Markus Seidel - The vanished village

I rang the bell. No one answered. Then I saw that the door was ajar and entered the house. Apparently it was empty, at least not a person could be seen or heard. I went through the rooms that were on the lower floor - living room, kitchen, dining room, storage room (I didn't dare go down to the basement) - but I didn't find anyone anywhere. Then, suddenly, I heard someone singing. It came from one of the upstairs rooms. I went up the stairs, step by step. The singing got louder. At the top, I turned left and stood in the doorway to the room where the boy was sitting and singing.

He was about my age, about eleven years old, had short blond hair and wore small, round, red glasses. His jeans had quite a lot of patches, not only on his knees, and they seemed a bit too small for him. At first he didn't even notice me; he was sitting on the floor and drawing something on a piece of paper, singing to himself. But then he looked up and looked at me in wonder.

"Where did you suddenly come from?", he asked. "I didn't hear you. Who are you?"

"I'm Max," I said.

"Tom," he said, putting the pen down.

"Do you live here?", I asked.

"No. Do you?"

I shook my head.

"So what are you doing here?" Tom wanted to know.

"I don't know," I said, "I've never been here before."

"Me neither."

I told him how I got here. Tom was amazed. And then he told his story, and it was at least as strange as mine: That morning he had been playing in his room with a school friend when he wanted to pull out a puzzle from under his bed. So he crawled under it, he couldn't get at the puzzle any other way, and when he finally had it and had crawled out again, he was no longer at home, but here in this room. It's a really crazy story.

The whole thing was less than two hours ago, and I wondered why he sat so calmly on the floor, singing and painting.

"Aren't you afraid?" I asked him.

"Of what?" Tom looked at me in wonder.

"Well, I mean, you're not at home anymore, you're somewhere else where you don't know anybody."

Tom didn't say anything, he just looked at me like he was thinking, then he said:

"Well, I'm not alone, if that's what you're thinking. The whole house is full of children, there are children in every room playing. I know them all. Let me show you around." We went through the huge house, from one door to the other. In each of the rooms there were indeed several children, and all seemed to be comfortable, not a single one of them cried, all laughed and played.

"Where are you all from?" I asked Tom.

"Well, where do you think?" he shouted. "But suddenly we were here, with Frau SCHIMPERGLANZ. We have it good here."

SCHIMPERGLANZ - I had just read this strange name on the bell!

"And your parents? Where are they?", I wanted to know.

Tom shrugged his shoulders. "No idea."

"Don't you miss her at all?"

"Frau SCHIMPERGLANZ is here. She'll take care of everything."

"Is she here all alone, this woman SCHIMPERGLANZ?", I asked.

"Yes", Tom replied. "She has everything under control, if that's what you mean. She is the best person in the world."

That sounded funny to me. She's the best person in the world. I mean, he barely knew her, how could he be convinced she was the best person in the world? Just when I was about to ask this, a bell rang out.

"Dinner is served," cried Tom, beaming. "Spaghetti, I think."

"Did Frau SCHIMPERGLANZ cook this too?"

"Of course, who else?!" he exclaimed. "Frau SCHIMPERGLANZ is downstairs in the kitchen. Haven't you seen her yet?"

He ran to the stairs leading down. Suddenly the doors opened everywhere and the children came streaming out.

"Are you coming?" Tom asked me. I nodded; of course I wanted to, above all I wanted to see that woman SCHIMPERGLANZ who was always being talked about. Together we went down the wide stairs, Tom opened the kitchen door and there she stood: Frau SCHIMPERGLANZ.

She was wearing a green apron, which went over her knees, her white hair had been tied in a braid. She was quite small, perhaps only a head taller than me, a bit chubby, and she had friendly eyes and a friendly face. I liked her right away, she reminded me a little of my own grandmother, daddy's mummy, who we always call "Granny Poma". But of course it wasn't her, even though the first moment I saw Mrs. SCHIMPERGLANZ I thought it was Oma Poma. When I saw her, I knew that she would mean well with us. She was up to no harm and nothing would happen to us here. I also noticed that it was her who smelled of vanilla. Why didn't I see her standing in the kitchen earlier? I did see her standing in the kitchen.

"Well, my dears," she greeted us, as if she was expecting not only Tom, but also me, but that could not be possible, because we didn't know each other at all. "Are you hungry, too?"

Tom nodded and shouted, "And how!"

"And what about you, Max?"

"How did you know my name?" I wanted to know. I was quite taken aback. Frau SCHIMPERGLANZ laughed.

"You're amazed, aren't you?" she said. "Well, sit down then, you two. We're having spaghetti. You like that, don't you?"

Oh yes, we did! And even though I would have liked to know how she knew me, I didn't ask any more questions. Maybe she'd tell me yet.

Together with Frau SCHIMPERGLANZ we went into the dining room. There was a huge table here, it was at least fifteen metres long, and at this table the children sat in front of their plates and looked up expectantly.

We ate mountains of spaghetti; I had not known that my hunger had been so great. Had I ever eaten so delicious? Mrs. SCHIMPERGLANZ was really a wonderful cook, I must say. I forgot everything around me, forgot that I was sitting in a house I didn't know and that my parents and siblings would be looking for me. I forgot all that.

Frau SCHIMPERGLANZ gave us as much lemonade as we wanted, and after dinner we were allowed to eat chocolate pudding as much as we wanted. Afterwards we all cleared the table, the mountains of dishes piled up in the kitchen were impressive. Finally everybody ran back to the rooms. Only Tom and I stayed behind. We stood in the kitchen, Mrs. SCHIMPERGLANZ put all the dishes in a dishwasher, which didn't seem to get full until the very last plate had disappeared.

After the meal Tom and I played all kinds of games with Frau SCHIMPERGLANZ for half an eternity, games that she thought up. Frau SCHIMPERGLANZ was really a strange woman, by which I don't mean that she was somehow strange, no, she was very nice and always had great ideas for games, she always thought up something new; Tom and I felt quite comfortable with her (otherwise I would have been homesick immediately). Besides, there were a lot of toys here, you didn't know what to play with first.

We had played for at least two hours when Frau SCHIMPERGLANZ looked at us both and spoke in a serious voice:

"Max and Tom, I have something to tell you now. You must have asked yourselves why you are here, with me, in this house. ...you and the other children." I nodded. Frau SCHIMPERGLANZ made a mysterious face: "I will now tell you what this is all about." She took a short break and looked out of the window; I had the feeling that she was far away at that moment, thinking somewhere else. Then she continued: "I'll tell you about the vanished village."

The vanished village - what was that?

"In the vanished village," Frau SCHIMPERGLANZ continued, "87 people lived, there were 27 houses. One day the first house disappeared and nobody knew what had happened to it. Suddenly there was an empty spot where it had stood. And then one house after another disappeared. One of the last houses left is this one, the house we are now in."

"What do you mean they're gone?" I asked. "Where did they go?"

"I cannot tell you that," replied Frau SCHIMPERGLANZ. "They simply disappeared. One only knows: they are gone."