The Devil's Opera(43)

And on Wednesday, the world ordered itself to Ursula’s intent. After they had eaten, she retired for a moment to her bedroom, then returned with a large bonnet on her head and wearing a coat over her dress. She stood lopsided and held her arms up in what was almost an imperious manner. Hans said nothing as he stepped up to her. There was a swirl of movement, then she was in his arms, one arm across his shoulders, the other holding her cane.

“Come along, Simon,” she directed.

Simon started when Hans nodded at the door but stepped forward to open it. Hans moved through the doorway sideways, being most careful not to bump Ursula into the doorframe. When he started down the stairs, Simon came behind, closing the door with a loud thump. He clattered down the stairs, wooden shoes banging on the treads, and caught up with them at the bottom.

“Where to, Uschi?” Hans asked.

“Frau Anna’s first. After that, we will see.”

So Hans took off down the street, Simon following close behind. Before long, he was marveling at his friend’s strength. He had seen men pick other people up before, but never for very long, and never when walking down the street, block after block. “Stark Hans, nothing,” he muttered. “He should be called Eisen Hans.” And indeed Hans seemed made of iron. There was no droop to his shoulders, no sagging of his arms. He carried Ursula as if she was only the weight of a feather.

“What did you say, Simon?” Hans called over his shoulder.

“Nothing.”

Otto Gericke’s rules for markets in Greater Magdeburg were considered liberal by the conservative bürgermeisters of Old Magdeburg. Due to the size of the population, markets were allowed three days a week, and were allowed in more than one location, such that after a while the various vendors started grouping together.

It wasn’t long today before Ursula and her entourage arrived in the area of town favored by the sellers of secondhand clothing. It was one of Simon’s favorite parts of town. People there would talk to him freely, and sometimes send him on errands.

Hans walked up to one particular cart and gently set Ursula’s feet to the ground in front of it. His sister straightened herself as best she could, adjusted her coat, and faced the proprietress.

“Frau Anna,” she said with a nod.

“Fraulein Ursula,” came the response from what had to be the oldest woman Simon had ever seen. Under her scarf her hair was pure white, the skin of her broad face sagged in a very tapestry of wrinkles, and there did not appear to be a tooth in her head. But she stood straight and her alert eyes gleamed from their nests of wrinkles like those of a cuckoo. She also had a hearty chuckle, which sounded at the next moment.

“It’s not that I’m not glad to see you, Liebling, but I wonder what has brought you to old Anna on this blustery day?” Simon had some trouble understanding her.

“Simon.” Ursula beckoned with her free hand. He stepped around Hans to where she could lay her hand on his shoulder. “The boy needs clothes. Two shirts, two pants, two hose, a jacket that fits, and a coat.”

Frau Anna looked Simon up and down. He straightened under her examination. “A scamp of a lad, I imagine he is.” She chuckled again, reached out a wrinkled hand and patted his cheek. He bore the soft touch without flinching, he was proud to note. “Well enough, let me see what I have.”

The old woman turned to her cart. Simon detected no rhyme or reason to the arrangement of the piles of clothes on the cart, but Anna’s hands dove into the piles like otters into a river, surfacing every now and then to drape a bundle of cloth over the cart handles. One last time they appeared, and she began handing garments to Ursula.

“Simon,” Ursula said again and pulled him around in front of her. He stood, bewildered, as she held shirts up against his back and shoulders and pants up against his waist, bending to see where they fell to. The two women muttered to each other, and Anna dove back into the cart to pull out yet another shirt. Ursula examined it with care, then nodded her approval.

Anna had a jacket for him as well, but when it came to a coat anywhere close to his size, she had nothing that a man would wear. “Sorry, Liebling, but I sold the last one I had not an hour before you came. But you might go down the way to old Herman’s cart. He had some the last time I saw him. Just look them over good.”

The old woman smiled, and just for a moment Simon got a glimpse of what she must have been like as a girl. That surprised him. He’d never thought before that old people had to have been his age upon a time.

“So how much?” Ursula asked. This commenced the bargaining over his new clothes. Simon listened, awe-struck, as the two women chaffered back and forth, eventually arriving at a sum that almost made him choke. It didn’t seem to bother Hans, though, when Ursula waved at him. He stepped up, pulled a handful of money from his pocket, and counted a paper bill and a pfennig and bits of broken coins until Frau Anna was satisfied.