"If they"re all like him him," said Ronda Ray, and rolled her eyes - but she didn"t continue; she decided to let it pa.s.s.

"I think he"s cute," said Lilly.

But Fritz of Fritz"s Act gave Egg nightmares - great shrieks that stiffened my back and tore muscles in my neck; Egg"s arm lashed out and bashed the bedside lamp, his legs thrashed under the sheets, as if the bedclothes were drowning him.

"Egg!" I cried. "It"s just a dream! You"re having a dream!"

"A what what?" he screamed.

"A dream!" I yelled.

"Midgets!" Egg shouted. "They"re under the bed! They"re crawling all around! They"re all over, everywhere!" he howled.

"Jesus G.o.d," Father said. "If they"re just midgets, why does he get so upset?"

"Hush," Mother said, ever fearful of hurting Lilly"s little feelings.

And I lay under the barbell in the morning, sneaking a look at Franny getting out of bed - or getting dressed - and thinking of Iowa Bob. What would he have said about going to Vienna? About Freud"s hotel that somehow needed needed a smart Harvard boy? About the differences a smart bear might make - to a smart Harvard boy? About the differences a smart bear might make - to anyone"s anyone"s prospects for success? I lifted and thought. "It doesn"t matter," Iowa Bob would have said. "Whether we go to Vienna or stay here, it won"t matter." Under all that weight, that"s what I thought Coach Bob would have said. "Here or there," Bob would have said, "we"re screwed down for life." It would be prospects for success? I lifted and thought. "It doesn"t matter," Iowa Bob would have said. "Whether we go to Vienna or stay here, it won"t matter." Under all that weight, that"s what I thought Coach Bob would have said. "Here or there," Bob would have said, "we"re screwed down for life." It would be Father"s Father"s hotel - whether in Dairy or in Vienna. Would nothing, ever, make us more or less exotic than we were? I wondered, with the weight wonderfully taut and rising, and Franny in the corner of my eye. hotel - whether in Dairy or in Vienna. Would nothing, ever, make us more or less exotic than we were? I wondered, with the weight wonderfully taut and rising, and Franny in the corner of my eye.

"I wish you"d take those weights to another room," Franny said. "So I can get dressed by myself, sometimes - for Christ"s sake."

"What do you think about going to Vienna, Franny?" I asked her.

"I think it will be more sophisticated than staying here," Franny said. Completely dressed now, and always so sure of herself, she looked down at me where I struggled to let my bench press down slowly and levelly. "I might even get a room without barbells in it," she added. "Even one without a weight lifter in it," Franny said, blowing lightly into the armpit of my left (and weaker) arm - and getting out of the way when the weights slid first to the left, then to the right, off the bar.

"Jesus G.o.d!" Father shouted upstairs to me, and I thought that if Iowa Bob had still been with us, he would have said that Franny was wrong. Whether Vienna was more sophisticated, or less - whether Franny had a room with barbells or a room with lace - we were inhabitants of one Hotel New Hampshire after another.

Freud"s hotel - or our imperfect picture of Freud"s hotel, via air mail - was called the Gasthaus Freud; it was unclear, from Freud"s correspondence, whether or not the other Freud had ever stayed there. We only knew it was "centrally located," according to Freud - "in the First District!" - but in the all-grey black-and-white photograph that Freud sent, we could barely make out the iron double door, sandwiched between the display cases of a land of candy store. KONDITOREI, said one sign; ZUCKERWAREN, said another; SCHOKOLADEN, promised a third; and over it all - bigger than the faded letters saying, GASTHAUS FREUD - was the word BONBONS.

"What?" said Egg.

"Bonbons," said Franny. "Oh boy."

"Which is the door to the candy store, and which is the door to the hotel?" Frank asked; Frank would always think like a doorman.

"I think you have to live there to know," Franny said.

Lilly got a magnifying gla.s.s and deciphered the name of the street, in funny script, under the street number on the hotel"s double door.

"Krugerstra.s.se," she decided, which at least matched the name of the street in Freud"s address. Father bought a map of Vienna from a travel agency and we located Krugerstra.s.se - in the First District, as Freud had promised; it appeared very central.

"It"s only a block or two from the opera!" Frank cried, enthusiastically.

"Oh boy," Franny said.

The map had little green areas for parks, thin red and blue lines where the streetcars ran, and ornate buildings - grossly out of proportion to the street - to indicate the places of interest.

"It looks like a kind of Monopoly board," Lilly said.

We noted cathedrals, museums, the town hall, the university, the Parliament.

"I wonder where the gangs hang out," said Junior Jones, looking over the streets with us.

The gangs gangs?" said Egg. "The who who?"

"The tough guys," said Junior Jones. "The guys with guns and blades, man."

"The gangs," Lilly repeated, and we stared at the map as if the streets would indicate their darkest alleys to us.

