Facelift

  Chapter 12

  SURPRISE, SURPRISE

  My night in the Furstenhoff Hotel was not pleasant. The room was spacious, but its walls were cold and its furniture scarred. Its high ceiling was from another time, and the furniture was probably decades old. The bed was hard, and normally I would have found the bed much to my liking, but the unusual events of the previous evening had left me anxious, and the room was decidedly uninviting. I had a hard time falling to sleep, and when I did what little sleep I did have was disrupted by dreams of SS Troopers. I later learned that the Furstenhoff Hotel had served as lodging for ranking SS officers during World War II. I'm certain their ghosts still walk the halls. When I awoke, I was disoriented, confused, didn't know where I was. It took a moment for my head to clear and my confusion soon was replaced with a sickening recollection of the previous evening. As I peered at my reflection coming from the bathroom mirror, I shook my head and loudly said, "I should have just settled for a facelift!"

  I spent a long time in the shower that morning, but no amount of hot water washed away the ache in my gut. I've always prided myself on my ability to think logically, to be rational during times of stress. This however was reality, and reality was much different from my Walter Mitty fantasies. Kathy would have had some pithy witticism to describe my plight, but Kathy was 10,000 miles away. I was essentially alone in Vienna. Of course there were my Israeli friends, but I really didn't know them very well, and I wasn't even certain I could trust them. Maybe it was because of them that I had been followed. After all, Hillel had seemed all too calm about the whole thing. And, that taxi driver, what was with that? He didn't even have to think about what hotel he was going to take me to. Thank god I didn't stay at that hotel. At least I had the presence of mind to find my own hotel. Theoretically, no one knew where I was. From here, I could hide out and decide on my next move. I looked out the window. I was on the third floor and could see into the courtyard of the church next door. A tree partially obstructed my view to the west, but I could see the hotel that I had been delivered to the previous evening. It seemed much closer in morning's light than it had seemed last night when I was scurrying down the dark street.

  I placed a towel out on the floor and lay down on my back. For twenty-five years I had faithfully done a morning exercise routine. In all of those years, I had only missed a few mornings. My morning exercise had become a ritual, and even under the current circumstances, my body demanded I follow my routine. In a way it was comforting to give my mind up to my body’s rhythms. I had been doing these exercises for so long they seemed to occur automatically: 100 crunches, 50 pushups, 50 back extensions, 25 leg lifts and back, shoulder and leg stretches. The exercises seemed to help. My circulation had picked up and so had my attitude—for that matter, so had my appetite. Breakfast was being served, and a cup of Vienna coffee, granola and fruit sounded good.

  Just before leaving the room, I appraised myself in the mirror. The wrinkle proof Van Heusen was living up to its name, but the pants were decidedly more relaxed. I looked into the mirror intently, and was surprised at my assessment of my appearance. No, I wasn't young, but I had a certain strength in my features that I hadn't seen before. For a moment, I felt optimistic. I could get through this, and why not, I had enough money to go where I wanted, I was intelligent enough to get through this, I was in excellent physical shape, and no one knew where I was. I picked up my sketchpad and headed for breakfast. I'd figure this out over coffee.

  I bounded down the stairs, and turned into the lobby, to see a familiar face looking up at me.

  "Howdy, sleepy head, thot I mite haf to come up there an jump on yer bed."

  I was dumfounded. The lioness was there in the hotel lobby, seated on a small love-seat, her long legs comfortably crossed at the ankles and her arms folded under her ample bosom. I shook my head in disbelief and stuttered, "Uh, uh...."

  "Suprise, suprise," she smiled and stood. She slipped her arm through mine and said, "Mind if we take a walk."

  I didn't mind...and a feeling in my gut told me that I didn’t have much of a choice.

  We walked down the stairs and onto the sidewalk in front of the hotel. The street was already filled with people, typical of European cities. The weather was pleasantly cool and the sky was blue with occasional clouds floating by. She guided me across the busy street to the West Banhoff Station. We walked down the stairs into the subway, boarded a train, and rode for about 10 minutes. We came up at Saint Stephen’s Cathedral and took a short walk to a nondescript coffee shop. We hadn't talked since we left the hotel.

  Vienna coffee with milk can fix almost anything, but this morning even my appetite for coffee was flat. The lioness ordered coffee and milk for the two of us. I remember trying to give her a severe stare, instead I found myself being captivated by her incredible beauty. Harsh is not my nature, and nothing melts my resolve quicker than a beautiful woman. What had Heath got me into? Yes, it was definitely his fault: his youthful taunting, his incredible success with women, and his goading me into making that stupid bet. Otherwise, I would have been peacefully ensconced in my mundane niche worrying about whether to get a facelift instead of wondering if I were going to see another sunrise.

  "So, would you mind telling me what the hell is going on?” I quietly said in tone that sounded more fearful than angry.

  Something told me that story she would tell was the stuff of which novels are written. There was more about her than augmented breasts that were not entirely true.