fresh.
“Of course, I can’t force you to leave,” Gerlach said with a shrug. “A father casting out his son doesn’t look proper, even with a mongrel of a son like you. But if you stay, your life will be hell on earth—I promise. No one is going to speak with you, not even your brothers. You’ll perform the most menial tasks and take your meals with the dogs outside.” He took a sip of wine and stroked his beard. “But I’m not a monster. Upstairs in your room, you’ll find a purse with a few coins, a warm coat, and a pair of solid leather shoes. Take it and go with God, or with the devil for all I care. I don’t want to see you here tomorrow morning. The people will say you ran away, and everyone will understand.” Gerlach made to get up, but when Johann started talking, he sat back down.
“Where does all this hatred come from, Father?” asked Johann calmly.
“Where?” Gerlach gave a laugh. “I think you can answer that yourself.”
“I’m not talking about the woods or the fact that I wasn’t with Mother when she died. You’ve always hated me. Am I not right? I’ve never had a gentle word from you. I was never allowed to sit on your lap. You’ve never given me as much as a piece of apple for a treat or a spinning top to play with. You even treated little Martin better than me. Why?”
His father said nothing for a while and stared at him from small, bloodshot eyes. Then he cleared his throat. “What the hell. You’re leaving anyway, so why shouldn’t you know?” He leaned forward and Johann smelled his alcoholic breath.
“Yes, it’s true,” Jörg Gerlach said quietly. “I never loved you like a son—because you aren’t my son.”
Johann winced as if he’d been slapped.
“Your mother was the most beautiful woman in town, but by God, people were right, she was a goddamn whore!” spat Gerlach, his eyes flashing with hatred. “I would have given her everything, but I was never enough for her. The whole of Knittlingen wasn’t enough for her! She thought she was better than the rest of us, just like you. At home she acted all meek and quiet, but at the inn with the travelers, she laughed and danced and did as she pleased. I could never prove anything, but folks were talking, and I always knew that something was going on. Especially when that young fellow came to town, that . . . that sorcerer!”
“Sorcerer?” Johann felt as if he were in a dream. “What . . . what sorcerer?”
“A pale, black-haired fellow carrying a pack full of magic knickknacks. He was from the west, from beyond the Rhine. Some kind of scholar, traveling student, and juggler.” Jörg Gerlach snorted derisively. “Claimed he could read the stars and speak with the dead. He put a spell on your mother, that’s what he did! He only looked about twenty years old with his silky black hair, same as yours. But his eyes—I swear it—his eyes were those of an old man. Like the devil’s eyes! They met up secretly in the forest, she and he. I’m sure of it. Because afterward she was a different woman, and cold as a fish in bed. Nine months later, you were born, you . . . you bastard!”
Gerlach spat out the last words, spraying saliva all over Johann’s face.
“The man had the nerve to come back to town after you were born,” Gerlach continued scornfully. “If only he’d taken you with him. But I made sure he left for good. By God, if he hadn’t taken to the hills at the last moment, we’d have set that sorcerer alight like a straw puppet.” He gave a brief laugh but then turned serious again.
“Since then, people call me a cuckold behind my back. They think I don’t notice, but I feel it, every day. Every time I see you I’m reminded of my shame.” Jörg Gerlach rose to his feet. “Now get out of my house! You’re not one of us and you never have been! Go and never come back to Knittlingen, so this curse can finally come to an end.”
The last Johann saw of his father was his broad back and his bull neck as he stomped out of the kitchen, leaving Johann alone at the table.
Johann remained sitting there for a while. He looked at the devotional corner with the cross and the