"This is Europe Europe," Frank said, with disgust. "Maybe there aren"t aren"t gangs." gangs."

"It"s a city, isn"t it?" Junior Jones said.

But on the map it looked like a toy city, to me - with pretty places of interest, and all the green spots where nature had been arranged for pleasure.

"Probably in the parks," said Franny, biting her lower lip. The gangs hang out in the parks."

"s.h.i.t," I said.

"There won"t be any gangs!" Frank cried. "There will be music! And pastry! And the people do a lot of bowing, and they dress differently!" We stared at him, but we knew he"d been reading up on Vienna; he"d gotten a head start on the books Father kept bringing home.

"Pastry and music and people bowing bowing all the time, Frank?" Franny said. "Is that what it"s like?" Lilly was using her magnifying gla.s.s on the map now - as if people would spring to life, in miniature, on the paper; and they"d either be bowing, and dressed differently, or they"d be cruising in gangs. all the time, Frank?" Franny said. "Is that what it"s like?" Lilly was using her magnifying gla.s.s on the map now - as if people would spring to life, in miniature, on the paper; and they"d either be bowing, and dressed differently, or they"d be cruising in gangs.

"Well," Franny said. "At least we can be pretty sure there won"t be any black black gangs." Franny was still angry with Junior Jones for sleeping with Ronda Ray. gangs." Franny was still angry with Junior Jones for sleeping with Ronda Ray.

"s.h.i.t," Junior said. "You better hope there are black gangs. Black gangs are the best gangs, man. Those white gangs have inferiority complexes," Junior said. "And there"s nothing worse than a gang with an inferiority complex."

"A what what?" said Egg. No doubt he thought that an inferiority complex was a weapon; sometimes, I guess, it is is.

"Well, I think it"s going to be nice," said Frank, grimly.

"Yes, it will will be," Lilly said, with a humourlessness akin to Frank"s. be," Lilly said, with a humourlessness akin to Frank"s.

"I can"t see it," Egg said, seriously. "I can"t see it, so I don"t know what what it"s going to be like." it"s going to be like."

"It"ll be okay," Franny said. "I don"t think it"s going to be great, but it"ll be all right."

It was odd, but Franny seemed the most influenced by Iowa Bob"s philosophy - which, to a degree, had become Father"s philosophy. This was odd because Franny was frequently the most sarcastic to Father - and the most sarcastic about Father"s plans. Yet when she was raped, Father had said to her - incredibly incredibly! I thought - that when he he had a bad day, he tried to see if he could construe it as the luckiest day of his life. "Maybe this is the luckiest day of your life," he had said to her; I was amazed that she seemed to find this reverse thinking useful. She was a had a bad day, he tried to see if he could construe it as the luckiest day of his life. "Maybe this is the luckiest day of your life," he had said to her; I was amazed that she seemed to find this reverse thinking useful. She was a kind of parrot of other tidbits of Father"s philosophy. "It was just a little event among so many," I heard her say - to Frank, about scaring Iowa Bob to death. And once, about Chipper Dove, I heard Father say, "He probably has a most unhappy life." Franny actually agreed with him! kind of parrot of other tidbits of Father"s philosophy. "It was just a little event among so many," I heard her say - to Frank, about scaring Iowa Bob to death. And once, about Chipper Dove, I heard Father say, "He probably has a most unhappy life." Franny actually agreed with him!

I felt much more nervous about going to Vienna than Franny seemed to feel, and I was ever conscious of what feelings Franny and I didn"t absolutely share - because it mattered to me that I stay close to her.

We all knew that Mother thought the idea was crazy, but we could not ever make her disloyal to Father - although we tried.

"We won"t understand the language," Lilly said to Mother.

"The what what?" Egg cried.

"The language!" Lilly said. "They speak German in Vienna."

"You"ll all go to an English-speaking school," Mother said.

"There will be weird kids in a school like that," I said. "Everyone will be a foreigner."

"We"ll be the foreigners," Franny said. be the foreigners," Franny said.

"In an English-speaking school," I said, "the whole place will be full of misfits."

"And people from the government," said Frank. "Diplomats and amba.s.sadors will send their kids there. The kids will be all f.u.c.ked up."

"Who could be more f.u.c.ked up than the kids at the Dairy School, Frank?" Franny asked.

"Whoa!" said Junior Jones. "There"s f.u.c.ked up and then there"s foreign foreign and f.u.c.ked up." and f.u.c.ked up."

Franny shrugged; so did Mother.

"We"ll still be a family, family," Mother said. "The main part of your lives will be your family - just like now." Mother said. "The main part of your lives will be your family - just like now."

