Chapter 11: Travelogue

Disclaimer: Written in 2001, this story was inspired by characters and situations created by a certain author who discourages fan fiction.

Writer Contacts: To contact Wiebke (and especially if you would like to link to this site or any of the stories), email wiebke@juno.com.

Wolfgang stood up and walked over to a bookcase and scanned the titles on the shelf distractedly. "Fortunately, it didn't last. I came up with a plan and thank goodness it worked."

"What did you do?" Louis asked, taking a seat.

Wolfgang remained standing. "I left Vienna. I formulated a pack of lies and I left Vienna. I was still in complete control of my estate, operating it remotely, but I was no longer to be seen." He resumed his seat. "London, Paris, St. Petersburg, Amsterdam, Rome, Prague... I went and saw them all. Actually I did more than see them. I lived in these places. I learned the languages I did not know. I learned the cultures, the architecture, the foods -- whatever life was about, I tried to learn it."

Louis nodded in understanding. He remembered his travels across Europe, first with Claudia and later in those endless, soulless nights with Armand. "And meanwhile the music? You still followed it?"

"Ah, yes!" Wolfgang exclaimed. "I didn't even mention it, but you are quite perceptive. I used my traveling as a means of following the musical scene. I would go on long trips just to hear works by a certain composer or to see a great musician play. For example, Paganini -- I followed him like a dog. I couldn't get enough of him because you see, I was conscious that one day, he would be gone. So would everyone. And so I had to listen, do you understand? Really listen!"

"I understand. And how long did you continue these travels of yours?" Louis asked.

"Almost twenty years. In 1828 I heard Paganini was in Vienna and so I returned. I was not myself, however, but rather I was a cousin of the supposedly deceased Wolfgang von Stroheim." Wolfgang shrugged. "I'm sure you're familiar with the ruse. In any case, yes, I returned to Vienna and that is where I spent the next 90 years.

"I can't say I really did anything spectacular with my lifetime -- no great deeds, no tomes of philosophy. Mostly I followed my interest in music. I supported many composers and performers with ready cash, nearly always anonymously. I attended the balls, the operas, the symphonies. I read libraries worth of books. What else was there to do?"

"I might also ask," Louis interjected politely, "who there was to enjoy these things with?"

Wolfgang was suddenly staring. He swallowed. "No one, Louis. No one. And it made it difficult eventually, don't you see, to be so alone and caught in these routines, the flow of the culture, the music, the books, but not to have anyone to share it with, really share it with... absolutely maddening. I came to thinking none of it meant anything anymore, it was just a game to me, to see how well I could keep up my act, to see how long I could keep swimming in the deep sea, as it were.

"Eventually I had to stop but not because I was sinking, but because the 'sea' as it were, was changing. I had to leave Vienna. I couldn't survive there anymore. I needed to get my money into other banks, to overhaul my business operations, and above all, I had to leave it behind me and begin again. The first World War forced my hand. I couldn't stand it. The bombs. The gas. The soldiers. It was... too much for me to watch, this new sort of war. I could not bear to see it. And so I left."

Wolfgang's eyes had a faraway look. Louis recognized it: Homesickness.

"You would like to go back, wouldn't you?" he asked.

Wolfgang nodded slowly. "Yes, I would. But..." His words trailed off, his thought unspoken. "In any case I'd like to tell you the rest, just to get it over with. Let me see. Yes, I left. I packed up and left Europe, not just Vienna. And where did I go? Why, America, of course. That would be a challenge, I told myself!

"I was right. America and its modernity required me to expand my bag of tricks and learn many things I had not learned before. It was no longer enough to pose as some sort of European aristocrat. I had to assemble a more specific identity. I had to come up with a 'front' as it were and assimilate myself in a new world."

Louis knew exactly the feeling Wolfgang was describing. Lying was second-nature to vampires. "But where did you live? Here in New Orleans?"

Wolfgang laughed. "Here? Oh, no, I've only been here a year or so. No, I went to New York." He held up his hand. "I know, I know, big change but I thought I needed it. I swear it nearly killed me, taking in that city. The difference between Vienna and New York, big, brash 1920 New York... is unfathomable."

"But I did do it. In the 40s I moved to Chicago. In the 50s and 60s I wandered mostly, just seeing the entire country, coast to coast. Finally in the late 60s I came to San Francisco. I was there until--"

"You were there?" Louis interrupted, standing up. "In San Francisco?????"

Wolfgang nodded.

"So was I!"