Chapter Two Thousand Six Hundred Forty-Nine
9th December 1977
Potsdam
They had done the exterior shots at the Altes Museum and the Friedrich III Museum the week prior. The Curators of the various Museums had been absolutely horrified by the notion that George Lucas might want to do any filming inside the buildings themselves. They had doubled down on that when they had found out about the scene where the hero of the film, Doctor Henry “Indiana” Jones, was depicted inadvertently driving a lorry into the River Spree.
Instead, they had created an approximation of a museum interior using mostly chipboard, chicken wire, plaster, and a whole lot of paint in a Babelsburg warehouse. Jost could see that it was hardly perfect, but it didn’t need to be. It only needed to look right on film and not cause much trouble tearing it all down once they finished shooting.
Jost was cast as one of the antagonists in the film, Oberst Arnold Toht. Like always, he was also playing the role of Military Consultant and trying to get University Art Students to play at being soldiers convincingly. Fortunately he had some real help this time in the form of his nephew Sabastian and Nikolaus who might as well be. The two of them had come up through the Prussian Institution in Wahlstatt and had even spent some time in the field. Jost had gotten bit roles for them to play. Niko’s equestrianism had landed him in hot water when they had been filming in Tunisia, it seemed that he had shown up the stuntman posing as Indiana Jones during a chase through the desert. Though Niko had gotten yelled at by everyone including Jost himself for taking stupid chances, the scene had been kept in the film. Spielberg, the Director of the film had been surprised that Niko was the Prince of Breslau and, yes, he was a Richthofen for real. Who else was practically raised in the saddle these days? They were getting ready to shoot the scene where Indiana Jones was forced to eat his words about how artifact belonged in museums as he was trying to convince the Curator of whatever museum was supposed to be not to open the Ark of the Covenant. Jost had read the script and knew that the museum staff, the gathered officials, and other assorted witnesses were going to be depicted as having a monumentally bad day.
Harrison Ford, the Actor who George Lucas had cast as Indiana was wandering around. He had heard that the actor had played a role in a movie that Lucas had worked on a few years earlier. It seemed that most of the crew knew Ford from other films where he had been a Carpenter with a thriving side business selling cannabis. Lucas had said that he wanted a relative unknown to play the role of Indiana, and Ford was supposedly the perfect fit. To Jost’s surprise, Ford had seen Der letzte Befehl, The last Command, the Science-Fiction German language gorefest about an alien invasion by hostile forces that Jost had costarred in after The Black Shuck. The Director, this Canadian madman, had encouraged them to use live ammunition which had included everything up to and including anti-tank rockets. Jost knew how to safely conduct a live fire exercise and make it look good. So, the blood-soaked production had a great deal of actual blood even if it had mostly come from an abattoir. However, the over-the-top violence and gore had shocked audiences around the world with it being banned in several countries including the United States. Apparently, the few theaters in that country that showed that movie couldn’t play it often enough.
Jost saw Sabastian walking through the area where the crew had gathered and he was carrying Alice, the young daughter of Henriette who Sabastian had met during the Montreal Olympics last year. Henriette had come to Berlin to visit over the Christmas Holiday. Alice, or Allie as everyone was calling her had a look of bliss as she hugged Sabastian as he introduced her to the cast and crew. Jost’s mother was worried that Sabastian would give up his life in Germany and run off to Canada to be with Henriette. From the look of things, that was a battle that was already over.
11th December 1977
Montreal
The crude graffiti done in hot pink spray paint that had appeared on a wall across from the Church was exactly the sort of thing that would set Margot off.
Le gode de la responsabilité est rarement lubrifié.
Marie Alexandra understood full well what that meant and why it had appeared there. The sex abuse scandals that had rocked the Catholic Church for as long as she could remember had come to Montreal and to say that Margot couldn’t wrap her mind around what was going on was an understatement. Perhaps things would have smoothed out if Marie had not found that writing on the wall to be funny. Whoever had done that certainly had a very particular idea of what justice would look like.
While Marie had not laughed aloud, Margot must have picked up on something from her because on the car ride home she went off on Marie, at length how depraved and ungrateful she was. How it was not a surprise because the fruit never fell far from the tree that they all knew what Marie’s mother was. Because Marie was in the front seat next to the driver she was unable to effectively refute what her grandmother was saying. Marie had realized that Margot had done this by design and had grown angrier over the long minutes before they were dropped off by the town car. Over Marie’s life, she had very seldom wanted to hurt anyone. As the car pulled away, she wanted more than anything to punch her grandmother’s lights out. Her grandfather just stood there quietly. Marie didn’t blame him even if she was disappointed, after decades of living with Margot all he could do was take the path of least resistance.
As Margot saw the look on Marie’s face, she belatedly realized that she really had gone too far this time. It was then that she said exactly the wrong thing in that moment. Marie had no idea what possessed her to say it.
“I don’t want to be around you if you are going to be that way.”
Marie had no idea how long she stood on the sidewalk as it started snowing, repeating the words that her grandmother had said to her. Long enough to start shivering and feeling the pain in the palms of her hands where she had dug her fingernails in. It was in that moment that she resolved to move out before Margot caused her own funeral to come early.