WENDELL

Wendell was never lonely. He only had to look upon the sun and the moon and the stars to realize he was part of something wonderous. On his 10th birthday, he had been given an older Siamese cat from his Uncle Alois and this was a very expensive and unusual thing to have in Masern. He named the cat Sherry which to him sounded very foreign and sophisticated. Wendell and Sherry would spend hours together looking into the sky both in the day and, more often, in the night but the time they enjoyed most was basking in the moon when the sky was clear and the moon was full and high. They did this so often that it became a regular and natural thing… Wendell would whisper a song and Sherry would purr-it along.

One month, when the moon was at it’s fullest, Wendell thought it would be even better if they were joined in some way and they could enjoy their magical evenings forever. So ever so gently, he removed the string holding up his pajamas and tied it around his right wrist and then, even more gently, around Sherry’s waist. They then drifted off under the glow of a full, bright moon.

Sometime later, Wendell was awakened by a slight tug on his arm. Then a bigger yank on his wrist and, suddenly, a ripping tearing at his hand. In a grog, he wasn’t quite sure what was going on until he saw Sherry’s back-end trying to jump off the bed and in the process pulling the string tighter and tighter. The more she pulled the tighter it got until Sherry paniced and was about to break the tie that bound. And break it did but not until she had pulled Wendell off the bed and into the tight space between the bed and the wall and then under the bed and out the other side. In the mayhem, one cat suddenly became 10 and, in a matter of seconds, did hours worth of monsterous damage by scratching and biting to free herself from the rope, the moon and Wendell.

Sherry was finally free and Wendell was finally free and now he had lots of new opportunities to contemplate the wonderousness of it all.

Wendell’s family was sitting around the large planked table his great-grandfather crafted with the extended family all in a joyous mood. It was Easter Sunday and a special time of the year so everyone was joyous with the special feast and festivities with a table was filled with smoked hams and sausages, bread, eggs and horseradish.

He was busy picking out the best parts of the soup when he noticed that the table had slowly gotten very, very quiet. He figured it was because everyone was as entranced with the meal as he was so first he ate the beef and then the carrots, then the noodles and gravy and saving the glass of milk for last.

But as the silence became deafening, he glanced up from this steaming bowl and noticed that no one was eating and everyone was staring at… Him! With a slurp and a smile, he tried to ignore it but it soon became obvious that he was the unwanted center of attention.

Becoming truly uncomfortable in his own skin, he asked, to no one in particular, “Why are you all looking at me?” There was no response or reaction from the frozen dozen around the table. He asked again and again and still…. nothing.

Finally, cousin Sophie whispered: “Dearest Wendell. Don’t be so suspicious. We are only your family here and we love you so much. We want to enjoy our day just as much as you. Why would we stare at you? You are so ugly and small? What can we do? You are only in our line of vision and cannot look anywhere else except straight ahead at you!”

This went on and on until Wendell became unbearably self-concious and red in the face. Then he got very, very angry and his head throbbed. They kept staring and denying and denying and staring until he finally burst out with a yelp and a scream that they were all playing a big, nasty trick on him and he didn’t like it one, little bit. It was only after this outrageous outburst that his mother came from the stove and hit Wendell with a big wooded spoon across the back of his head with a THWAAAACK telling him not to be such a difficult, difficult child on such a happy, happy occassion.

Once again, there was a silence but this time it was strangely calm and soothing but then a hideous howl of laughter erupted as everyone pounded the table spilling milk and soup everywhere. Vater yelled down from the loft “What’s going on?” and everyone, including Wendell, said ‘Oh, nothing at all!” Even his Mutter had to stiffle her gleeful joy and obvious smirk as she hurried back to her “business” in the big pot of soup on the stove.

Only after the Fall did Wendell understand this was a centuries old game in the Homeland that made them a unique and close people and he couldn’t wait until it was his turn to stare and deny and stare and deny.

…WHAT HAD BEEN DISMEMBERED BECAME THE SAD OBSESSION FOR THE REMNANTS OF GOTTSCHEE.

There is a song-poem, part of the Middle-High German Folk-Epic Gudrun which is preserved today only in the Gottscheer language and handed down from mother to daughter and father to son…. NEVER between father and daughter or mother to son and it goes:

THE WOMAN BY THE SEA

1/ How early is up the woman by the sea, The beautiful, the young woman by the sea.

2/ She rises very early in the morn, She goes to wash the white linens,

3/ To the wide sea, to the deep water. She starts, she washes well.

4/ On the sea there swims a small ship, In it there sit two young gentlemen.

5/ “Good Morning, you beautiful woman by the sea, You beautiful, you young woman by the sea!”

6/ “Many thanks, may thanks, young gentlemen, Good mornings I have few!”

7/ From his finger he takes a ring: “Take it, you beautiful woman by the sea!”

8/ “I am not the beautiful woman by the sea I am just the diaper washerwoman.”

9/ Then they put her in the small ship And ride across the wide sea.

10/ “You are indeed the beautiful woman by the sea, The beautiful, the young woman by the sea.” 

11/ She takes a handkerchief into her hand And rides across the sea.

12/ And when she then arrived there, They greet her and embrace her.

13/ And kiss her, the woman by the sea, The beautiful, the young woman by the sea.

Photo from Wendell’s Spiral Bound courtesy of Gottscheer Relief Association.

…Wendell was a version with no cumulative knowledge. Everything was happening for the first time, all he knew had to be constantly, and instantly, relearned and everyone he met, or remet, was a brand new acquaintance. He sometimes wondered if that was why people frequently spoke to him slowly and carefully as if he had a learning disability. Or just maybe, he often thought, they had one.

… HE’S THE MEDIUM, THE MESSAGE AND THE MESSENGER™

…WENDELL WAS IN TROUBLE.. BUT WHEN HIS TIME CAME HE WAS NOT AFRAID FOR, FINALLY, HE WOULD BE CONTENT.

Aligned spine to spine, he was what he read.

Transcending time and space, he was the Medium, the Message and the Messenger.

Finally and joyously, he was content as content in a world that was whole