Saving Anna

by Sharon Struth

  “Another big step.” Ruth patted her hand and gave her a huge smile. “You have the power, Anna.”

  Anna’s chest swelled with pride. A new sense of freedom. Another move in the right direction.

  Ruth leaned forward. “This conversation is between us. The others here do not need to know.”

  Anna squeezed her new friend’s hand and embraced the feeling of liberation.

  Chapter 6

  The breakfast crowd had disbursed but Anna stayed behind. Alone in the dining room, she studied a map of Frankfurt on her laptop. Ruth’s suggestions had at least given her a place to start.

  But she was distracted.

  Monday morning had arrived, at least in Germany. Patrick would return from his golf weekend to head straight into his downtown office to start his workday. With the six-hour time difference, the papers would be served around 6 p.m. in Germany. It would be a long day of worrying.

  Her belly trembled as she pictured him opening the documents, the swift anger swelling on his handsome face, turning him from nice to nasty in seconds. A small breeze had been known to fan his flames. This would start a forest fire.

  She forced herself to concentrate on the map and push the images of him from her head.

  During dinner the night before, Ruth had suggested Anna visit the neighborhood in Frankfurt where Gunther had lived and ask around to see if anybody remembered the Hinzmann family. The city had been destroyed during the war, but Ruth had said people rebuilt and it was worth a shot. She also pointed out Gunther’s birthdate would help with online searches, so Anna should check churches near the home for baptismal records. Last night, she’d gone online and found several places of worship near where Isaak and Gunther once lived.

  She scanned the Frankfurt map, verified church information, and tossed the list into her purse. After closing her laptop, she gathered her things and headed to her room. Josef seemed punctual, and she didn’t want to keep him waiting.

  After brushing her teeth, she changed into lightweight white pants and a short-sleeved shirt. She’d been warned it was unseasonably warm today. Her shoulder ached as she pulled off one top and put on the other. She smoothed the front, went to the dresser mirror, and turned to make sure her bruise remained hidden.

  She’d become an expert on the life cycle of a bruise. As one healed, the body absorbed the leaked blood and the injury changed color. Early pink or red quickly changed to blue or dark purple—the painful stage. Pale green followed, meaning healing had begun, and a brownish-yellow meant her skin would soon return to normal. All facts she wished she didn’t know.

  She pressed her finger to the purple mass extending down from the top of her shoulder to her upper arm and winced, the impact of hitting the solid bathroom tile still a vivid memory. As she smoothed down the sleeve, the bottom edge covered the bruise. She’d wear this one.

  While she packed up her purse, she wondered which manifestation of Josef would arrive today. The showman, who came to life with tales of his adventures, or the pained soul who hid whatever it was that ailed him.

  A man with dual personalities, who lashed out and apologized, was what had sent her running here. Was she crazy to get in the car with him, or was this the test she must pass to move forward? Fear had kept her chained to Patrick. If she let it stop her now, then he again won.

  Besides, Josef seemed different. He’d reacted with a quick apology when she confronted him. Nothing like Patrick. Life had always taught her how each person’s story served as a two-sided coin. There was the side they showed and the side they hid. She did the same.

  Keeping that in mind, from now on she’d stand her ground when necessary. The way she had with Josef yesterday. Standing up to one moody German wouldn’t cure the damage she’d incurred during her marriage, but everyone had to start somewhere.

  The sound of voices outside made her go to the open window. Josef stood next to a sedan parked along the street and talked to Florian and his girlfriend. The lovebirds faced him, their arms intertwined, bodies pressed so close they could wear the same pants. Anna smiled.

  She slipped on black canvas flats and hoop earrings, grabbed a light jacket in case the warm day got cool, and hurried down to the lobby.

  Regina, Joachim’s wife who also ran the guesthouse, arranged delicate yellow flowers in a vase near the entrance. As Anna hit the bottom steps, Regina glanced over and smiled, the corners of her rich blue eyes crinkling as she did. “You are off?”

  “Yes, for a while.”

  “Tschüss,” Regina said merrily.

  “Tschüss,” Anna replied, having learned yesterday the phrase was a less formal way the Germans said goodbye.

  She headed out toward the car. Josef’s gaze drifted over Florian’s shoulder and their eyes met. He waved and continued his conversation.

  As she neared the car, Florian said, “Good morning, Anna. I see Josef is your chauffeur today. I think he should be wearing an official outfit and cap. You have my permission to boss him around if you would like.”

  Josef’s brows arched, then his lips curled with a smirk. “Boss me around? This from a man who watched Steel Magnolias last night because his girlfriend made him.”

  Karen edged herself even closer to Florian. “And he was duly rewarded.”

  Florian smiled at Josef. “It is what I do for love, my friend.” He turned and kissed Karen on the cheek. “Come on, sweetheart. Let us get my errands done for the lunch service.”

  Josef’s smile vanished as they walked away. He removed his keys from his pocket and walked around his car. “Where are we headed today?”

  “Frankfurt.”

  He jingled the keys, glanced at her for fraction of a second, tension visible in his jaw. “The door’s unlocked.”

