Is this fun? Am I having fun?

I think I might be?

JUNE 8, 1978

Two things happened today. I don’t know what to do.

After lunch, Greg turned up at the door and asked me if I wanted a ride to Patty’s. I said sure. When we got to Sparrow Road, he didn’t park in the driveway—he parked at the end of the street and we walked up. I asked why. He said that Patty told him to use the pool, even if she wasn’t there to let him in. But it annoys her dad, so she told him to park down the street and come in through the back gate. That way the neighbors don’t say anything to Mr. Horne about people going in and out of the house when neither of them are home.

I asked him where Patty was, and he said she was out shopping. He said that Eric and Diane would be coming by soon. Diane was doing a shift at the Duchess and Eric was doing “milkman stuff.” (I’ve come to understand that when Eric buys grass and makes deliveries, he calls that being “the milkman.” A few months ago, I would have been more freaked out about that. I’ve grown.)

Anyway, we swam, hung out. Greg is Patty’s boyfriend, so it was fine that we were there. But then there was a noise from inside the house.

He said, “Shit, shit! Grab your stuff!”

He was laughing, but I could tell he was serious. I grabbed my bag and towel and followed him into the cabana.

This is when things got really, really strange.

Mr. Horne and a man came out of the house and sat by the pool, not far from where we were in the cabana, and started talking. The man’s name was Wendel something. He was saying that he hadn’t seen Mr. Horne since Harvard. Mr. Horne started joking, asking how the man had found him. The man said that he had been at his dentist’s office and was leafing through the Bicentennial edition of Life magazine in the waiting room when he saw the picture with Mr. Horne and all of us in it.

Mr. Horne started speaking in German. The man asked why, and Mr. Horne said because whenever he talked about the war, he preferred German in case neighbors could hear, because of the nature of what they did. The man seemed to understand that.

My German isn’t perfect—I’m good enough to basically follow things, but some of it was too advanced/idiomatic. I’m writing down what I remember. I didn’t get all of it.

Something like:

Man: After Berlin, I never heard from you again. I thought the Russians killed you.

Mr. Horne: They almost did.

Man: How long were you in prison there?

Mr. Horne: Eight months.

Man: You’ve done well for yourself.

Mr. Horne: I’ve done all right.

Then they talked about the house for a while, and about some military things I didn’t understand. Also, Greg was trying to distract me and I had to tell him to stop. I caught up a bit later, and I picked up that his last name was Ralph or something like that.