Max nodded, staring toward Bruno. “There are few people in this world like Norbie. He’s incredibly supportive of Anna, and he helped save Nia.” He patted the dog’s side.
Nia wagged her tail and leaned to him.
“What will you do at your family business?” Max asked.
“Research and production. Eventually, I’ll run the business with my half-brother, Julius. However, Julius is much older than me so someday the business will be mine.”
“Sounds like you and Anna will have a comfortable life,” Max said.
“I think we will.”
“You had mentioned that yourvateracquired military contracts,” Max said.
“Ja,” Bruno said.
“I’m curious,” Max said. “What does the military do with ink and dye?”
An image of a chlorine gas cloud floating over no-man’s-land flashed in Bruno’s head. He buried his thoughts and said, “Lot of things.”
“Like what?”
Bruno crossed his arms. “Dye for uniforms. Ink for writing. You’d be surprised how many things—from paints to textiles—need colorants.”
“I see,” Max said, appearing satisfied with the explanation.
Bruno thought about leaving him and going to the kitchen, but he worried that Anna might inquire as to why he’d left Max so quickly. “Enough about me. Tell me about the composition you’re working on with Anna.”
“Pull up a chair,” Max said.
Bruno retrieved a side chair and placed it next to Max’s bench, facing the piano.
Max stood, retrieved the staff paper from under his seat, and then gave the draft to Bruno.
Bruno scanned the paper, covered in lines and symbols. “I can’t read music.”
“It’s okay,” Max said, sitting. “I’ll help you follow along. Look at the top left-hand corner of the first page. I’m going to play the first bar. Follow it like you’re reading a book.” Max played and stopped.
“Interesting,” Bruno said. “I think I saw on the page how the sound of your keys went up and down.”
“Precisely,” Max said. “I play a bar, and Anna records the notes onto the paper. It’s an intricate and time-consuming process, but we’re nearly finished with the piece.”
Bruno placed the manuscript on top of the piano, then glanced at Max’s milky eyes. “Do you mind telling me how you were blinded?”
“Nein,” Max said. “It was chlorine gas.”
Allied bastards, Bruno thought.
“Is poison gas still heavily used at the front?” Max asked.
“Ja.” Bruno swallowed. “Where were you injured?”
“Ypres,” Max said. “Do you know where it is?”
“I do,” Bruno said, recalling his first assignment. “I was once stationed there. However, it would likely have been prior to you.”
“Oh,” Max said. “When were you there?”
“Spring of 1915.”
