: Adrian F. Grando
: The son of the vanilla baron
: novum publishing
: 9781642688429
: 1
: CHF 16.10
:
: Erzählende Literatur
: English
: 334
: Wasserzeichen
: PC/MAC/eReader/Tablet
: ePUB
In the mid-1930s, 16-year-old Eric Gabriel dares to move to the French colony of Madagascar to finally be reunited with his father, who successfully runs a vanilla plantation there. Unaware of his grandfather's history as a pirate and steeped in the traditions of a generation of seafarers, Eric is confronted with the ominous reality of rebellious locals, local uprisings and the intentions of Nazi Germany. In this turbulent environment, Eric seeks support in his first love and the brotherly friendship with a young Malagasy from the workers' village. While he searches for his place in the hierarchy of his father's company, the unknown past of his family threatens to catch up with him.

 

Prologue II

1918-1936

"What the hell is this guy thinking? Who does he think he is?"

Rémy threw the damned letter on the table with contempt, clenched his fists and stood up to move a little to catch his breath. It was unbearable. He had read through that damned letter from his father for the umpteenth time and each time his anger had boiled up anew. He just couldn't believe it. Rémy breathed in and out deeply. He tried to calm down as he circled the dining table in the middle of the kitchen again.

"Rémy, please, calm down a bit, keep your voice down, you'll wake the little one up with your fussing," Sabine, his wife, intervened."And to be honest, there's nothing you can do about this situation. The sooner you accept it, the sooner we can talk about it soberly!"

"Talk about it soberly! It's easy for you to talk. It's not your father. You have no idea what it was like to grow up like that. And now, after your mother's death of all things, he's suddenly come forward. For years he didn't want to know anything about us. His life project in Madagascar was more important to him. He only thought about himself and his damn property. I can't stand him, I hate him!"

Rémy sat down again and buried his face in his hands. This simply couldn't be true.

"Don't sin, Rémy! How can you hate him? You don't even know him!" Sabine tried to calm her husband down."Maybe it took your mother's death for him to try again. She was no longer prepared to reconcile. Her hatred literally ate her up, you said so yourself. So stop and let bygones be bygones.You can no longer change her, but you can reconcile with her, and that might open the way to your father. Look, he wrote in the letter that he regrets some things. He's reaching out to you. Don't be so stubborn!"

Sabine put her hands on Rémy's shoulders, kissed him gently on the neck and left the kitchen. She knew that it was now time to leave her husband alone so that he could sort out his thoughts.

Rémy lingered a moment longer in his pensive position. He sensed that his wife Sabine had not just tried to reassure him, but had given him an honest perspective. Nevertheless, he refused to take the first step towards reconciliation. The wounds of the past weighed heavily on him and the thirst for revenge throbbed deep in his soul. His childhood without a father had been marked by misunderstandings, anger and the feeling of abandonment. When his father had left the family behind, Rémy had barely been six years old. He suddenly felt like he had been taken back. The reasons behind his parents' quarrels and the sudden separation remained a mystery to him. He withdrew, experienced lonely moments and suffered from the rumors in the village. His father's financial support at least ensured a certain standard of living for the family, but the emotional gulf remained. His father's letters, which he later discovered, provided insights into