And that seemed to please everyone. We busied ourselves with the books Father brought from the library, and the travel agency brochures. We reread the short but elated messages from Freud:GOOD YOU COMING! BRING ALL KIDS AND PETS! LOTS OF ROOM. CENTRALLY LOCATED. GOOD SHOPPING FOR GIRLS (HOW MANY GIRLS?) AND PARKS FOR THE BOYS AND PETS TO PLAY IN. BRING MONEY. MUST RENOVATE - WITH YOUR a.s.sISTANCE. YOU"LL LIKE THE BEAR. A SMART BEAR MAKES ALL THE DIFFERENCE. NOW WE CAN WORK ON THE AMERICAN AMERICAN AUDIENCE. WHEN WE UPGRADE THE CLIENTELE, THEN WE"LL HAVE A HOTEL TO BE PROUD OF. I HOPE YOUR ENGLISH STILL GOOD IS. HA HA! BEST TO LEARN A LITTLE GERMAN, YOU KNOW? REMEMBER MIRACLES DON"T GET BUILT IN A NIGHT, BUT IN A COUPLE NIGHTS EVEN BEARS CAN BE QUEENS. HA HA! I GOT OLD - THAT WAS THE PROBLEM. NOW WE"LL BE OKAY. NOW WE SHOW THE b.a.s.t.a.r.dS SONSOFb.i.t.c.hES AND c.o.c.kSUCKER n.a.z.iS WHAT A GOOD HOTEL IS! HOPE THE KIDS DON"T HAVE COLDS, AND DON"T FORGET TO GIVE PETS NECESSARY SHOTS. AUDIENCE. WHEN WE UPGRADE THE CLIENTELE, THEN WE"LL HAVE A HOTEL TO BE PROUD OF. I HOPE YOUR ENGLISH STILL GOOD IS. HA HA! BEST TO LEARN A LITTLE GERMAN, YOU KNOW? REMEMBER MIRACLES DON"T GET BUILT IN A NIGHT, BUT IN A COUPLE NIGHTS EVEN BEARS CAN BE QUEENS. HA HA! I GOT OLD - THAT WAS THE PROBLEM. NOW WE"LL BE OKAY. NOW WE SHOW THE b.a.s.t.a.r.dS SONSOFb.i.t.c.hES AND c.o.c.kSUCKER n.a.z.iS WHAT A GOOD HOTEL IS! HOPE THE KIDS DON"T HAVE COLDS, AND DON"T FORGET TO GIVE PETS NECESSARY SHOTS.Since Sorrow was our only pet - and he needed help, but not a shot - we wondered if Freud thought we still had Earl.

"Of course not," Father said. "He"s just speaking generally, he"s just trying to be helpful."

"Make sure Sorrow gets his shots, Frank," Franny said, but Frank was getting better about Sorrow; he could occasionally be teased about the new restoration, and he seemed to be committed to the task of refashioning Sorrow - in a cheerful pose - for Egg. We were not allowed to see the gross dog"s transformation, of course, but Frank himself seemed ever cheerful - upon returning from the bio lab - so that we could only hope that, this time, Sorrow would be "nice."

Father read a book about Austrian anti-Semitism and wondered if Freud had made the right decision in naming the hotel the Gasthaus Freud; Father wondered, from what he read, if the Viennese even Jilted the other Freud. He also couldn"t help wondering who the "b.a.s.t.a.r.ds sonsofb.i.t.c.hes and c.o.c.ksucker n.a.z.is" were.

"I can"t help wondering how old old Freud is," Mother said. They determined that if he"d been in his middle or late forties in 1939, he would be only in his middle sixties now. But Mother said that he Freud is," Mother said. They determined that if he"d been in his middle or late forties in 1939, he would be only in his middle sixties now. But Mother said that he sounded sounded older. In his messages to us, she meant. older. In his messages to us, she meant.HI! QUICK IDEA: YOU THINK IT BEST TO RESTRICT CERTAIN ACTIVITIES TO CERTAIN FLOORS? MAYBE HAVE CERTAIN KIND OF CLIENTELE ON FOURTH FLOOR, OTHER KIND IN BAs.e.m.e.nT? DELICATE MATTER TO DISCRIMINATE, YOU THINK? CURRENT DAYTIME AND NIGHTTIME CLIENTELE OF DIFFERENT - I WON"T SAY "WARRING" - INTERESTS. HA HA! ALL THAT WILL CHANGE WITH REMODELING. AND ONCE THEY STOP THE f.u.c.kING DIGGING UP THE STREET. JUST A FEW MORE YEARS OF WAR RESTORATION, THEY SAY. WAIT TILL YOU MEET THE BEAR: NOT JUST SMART, BUT YOUNG YOUNG! WHAT A TEAM WE"LL BE TOGETHER! WHAT YOU MEAN, "IS FREUD A REALLY WELL-LIKED NAME IN VIENNA?" DID YOU GO TO HARVARD OR NOT??!! HA HA."He doesn"t sound necessarily older older," said Franny, "but he sounds crazy."

