To The Furthest Reaches of Omega
David Fox, His Girlfriend Brigita And Jonathan’s Plan
It had only been a few days since Nigel and Elizabeth Fox had left Wiesbaden Germany in April of 2000. They had spent two weeks visiting with Nigel’s nephew David Fox who was studying German Philosophy at the University of Wiesbaden. In the intricate and interconnected web of relationships that I had created in my Omega group, David Fox was among the many important players in my overall plan. For Brigita his girlfriend, I also had important plans
David had completed his PhD in German philosophy at the University of Chicago and he was attending classes at the University of Wiesbaden in the county of Hesse In the ancient land of Clovis and the Merovingian kings, Of those who call themselves “Franks” and of the collapse of the Roman Empire in the West.
Brigita had been knocking for nearly 15 minutes at David Fox’s front door without any answer and she was almost ready to turn around and go home when David finally opened the door and let her inside.
“I’ve been out here knocking for the longest time,” She spoke to him in German.
“Es Tut mir leid. I’m sorry,” he responded. “I was finishing up a video.”
She entered the apartment and she could see a video camera tripod set up near a set of bookcases in there was a large leather chair positioned at an angle. Behind the camera, there was a screen. He had dressed in a dark tweed jacket with an English ascot with his hair combed back.
“What are you doing?” She asked in German.
“I am making a video,” he answered in English.
“Fur ihren? For whom,” she asked.
He had a copy of a disc that read “Omega Video Club.”
“Was ist los? What is the matter?” she asked him.
“Nichts (nothing),” he answered.
“Do you have been behaving very strange,” she spoke in English. “ Gehen wir ins Kino? We’re going to the movie?”
“Of course.”
“Was ist Diese Omega Video Club?”
“I’ll explain later.”
“Spater Sie versprechen?”
“Ja. Ich verspreche (I’ll explain.)”
He closed the door to the apartment and began to walk down the steps down the street where she had parked her car. When they arrived at the car, she open the door for him and he climbed inside.
“Tonight do we speak in English or German? I’ve forgotten,” he asked her.
“Auf Anglish, in English,” she answered.
“You look very nice,” he told her.
“Thank you,” she answered.
“What movie are we watching?”
“Meet the parents,” she responded.
“An American film?”
“Yes.”
She started the car and began to pull away from the curb.
“I read about your uncle in the newspaper,” she told him.
“I am surprised news about him has reached the German papers,” he acknowledged.
“It’s big news,” she expressed. “They say he stopped a train wreck.”
“It’s too crazy for me,” David commented.
“Is this what you wearing to the cinema?” she asked. He was still wearing the ascot and jacket.”
“Auch, Ich vergesse.”
He removed the ascot and took off the tweed jacket and tossed them into the backseat of the car.
“Besser?” he asked.
“Better,” she responded.
When they arrived at the Cineplex, it was crowded. There were both in German language and American films playing. They could see several soldiers dressed in US military uniforms also waiting in line. It’s been 10 years since German reunification and one of the films was called “Separation” About a German family separated for 50 years by the Soviet occupation of Eastern Germany, finally reunited after the destruction of the Berlin Wall. The film chronicled their struggles to overcome the cultural and linguistic differences created by separation. The film had received favourable reviews, but it was too heavy a subject for Brigita who wanted to see a light comedy. After Brigita parked their car three blocks away from the cinema, They walked toward the cineplex and joined the others in line waiting to purchase tickets.
“Bist du sicher fur diese Amerikanische film?” he asked het. “ Wir konnen ‘Separation’ sehen (we can see Separation.)”
“Ich bin sicher, I am sure.”
“I don’t like American films. They seem thrown together by committee. There is no unified vision,” he told her.
“Ich will lachen (I will laugh). Ich mochte lachen (I want to laugh.)” She spoke.
“German cinema has always fascinated me,” he explained. “Deutsche schriftsteller, Deutsche wissenschaffen, Deutsche philosophie.”
“Sie sind mehr Deutsch als Ich. You are more German than I am.”
“Ich weisse. Es war Herman Hesse roman Siddharta Ich in den schuppen hinter unserem Bauerhause gefunden. (It was the Herman Hesse novel Siddharta I found in the shed behind our farmhouse.)”
“Das buch war auf Deutsch? (That book was in German?”
“Ja. Es beginnt mein obsession.” He paused. “I sat in the shed and read Siddhartha with a German dictionary.”
“What did your family think about this?” she asked him.
“They thought I was crazy. Verruckt.”
“Sie sind verruckt aber auf wunderbare weise. (You are crazy but in awonderful way.)”
“I thought tonight was in English,” she told him.
“Of course. We are they coming to see this American movie in Wiesbaden because I read a book in German in my shed in Wisconsin.”
“Do you know how that got there?” she asked.
“I have no idea. Keine Ahnung.”
When they arrived at the ticket booth, most of the patrons for purchasing tickets for “Meet the Parents.” Only a small handful of purchasing tickets for “Separation.” he felt a little disappointed that he couldn’t see the German film. But then David spent most of his life outside of the mainstream, first in Wisconsin, then at the University of Wisconsin, then at the University of Chicago and final in Wiesbaden. He felt more comfortable in Wiesbaden than in any other place he had lived. His life path had followed a clear and unfettered trajectory. The soldiers to his surprise purchased tickets for “Separation” and then he and Brigita entered the main corridor of the Cineplex.
