Walls

by L. M. Elliott

  “They didn’t,” Charlie answered. “Not with a train full of Americans watching. The Russkies are smarter than that.”

  “It was actually a good thing for Bob that the train was stopped for the GDR’s May Day shenanigans,” Drew added. “That way, the lieutenant could stay with him until his dad and someone from our embassy could get there. We were stuck on the side rail for twelve hours. The train didn’t budge until three o’clock that afternoon, after all the International Workers parades were over.”

  “Hell of a poker game, though.” Charlie elbowed Drew as he looked around him to Shirley. “Your boy won close to twenty bucks! He’s a bit of a card shark.”

  Smiling, she threaded her arm through Drew’s. “I know. He told me that’s how he bought me such a beautiful corsage for prom.”

  The trio walked on in silence for a few moments, thinking.

  Quietly, Shirley asked, “And you’re sure the East German kid got away?”

  Drew nodded, looking to Charlie for confirmation. “We think so. We didn’t see the guy being dragged into the station house. Everyone’s focus seemed to be entirely on Bob. He created a helluva diversion. I swear every Russian at the station jumped on Bob in order to prove how committed a Red he is.” Just like his dad had warned.

  “It’s not that I don’t believe Bob is capable of something that heroic, but . . .” Shirley paused. “Do you think he knew what would happen?”

  “Oh yeah,” breathed Drew and Charlie together. It was the way Bob had looked back at them right before shimmying out the window—like a warrior going over a wall into enemy territory who knew he wasn’t coming back.

  “It’s such a shame we can’t celebrate what Bob did for that German boy, though, don’t you think?” murmured Shirley.

  “Yeah, it is,” the boys agreed, again simultaneously.

  “But when Charlie and I explained to the lieutenant why Bob went out that window, he was crystal clear that it wasn’t to be broadcast,” Drew said.

  “It’s because of another incident,” Charlie explained. “There was an East German who did manage to climb through a duty train window when it was pulled to the side to let an East German train pass. But a Russian soldier saw him and sounded the alarm. That brought on a helluva standoff between our MPs and the guards. Our guys refused to hand over the East German—our duty train is sovereign American territory. The guy was seeking asylum.” Charlie paused. “Can you imagine? A half-dozen MPs standing post at the train doors against a whole garrison of Russian and GDR soldiers in the middle of the Soviet occupation zone? That took some guts.”

  “Did . . . did we take the man to freedom?” Shirley asked, barely above a whisper.

  Grimly, Charlie shook his head. “No. After hours of trying to negotiate with the Russian high command to let us keep the guy, HQ ceded the battle and ordered the train commander to turn the German back over to the Stasi. My dad said we had to—it was too much of a powder keg. Refusing to give the guy up could have been the spark that ignited World War III.”

  “Oh,” Shirley gasped. “That’s . . . awful.”

  Drew nodded. “Yeah. They had no choice, I guess. But lord knows what happened to that poor guy.”

  Sighing, the trio stopped, standing at the street corner that sent them in separate directions to their apartments.

  “So,” Charlie concluded, “if the Russians knew about another potential defector—the kid we saw—trying to hop on our train, that could have been reason enough for them to shut down American passage through the occupied zone. They could’ve said the duty train presents a lure and provocation for—” He broke off, looking to Drew. “What’s the right GDR term for escape, the one that means treason?”

  “Republikflucht.”

  “Right. So we can know what Bob did, but the official report on the incident has to say that a military kid was screwing around, trying to swap cigarettes for Russian insignia pins.”

  “That’s technically why Bob was suspended,” Drew added.

  “Life here is . . . is so . . .” Shirley trailed off.

  “Strange?” Charlie offered.

  “Harsh,” she answered.

  Drew kissed her forehead.

  Blessing him with a sad smile, she murmured, “I should go. Mom’s waiting to take us shopping at the PX so I can get a new bathing suit for Wannsee Lake tomorrow.” She brightened a little at the thought of their outing. “Till then.”

  They watched her until she made it to her building, and then Charlie said, “That’s a lovely lady, Drew. You’re a lucky dog.” He punched Drew’s shoulder and turned toward his apartment. “See ya tomorrow.”

