From Bad to Wurst by Maddy Hunter Read Free Book Online

rest of you should follow through with your appearances as scheduled.”
    â€œAnd what about you?” asked a man from the audience.
    Otis swiped moisture from his cheeks with a beefy hand. “The Guten Tags are gonna sit this one out. And before you go getting all riled up about our decision, I’ve got two things to say. First: Hetty and us guys will pay all the respects necessary to Astrid’s memory, so we don’t want you thinking you’re giving her short shrift. And second: the four of us can’t perform without an accordionist, so that’s all she wrote. We couldn’t play even if we wanted to, but we’ll be real happy to listen to the rest of you up there on stage.”
    Shocked silence filled the room, broken by a single clap of approval that was followed by another and another until all of us were on our feet, applauding the Guten Tags for the selflessness of their gesture. Otis’s nose turned red with embarrassment. Hetty’s eyes sparkled with unshed tears. Gilbert and Wendell clasped hands as if congratulating each other on the wisdom of their decision.
    I had to hand it to them. Given their disappointing change of circumstances, they were being extraordinarily gracious. Back home we call that “Midwest nice.”
    â€œThat settles it then,” said Wally when the applause died down. “We’ll continue our schedule as planned, and the only detail we’ll change is that the three remaining bands will have more playing time. Is everyone agreed?”
    â€œHello?” A man in a navy blue business suit stepped into the room, accompanied by a man in an even more conservative black suit. “Please forgive the interruption. May we come in?”
    The Guten Tags shuffled out of the way to allow the newcomers center stage. The suits shook hands with Wally before the navy suit addressed the audience. “Please allow me to introduce myself. My name is Dieter Dangler, and I am manager of this establishment.” His words were clipped and precise, with barely a trace of an accent. “This is Egon Seiler.” He nodded to the black suit. “Assistant to the mayor of Munich. He has come to deliver a message from the mayor.”
    Egon Seiler removed a paper from the inner pocket of his suit and snapped it open with a flick of his wrist. “‘To the guests of Destinations Travel: I am at a loss to find words to express my sorrow for the tragic incident that occurred earlier today. It is unconscionable that a visitor to our city should lose her life as a result of walking down one of our streets. Sadly, decades after the bombing of Munich, we continue to deal with the consequences. I only wish I could reverse the outcome of today’s misfortune.
    â€œâ€˜Sources have reported to me that despite the horror and confusion in the aftermath of the explosion, many Destinations Travel guests remained at the scene, offering assistance to the injured, with little concern for their own personal safety. There is no way the people of Munich can repay this act of generosity and courage, but we would like to try by offering you the key to our city. Wherever you travel in Munich, doors will be open to you. You will receive the best tables when you dine, upgraded hotel rooms, free admission to our museums and historic sights, and because I’m told that many of you are members of brass bands, we invite you to perform at whatever Oktoberfest tent you choose—the Schottenhamel, the Hippodrom, the Hofbrau-Festzelt, the Lowenbrau-Festzelt, or the Hacker-Festzelt.’”
    Whoops of surprise. Gasps of delight.
    â€œâ€˜The city of Munich will accommodate you in whatever way we can, but there is truly no courtesy we can provide that will ever match the bravery you demonstrated today. The citizens of Munich remain forever in your debt.’ Signed, Klaus Richter, Mayor of Munich.” Egon looked up from the paper, businesslike and