  She hopped inside and buckled up. He didn’t get in right away but stood outside the door, staring straight ahead in deep thought. After a minute, he got in and started the car, staring out the front windshield, his concentration seemingly on nothing.

  It was as if a storm cloud had moved in, casting a dark shadow over his face. “You okay?”

  “Ja, ja.”

  He sounded irritated, anything but okay. Her nerves tightened, but she’d give him space. It could be his leg bothering him again. As long as he kept things professional, did it really matter if he treated her like he had his friends?

  He grabbed his phone, left sitting on his dashboard, and poked at the screen. “What is the address?”

  Anna reached in her purse and pulled out the pad containing her notes. “Staufenstra—Staufenstra…”

  He leaned over to see the paper and almost smiled. A sense of relief crossed her stiff shoulders. “The letter where you are stuck is called an eszett. It makes a sharp s sound.” He hissed like a harmless snake and again offered her a quick grin. “That’s all. Pretty easy, ja?” His gaze skipped to hers. “The address you need is Staufenstraße. Staufen Street. What number?”

  She told him and waited quietly as he entered the location into his GPS. Now he was nice. Offering a smile that seemed sincere enough, if brief. So maybe he wasn’t all bad.

  He exhaled a breath and took the steering wheel with both hands, his grip tight. After glancing over his shoulder, he eased from his space. They inched down the street. His body leaned slightly forward, every muscle taut, his attention hyper-focused. The way an old man might drive.

  “What is at this address?” His eyes didn’t leave the road, as if they were navigating rugged terrain, not a quiet residential block in the small city.

  “It’s the address where the man I’m trying to find lived as a boy. Ruth suggested I ask a few of the neighbors to see if they remember the family. She thought if we start with the address we have, someone in the area may have lived there back in ’38.”

  He nodded.

  “After that, I thought about checking out the local churches
for his baptismal papers, get his date of birth.”

  “I see.”

  As they neared an intersection, a large mixed-breed dog stepped off the sidewalk, dragging his owner out into the street. Josef slammed on the brakes and muttered something in German. He angrily waved them on, then shoved up the sleeves of a long-sleeved T-shirt, complaining about the heat as he ran a hand through his short hair. He blew out a loud breath, then continued to drive in the same tense manner.

  The car merged on the autobahn at a crawling pace, making other drivers honk as they flew past him. Anna remained quiet, thinking about everything that had happened since he’d stopped his relaxed conversation and joined her at the car to leave.

  Soon they cruised on the multilane road, not quite going the speed limit, but enough to keep the other drivers satisfied. They sped past clusters of neighborhoods, companies, and wide fields, one with wind turbines lined up like soldiers, the massive wings slowly spinning. At one point, she caught him glancing her way, lingering on her face for a second too long, and they started to drift. A driver in the next lane blared his horn, and Josef’s hands twitched on the wheel, correcting the car.

  They approached an exit ramp, and he put on his signal. Their turtle-slow departure resulted in more angry toots. He’d get eaten alive in Manhattan traffic. His behavior suddenly became clear. He didn’t dislike her. The car—and driving—scared the hell out of Josef. If anybody could spot fear, she could. So why would he have accepted a job driving?

  As they waited at a red light, about to enter the more modern city of Frankfurt, he cleared his throat.

  She glanced his way, surprised to find him watching her. “Yes?”

  “I am sorry again if I was rude yesterday.” Josef’s Adam’s apple slid along his throat. He sounded sincere and even a little sad. “Are we okay?”

  His eyes looked tired and sympathy for him tugged at her chest. “Yes.” She smiled. “Of course.”

  The light changed. He gave a nod and accelerated. They drove quietly. Her gaze drifted to the steering wheel, noting the earlier white-knuckled tension had eased from his highway experience. Soon he pulled into an empty space along the street and shut off the car.

  “The address you want is up ahead. I will show you.”

  She got out and stood on the sidewalk, looking around at the relatively quiet city street. Most buildings looked like apartments. Nicely landscaped and well cared for.

  Josef opened his door, leaned in, and came out with his cane. As he came around the car, he motioned to her arm. “What happened?”

  She glanced down to find that her sleeve had shifted, leaving her bruise exposed. Heat warmed her cheeks, but she quickly gathered her wits and smoothed down the sleeve. “Oh, I fell getting out of the shower a few days ago. Hit the tile. Lucky I didn’t get banged up worse. It really hurt.”

  “I bet it did.”

  He watched her for few seconds before starting to walk. She followed, wondering if he believed her. She always thought that after lying to people when they saw her marks.

  After passing a few houses, he stopped in front of one. “Here is your address.”

  She stepped past him and stared up at a multilevel stucco home. The upper levels had balconies that were adorned with wrought iron railings. “Must be an apartment building, maybe built after the war.” She glanced back at Josef for confirmation, but he was reading his phone.

  His eyes shifted up and an annoyed expression crossed his face. “What?”

