The Closet

Chapter 16

Marius was an old man.  He had been born in 1927 and his 80+ years had taken a toll on his body, but overall he was still in good shape. He had been a bricklayer and a carpenter for most of his life and those occupations both strengthen the physique and debilitate it in turn. He was fortunate in having avoided injury and remained physically healthy and fit. He had retired in the “New” Germany some 20 years before and had received retirement income from the Government every month. His health needs would have been provided for, if he had health needs, but he rarely ever saw a doctor. When he did visit physicians, they were always impressed with his physical state.

Marius’ wife was equally well, and together they had celebrated the birth of children and grandchildren and great-grandchildren, exulting with them in their successes and weeping with them in their trials. They had met just after World War II had been lost and the Allies had arrived. Marius had no family and Alexandra’s father had brought him home one night to feed him dinner. He returned often and soon they were married and lived with her parents. In the aftermath of the war, housing was critical and they were grateful that her parents were so generous with them.  Eventually they moved to their own apartment, but when Alexandra’s parents died, the house became hers and they moved back into it.

            Marius’ father-in-law had shared with him a great secret. The older man had been instrumental in construction of a great tunnel network beneath the ground to the north of Mannheim. There had been natural caves that both men had discovered in their youth, but Marius had never pursued the exploration while Alexandra’s father had known the caves well. During the First World War, he had been responsible for much of the construction that had been done, enlarging the natural caves to serve the purposes of the Army. In his declining years, he had become the caretaker of the tunnel system, and as he realized that he would not be physically able to watch over them much longer, he recruited Marius to take over the responsibility.

            Most of the tunnel system was just empty passages, but there were several entrances that he periodically watched over, and there were three storage chambers that had been locked since before the Second World War had ended.  The entrance to the caves that had been there since before anyone could remember was in the middle of a nearby farm on which had been constructed housing for the American military families that followed the troops stationed there after the war. Alexandra’s family home had been built next to a second entrance to the caves. Her father had been quite secretive about the entrance and she wasn’t allowed to tell her friends of it.  And truth to tell, it was so dark and so deep that she had never explored very far into it.  It was something she took for granted and it wasn’t until Marius became the tunnel’s caretaker that she even thought about it again.

             She wasn’t even sure why the tunnels needed a caretaker. Marius had told her that it was his patriotic duty to keep watch over the tunnels, and her father had always done the same so it seemed an ordinary thing. 

            Marius had been the caretaker now for decades. After all this time, he too began to wonder why the tunnels needed someone to monitor them. He had not tried to find a successor, and his solution was that when he died, if someone discovered the system, it would be up to them what they should do with the discovery. For him however, the responsibility had been his for most of his life and he would continue with it as long as he was able. He had come to actually enjoy his time underground, ambling along with his thoughts and his memories. He had patrolled the underground corridors weekly most of the time, and he realized that the physical activity was one of the things that kept him healthy through the years. 

            Decades had gone by without his noticing any changes. From the marvel of the underground river to the ruins of the Ammunition Arsenal to the ladders that extended into the several kasernes to the other natural entrance that had been found to the cave system in the cemetery, he knew them as he knew the hallways of his own home. He had been to the IG Farben entrance and had seen the many storage vaults, including those with the locked doors.  He had walked from his own cave entrance in the opposite direction to the old Luftwaffe airfield that the Americans had made their own, and in all those many years, he had never seen a sign of a living soul. His father-in-law had made ladders to allow him access to the various ladder-shafts in the system, and he would periodically climb the old steel ladders to make sure that the entrance doors were secure.

            Then, a week ago, something occurred that he did not know how to deal with. While making his rounds one evening, he had found a rope ladder hanging down from the cave entrance that he had played around as a boy. He had helped to build the house over the top of that entrance and conceal it, and it was completely in the hands of the Americans. He did not know what to do. He climbed up his aluminum ladder and took down the ropes that had been hung from the steel rung. He hoped this would be enough to discourage whoever was entering his domain. 

            In the early days, he actually patrolled with a Luger pistol in the event he found the tunnels threatened, but had long ago foregone a weapon. It had been so long ago that he had not considered in decades what he should do if he found someone in the system. There was no one to report to and his mission had been to protect the secret. Now he began to wonder if the secret was still worth protecting.

            That morning he had felt a grim foreboding. He was numbly aware that others had penetrated these remains of a bygone time. He began to climb down through the cave entrance hidden in his own garden shed when he heard, far off, a banging coming from the tunnels. He opened the lock on his entrance into the tunnel system and began to follow the clamor. The noise began as a far off hammering, but became a booming report echoing through the corridors. He arrived in the tunnel that harbored the storage chambers, and he turned into the passage with the door that had the most ominous legend on it. He knew from the tales his father-in-law had told him what was probably behind it, and the shame that descended on him as a German, when he thought of its contents, had always driven him to avoidance.

            Now he looked at the open door. His mixed emotions left him deeply troubled, but the action he had been programmed to perform for half-a-century led him to contain the intrusion if possible. Reflexively, he shut the door and threw the bolt, picked up the padlock lying by the door, and fastened it to the hasp on the bolt. He heard the banging from the inside of the door, but conflicted and ashamed, he walked away. 

            At the hub where all the tunnels converged, he removed the aluminum ladder, and as he had done the week before, removed the ladder that was hanging there. He put the aluminum ladder away, and then began walking slowly home. He needed to think. The activity had tired him and thinking was not as easy as it had once been.