  As he headed home, Drew spotted Joyce walking with her arm around Linda’s shoulders. He hadn’t been able to find his sisters in the halls after school, and he trotted to catch up. “Hey! I was looking for you two! Where were you?”

  Linda looked up at Drew, her eyes red from crying.

  “What happened?” he asked, looking to Joyce.

  “Twelve-year-old girls,” she muttered angrily. “They were passing notes in class, and one of the ninnies dropped hers.”

  “It was Patty,” Linda wailed. “She dropped it right in front of my desk. My teacher thought I’d written it, so she opened it in front of the whole class to reprimand me.” Linda took a deep breath. “It . . . it was a really mean drawing of me, with my hair all frizzled in red pen, holding a stuffed animal.” Embarrassed tears slipped down her face. “I should never have played vet with her and my teddy bears.”

  “Why the heck would Patty do something like that?” Drew asked, angry and surprised both.

  “Some girls just get mean and cliquey the instant they discover lipstick,” Joyce said. “You don’t know, because you have Linda and me as sisters, and we aren’t like that.” She hugged Linda. “Right, soldier?”

  “Right,” she murmured.

  “Listen, cutie, forget Patty. Drew and I are going to Wannsee Lake with the gang tomorrow. Come with us.”

  “Yeah! Be with the cool guys,” Drew joined in. “That’s where you belong!”

  Linda wiped her eyes. “Is . . . is Matthias coming, too?”

  Joyce smiled and nodded.

  “Ooooookay,” Linda said slowly.

  Joyce and Drew flanked her, and arm in arm, they started home as Linda asked, “May I bring your soccer ball, Drew?”

  “Of course! You’re getting good with that thing. Matthias can show you some moves.”

  Linda blushed and looked down, kicking at pebbles as they walked. “Thanks for finding me and pulling me out of the girls’ room,” she murmured to Joyce.

  “That’s what sisters are for,” Joyce said quietly, gently tugging Linda’s strawberry-blond ponytail. There was a little catch in her voice as she said it.

  It gave Drew a pang, too. He hoped he’d know how to be a good brother to Linda without Joyce showing him the way when she went to London for college. Truth be told, Drew wasn’t sure how he’d do with Joyce gone, either. Their unit was breaking apart, their leader promoted out of the ranks.

  Later that afternoon, Drew opened the front door to find Bob standing there. They hadn’t really talked since the train; Bob had been in the penalty box all month. “Take a walk with me?” he asked.

  The boys made it all the way to the swing sets behind the school before Bob started talking. “Berlin Command is sending Dad back to the Pentagon.”

  “Jeez, I’m sorry, Bob.” Drew meant it. His own dad would hate being behind a desk again, no matter how close it put him to the military brass. And if Drew were the cause of that transfer, he wasn’t so sure how his nice-guy dad would react.

  “No, it’s okay,” Bob murmured, sitting down on a swing, absentmindedly swaying back and forth. “It could have been a lot worse of a reprimand. And Berlin brought out the worst in him. The worst in me.” He thought for a mo
ment. “Listen, Drew. I didn’t get to finish my apology before . . . before I did a Humpty Dumpty out the window. But I’m really sorry about that envelope. I had no idea that telling Dad about Matthias hanging with you so much would give him the idea to—”

  “Try to screw over my dad?” Drew interrupted.

  “Yeeaah,” Bob said slowly. He didn’t try to shrug off Drew’s damning interpretation of Sergeant Jones’s actions.

  “What if my dad hadn’t said anything about that envelope and had just torn it up and thrown it in the trash?” Drew felt his freckles nearly scorch his face in renewed indignation about the whole thing.

  “Honestly? I don’t know,” Bob answered. “But I mean it, Drew. I didn’t have any idea my dad would concoct that kind of setup. He didn’t tell me until after the van was sitting outside your apartment. Then, once the MPs were gone, he said what a good guy your dad was. So in the end, maybe it was a good thing for your dad. But I . . . I hope you believe me.” He put his hand out for a shake. “Are we jake?”

