The Other Side of the Wall

Maybe It's the Wind

"Did you see that?”

“See what?” Max replied.

“That . . . that shadow that went past the window,” said Tess, “out in the garden.” It was more than a shadow, a shape that had streaked by the window. She couldn’t explain what it was.

Tess and Max were sharing a suite at a small, somewhat trendy hotel in London called The Sanborn House. They had gone to meet their mom and dad and Aunt Evie for Christmas break, although their parents hadn’t arrived yet.

Tess would be sleeping in the bedroom. Max had a rollaway cot in the living room. At the moment, Tess was sitting on the antique carpet on the floor of the living room and Max was lying on his freshly made cot. They had checked in at the desk with Aunt Evie, found their hotel room, and obediently unpacked their suitcases.

They were both a little tired from the trip to London. Tess was staring vacantly out the window to the garden. Except she’d noticed something. Or at least she thought she had. It looked like a shape that had streaked quickly past the window—not an animal, something else, shadowy, which had sneaked past, not blown by the wind.

“I didn’t see anything,” said Max immediately, definitively, even though he was sitting up as if he had.

“But,” he added, “there could be a number of explanations for it.” There was a bit of an edge to his voice, as if he was irritated at Tess. And Tess noticed she hadn’t told him, at all, what she’d seen and nonetheless he was rationalizing it for her. Ever logical, he explained, “For instance, a cloud passed across the sun, causing a shadow.”

“We’re in London, there isn’t any sun,” said Tess, not meaning to be funny.

Max hesitated, and then suggested gruffly, as if he wished this conversation would be over, “A large truck passed by in the alley then and altered the light.”

“I don’t think there is an alley,” said Tess. “It looks like there’s just a garden that separates our hotel from the back of the house on the street behind us. I bet the garden’s pretty in the spring,” she added.

“It’s pretty now,” said Max.

It was unusually cold, and the branches of the trees were gilded with ice and an occasional dangling icicle that oddly reflected what little light there was into colored patterns, the way a glass prism would.

“You’re right,” said Tess. “It is pretty. And the icicles are natural holiday tree decorations. I bet Mom would like them. And see those red berries dotting that bush? I wonder what kind of berry bush it is.”

Max almost snapped at her, “Can we look it up before we test one? Or at least ask someone what it is?”

“Promise,” said Tess who started laughing for a second until she realized Max hadn’t meant that to be funny. She hesitated. “You didn’t see anything? Really?!” she asked again. “But, what I saw was, umm”—she didn’t really want to use the word, but she couldn’t help it—“ghostly.”

The wind was blowing, as if in punctuation, a cold and scary wind, rattling the windows.

“Okay, shadowy, then,” said Tess modifying her thought so as not to frighten Max unnecessarily. “You didn’t see it?” she repeated.

But before Max could answer, Aunt Evie burst in to their hotel room without knocking. “Oh my,” she said, “put on your hat and grab your mittens.”

She probably meant, put on your mittens and grab your hat, but neither one of them corrected her.

“I think it’s going to snow,” Aunt Evie said. “It never snows in London. Well, hardly ever. And when it does,” she said, “it’s a very magical time to go out.”

Aunt Evie was wearing a gray and white scarf tied around her neck and tucked stylishly into her gray wool coat.

Max grabbed his hoodie. Aunt Evie shook her head. “Don’t you have something warmer?” she asked, and also nodded to his sneakers and suggested, “Boots?”

Both Tess and Max had lots of warm clothes as they’d been sent back to school in Switzerland in September. Their mom and dad had rented out their apartment in New York City and their mother had moved to Germany to be with their dad who was stationed there, now, in Berlin as the head of the International News Desk.

Tess didn’t really understand why they couldn’t go to the American School in Berlin. But it seemed like their parents needed a little time to try to sort things out.

Tess hated the sound of that. “Sort things out.” She and Max had heard them have a fight one night during dinner, which was very unusual. It was the night their dad had said “family conference” and told them and their mom that he’d accepted the job in Berlin. Tess understood why her mom could get mad about her dad taking the job in Berlin, but she also understood why he took it. It was an amazing opportunity. But they started to have a fight. Tess and Max excused themselves from the dinner table. Shortly thereafter, their mom had left and closed the door to the apartment so loudly the walls seemed to shake, and she didn’t come back for at least four hours.

After that, their parents had been civil with each other but somewhat distant, or at least Tess thought that was the case. Not as affectionate as they had always been.

Their dad left for Berlin. And after some persuasion, which involved flowers arriving regularly, sometimes even twice a week, roses, peonies, lilies, orchids, and late night whispered conversations that Tess and Max only caught a word or two of, their mom decided to join him in Berlin in September.

Tess and Max didn’t push their parents on the decision to send them back to boarding school in Switzerland. Although it did seem to Tess that their mom would spend a fair amount of time alone in Germany, as their dad was also reporting on camera from all points abroad, including Russia and the Middle East.

Their father had become quite well-known. It wasn’t unusual for someone to ask one of them if they were related to Martin Barnes, the TV news guy. And Tess or Max would say, “Yes,” very proudly, “he’s my dad.”

Tess had been told by a friend’s mother that seeing Tess’s father on television made her feel a bit more secure, especially since there was so much uncertainty in the world. “There’s something about your dad that makes me feel calmer,” she said.

Tess was proud to hear this and didn’t add her own feeling, which was sometimes it made her anxious, especially when he was reporting from a country that was experiencing “unrest.” That’s what they called it—the preferred expression around their house “unrest”—which could mean a flood or a war-zone.

Tess smiled and told the woman she was pretty proud of her dad, too.

Tess did think both her dad and mom would be excited about the unusual possibility of a snowstorm in London, even if it was only an hour or two long.

Tess buttoned her coat and pulled her collar up and put her mittens on, and as she did, she swore she saw something out the window again, but she didn’t say anything. She didn’t want Aunt Evie and Max to think she might be imagining things again.

She was quite certain she’d seen it though. A strange shadow and a shape. It was probably just a snow flurry.