she thought I was going to die in the near future, but there was that underlying tint of it in her voice, like she thought something bad-ish might happen.

            “Uh, nah, it’s almost midnight here.” I reply. She always forgets that there’s a decent time difference between us now. I think I’m six hours ahead of Norfolk, give or take.

            “Oh, yeah, sorry… did I wake you up?” That sense of concern was still there in her voice, just sitting back in the shadows.

            “No, no, you’re fine, but what would be on the news that I need to see?”

            “Well… If there’s still a news station on over there, they’ll probably be talking about it.”

            “Alright, I’ll check it out.” I say, and start to hang up. “Hey, are you alright?”

            “Huh? Oh, yeah, I’m fine.” She says. “It’s all good over here, man. Boring, like usual, but all good.”

            “Alright, well, I gotta get going, but call me soon, okay?”

            “Okay. See ya, Ethan.” She hangs up and I put my phone down, grabbing the remote and turn on the TV. I flip it to the closest BBC news station when my phone rings again – Markus.

            “Yeah, man, what’s up?” I say.

            “Scheiße, man, have you heard?” He asks, and an utmost sense of panic is present in his voice.

            “Heard what, man? Julie was just telling me something was going on-“ My voice trails off as I see the news on the TV screen. “Oh, shit.”

            “While no shots have actually been fired, hundreds, if not thousands, of French troops have been mobilized to Switzerland’s borders throughout the night. Swiss troops are scrambling to reinforce their Western border and we have rumors of Germany and Austria mobilizing forces. Whether this is to assist Switzerland or reinforce their own borders, we cannot say.” The reporter keeps talking about a bunch of political consequences of France’s troop movement, but I’m not listening.

            “Ja, ja, ich weiß… This could be bad, dude. When they get Schweiz – and they probably will, if they want to – they could just keep pushing East.” Markus says.

            “Man, it’s France. Why would they want to invade us?” I say, trying to calm him down.

            “I don’t know, man, but they obviously do!”

            “Listen, if they do try to, we could probably stop them on our own – but we’d have Britain and America on our side. It’ll be fine, just get some sleep, alright?”

            “Ja, alright, I’ll talk to you later.”

            I toss my phone back onto the couch and walk into the kitchen. France invading Switzerland? It doesn’t make sense. It is a little unnerving knowing there’s only one country standing between an army and yours, but hey, if France sets out for world conquest they won’t get far.

            I hope they won’t, at least. It would really suck to get killed by a French soldier.