  Grudgingly, Drew took it. “I guess. Out of respect for what you did on the train, if for no other reason. That was . . . outstanding.”

  “Thanks, Drew.” Bob started his slow swing again. “Of all the things I’ve done to try to get my dad’s attention, that window thing—which I did without thinking, and what should have gotten me in a heap of trouble—seems to have finally gotten through to him.” Bob stopped swinging abruptly. “He actually said he was proud of me.”

  “Yeah?”

  Bob nodded. “He got all protective when he got to the station and saw a bunch of armed Russkies surrounding his kid.” Bob grinned. “And when we got back home, I explained why I did it—that for once I wasn’t just goofing off. That we’d spotted the German kid trying to escape, and that he was about to get caught.” Bob shrugged. “I don’t know, but I think it’s going to be better with Dad now. I hope so, anyway.”

  “How is your mom taking it?”

  “Oh, she’s relieved. She’s never liked it here.” Bob stood and started walking back to their apartment building. “She’s actually been packing a Smith and Wesson in her purse this whole time, in case the Russkies decided to invade our sector in some surprise attack. We’d put up a good fight, of course. But c’mon, we’re outnumbered ten to one. It’d take a miracle for us to hold the fort. She’s really afraid of being an American woman here if Berlin fell, after what happened to German women at the end of World War II when the Red Army captured the city. It just wasn’t safe in the streets for a long time. A lot of moms go home because they can’t handle that fear.” He paused and heaved a sigh. “Thinking about that guy being so desperate to get on our train . . . it’s really not all that safe now, either. Is it? Especially given how Khrushchev just wiped the floor with your guy last week in Vienna.”

  Drew ignored the criticism of JFK—he knew Bob was a big Nixon fan, and Kennedy had kind of blown it at that summit. “But that kid wasn’t caught and hauled off by the Stasi, thanks to you, Bob. That’s something.”

  “Yeah.” Bob stuck out his lower lip, considering. “I guess. But being free would have been better.”

  After several heavy beats of silence, Bob punched Drew on the shoulder—friendly, the way he had the day they’d first met. “Gotta go. We leave in an hour. Thanks for everything, man. Keep in touch, okay? Really. See you at West Point, maybe.”

  “Not if I see you first,” Drew joked.

  Giving Drew a playful salute, Bob jogged away.

  Drew was still mulling over his conversation with Bob the next morning as he, Shirley, and Charlie sat on towels at Wannsee Lake. They were watching the growing throng of sunbathing West Berliners settle on the grassy banks.

  It was the first really warm summer day, and Berliners were out in force. A man and woman plunked themselves down right in front of their group and quickly stripped down to their bathing suits.

  Blushing, Shirley looked down at the grass and plucked a few blades. The guy’s bathing suit was European-style tiny and about as revealing as the statues at the Olympic pool.

  Drew put his arm protectively around her.

  “It could be worse,” Charlie gently teased Shirley. “There’s a nude beach on the bank over there.” He pointed across the wide lake, crowded with sailboats.

  “Are you kidding?” Drew asked.

  “Nope.” Charlie shook his head. “We went there by mistake last year. Old guys. Lots of flab and wrinkles and”—he laughed—“you-know-what on full display. Au naturel.”

  “Ewww.” Shirley managed a nervous giggle.

  “Hey, guys! Sorry we’re late.” Joyce dropped her bag and towel and started pulling off her blue-and-white-striped culottes and matching blouse. “Where’s Linda?”

  “Over there with Matthias and Heidi.” Drew pointed toward the tree line, where Matthias was dribbling his soccer ball in circles, chased by Linda and a happily barking Heidi.

  “She’s okay?”

  “I think so,” Drew answered.

  Shirley looked up at Joyce, shading her eyes against the sun. Drew had told her and Charlie about Patty’s drawing. “Aren’t you glad you’re not that age anymore?”

  “Heck, yes,” Joyce answered emphatically.

  “I can’t believe anyone could be mean to Linda. She’s total sweetness.” Charlie shook his head.

  “Do you think Patty dropped the note on purpose?” Shirley asked.

  “Yeah,” Joyce responded just as vehemently.

