Saving Anna

by Sharon Struth

  He turned off the main road leading to the guesthouse, delightful thoughts about Anna dancing in his head. A motion in his periphery caught his attention, and something dashed in front of the car.

  Josef slammed on the brakes, just in time to identify a cat scamper to the roadside and hide beneath a bush.

  And that’s when a memory flashed. Just a blink in his mind’s eye, fuzzy around the edges but so real he could touch it. The scenic, curvy road. Lily at his side. A furry animal had darted out from the road’s edge.

  He pulled over and exhaled to calm his racing heart. Leaning over, he flipped open the glove compartment and reached for the pack of cigarettes. This time, he stopped himself, crumpled the pack, and shoved it in the pocket of his bomber jacket.

  But as he sat there, he mulled over the gift of a brief recollection. Ironically bestowed to him on the first morning he woke and wasn’t thinking about the accident. The drive here had been comfortable, without the usual fear guiding him behind the wheel.

  Deep in his gut, he felt certain there had to be more to that day than him swerving to avoid a furry little creature. Maybe the rest would come back to him soon, sparked by this first step.

  He pulled back out to the road. The moment seemed almost surreal, but it had happened. He couldn’t wait to tell Anna the news.

  At the guesthouse, he parked and rushed to the front entrance. Regina came down the hallway carrying a stack of towels. “Hallo, Josef. Anna just went outside for a walk along the river. If you hurry, you can catch her before she gets too far.”

  He raced through the restaurant as fast as his bad leg would allow, pausing only to toss the remaining cigarettes from his car into the trash. Once outside, he went straight to the sidewalk along the river. He glanced to the right but didn’t see her. With a glance to the left, he spotted her wearing a bright red jacket that billowed behind her from a gust of wind. “Anna! Hold up.”

  He hurried to reach her, anxious to share his news with someone who mattered. As he neared, he noticed her tense expression.

  When he was a few steps away, she finally smiled “Hi. I wasn’t expecting you for another half hour. I left my laptop in my room, but I can grab it and we can start research now, if you want.”

  “No need. I think I’ve found the man you are looking for in Wiesbaden, just across the river. At least I’m almost certain it is him.”

  A passing breeze sent her hair flying and she brushed it from her eyes. “How’d you find him?”

  Josef went through all the details of last night’s search. “Once I got enough information, I located his Facebook page. The man I found is missing his right arm, just like the man in your photo.”

  “Then it must be him. Oh, Josef.” She took his hands and smiled. “Thank you!”

  “I am happy to have helped.” Her hands in his gave him the courage to ask his question. “Listen, my brother is getting married next weekend. Would like to come along as my guest? You can see a German wedding while you are here, but mostly I would enjoy having you with me.”

  She squeezed his hands and he swore her cheeks turned pink. “Of course I would. I’m honored you’d ask me.”

  “Good.” Relief washed through him. “So, shall we head over to Wiesbaden today?”

  “Yes. I need a distraction.”

  “Is anything wrong?”

  “Oh, my husband left me a message. There’s not much to say. The calls just bother me.” Her face brightened, though he believed she was trying too hard. “But you seem pretty upbeat. Besides the good news you just brought me, anything else going on?”

  Josef walked at her side, sharing what happened with the cat moments earlier and how it had jarred a small remembrance of the accident. “But I get a sense there is more.”

  “That’s fantastic. It’s just a matter of time before you remember the rest.”

  “I hope so.” But what she’d said about needing a distraction still bothered him. “Did something happen back at home with your divorce?”

  She shook her head. “No. Not at all. It’s still on track. I’m a worrier, that’s all. Now, tell me about your brother and his wedding.”

  While he talked, he couldn’t erase the image of how sad she’d looked when he arrived. Knowing her husband kept calling put him on edge, too.

  Chapter 17

  Josef pointed out landmarks in Wiesbaden as they headed for the northwestern corner of the town. Before now, Anna’s view had only been from across the river, but close up the buildings had character and the busy streets were filled with Saturday shoppers.

