Meike Schrut

Broken dreams 17 or

“Though a person dies, but...”

In this history it is not thus like in the true life. Mariannes dreams have not broken also completely, there is small Henry, the name whom only Ralph had selected. A sweet boy with the blue eyes of his father. Why this preliminary remark is further written now in the present: it is the present in 2024, because the months have passed by like in the flight, it seems as if the time on the luxury island stopped. (Scenes are cancelled for next ones, there is an experiment and should remain it also future) And in certain manner she does it also, for RF and Ralph, only that both men do not pay attention to it.

“The everlasting narrator”, as one will call him here, is not only the enlarged ear, the thought, the eye and even more of that what puts out the real narrator. The everlasting narrator may walk around in an imagination world - invisibly - but it does not lie in his power to foresee what will happen. And thus it is released to the invisible narrator for some time, because it reads maybe better if stands there: (now again in the past, because clearly: it has happened at that moment and in a mess one should also not come)


Ralph did not know any more whether one or two weeks had gone to the country after the death of Marianne. He was indeed that it could not be any more. Quite bit by bit something made him go to the nurse and see after his child who lay in an unusually nice cradle, a king's son appropriately. He declined when the child minder wanted to bow to him, Sgrumie had said her that she should meet him with so much respect as to her would be possible. Tiredness still tormented him, because at night he found long no sleep and in the late morning he did not come fast enough from the feathers to sit with the other at the table and to have breakfast.
Close beside the cradle he sat down and turned the leaves only at random, nevertheless searching through a book what had left the nurse. Why he did not have to go. For the first time since long time he smiled, because somebody had stated, his voice is not powerful enough, just now she should be only quiet and be melodious hopefully. Few minutes he decreased of the window to the chair, drove himself through the hair, sat down, finally, again to sing warily. He paid attention to the fact that he cannot be thrilled and was expressed to, was occupied so with the fact that he did not get how after a while the door opened and leant against Madleine surprised near the door to the wall, enchants by the plaintive sound of the male voice which floated only only shaking and very sadly, then only quietly and gracefully, - as a voice had never seemed to her - through the space and this room was not quite small.

Schlafe, mein Prinzchen, schlaf ein!
Es ruh’n Schäfchen und Vögelein.
Garten und Wiese verstummt,
Auch nicht ein Bienchen mehr summt.
Luna mit silbernem Schein
Gucket zum Fenster herein.
Schlafe beim silbernem Schein,
Schlafe, mein Prinzchen, schlaf ein,
Schlaf ein, schlaf ein!„

Alles im Schlosse schon liegt
Alles in Schlummer gewiegt;
Reget kein Mäuschen sich mehr
Keller und Küche sind leer
Nur in der Zofe Gemach
Tönet ein schmachtendes Ach
Was für ein Ach mag dies sein?
Schlafe, mein Prinzchen, schlaf ein
Schlaf ein, schlaf ein.

Wer ist beglückter als Du?
Nichts als Vergnügen und Ruh.
Spielwerk und Zucker vollauf,
Und noch Karossen im Lauf.
Alles besorgt und bereit,
Daß nur mein Prinzchen nicht schreit.

Was wird das künftig noch sein?
Schlafe mein Prinzchen, schlaf ein.
Schlaf ein, schlaf ein.„

 (Text of Friedrich Wilhelm Gotter)

Of course he sang it quietly on in English and it was not so important to him who wrote the text, not now. And then with him it sounded thus:

„To sleep, my little prince, fall asleep“

To sleep, my little prince, fall asleep!
It ruh'n lamb and little bird.
Garden and meadow falls silent,
Also a little bee any more does not hum.
Luna with silver light
Look to the window.
To sleep with the silver light,
To sleep, my little prince, fall asleep,
Fall asleep, fall asleep!„
„Everything already lies in the castle
Everything in slumber rocked;
Stir no little mouse more
Cellars and kitchen are empty
Only in the lady's maid room
Sound languishing Oh
What Oh may this be?
To sleep, my little prince, fall asleep
Fall asleep, fall asleep.„
„Who is more made happy than you?
Nothing but pleasure and Resting.
Mechanism and sugar fully,
And still state coaches in the course of.
Everything procures and ready,
The fact that only my little prince do not walk.
What will this still be in future?
To sleep my little prince, fall asleep.
Fall asleep, fall asleep.„