  “Girls do that kind of stuff?” Charlie asked with surprise.

  “Oh, honey.” Joyce smiled. “This is why we like you so much, Charlie.”

  Shirley and Drew shared an awwww look at the way Charlie sat up tall at Joyce’s compliment. But his pleased look evaporated instantly as Fritz appeared.

  “Bist du bereit?” he asked Joyce.

  She nodded happily. “Fritz rented a Sunfish to show me how to sail. Anybody want to join us? It just holds two people, but we can take turns.”

  “Ja, ja. Come with us,” said Fritz as he dropped his pants to his ankles and stepped out of them.

  Shirley started pulling at the grass again—fistfuls of it.

  “Ah, thanks, but we’ll stay here,” Drew answered for her. “Why don’t you go with them, Charlie?”

  Charlie was desperately fighting off a laugh. “Nah, I’m happy here. Have fun.”

  “Suit yourselves!” Joyce said merrily as she took Fritz’s hand and practically skipped to the water’s edge with her basically naked boyfriend in his handkerchief-sized bathing suit.

  “Goodbye, Berlin, auf Wiedersehen . . .” Charlie began singing.

  “ . . . so wunderbar, so wunderschön . . .” Drew joined in the popular song.

  “Auf Wie-der-sehen . . .” Shirley rounded out the trio’s amusement as they all waved a joking goodbye to Fritz’s retreating butt.

  Shirley ended their laughter abruptly. “Speaking of goodbyes . . .” she said. Then she hesitated.

  “What?” Drew nudged her. “A Pfennig for your thoughts.” He repeated the awkward phrase he’d used during their pool outing back in the winter. “Remember?” he asked.

  “Yes.” She smiled shyly. “Of course.” Still she paused.

  Drew waited.

  When Shirley spoke again, Drew could tell it wasn’t what she had originally planned to say. He’d seen the slight shift of expression on her beautiful face, like a sailboat on the lake gracefully changing tack to catch the wind. “So . . . Bob’s gone? Auf Wiedersehen?”

  “Yeah. Totally cleared out.”

  “Is he okay?” Charlie asked. “Do you know how . . . what did his dad say about everything?”

  Charlie clearly knew some of what Drew did about the troubled relationship between Bob and his dad. But Bob had earned Drew’s discretion, even with someone as trustworthy as Charlie. “
Things seemed to be okay” was all Drew said. “Saying goodbye to Berlin is going to be good for that family, I think.”

  Taking another deep breath, Shirley repeated, “Speaking of goodbyes . . .” This time, she rushed to say what was on her mind. “Dad told us last night that the State Department has been really impressed with his work here.” She paused, pressing her lips together to suppress their trembling.

  Drew felt his heart flip-flop. He’d heard the beginning of this type of conversation before.

  “He’s been offered the chance to attend the War College in DC, and . . .”

  Charlie stood. “I’m going to get us a few root beers,” he said, and hurried away.

  Shirley took Drew’s hand. “We’re not leaving until July.”

  Drew wanted to howl in anger. Why? Why did military families have to move around so much all the damn time?

  But Shirley’s eyes were begging him to help her deal with what this meant for them. He sucked in his breath and managed to croak, “Then we’ll just have to make the most of June, I guess. Summer love and all.”

  The smile Shirley gave him was as good as a kiss.

  Good thing, too, since just as Drew leaned over to give her a real one, a soccer ball bounced up against them.

  “Sorry!” Linda called as she darted toward their encampment, followed by Heidi.

  The little dog bounded into Shirley’s lap as Matthias threw himself down beside Drew. “She has skills, your little sister.”

  Flushed from running, Linda beamed. “Matthias says he’ll coach me over the summer so I can get good enough to play for school.”

  “She would make an excellent midfielder.” He tapped his forehead. “Very smart. She would distribute the ball well.”

  “I’m afraid there isn’t a girls’ soccer team,” Shirley said gently. “No girls’ athletics, just cheerleading.”

  Linda frowned. “Well . . . maybe I’ll start one. Matthias can teach me how to do that.” She gathered her dachshund into her arms. “Heidi can be our mascot.”