Every Shade by Nora Phoenix
2
Micah couldn’t believe he had agreed to spend a whole day with a complete stranger in a city he’d never been to before, wasn’t familiar with, and didn’t speak the language. After checking into the hotel, where they had been given adjoining rooms, Forest had handed him a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, as well as a pair of Converse. Micah had protested, but not enough to deter Forest, who had been like a little bulldozer in asserting his will.
A happy, bubbly bulldozer, Micah had to admit, which made following the man’s lead not so bad. His stomach was still all pretzeled in nerves, but he couldn’t deny he was a tad excited as well about the prospect of spending more time in Forest’s company. The man would undoubtedly get frustrated with him within hours, but hope sprung eternal, he guessed.
Forest had led them back to the hotel shuttle, which had dropped them off at the airport’s subway station. It was called the U-bahn, Forest had explained, and he had expertly procured subway tickets for them, then guided them to the right line.
“So, Micah, tell me what you like to do when you’re not working,” Forest said as they seated themselves in the subway.
Micah wiped his clammy hands off on the jeans, remembering too late they weren’t his. Traveling always made him a tad nervous, and in this case even more, because he literally had no idea where they were going.
“Cooking,” he managed, then swallowed and told himself to get a grip. “I love cooking.”
It calmed him, cooking the by-now familiar recipes he always made for his mom and him. The routine of it soothed him.
“Cool. You cook for yourself or is there someone else you cook for as well?” Forest asked, and Micah couldn’t help but smile at the cheeky way Forest had just checked if he was single. Still, he was about to lose major cool points with his next bit of info.
“Mostly for my mom and myself.” He waited for Forest to say something, but when he merely nodded with a smile on his face, Micah continued. “I do enjoy cooking for my friends once a month when we get together.”
He smiled as he thought of his bunch of ragtag friends, an eclectic group of nerds, dorks, and people who could charitably be called plain weird. Still, they were his people and they had been for a long time. Plus, they put up with all his quirks as well, and they were extensive.
“If you love cooking, I know exactly where to start our little exploration of Munich,” Forest said, his smile broadening.
“And you? What do you like to do besides traveling and outdoors stuff, I guess?” Micah asked. They were seated next to each other, and he loved how their legs touched every now and then, shooting little sparks of excitement through him.
“I love learning new things,” Forest said. “I am incurably curious, according to my mom, and I think that’s a pretty accurate description. I don’t have one specific hobby, I tend to get immersed in whatever holds my attention at that particular moment.”
Micah frowned, not sure what Forest meant. “Can you give me an example?”
“Sure. Last year, I was determined to learn paragliding, so I took a few courses and now I can paraglide. Right now, I’m thinking I want to learn how to surf. Which reminds me, I totally have to show you this giant park in the center of Munich, which is a lot like Central Park, actually. It’s called the Englisher Garten, which is, as you might’ve guessed, German for English Garden. It’s super cool, and there’s this one spot that you really have to see. But we’ll start with the food thing first.”
Micah smiled at Forest’s obvious enthusiasm. “Paragliding? Isn’t that, like, super risky?”
Forest nodded. “Yeah, it kinda is. I mean, if you asked the people who do it all the time, they’d deny that it’s any more dangerous than a lot of other sports, but there are formidable risks, obviously. It’s one of the reasons why I couldn’t see myself doing it long term, but then again, I’ve not been known to do anything long term, really.”
He laughed at himself, and Micah chuckled as well. “Sounds like you are the exact opposite of me,” he said.
He frowned as his own words registered. That made him sound boring again, didn’t it? His shoulders dropped a little. This was why he struggled with finding a boyfriend, or even with dating. He had no issues with the initial contact, but once they got into the getting-to-know-you phase, he always came across as boring.
“This is our stop,” Forest said, and when Micah didn’t respond fast enough, Forest took his hand and pulled him up. Micah followed him out of the subway, strangely excited Forest was holding on to his hand.
Once they stepped outside, he had to shield his eyes from the sun until they got used to the intensity of the light. There were a lot more people than he had expected, the streets filled with people of all ages and nationalities, judging by the languages he picked up. He looked up at the old buildings around him, his heart squeezing in excitement as much as fear. He was so far out of his comfort zone, his friends wouldn’t even believe them if he told them. God, he had to take pictures. Lots and lots of pictures.
That was when he discovered Forest was still holding his hand, looking at him with a sweet smile. “Is this okay? I just want to make sure I don’t lose you.”