Madleine had tried occasionally almost instinctively to breathe still more quietly, for it the tears flowed out to her out of sight. Since of course Mariannes death had made them affected and also once RF and Sgrumie, but in contrast to Ralph had been initiated they by Marianne. Whether and when they could tell Ralph that it had been Mariannes a decision to commit suicide, before the illness would kill them, was in the stars. Marianne had for a long time in her head a not operateable tumour which grew in the time of the pregnancy though not further, but to her the life made the torture. She did not expel pains also with alcohol that it had only demonstrated Ralph, yes, she wanted that he could despise them after her death and hate, she did not want only his compassion, in addition she had always been too proud. And thus she had put her death in scene: she wanted to get used just not at all only to the child, acted in such a way as if she had no more feelings, besides, the heart tore it to her and she crept away beyond the building to cry and to shout around, where nobody could hear them. The child would not see them growing up, had she wished than ever children?
And in that morning she had Sgrumie a letter leave in which stood, that they now, after the child had become 4 weeks old, does not want to wait any more longer and would make use of that capsule which would bring her one quick and painless death. The empty bottle in which wine was included once took them to deceive Ralph the last time.
She sat down 3 hours to the forest lake, tried to close with all from when said in her one other voice:
“You become - because you have resolved to commit suicide - get in an area of the interworld which begins here nearby behind the wall from fog. No fear: if you have the need to be invisibly with yours, it is as often possible as you want.”
Marianne doubted her mind, could feel well that shortly before the death the thoughts went too much on peregrination and she swallowed the capsule so on the whole as Sgrumie to her had got. Yes, painless was her death, but, however, it happened that what she would never have held for possible: her soul felt quite good, she floated over in the house, touched very affectionately mouth of her lover who could not perceive this any more, not yet.

Madleine shook off glum thoughts, wished only that in every breath of wind, every rustle of the sheets a little Marianne would be to be heard out and went on tiptoe to Ralph to whom had paused, still the book on the legs. Softly she laid to him her hands on the shoulders and, unfortunately, reminded him too much of that resolute Marianne who had directed him so often if he came to no end once again at the work.
Without turning, he laid out his hands on theirs, inhaled deeply and, but only few minutes. It could not be Marianne, nevertheless, of course not. He took one of her hands, turned the palm in such a way that his cheek could just touch this. What he would never have said and would have expressed, she felt it: also his face was covered with tears.
Affected she wanted to steal out of the space when he asked them almost in a flat voice to remain still, he made way to her look, stepped up to them and took them in the arms. Almost too long it lasted to her, he stroked her dark hair, said her that she is wonderful. She listened in according to the words, kissed him on the cheek, needed more than one minute to look at him.
Over the eyes the lines of the eyebrows which reported to her too much about what he had felt during the last days: Helplessness, pain, grief, fury, hatred and incomprehension, a maybe too dangerous mixture? Uncertainly she tore herself loose from this almost to attractive man, asked him, finally, he may come to the common space where food also waited for him.

