FAIR AND BALANCED

 There was a loud, “Achtung” and I heard a hand slap on a table. I had to check it out. Went in and who should be all outfitted with lederhosen and other accoutrements than C.W. in a perfect imitation of the WWII German Minister for Armaments and War Production Albert Speer. He was busily pounding my laptop.

“What the …?”

“Shhh, he said. “Have a paying job going on.”

“A what?”

“A paying assignment. For money. Just for writing a novel.” I heard a hum. "Mucho Dinero."

“A novel? Who’s paying you for writing a novel?”

“A state government. This,” he pointed at the computer,” will be required reading for every student in the state.”

“What state government would pay you to write a novel?”

“Not at liberty,” he said, “but tell me something.”

“What?”

“What would be a good name for a beautiful commandant of women at a Nurture Center for displaced war refugees during World War Two? She’s a little bit headstrong but well-intentioned and basically loving. The men all chase after her. The women there all adore her, except for the other commandants. They are jealous of her.”

“At what kind of center?”

“You know. Where they keep abandoned women until they are … until their families unite with them.”

“Where are these centers?”

“Mostly in Poland. Some in Germany.”

“And the centers are designed for care and protection?”

“Yes. Our heroine watches over her charges with the assistance of a portly, but kind-hearted assistant named Oma-Greta. She’s always telling our heroine ‘Nicht Richtig’ when our heroin does something untoward.” He grimaced. “Wait a moment,” he said. “My Galactic Universal Translator is acting up.”

I waited. In a moment, he said, “Nicht Richtig: That means ‘It isn’t acceptable,’ or ‘It’s not proper,’ or ….”

“Tain't Fittin’?”

“Yes,” he said. “How did you know what my GUT was telling me?”

“Guessed. Are you writing a novel about Nazi Germany?”

“We don’t call it that.”

“What do you call it?”

“Gutemenschenland.”

“Do you know what that means?”

“The ones who hired me say it means ‘holy’ or ‘righteous’ depending on the context.

“What does your GUT tell you?”

“I haven’t consulted it yet. Anyway, sometimes my GUT misleads me.”

“Tell me,” I said. “How is this novel going to end?”

“Our heroine, I’m thinking of calling her Scharlachrot Harren, her boyfriend Rolf Spieler, and Oma-Greta lead all the inmates of the Nurture Center safely back to their homes amidst great rejoicing. There well be this grand scene at a trainyard where they all unite. And they all live happily ever after.”

“You’re not going to tell me who’s paying you to write this?”

He looked around as if to see if anyone was listening. “Let’s just say, in your parlance and between you and me, it’s from somewhere people are large with cash but a little lacking on other things.”