Butterflies danced in his stomach. “Are you sure that’s okay here? We’re not gonna get in trouble?”
Forest shook his head. “No, no worries. First of all, Germany is pretty liberal, and secondly, the big cities are even more liberal, though Munich is more conservative than, say, Berlin. If you ever want to see a wonderful collection of the weirdest but most wonderful people on the planet, you have to go to Berlin. I love that city.”
He started walking and Micah followed, forcing his breathing to slow down. He could only hope his hand wouldn’t get too sweaty with Forest’s fingers laced through his.
They rounded a corner and entered a large square that was filled with dozens of stands, all neatly lined up in rows. A huge blue-and-white striped pole rose above it all, wooden signs attached to either side depicting people dancing, drinking, and having fun. At the top was a flowery wreath with ribbons.
“What’s this all?” he asked.
“This is the Viktualienmarkt, a farmer’s market held six days a week. It’s a food gourmet’s dream come true, I’m telling you. They have dozens of cheeses I’ve never seen before, all kinds of local products, game, too much to take in.”
Micah’s mouth dropped open a little as he looked around, trying to take in what all the stands offered. To his right stood a row of actual shops, all fairly small, and by the looks of it all offering specialty products. One featured all kinds of tea, another looked like a specialized wine store, and one said Metzgerei, which he took to mean butcher, considering the meats displayed in the window.
“Come on, let’s walk around,” Forest said.
They started with a stand that offered more kinds of olives than Micah had ever seen in his life. The woman manning it was dressed in a rather unpractical-looking white blouse with puffy sleeves and a pink dress that highlighted her ample bosom. She looked beautiful, but Micah couldn’t help but wonder if it was the most suitable outfit to sell olives in.
She said something, and Forest quickly replied. “She asked if we wanted to try one,” Forest explained.
Micah nodded instantly. They all looked delicious, shiny olives filled with garlic, cream cheese by the looks of it, and red peppers, he figured. He pointed toward the cream-cheese-filled one, and the saleswoman stuck one on what looked like a toothpick and handed it to him. The flavor exploded in his mouth, the salty, slightly bitter taste of the olive mixing perfectly with the rich, round cream cheese, which was mixed with some herbs, he figured.
“That’s delicious,” he said to the woman, hoping she could at least understand that.
Her face broke open with a big smile. “Yes, sehr gut, nah?”
Gut, that was a word he could translate, and from the context, he gathered that sehr had to mean very. “Very, very good.”
The next stall held specialty cheeses, a display of mostly French, Italian, and German cheeses, most of which were completely foreign to Micah. They all looked equally delicious, but then again, he had a weakness for cheese.
“American?” the sales guy asked, and Micah nodded, surprised the man had guessed correctly. “Bavarian cheese,” the man said, pointing toward the front row of his display, pride ringing in his voice.
Bavaria, that was the state Munich was in, Micah remembered. That meant these were all local and regional cheeses the man was pointing to. His mouth watered at the sight. “Which one is the best?” he asked. “Which one do you recommend?”
He wasn’t sure if the man had understood him, until he pointed at one particular cheese and said, “The best.”
It wasn’t eloquent, but Micah understood him perfectly. He turned toward Forest. “Can you buy me a little? I’d love to try it.”
Forest smiled at him, then turned toward the man, and within a minute had purchased a little piece of the cheese. As soon as he had paid, Micah unwrapped the cheese and took a little bite. He moaned with pleasure as the taste hit him, perfectly creamy, rich, thick cheese that filled his mouth and stuck to the roof of his mouth in the best way possible. All it needed to be even more perfect was a drop of sweetness, for instance a little raspberry jam.
“I take it it tastes good?” Forest said, and Micah spun around to face him, embarrassed that he completely forgotten about him.
He held out the cheese. “Want to try some?”
Forest sent him a cheeky smile. “I’d love to, especially after the way you moaned. That has to be some orgasmic cheese.”
The fact that Forest was eating the cheese prevented Micah from having to answer, but he felt his cheeks flush once again. Had he really moaned that loud? Maybe he had.
Forest let out a little sigh of pleasure himself. “That is damn good cheese,” he said, and Micah was strangely pleased.
They wrapped up the rest of it, and Forest stuck it in the messenger bag he was wearing over his shoulder. They walked around the square for over an hour, trying various things. Micah was amazed at the products they saw, almost everything fresh, artisan made. There was a whole corner of stalls that sold fish, something he hadn’t expected to find this deep inland. But there were also all kinds of meat, including homemade sausages.
