Young Adolf by Frank P. Daversa

Author:Frank P. Daversa [F P. Daversa; J V. Franciosa, Jr.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781467026154
Publisher: AuthorHouse
Published: 2011-11-21T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 7

FRAU CICHINI RAN her boarding house quite differently than Frau Sekira. Frau Sekira ran her house as a business, her interest in her tenants motivated by her desire to protect her assets. Petronella Cichini could not have provided a greater contrast, not only in her motive for lodging boys, but also in her attitude toward her residents.

Perhaps the only similarity between the two landladies was their austere manner. Both wore their hair in severe buns that stretched their brows impossibly tight. Frau Sekira likely did so in an effort to smooth her age-wrinkled brow, but Frau Cichini, was nearly thirty years younger. Her bun was still robustly brown, and her brow needed stretching no more than her figure needed a tight corset to keep her trim. A woman of middle years, she had married for money, a much older man who kept to the confines of his bed.

Her husband’s infirmity had left his wife with no children of her own. Although she was well-provided-for, she offered lodging to young boys in Steyr, not as her occupation, but as more of a hobby, treating the boys as her pets. She was always very curious to know what Adolf had learned in school that day or what occupied his hours when he was in his room with the door latched.

Adolf was a private person. He had appreciated the fact that Frau Sekira had respected his independence. She had only interfered in his business that single night, after he struck Handel, and Adolf had understood that she had done such because she was protecting her business. Frau Cichini, however, constantly sought to meddle in his affairs.

“You received a few letters today, Adolf, one from your mother and one from a Ms. Faveshra? Well, I left them both on your desk.” It was almost as if the woman had been waiting just around the corner from the front door all day for his return. He could hardly maneuver around her imposing presence to get to a bench where he could take his boots off. In fact, the thought had crossed his mind to simply track mud through the house to his room, but then he would truly never rid himself of this woman’s attention.

Adolf had just returned from a particularly long day of school. He had no desire even to acknowledge Frau Cichini’s question. He did not like Frau Cichini’s use of his first name, and he certainly did not like her scrutiny of his mail. Ms. Faveshra was none of her business. The woman should have seen the letters were addressed to him and been content to leave them for him without comment. She was too curious by far.

“Thank you,” he said, starting toward his room. “If you will excuse me, I have a great deal of schoolwork to do before dinner.” Adolf hoped that his tone had not betrayed the shortness of his temper.

She followed him, chatting. “Is she pretty, Adolf? Does she smell like flowers? Her letters certainly do. How very urban of her.

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