Going Our Separate Ways

This is one story in a series of stories that tell about a backpack trip to Europe in the spring of 1976 by myself in an effort to run away from the pain of a broken heart. (To read from the beginning Google "The Ramblings of an Aging Baby Boomer" and go back to March 27th, "I'll Never Find Love Again.")

Monday, April 12, 1976,  (On train from Vienna to Salzburg)

I'm on the train to Salzburg, Austria. Willem and Charles are not with me. We are going our separate ways, and here is why.

When we arrived in Vienna yesterday, Willem's brother picked us up at the train station and drove us back to his apartment. It's a small apartment and he told us we were going to have to sleep on the floor. He didn't say it with any apology attached. It was just pointblank, "You're sleeping on the floor." I think if it were me and I had a small apartment and I had guests coming to stay with me, I might have been a wee bit apologetic, "I am so sorry, but all I can offer you is the floor." Something like that.

Willem and his brother--I'll call him Dick--had some catching up to do so Charles and I took a walk around the neighborhood and when we came back, Dick was upset that we were gone so long. He asked if we had given any thought to the fact that there might have been plans for us to leave for dinner 30 minutes before. Since we hadn't given any thought to that, we would now have to change restaurants, which meant driving farther away. I was just happy that we were driving because after weeks of walking everywhere, sitting while moving--no matter how far--was a luxury. As Charles and I were bickering playfully about which side of the backseat each of us preferred to sit, Dick lost patience and made the decision for us. "SHUT UP! AND GET IN THE CAR NOW!"

I have never met anyone like Willem's brother in my life. And I thought Willem was way too serious. During dinner, Dick and Willem did most of the talking, which was fine with me. God forbid I say something to get myself in trouble. OFF WITH HER HEAD!  As usual, Charles ate his meal, but not all of it. He pushed his plate toward me and I began to eat what he had left. That was a huge mistake. My eating out of Charles' plate was so appalling to Dick that he yelled, "ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?" And from that moment on, I went numb and mute. He said more but I can't tell you what. I was somewhere else. The world continued on around me but I was gone.

I told Willem last night after dinner that I was leaving. No way could I ever allow someone to treat with such disrespect, I told him. This morning as I was leaving the apartment, Dick said, "Was it something I said?" And he wasn't joking. He really was surprised that he had offended me.

Willem walked me to the station and several times he made attempts to change my mind: His brother is not so bad once you get to know him; could I hold on for just a few more days so all three of us could continue to travel together? and I shouldn't be traveling alone. It's just not safe. When nothing changed my mind, he finally just said, "Please don't go."

When someone gives me an insincere, halfhearted hug, I sometimes say, "Hug me like you mean it." When it was time for me to get on board, Willem hugged me like he meant it, but I didn't reciprocate. All I could think about was getting on that train. The thought of spending one more day with his brother made me pull away from his hug and run. When I reached the steps, and I knew the train wasn't leaving without me, I turned around to wave goodbye, but he was gone.