He nodded only and she left him. The nurse appeared again and he resolved to maltreat no longer his body, while he kept food from him, finally, was of use to nobody.
To reach in the comfortable food space he had to use the lift on whose walls the framed photos of three principal characters hung: Marilyn Monroe, Tony Curtis and Jack Lemmon. 
He did not anticipate that a soul was followed him in this lift space where he was: she, Marianne who perceived very well his different moods his grief amazed them even a little. How much had he loved them then? Often enough she had looked after in her appearance doubt, never felt so desirable and expressed also in every diary which she wanted to burn, nevertheless. Mariannes soul floated depressed on and down, she dealt while still alive forgotten, just this, did she have any possibility to prevent that he would hold this book, nevertheless, still in the hands by a silly chance? She tied her arms round the man whom she had loved beyond all measure and this time it was to him as if a light wind was behind and about him. He held the hands to the possible places from which the breath could go out, there nothing was found. And he got himself with how he responded in thoughts Marianne:

“Your and my child
I look at it and know that I do not want to forget you so fast and am able
One repeats after me: I would be too proud` to demand help.
No, this time it is not the pride which moves me in addition
The child the most miraculous present to me has been
And I understood, how big your love was to me
And your fear of me.
Have you never trusted me so really completely, lovers?
My love?
How seemed she to be to you? Too slightly?
If I could talk with you, you move to come back from the empire of the souls
then say me this way to you."

To his astonishment he got her answer, because he spoke in his thought also in English and manly, how did it come then that all at once Mariannes voice - only much more softly and more quietly than while still alive - sounded in him?

And she said to him:

“Has loved you quite long before you your looks
In my direction has steered.
I have often doubted your love
Unfortunately, this is true
Madleine, as you have looked at them
so differently than me
the heart only acted to me blow before jealousy
since here with me for it no more place is.
Has doubted me only one Life-long
say me: how long will you mourn then still for me?
I want to see your eyes happily only
Your grief depresses me too much
Should know that I never want to forget you
Thus it should be till all eternity and about that still out if this is possible then.
Or do you know another way?”

However, Ralph was not ready so fast again to accept any miracle. Yes, RF and also he himself: more recently looking. Was the not a little bit completely other to hear as the voice of a dead woman? He got it almost with the fear to act and to calm down, he led a soliloquy. And, because also nobody was except him in the lift, he could sit down in complete silence on the floor and talk with himself:

“If I could believe
The fact that she is same which I hear NOW at this moment
If I said her:
Which other way should I know then?
Too long it is
The fact that I have fast lent expression to figures
They died if the darling went.
If my ill soul has already influenced the mind
If it does not become a time
to turn away me of the miracles
To those one led there me
Without I ever asked for them?!
I wished almost, I would be old
How many days ago
How the normal everyday life requires it.
Can be, I awake from the nightmare, now
My life is.
Yes, I miss you - my sweet female so charming ones
Woman, me surprised all days
We were not common together or.
My fame him seemed to you to be insignificantly, nevertheless
My dumb lament you have smiled away
It appeared to me so very stupidly almost
If my serious look has concerned you once again made.
I also read some lines fast
Why my look would not be happy so often
Have to go one then always and constantly stupidly grinning
Annoy other people?!
It runs down itself also on the stage really, if
Hamlet even still laughing dies, as if to him the death was welcome.
No, dear:
Where you are now also always
May be, it would be not at all right you
If I promised: I go where your body is now
Deceive you away and would watch, that somebody you fast
To the life then wakes.
So most ardently I also carry this wish in my heart
Forgive me, I cannot make it truth.
Am omnipotent neither
No magician and no Hexer, no alchemist, no creator
Am not that what you might have seen so often in me.
Yes, one could get fear and the doubts came fast
A mortal should unite in himself all property, Bad he from his life
Quick has deleted?
Then I would still be a God, Jesus or Osiris or, otherwise, who
From their religions talk often and with pleasure.
If you had not noted how I have turned away from those
In me saw only the one
After the being Rather only one.
A role plays or speaks fast
However, I would be in ancient time
The Pharaoh whom the people wished
Been really real?
At least there doubts are right.
Jokingly probably you have finished speaking:
“In you the day and the night join
One forgets if one sees you that there are also bad people.”
You probably forgot that I also have a dark side in myself
It kept me from being often cheerfully what you have regretted.
Many meant her hymns on me even seriously
What disturbs me in the deepest soul, if not even
Affected has made.
If one is alone, all this really does not count.
Yes, I lack you, I miss you
Know almost not from one more.
And this small almost I holds on it like once only you
O, I never would leave you from the arm.
Love which seemed to me years ago so phrase-like
The fact that I have taken seriously them hardly more:
Once bit by bit I admitted your nearness
And felt again anew.
Would never have thought, that you all my speeches about this and this
In all peace of mind quietly about you allowed to go out.
If I could fetch back only that day right away I would do it
And would accept that I am old like before.
Now have become too tiredly
To be only and to hear only own voice now:
Can be that then one hears what is not to be heard.
Does not want to talk with the dark powers like a mad person
Though I have played him
However, does not long me of course be it also to.”