"He just doesn"t use English very well," Father said. "It"s not his language."

So we studied German. Franny and Frank and I took courses at the Dairy School, and brought the records home to play to Lilly; Mother worked with Egg. She started by just getting him familiar with the names of the streets and the places of interest on the tourist map.

"Lobkowitzplatz," Mother would say.

"What?" Egg would say.

Father was supposed to be teaching himself, but he seemed to be making the least progress. "You kids have to learn it," he kept saying. "I don"t have to go to school, meet new kids, all of that."

"But we"re going to an English-speaking school," Lilly said.

"Even so," Father said. "You"ll need the German more than I will."

"But you"re you"re going to run a hotel," Mother said to him. going to run a hotel," Mother said to him.

"I"m going to start off going after the American audience," Father said. "We"re trying to drum up an American clientele, first - remember?"

"Better all brush up on our American, too," said Franny.

Frank was getting the German more quickly than any of us. It seemed to suit him: every syllable was p.r.o.nounced p.r.o.nounced, the verbs fell like grapeshot at the ends of sentences, the umlauts were a form of dressing up; and the whole idea of words having gender gender must have appealed to Frank. By the late winter he was (pretentiously) chatting in German, purposefully bewildering us all, correcting our attempts to answer him, then consoling our failures by telling us that he"d take care of us when we were "over there." must have appealed to Frank. By the late winter he was (pretentiously) chatting in German, purposefully bewildering us all, correcting our attempts to answer him, then consoling our failures by telling us that he"d take care of us when we were "over there."

"Oh boy," Franny said. That"s the part that really gets to me. Having Frank Frank take us all to school, talk to the bus drivers, order in the restaurants, take all the phone calls. Jesus, now that I"m finally going abroad, I don"t want to be dependent on take us all to school, talk to the bus drivers, order in the restaurants, take all the phone calls. Jesus, now that I"m finally going abroad, I don"t want to be dependent on him him!"

But Frank seemed to flower at the preparations for moving to Vienna. No doubt he was encouraged by having been given a second chance with Sorrow, but he also seemed genuinely interested in studying studying Vienna. After dinner he read aloud to us, selected excerpts from what Frank called the "plums" of Viennese history; Ronda Ray and the Uricks listened too - curiously, because they knew they Vienna. After dinner he read aloud to us, selected excerpts from what Frank called the "plums" of Viennese history; Ronda Ray and the Uricks listened too - curiously, because they knew they weren"t weren"t going and their future with Fritz"s Act was unclear. going and their future with Fritz"s Act was unclear.

After two months of history lessons, Frank gave us an oral examination on the interesting characters around Vienna at the time of the Crown Prince"s suicide at Mayerling (which Frank had earner read to us, in full detail, moving Ronda Ray to tears). Franny said that Prince Rudolf was becoming Frank"s hero - "because of his clothes." Frank had portraits of Rudolf hi his room: one in hunting costume - a thin-headed young man with an oversized moustache, draped with furs and smoking a cigarette as thick as a finger - and another in uniform, wearing the Order of the Golden Fleece, his forehead as vulnerable as a baby"s, his beard as sharp as a spade.

"All right, Franny," Frank began, "this one is for you. He was a composer of genius, perhaps the world"s greatest organist, but he was a hick - a complete rube in the imperial city - and he had a stupid habit of falling in love with young girls."

"Why is that stupid?" I asked.

"Shut up," said Frank. "It"s stupid, and this is Franny"s question."

"Anton Bruckner," Franny said. "He was stupid, all right."

"Very," said Lilly.

"Your turn, Lilly," said Frank. "Who was "the Flemish peasant"?"

"Oh, come on," said Lilly, "that"s too easy. Give it to Egg."

"It"s too hard for Egg," Franny said.

"What is?" Egg said. is?" Egg said.

"Princess Stephanie," said Lilly, tiredly, "the daughter of the King of Belgium, and Rudolf"s wife."

"Now Father," Frank said.

"Oh boy," Franny said, because Father was almost as bad at history as he was at German.

"Whose music was so widely loved that even peasants copied the composer"s beard?" Frank asked.

"Jesus, you"re strange, Frank," Franny said.

"Brahms?" Father guessed, and we all groaned.

"Brahms had a beard like like a peasant"s," Frank said. "Whose beard did the peasants a peasant"s," Frank said. "Whose beard did the peasants copy copy?"

"Strauss!" Lilly and I yelled.

"The poor drip," said Franny. "Now I get to ask Frank Frank one." one."

"Shoot," said Frank, shutting his eyes tight and scrunching up his face.

"Who was Jeanette Heger?" Franny asked.

"She was Schnitzler"s "Sweet Girl," " Frank said, blushing.

"What"s a "Sweet Girl," Frank?" Franny asked, and Ronda Ray laughed.