Grandpa is doing quite well; the material was delivered the day before yesterday. He started working on the accelerator right away. I don’t want to disturb him now, so we agreed he would call me when it’s finished. I have completely fallen for the vision and I think about visiting Tom wherever I go. I have to think about the right place and time to meet him, because grandpa explained to me I wouldn’t be able to stay there for more than 60 minutes. Staying any longer than that would be dangerous for me as well as for the history. In an hour you can’t screw things up so much, even though I know something that could be done in just a few minutes… Too bad I have to forget about it. I still have to think about the place, but I guess I’ll visit our 18th birthday party. I remember exactly where and when it happened, so it will be a piece of cake to handle that.
I stopped shaving, because I need to change my image. True, I’m seven years older now, but people could still recognize me. I will have to go there without make-up, because eye liner and stuff would most definitely give away who I was. I haven’t changed that much in those seven years. The beard should be enough, nobody has ever seen me with a beard. I’ve always shaved myself clean. It itches like hell, but I have to endure it.
I can’t put any make-up over the beard, I would look strange, and so I sit at home, not going anywhere. The funny thing is, the beard grows blond. I will have to color it to match the color of my hair. It starts to bring only trouble, this time travelling.
Whenever I do have to go out and meet the public, I put on Tom’s baseball-cap and black glasses; all the rest I organize by phone, pretending my cam stopped working.
A week ago, the guys from the band stopped by and we agreed to have a break for two or three months and then we would try and find a new guitarist. After all, we love music and I believe Tom would want us to rock on without him. It won’t be the same, but we have to try. There are also the producers, we have some contracts to obey and we are still gold to them.
The first time I came back from the grandpa’s house, I decided to do a couple of interviews for the press. I knew I wouldn’t be able to postpone it for much longer with my changing appearance, so I had to do it. I found it horrible to speak about Tom, but I had the dream I could meet Tom again, so it wasn’t as definitive as it had seemed to be in the cemetery.
And what’s more, grandpa told me maybe I could travel in time more than once. After all, the old man is eighty and even though he went through several cell-repairs, he has to meet his death some time. Then I could inherit Beda and time-travel on my own, wherever I would want to go.
‚Weekends in the past‘. What a travelling agency that would be. We’ll see. I haven’t even tried it yet and I am already making plans for the future. Maybe it won’t work. Or I will never come back again, but I don’t want to think about that now.
I have to ask grandpa what would happen if I got stuck in the past, whether I would live, or I would just vanish, like steam over a pot. I still have lots of questions; I will have to write them down so I won’t forget them.
I also got ideas for some lyrics again; I hope we’ll record some music to accompany them someday. Perhaps I’ll write a song to remember my brother by. He surely would deserve that.
Tomorrow I’m going to Mom and Gordon’s place in Loitsche. Mom is going to be surprised when she sees my brand new beard, but I’ll shrug off the question. I can say I don’t want people to recognize me now.
I have to buy her a gift, it was her birthday last week and I only called her and sent her a little something via mail. True, I sent her a huge bouquet, but personal congratulations can’t be compensated with anything. I’ll browse the internet and find something nice for her.
But what? Mom doesn’t go out of the house anymore, so a handbag is out of question. She has plenty of handbags from us anyway; only designer stuff other women would kill for, but mom only goes to the shop and back and she doesn’t use a handbag anyway. Tom and I always sucked at choosing gifts, we didn’t even bother giving each other anything and mom got her handbags regularly. Now I have to think really hard and find something nice.
Eureka, I’ve got it! I’ll buy her a new sewing-machine. She still has a prehistoric one with a pedal, and it’s really crap. I used to sew trousers and narrow shirts to have them nice and fitting, so I should know. Mom says the old machine still works for her pretty well, but a new machine would make her happy, I’m sure it would. Today the modern things almost sew by themselves since there are computers built in everything; they almost even cut the fabric on their own.
I choose a really hi-tech machine, Gordon will have to read the manual, mom was never up to such things; she’s the artist, but they can work it out together. It was quite expensive, but the component for Beda was twice as expensive. I paid by credit card and had it send to Loitsche. Delivery time should be about twenty minutes after my arrival, so I have to hurry and hope I don’t get stuck in traffic anywhere. I shut down the internet window and got Scotty ready to go outside. We are going to the park.
(…)
I’m slowly making my plan and getting things ready for my journey. Grandpa called yesterday; he’s almost finished and Beda should be ready to start the next day. The beard is dense, even Mom couldn’t recognize me. She was really happy about the new machine, but I could see she probably won’t use it. She misses Tom as much as I do; we talked about him a lot. I explained her exactly what happened and wanted to give her the idea that Sabine is not the only guilty one in all of this. My mom hates her, naturally, but that’s how it is and I understand. I feel quite the same way, even though I know what happened.
In a closet I found a pair of my old big glasses, covering nearly half of my face, the other half is beard. I slowly begin to plan how to sneak into the party as a stranger. It was held in the Indochina restaurant in Hamburg. It doesn’t exist anymore, so I can’t go there to check out the place. It’s been all rebuilt, but I can clearly remember we went through a back door to a yard to smoke cigarettes all evening. It was never locked and just a couple of employees knew about that entrance. It’s clear I can’t get inside through the front door, because there would be the bodyguards securing the whole area. What would I tell them? I am our mother’s cousin’s stepbrother or some shit like that? I’m damn sure they wouldn’t buy it, we’ve never had an uncle who looked like a hobo.
Behind the yard, there was an old block of flats, through which you could get out to the street. I think the door wasn’t closed then because of the party. We had to keep everything secret; everywhere we went, the fans went too. Sometimes I was afraid to open the cover of the toilet seat, expecting another fan there. I liked them all, but sometimes they just crossed the line.
Once, one fan snuck into my car and refused to get out. She started kissing me frantically and I couldn’t get her off me! When I finally managed to get her off me, I had to take her home and autograph her thigh. Yeah, those were the old days. But I enjoyed it anyway, it energized me. Standing on stage is the greatest adrenalin rush I know.
So I’m packed up. I’ve just prepared my only black leather suit, because for the party we had announced a formal dress code, so I don’t want to stand out in the crowd. The only one who stood out that night was Tom with his red skull T-shirt and baggy jeans, he never gave a shit.
Now I have to wait for Grandpa Schultz to call me to come. I’ll take Scotty with me, he would be bored as hell at home and if I don’t come back, he’ll stay at grandpa’s; he likes him. He would love living in countryside.
I found out what would happen to me if I got stuck in the past and I don’t want to experience that. According to grandpa it has never happened before, but it would most likely cause total body decomposition because it’s impossible to live twice at one time. I guess I would die within a year, so I’m going to make sure I don’t stay longer than an hour. I hope the old Beda machine will last till the end.
25.6.2014
So… today should be the day when everything is ready. In the morning I have to finish up the last of my image changes; dye my hair and beard to match. Highlights aren’t my thing anymore, but I’ll stick with black hair for the rest of my life. I like dark colors way too much to be blond again. I will have to tie my hair into a ponytail and put it under a cap so nobody will recognize me.
You can hardly hide moves and steps, I would have to start developing a limp, but I would be too noticeable then. When I put on the baseball-cap to cover my brows and the big sunglasses on my nose, it’s almost perfect. Even I wouldn’t recognize myself. I will pretend I’m one of the crew people, I know all of them, so it shouldn’t be a problem.
Scotty had a problem with my new look at first, but he eventually chilled out, because like any other dog he can recognize me by my scent. I make sure I write a letter for my mom and leave it on the table to let her know what happened to me if I don’t come back. Grandpa called at ten o’clock in the morning that we can come.
