Well, here's my story. The same game as before. Again it is a matter of guessing a prominent personality and I have inserted some hints and clues so that it is not impossible. With my two previous releases no one has succeeded yet.
So have fun reading and guessing.
Best regards
Arne
*****
It's 4:30 in the morning. I sit on my motorbike and drive from Wassen over Andermatt up the Furka pass again. It is still pitch dark, but over the Oberalp the first glimmer of light of the rising sun appears. According to the weather forecast it will be a dream day today.
After the pass I park my scooter at the Hotel Belvedere in 2300 m altitude, pack my rucksack with food and the sleeping bag and march off. I only have a bottle of water to drink, but there are small springs with clean mountain water everywhere.
In order to get where I want, I have to march another 4 hours. I have a gulf at the Rhone glacier in approx. 3000 m height, where I'm mining rock crystal. For the canton Valais I got a patent for it at the beginning of the year, so that everything has its order. And so I hike hour by hour uphill, because I want to have a look at my mining site before noon to see what winter has done there in the last seven months.
Completely sweaty I reach the gap around 11 o'clock. It took longer than I thought, but my condition just gets worse with age. I lean my backpack against the rock face and stretch out my tired bones. To the side of me is my gulf, but to get in there I first have to clear away some boulders and a lot of loose rock.
Above me I suddenly hear voices. I look upwards.
Oh, dear. . .! Free climber. The rock up here is already fragile anyway and there these fools must clamber over me in the rock wall around. Quickly I put on my climbing helmet, because I do not want to be killed by a rock, which the two slack off over me. In addition, I move my resting place to the edge of the steep face, because I don't necessarily have to challenge fate.
The screaming in the wall wakes my attention, because lazing in the sun almost made me doze off. Apparently an argument has broken out over me; I hear shreds of a loud argument. Now I see a couple descending and still discussing wildly. It's all about stamina and strength, as the middle-aged man stresses. He is medium-sized, wiry and looks incredibly fit. The young woman in his company is in her mid-twenties, very pretty and has blond hair. She also looks very well trained, but has unmistakably charming female proportions.
"It's enough for me, I'm fed up. The same fuss every day. I can't even sleep in because you have to go up this fucking mountain in the middle of the night. It's enough for me, do what you want, but do it without me," she yells at her companion.
"But listen," he replies. "You must get fit again. Your injuries weren't exactly easy and you have to catch up as quickly as possible. The others have been training in South America for a month and how will you keep up? If you continue like this, the season will be over for you".
"I don't care, I'm just a human being and not a robot. Always training and not taking a break. That's too much for me now."
"So, if you continue to make bitch, then I go into the valley and you can see where you stay. What do you say now?
"Then sneak away, but leave me alone. I stay up here, nobody annoys me all day long: do this, do that, don't do that!
"Well, then I'll go," does her partner (or coach?) say and swings his backpack onto his back. "If you change your mind, you know where to find me. Ciao, salu!"
He nods to me and descends into the valley. The young woman throws her backpack angrily on the ground, settles down on a rock and howls like a castle dog. Somehow she looks familiar to me, but I can't classify her at the moment.
I look in my trouser pockets for a handkerchief, go to her and tap her on the shoulder.
She is scared to death, screams and tilts from her seat. I can catch her just before she hits the stones. I hold her tightly with my arms and that feels damn good. I look deep into her eyes, clear my throat and straighten her up.
"I'm sorry if I frightened you, but I was forced to hear her quarrel." I hand her the handkerchief. "No matter what, I can't see a beautiful woman crying. My name is Arne, by the way, and I'm here to dismantle the crystal."
She rubs her eyes dry, hands me my snow cloth and smiles at me.
I suddenly know who she is. This smile! A sting runs through my heart. That must not be true.
"Salu, I am . . . "
"Pssssttt", I say quickly and put my index finger on her lips. "Don't say anything, I know who you are. But at first I didn't recognize it. I'm used to a different outfit with you."
She laughs.
"Yes, yes, clothes make people. Can I say you?"
"Of course. In the mountains we don't think so much of formalities, but you certainly know that from your parents."
"You know my parents?" she asks me in amazement.
I answer "fleetingly". "I met her from time to time in her active time.
Your mother in Pfronten and your father in Reutte. But they weren't together then, that was a long time ago."
"Oh," she says, "Were you also active in the circus? You don't look familiar to me at all".
"No, no, I was never that good. But I just know a few people. Katja's parents have a cafe in the neighboring village and Maria and Irene grew up on my aunt's neighbor's farm."
"Waaaas, you come from the AllgΓ€u? I know that well."
"Great, we have a topic of conversation there. What are you actually planning to do now?
T. looks at me thoughtfully and bites his lower lip.
"I don't know, but I won't back down this time. So far I've always given in," she insists defiantly.
"Should I get you accommodation in a friend's hotel in Wassen?" I ask her.
She shakes her head violently.
"No, no, if someone from the team or a reporter sees me, it's just going to make the rounds. What are you planning to do?"
I look at her thoughtfully.
"I actually wanted to stay up here for two or three days and mine a few crystals. Then I make jewellery out of them or give them away for all kinds of occasions."
"Interesting. And where do you find the stones?
"Do you see the crack over there? I have to get in there and I can get them out."
T. thinks for a moment.
"Can I stay with you and search with you?
"I don't know. Won't you get into trouble?"
"I don't care. I call and say I won't be back until the day after tomorrow."
I laugh.
"Can't, no net up here."
"Dosen't matter. Then just not. So, Arne, what do you think?"
I look at her. The warm mountain wind ruffles her blond hair and her eyes flash.
"Why not actually? After all, you're old enough to know what you're doing."
She is punching me on the chest.
"Ok! Let's go dig!"
Three and a half hours later we squeeze ourselves out of the gap and enjoy the fresh air. In the narrow gap we were so close to each other that we touched body parts we would have avoided better. More than once I got wet thoughts and my cheeky sass protested against his tight prison.
T., of course, that didn't remain hidden, but instead of leaving the gulf and calming me down, the little slut snuggled up particularly close to me and apparently accidentally rubbed herself against me until I almost exploded. What a clever bitch.
I wash the stone dust from my face at the source, moisten my cloth and stall it to her. She shakes her head. Sighing, I pull her to me and wipe the dirt off her face. She leans against me and looks at me defiantly.
"Well, dirty little maid, isn't that better?" I ask her grinning.
She stretches out her tongue to me.
"Do Harti and Hanni really know what kind of bitch their daughter is?" I ask innocently.
She snarls at me and I fall backwards into the meadow. She sits down on my chest and presses my arms into the grass.
"Woe to you for saying a word to them, then . . . then . . "she says stuttering.
"What then, huh? Say yourself."