  Josef seemed different today. The tension often visible in his jaw when he drove had nearly gone and he touched the steering wheel lightly. It did her heart good to see him so happy when he’d arrived. All the more reason she not mention Patrick’s message. Why dampen the positive mood of today’s trip?

  Soon, they entered a residential area with single-family houses, newer apartment buildings, trees, and parks. After a few turns, Josef slowed the car, craning his neck to see the building numbers.

  “Here we are.” He pulled against the curb in front of a tan stucco building with a clay-tiled roof.

  Nerves tingled in her belly as she said a quick prayer. Isaak, if you’re up there watching, I think we found Gunther.

  She glanced over at Josef. “Do you mind doing the introductions and explaining why we are here? Like you have in the other places.”

  “I am happy to.” His gaze skipped over her face. “You are nervous?”

  “Kind of. I just want the man to be him so badly.”

  “Me, too.”

  They exited the car and approached the complex, tidy rows of townhouses, each with the same brown door. Walking along the path, she noted the little personal touches by various owners. Different window coverings, potted plants, or types of wreaths hanging off the door. At the last unit in the first row Josef stopped.

  “Here it is.” He motioned to a unit marked twenty-two that held an autumn floral wreath.

  She drew in a breath and knocked. They waited. And waited. Nobody came.

  Josef reached up and rapped with more force.

  Footsteps pounded from inside. A few seconds later, the door flung open.

  A slender woman, probably in her sixties, stood before them wearing jeans and a slightly wrinkled button-down shirt. A barrette held back her long dark hair, threaded with some gray. Several strands hung loosely near her temple. “Hallo. Kann ich dir helfen?”

  Josef gave her a generous smile. “Mein Name ist Josef Schmitt und das ist Anna Abrams.”

  Anna smiled. As soon as he started rambling in German, she watched the woman’s every move. Her tilted head. A frown. A few nods. Josef finally finished with what sounded like his grand finale of statements.

  The woman nodded. “Ja. Der Name meines Vaters ist Gunther.”

  Josef turned to Anna. “Her father’s name is Gunther.”

  “Oh, I speak some English.” The woman glanced between them. “So you search for a man with his name?”

  “Yes,” said Anna. “I’m visiting Germany on behalf of a friend of mine from America, who asked me to find a man with your father’s name.” Anna gave her a brief explanation of why they were here.

  “I see.” She frowned. “My Vater rarely shares much about the war days, but I do remember him once telling a story about helping two boys left without parents. Perhaps he is the man you seek.” She stepped aside. “Please come in. My name is Britta. Join me for some coffee. I just made a pot. Vater is resting but should wake soon.”

  They entered the foyer. Anna held her excitement close.

  Britta led them down a hallway of blond wood floors that ended in a modern kitchen with skylights, granite counters, and a simple farm table near a sliding door.

  “Please. Have a seat.”

  As she poured their coffee
and arranged a plate of cookies, Anna removed the picture of the two men. She made eye contact with the photographed young Isaak, hoping his spirit watched this moment. Hoping it was their last stop.

  Britta placed the mugs down and the cookies in the center of the table. “My father is not doing well lately, but at his age, we cannot complain about his health. It has been good until the past two years.”

  Anna reached for her mug and sipped the rich brew. “The Gunther Hinzmann I’m looking for once lived in Frankfurt, on…” Anna tried to remember the street name.

  “Staufenstraße,” said Josef.

  Britta’s brows lifted. “Ah, yes. Vater lived there in his family’s house until they moved to Wiesbaden to stay with relatives when the bombing in Frankfurt worsened.”

  “Did he serve in the Wehrmacht?” Josef asked.

  “No, no.” Britta leaned back in her seat. “He lost his arm in a factory accident at the age of um…” She glanced at Josef. “Sechszehn?”

  “Sixteen.”