“You have to try the Weißwurst,” Forest said, pointing at a rather unappetizing looking sausage. It was white, the skin strange looking, almost see-through but not quite.
“What’s so special about that one?” Micah asked. He could spot at least ten sausages that looked a hell of a lot more appetizing than the alien-looking one.
“It’s a regional delicacy. It’s what Bayern—Bavaria—is known for. It’s a kind of sausage that you don’t grill, but you slowly heat it in warm water, making sure it doesn’t actually boil. And when it’s warm, you eat it with sweet mustard. It’s actually a sin to eat it right now according to locals, considering it’s afternoon and it’s a breakfast food, but as foreigners, we’ll get away with it. It’s absolutely freaking delicious, and you have to try it.”
After a passionate plea like that, how could Micah refuse? He watched as Forest chatted in German with the girl behind the stall and she got them two of the white sausages that she lifted from a large pan. There were a few bar tables you could use to eat, and he and Forest put their paper plates down on one to eat their sausage, which came with a huge pretzel—a Breze, Forest told him.
Micah wasn’t too sure about the combination of that strange, white sausage with the mustard, but he figured he might as well try it. He watched how Forest cut the sausage lengthwise and then sort of scraped the meat out of the skin and copied him. After the first bite, his eyes widened.
“Oh my god, you were right. That is insanely good.”
The sweet mustard mixed perfectly with the hearty sausage. Micah would’ve never thought it went well together, but it was a match made in heaven. They both devoured their sausages, eating about half of the pretzel before they called it quits.
“If you want to go all traditional, you’d drink a Weißbier with this, but it’s a little too early for me,” Forest said, gesturing at the Biergarten behind them, which was packed with people drinking tall glasses of beer.
“Yeah, I’ll pass as well, thanks,” he said.
Micah’s heart skipped a little when Forest took his hand again, like he’d done ever since they walked out of the subway. He would’ve never admitted it to the other man, but it did give him a strange sense of security to literally hold on to Forest. That, of course, didn’t make sense at all considering they barely knew each other.
Forest took him on a walk through the old city center, the Altstadt, and Micah tried to take it all in, the old buildings, the churches, the gorgeous rooftops, everything. Forest pointed out things left and right, explaining a little background or history of what they walked past.
“You learned all this in two days?” Micah asked.
Forest laughed. “No, I did my research beforehand. I always do when I’m traveling to a new place. My main focus is writing about outdoors stuff, but I sell the occasional travel article as well. Some travel writers argue that you should come in as a blank slate, so you’re not affected by what other writers have written about a place already, but that doesn’t work for me. I love discovering new things, but the first few days, I always start with the most touristy places. There’s a reason they’re so popular, you know? And to me, reading up about the history of a place is important, especially when you travel to areas like this.”
He pointed out another gorgeous church, and Micah took a picture with his phone, then checked to make sure the picture had turned out okay.
“What’s so special about the history of Munich?” he asked as they walked further, and this time he reached for Forest’s hand before even realizing it.
“Good heavens, where do I start? You know how Americans joke that New York City is not like the rest of the US? It’s the same with Bavaria. It’s part of Germany, but it has its own distinct culture and a rich history. It used to be a kingdom, not even that long ago, and you can still see many remnants of that era, including some stunning castles. More recently, this was where Hitler started his rise to power. His first attempt at a coup took place right here in Munich.”
As they walked along, Forest shared some of the history of the city and the state, and Micah was amazed at how much he knew about it. He’d never been a big fan of history, but hearing about it as you saw the remnants with your own eyes, that was different.
“This is one of the most famous landmarks in Munich,” Forest said, pointing at a richly decorated building that had a big sign that said Hofbråuhaus. “It’s the main brewery in Munich, or it used to be, and now it’s a massive Bierkeller, literally beer cellar or beer basement, or what the English would call a pub. But it has its own distinct traditions and culture, like a reserved table for some long-time patrons called a Stammtisch.”
They continued their stroll, and Micah was amazed at how much he was enjoying himself. His previous stress had vanished, replaced by a deep contentment at how beautiful the city was…and how beautiful his company was. If Forest was already growing bored by Micah, he wasn’t showing it, and sparks of hope fired in his heart. Maybe, just maybe, he could pull it off to appear interesting. For once.