  At first, she stiffened, as she would’ve if Patrick showed even the teeniest bit of annoyance. Then, a little piece of her snapped. With her back to him, she didn’t know he’d been reading a text. Were her wires so crossed on reading men, she could no longer filter right from wrong responses? She forced her chin high and said forcefully, “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you were reading a message.”

  He frowned. “I, well, yes…”

  She smiled so he didn’t feel bad. It wasn’t him, as much as paranoia ingrained in her mind. Trained every single day for two years to think the worst of any reaction besides a cheerful smile. It might be best to let Josef deal with whatever was bothering him and reach out in this neighborhood on her own. “Why don’t you wait in the car while I look around?”

  “You do not need me to translate?”

  “If I do, I’ll come get you.”

  He shrugged. “Sure.” He limped away, scowling at his phone and typing furiously with the cane tucked under his arm.

  She almost felt the pain of each step he took. The nervous driving. His mood shifts. They had to come from the same place. And yet, for the first time in her life, she wondered: Did having problems justify treating others poorly? Patrick took the concept to an extreme, and she’d let him.

  When he reached his car, he leaned against it, still staring at his phone.

  She turned away, determined to stop thinking about Josef. Moodiness had ruled her home life. But she wasn’t home, and this driver wasn’t Patrick.

  She strolled past the house, peeking over the waist-high fence into the front yard. A woman holding a watering can stepped out of the front door, pausing on the landing to quench the thirst of some potted geraniums at the top of the steps. She appeared to be in her sixties, at least from a distance.

  Anna plastered on a smile and yelled, “Guten Morgen.”

  The woman glanced back, smiled a little. “Guten Morgen.” She continued to water the plants.

  “Sprechen Sie Englisch?” Anna asked, trying out what she’d practiced from her phrase book.

  The woman straightened and studied Anna. “A little.”

  “I’m visiting from the US and trying to locate someone who lived at this address a long time ago. Back in 1938.”

  “Oh. This house was built after the war. I have been here zwanzig…um, twenty years.” She put down her can and came over to the fence. “Who do you wish to find?”

  “A family named Hinzmann. Specifically Gunther Hinzmann.”

  “Hinzmann,” she repeated as she plucked off the heads of a few dead flowers from a bush. “Hmmm. It doesn’t sound familiar.”

  “Do you think anybody in the neighborhood might remember someone from so long ago?”

  She frowned. “Many moved during the war.” She shook her head. “But I am afraid that name I do not know.”

  “Well, I thought I’d try. Danke for your time.”

  The woman smiled. “Bitte. I wish I could help more.”

  Anna turned away, taking note of the other houses nearby. She could go to a few in this general vicinity, even though all appeared to be post-war construction. Who knew… She just might get lucky.

  “Why are you looking for this man?” the woman yelled.

  She returned to the fence. “I live in New York City. My neighbor came from Germany and grew up on this street. He was Jewish, and the man I am looking for helped him escape capture from the Nazis. I have a letter to deliver, to thank this man.”

  The woman tipped her head, considering Anna. “I am Erika. Would you like to come in? There are many families in this building. Perhaps someone might remember. We could knock on some doors, try to find out.”

  Anna glanced to the car. Josef still leaned against the driver’s door with a cigarette in one hand, his phone in the other. “I’m heading inside,” she said loudly.

  “And you do not need me right now?” he yelled.

  “No. I’m fine.”

  He nodded and even gave her a brief smile before returning to his phone.

  She followed Erika up the wide stone steps to the main entrance, more optimistic than she’d been a minute ago.

  Chapter 7

  I do not need a therapist. I need a better doctor.

  Josef hit send a little harder than necessary due to irritation at his sister’s suggestion. A therapist? How would that help his leg?<
br />
  The simplest things set off his irritation these days, like the dog and owner he’d almost hit on the way over. At least he and Anna arrived in one piece. Driving wasn’t climbing a mountain, but sure felt like it.

  He took one last drag off his cigarette, tossed the rest onto the ground, and stomped it out. How would he cope with having Anna in his car for days? Possibly weeks? Every time he looked into her dark eyes, the ghost of Lily reappeared. It took over his mind, ate away at him.

  Claudia always raved because his reviews from his passengers were stellar, with customers applauding his zest for adventure, easygoing humor. A few of the single females on his tours privately told him he had charm. He imagined if Anna wrote a review about him, she wouldn’t say any of those things. Yesterday, when his leg hurt, he’d upset her to the point she was shaking. Though he’d apologized and she’d accepted, his behavior only added to the general sense of self-hatred seeping through his soul since Lily died.

  The way she and Lily blended in his head could be partially blamed for his erratic behavior around Anna. Especially shameful considering her thoughtful mission here to get an important message to a man for his heroism.

  Risky efforts back in those days could cost a person their life. Most of his older family members hated to talk about the war. When they did, they’d speak quietly, their voices cracking as grief swallowed their expressions. They’d share how nobody believed the National Socialist Party would gain so much power, but when they did, good people watched in horror because men with guns kept them silent. A lump gathered in his throat. Living through such a time was unimaginable. He needed to show due respect for the search Anna undertook. Now if only his aching body and overactive brain would cooperate.