  “Ja, sixteen. The military would not take him. Though he did do work for the state labor department for some time.”

  Josef glanced at Anna. She remembered their conversation the first day she’d shown him the photo.

  “I have a picture of my friend with the man we are trying to find.” She pushed the black-and-white photo towards Britta.

  The corners of Britta’s mouth lifted into a faint smile. “Oh, yes. My dashing father in his younger days.” She glanced up. “And this younger man, he is your friend in America who lived in Frankfurt, too?”

  “He is…” A blend of bittersweet joy and relief flooded Anna’s body. The joy of finding Gunther and sharing Isaak’s thanks would come with the sad news of his death. “He was my friend. He recently lost a battle with cancer.”

  “Oh. I am sorry.” Britta shook her head as she returned the picture to Anna. “Can you tell me what happened back then? My vater said that the boys’ parents were victims of what happened on Kristallnacht. But he would not say more.”

  Anna bit back her discomfort and shared what she knew, every horrible detail.

  Britta’s eyes filled with tears. “Those poor boys.” Her shoulders dropped and tone went flat. “Hitler. A madman, bringing grief to so many. The elders in my family hated that party. Refused to join. All but one aunt on my Mutter’s side.” Her lips pursed.

  Josef frowned, carrying the same dejected expression on his face as Britta. “Let us hope such power never infiltrates our government again.”

  Anna tried to imagine living in a place where the leader inspired bigotry and anti-Semitism, and took away people’s rights. She couldn’t. But many Germans had never expected Hitler to become so powerful, yet he had.

  Britta patted Anna’s hand and stood. “Let me see if mein Vater has woken up. Maybe I can get him to sit up in his chair. His mind is still sharp; only his body is failing him. He does not speak English, but Josef and I can translate. I will call down to you if he is ready.”

  As she walked away, Anna stood and went over to the set of sliding doors leading out to a back patio. The weight of the moment pressed to her chest. Happiness. Justice. Sadness. All part of the story that brought them to this point.

  Josef’s chair scraped on the floor and he appeared at her side. As he stared out the window, he took her hand, as if doing so were the most natural thing in the world for him to do. “I am excited to meet Gunther. I confess, a little nervous.”

  “Me, too.” She looked up, wandered in the blue-green hue of his eyes. The familiar scent of his after-shave coiled around her, while the warmth of his hand leveled her anxiousness. “I’m glad you’re here with me.”

  His eyes softened. For a moment they stood, neither moving. He smiled, so gently his lips barely curved.

  She placed a palm against the soft grain of his cheek. “And I have you to thank for us finding Gunther today.”

  “We worked as a team,” he said quietly. He placed his hand on her shoulder and stroked her neck with this thumb.

  “Anna, Josef?” Britta yelled from the second level. “You may come up.”

  They stood for a moment, one she wished wasn’t about to end. Josef drew in a deep breath. “Let us go.”

  * * * *

  Anna sat on the edge of the bed watching Britta, who squatted by her father’s wheelchair. In one hand, she held Isaak’s letter, reading it to him in German—as Isaak had written it. Britta’s slender fingers wrapped tightly around her father’s unsteady hand as his square chin trembled and tears leaked from the edges of his eyes, making Anna’s do the same. Decades had changed the man in the photograph. His dark hair had turned silver. Thin age spots dotted his temples, and his bulbous nose had widened, now filling his face.

  Meeting Gunther, the brass ring of her journey, left her with a mixed bag of emotions. Delivering this letter brought to life Isaak’s words from beyond the grave. A quiet honor to all those who’d risked their lives during the war. People she’d only read about, but their stories would forever reside in her heart. It left her with hope that if someone in her own lineage had faced the same brutalities, they were able to find saviors, too.

  Heaviness pressed its weight to her shoulders. She’d give anything to have Isaak here at this moment. Gunther’s raw emotion filled the small bedroom, touching them all. Emotions no doubt stirred by reminders of the war and the fears he’d lived with on a daily basis. Yet, every so often, he’d smile at something his daughter read, hopefully taking joy in the story of Isaak’s survival.