However, the soul further spoke on him one, opportunity was favorable to make clear now to the man that it was just no chimera. And again he heard apparently in himself the female voice, Mariannes soul was around him, only in which she took possession of him, she could reach that he listened to her and even reacted, even if in such a way, as she expected it: the realist in him fights with the man who loved Marianne about everything.

Now their voice sounded swearing:

“Yes, it is in such a way as you suppose
But do not dare to believe: I am with you
In the same space like you.
The way which you cannot find
Behind the wall from fog I know him
There you will maybe see me, but, nevertheless, feel like now.
How charmingly now from you
The fact that you edge out own youth fast
Then 1992 is also distant, too far in that
Faith to your senses or not:
What has your Heathcliff done then?
I bet, you have never completely read novel in addition
And if, nevertheless, knows you
How he has ended.
I would never request that you me follow in this different world
On the contrary: you should live here and now.
Without finding sleep, without feeding and drink
You really the insanity fast seizes
And then you set
Maybe imagined to play a role only
Until you cannot distinguish any more reality from fairy tale.
If you change here into one of the figures from
The early time
And realises even this grief:
Here a house never belongs to you
Your "Wuthering Heights" belongs in a time,
Where your wishes not always came true.
I know you too well not to know
The fact that your mistakes so slightly are not at all
One does not get also used to this different world
Yes, I would have you with pleasure with myself
But just this should not be.
I have never called you God
A God would not have to show your many doubts.
My body leaves alone, I ask you....
Can it also be that you can make jokes?
I would find this to take the first right step.
What my playful sentences concerned once, yes, for me was
The live picture of your country and there will always remain.
Not to want to understand praise, when that what it is: only praise
And no hypocrisy and flattery
Is sad already enough.
If you still liked to doubt whether I speak or am quiet
Then continue quietly thus
Then, however, does not weight you.
Pains, whether emotionally or physically which one wants to suffer
How you did it always and constantly and still act,
Wake with me the impression: as if my death to you still is not enough.
For me there is nobody Back
How in your play if you perished magnificently.
This is no play with the life, never forget this and do not torment yourselves
You also pull me with it down...
I ask you as a woman whom I was once
Their soul sometime in the other body the light once more may experience.
However, say me fast: want you to see me?
Maybe it would be better to omit from this
If now already my voice can throw you from the road.
And one more tip: if you speak to me
Then think only of me, but it can happen fast
One holds you for a person
Has already concluded with himself.”

Now for him it seemed: she came along partly jocularly about him, partially she wanted to protect him, another side in her former character.
After this strange dialogue one hour had passed, he entered the space in which really still dishes on feasted stood, he enjoyed it. Yes, he did not plan really to ruin physically himself, his thoughts further dealt with Marianne. Wall from fog? He decided to ask Sgrumie, RF or Madleine to accompany him. Mariannes soul interfered:

“You must come just, because the souls do not like it
If more than one speaks
from the world of the living people
to them who are in the dark
Or in the bright, completely how her conscience has looked”




All rights belong to its author. It was published on by demand of Meike Schrut.
Published on on 12/07/2009.


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