“It’s amazing how similar this place looks just like every cinema I’ve been to in the United States,” he commented. “Everything in the world is becoming homogenised.”
“That’s a greek word,” Brigita responded. “Homogenised. Ever since Elizabeth left, like you, I have my ‘worterbuch auf Griesich.’ I am learning Greek.”
“Good for you!”
“Homogenised. To become the same. Why do they say milk is homogenised?” she asked.
“I know something about that. I grew up on a dairy farm. When milk sits it separates, with whey and curds and milk fat on separate layers. Homogenisation makes it resistant to separation.”
“You don’t miss the farm?”
“Sometimes. I miss homemade cheese,” he acknowledged.
“Germans love cheese. We never have enough,” she told him.
“You also love sausages. You are getting me hungry. Would you like something? They sell pastries,” he suggested.
“Too much sugar.”
“Soda?” he proposed.
“Nein. Ich bin nicht hungrig.”
When they entered the main viewing room, the only seats left with those in the front next to the screen and though he was reluctant to sit so close to the action, He followed her down the aisle until they found two empty seats. As soon as they sat down, Brigita turned to him and asked, “What is this Omega Video Club?”
“You’re asking me this now? Right before the movie starts?”
“Ja, Jetz.”
“It’s a project I’m doing for that group I told you about.”
“Why you?”
“Because they asked. I am very good with video now. I will show you what the videos are about. I just read the texts they sent to me.”
“I know I’ve asked you this before,” she spoke earnestly. “But who are they?”
“It’s better I don’t talk about them,” he responded.
“Be careful,” she told him.
“Ich bin immer vorsichlich!” he responded.
Then the movie began playing. I was surprised as the film progressed that he was laughing along with the rest of the audience has been Stiller went through a series of obstacles that funny let him to meeting Robert DeNiro. He had seen DeNiro in more serious and often darker films. His performances reminded him of German cinema. Like comedies such as this one usually bored him. The film was finally over, he felt relief and a little disappointed that it followed the familiar patterns of Hollywood romantic films.
“Was Denken Sie?” Brigita asked him as they began to leave the theatre.
“What the film needed was a really bad father. A tyrant.” He paused. “Think of Edward G Robinson or Lee Marvin. For that kind of a man to change would be really extraordinary. Think about a horse breeder from Kentucky, tyrannical and intimidating then miraculously becoming the sweetest guy in the world. That would be a movie.”
“You are becoming,” she struggled a moment with the English words, “A connoisseur of American classic films.”
“Very good. Yes, I have watched many films as part of this project.”
“Sie waren zu einem connoiseur Amerikanischer Film Klasikus,” She repeated in German.
“Die alteren filmen waren einfach besser, viele der grossen Hollywood Regisseuer aus Deutschland. (The old fims were better.) Many of the best directors were exiles from Nazi regime. Fritz Lang, Billy Wilder, Otto Preminger, Ernst Lubitch.”
“Did you like the movie?” She asked him.
“It was very funny. The Robert DeNiro character reminded me a little if your father. I thought your father was BND when I first met him.”
“Mein Vater ist elektro-Ingenieur.”
“Ich weiss. Mein Vater was ein bauer.”
She chuckled. “Some of my friends thought he was east German Stasi.”
“He told me he was born and raised in Dresden,” David acknowledged.
“He was never in the DDR,” she asserted.
“He also told me he was born in 1939 and remembers the firebombing.”
“No bad memories tonight. Keine schlechte Erinerungen heute abend, Bitte,” she noted.
“Naturlich.”
“I want to laugh,” she expressed. There could never be too much laughter.
But despite her best intentions this was not destined to be a night of laughter. What seemed like a random couple of hours of respite, would become a life-threatening drama only a few moments after Brigita had spoken these remarks.
As they left the theatre doors and began the three-block walk toward their car, another patron just a few steps in front of them suddenly collapsed on the street. It appeared to David that this man had suffered a heart attack. While his shocked family watched immovably, David began to check the man for vital signs. He had no pulse and David began to administer CPR. Brigita was on her phone calling for an ambulance. While the family stood by and watched, David kept the man’s heart beating until the ambulance finally arrived. His wife and the two boys of 8 and 11 stood statue-like watching with streams of tears across their faces. When the paramedics arrived five minutes later, a young woman took over for David, while an older man prepared a defibrillator. Three times they tried before finally restarting the heart.
When they put the man onto a stretcher, his wife turned to David and spoke to him, “Danke. Sie gerretet mein ehemann.”
“Ich habe nichts getan, (I did nothing.) Es war das apparat das rettete him, (It was the apparatus that saved him.)” David acknowledged.
“Sie waren das Bruck (You were the bridge.)” she expressed. These words poignantly touched David.
“How did you know how to do that?” Brigita asked him.
“I took training a long time ago.”
“Thank God you were here at exactly the right moment.”