  Anna glanced at Josef, who leaned against the bedroom door with his arms crossed, watching Gunther. In Josef’s glistening eyes, Anna saw compassion and sadness.

  His gaze drifted to her, searched her face. A second later he stepped over and sat next to her on the bed’s edge.

  Leaning close, he whispered in her ear, “I will translate the letter for you when she is through.”

  His hand slipped into hers, his touch instant comfort to her soul. She might never have fulfilled this mission without him at her side. She rested her head on his shoulder and he leaned in. She’d stood alone with her problems for so long that she’d almost forgotten how good support could feel.

  Britta finished and reached out to her father, hugging him as he sobbed.

  Anna’s eyes blurred, and she turned to Josef, just in time to catch a tear rolling down his cheek. He gave her a sad smile and put an arm around her.

  For a long moment, they all sat in silence with their tears and thoughts. Perhaps all that could exist at a time like this.

  After a minute, Anna looked at the elderly man. “Gunther?” He sat staring at his lap and slowly lifted his head. “Valor like yours inspires people. It inspires me, though I’m not sure I possess your bravery.”

  Britta translated. Gunther reached out for Anna, so she moved to his side and took his hand. He responded, his voice sounding very sad.

  His daughter nodded. “My father says the risk was the same if you did nothing, so he did what he could.”

  Isaak’s note to Anna had said something similar about risk. She imagined that the young man and teenage boy had spoken about what they were doing, possibly agreeing on the sentiment about taking chances during such a dangerous time.

  Britta added, “He only wishes he could have helped more people.”

  Anna squeezed the man’s hand. A true hero, even if he wouldn’t embrace the title.

  Gunther talked to Britta. She leaned back, listened. A moment later, she looked at Anna. “My father kept in touch over the years with the Lambert family in Belgium. They helped him by taking in Isaak and his brother to get him out of Germany. When Belgium was invaded, the family managed to get Isaak to England, but then lost track of him after that. He wonders if you might be able to visit them. Share this letter?”

  “Well, I suppose I—”

  G
unther started to speak so she waited. How on earth would she find a family in Belgium? She glanced at Josef, who listened to Gunther.

  “Ah, I see.” Britta got seated in a chair next to the dresser. “My father has their address. They own a farmhouse outside of Bruges, still in the family. Up until about ten years ago he kept in touch with them. The children of his friends now run the farm. The kids used to spend time with the two boys, while they were in hiding. I am sure they would love to see this letter and meet you.”

  “I can try. I am not sure how far—”

  Josef said something to Gunther then turned to Anna. “We will go. I want to take you.”

  She nodded, because the depth in his eyes proved to her that he didn’t mind doing it at all.

  For the next half hour, Gunther asked questions about Isaak’s life in New York. Anna answered as best she could, with both Josef and Britta switching back and forth between English and German. Gunther shared stories about his friendship with a spunky boy named Isaak, who lived on his street. Anna laughed, because although she only knew Isaak as an older man, she told Gunther that he still had spunk until the very end.

  By the time they finished, Anna believed she had found a friend in Gunther, a sweet and intelligent man who had a heart of gold. As she hugged him goodbye, she felt the frail bones beneath his sweater. Would she ever see him again? She hoped so.

  Once downstairs, they exchanged email addresses. Britta took Anna’s hands. “My father shared stories with you I have never heard. I am glad he finally did. I think it is good for him to talk about such things.” She drew her close. “Thank you for making this trip.”

  She hugged Britta tight. “I will let you know how our visit to Bruges goes.”

  They returned to Josef’s car and started a quiet ride back through the busy city of Weisbaden.

  As they entered the city proper, Josef glanced Anna’s way. “So we will decide on a day to drive to Bruges? We may need to stay overnight, unless you want to drive the distance in one day. It is about five hours each way.”

  “Is Bruges nice?”