Seven Days Spain by Elvira Frankenheim - HTML preview

Epilogue

Düsseldorf Airport Terminal, outside

I place myself in the back. »What’s your name soldier?« Dieter is asking our taxi driver, because we on the airplane we actually did bet again, who pays the cab back home. I was dibbling that the last name would start with one of the letters between A and K. »Detlef Kaiser«

is the reply. The driver who has a widely buttoned open shirt that shows off some fragile chain with a little cross. »Won!« I’m happy, and additionally mention to the driver: »The only Detlef, I’ve ever heard of, was Disaster Detlef. Hopefully your driving style isn’t that disastrous.« »Disaster Detlef?« The driver is astonished, who quite contrary to our Turkish Michael Schumacher shows a really chill and relaxed driving style. »Yes, exactly. Disaster Detlef«, I say. »I see!«, says the driver and starts to laugh.

Wait a sec, why does he start to laugh? I start to get a slight touch of idea. »Hey man, by any chance, could it be that YOU are Disaster Detlef? THE Disaster Detlef?« I want to know, burning curiosity my second name. »Quite right!« I’m baffled. »Hey, you’re a former friend of my big sister Sandra.« »Which Sandra? Sandra Bullock?« He shortly turns around to me and grins at me. »No, with Sandra Schulz.«

»Sandra Schulz? No idea!« he makes me understand. »Man, you spent more time in your life behind the bars than in school.« »Absolutely correct.« Again, he starts to smile. Oh man, he seems to have overcome his dark past with humor. »And now you’re driving cabs?

Isn’t it an honest job?« »Of course.« »What happened?« »Inner changes. Crime sucks.« »Who did change you that radically positive?«

I keep on asking him and at the moment I think of my father and can already imagine what the answer will be.

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