My Brother's Secret

by Dan Smith

  ‘Hang the Jews! Line the fat cats up against the wall!’

  One group of spectators had clustered so tightly together that they blocked the pavement. To get past, we had to bump the wheel down the kerb and make our way along the edge of the road. Lisa tugged harder on the bike than necessary and jostled past two women as we went. When I looked across at her, her jaw was tight, and her expression was like thunder.

  ‘Stupid Nazis,’ she muttered again, and I willed her not to say it any louder.

  I was taking the weight on the right side of the bike – the side that was closest to the approaching parade – and, as the boys came closer and closer, I knew there would be barely enough room for them to get past.

  ‘I’ll take it,’ I said to Lisa. ‘I’ll bring the bike. You get behind me.’ A great sense of urgency was building in me. There wasn’t much time. A few more seconds and the marching boys would be right here.

  ‘No. Just keep going.’ Lisa raised her voice and her knuckles whitened as gripped the handlebars harder.

  The sound of boots grew louder.

  ‘There’s not enough room,’ I told her. ‘Please. Just get behind me.’

  ‘Why should I?’ She scowled at the boys who were now only a few steps away. ‘It’s not their road.’

  ‘Just—’

  ‘Get out of the way you idiots!’ shouted the flag bearer closest to us.

  ‘Who are you calling idiot?’ Lisa snapped back at him.

  ‘Get off the road, Lisa!’

  As soon as I heard the boy call her by name, I realised that Lisa would know him from school. In fact, she would know most of them, but that didn’t change anything. She just pulled a face at the boy and lifted the front of the bike. ‘Keep going,’ she said to me. ‘Come on.’

  ‘No. Wait.’ I let go of the handlebars and hurried around the front of the bike, going to Lisa’s side. The bicycle was like a barrier between us and the parade. ‘Please,’ I said to her. ‘What’s the matter with you?’

  ‘It’s our road too.’ There was such a frown on her face now that I thought she might explode as she tugged on the bike, trying to make me go on.

  ‘Salute!’ one of the boys shouted at us, but we could hardly hear his voice over the sound of the trumpets and drums that were now just a few steps away. Their rhythm pounded in our ears like the heartbeat of an angry beast.

  More of the boys had noticed us now. As we wrestled with the bike, most of the drummers turned to glare at us as they passed. Their hands worked like pistons, the drumsticks rising and falling like hammers.

  To one side of us, the bystanders stood on the pavement with their arms outstretched in salute. On the other, the boys marched and drummed.

  Lisa and I were sandwiched between them, and I felt more and more trapped as the boys paraded past and more faces turned to watch us.

  ‘Move!’ said one as he jostled past.

  ‘Out of the way, you idiots!’ said another.

  ‘Salute!’

  The closest drummer glared over his shoulder as he passed, and then the trumpeters were alongside us, each of them with his head facing forward, but his eyes turned to watch us.

  Lisa nudged me aside and pulled at the handlebars, lifting the front wheel of the bike. ‘Come on,’ she said. ‘Keep going.’

  ‘Just wait.’ I reached across her and put my hand on hers, but she struggled, trying to snatch away, and for a moment, neither of us was holding the bicycle.

  The trumpeters trumpeted. The drummers drummed. The marchers marched and sang with their boots thump-thump-thumping on the road.

  And the bicycle toppled.

  There was nothing I could do. Even though my eyes saw it in slow motion and my mind knew what was going to happen, my body just couldn’t keep up.

  I tried to grab it. I stretched out both arms, but Lisa was too close to me, blocking me. The end of the handlebars brushed my fingertips as the bike went down. It fell sideways, towards the parade, just as the fifth row of Deutsches Jungvolk marched past.

  The closest boy saw that it was going to collapse right into his path. He was about my age, but smaller, with cropped hair beneath his cap. He had a round face that was mottled with light freckles, and his pale eyes widened as soon as he realised what was happening. He tried to adjust his step, breaking time with the rest of the boys so that he could avoid the falling bicycle. The boy directly behind him hadn’t noticed, though, and he barrelled into Freckles, pushing him hard enough to reach the bicycle at exactly the right time for his foot to come down on top of the front wheel as it collapsed to the road.

  His ankle twisted on the spokes and he crumpled like an infantryman cut down on the battlefield. The boy behind couldn’t do anything other than crash into him, falling over his comrade as the next boy stumbled and tripped.

  The three of them went down in a bundle of arms and legs, causing the boys in front to turn and wonder at the commotion, while the ones behind toppled over them in a heap.

  After that, the parade collapsed into chaos.

  EDELWEISS PIRATES

  Boys were bumping into boys. They were falling over one another and jostling for space as the march came to a confused halt. The trumpets petered out with a few squeaks and squawks and the drums stopped banging. The air was filled with the cursing and shouting of angry boys and there was a sharp intake of breath from the crowd behind us, followed by a long moment of silence that was punctuated by one or two giggles and people stifling their laughter.

  Lisa and I could only stare.

  ‘You!’

  I shook my head and looked across at one of the older boys pointing right at us.

  ‘You! Lisa Herz!’

  He was a big boy, probably seventeen years old, almost a man really. Taller than Stefan and thicker set. His uniform was pristine, making him look like a real soldier.

  ‘You did this!’ he shouted as he began to work his way through the collapsed boys who were trying to get to their feet. He took off his cap as he came, gripping it hard in his left fist, and I knew what was on his mind. He wanted to hurt someone for ruining his parade.

  I started to look around, searching for a way out, but there was nowhere to go. The road in front of us was blocked by the chaos that had once been a well-organised parade, with many of the boys now looking at Lisa and me – and they didn’t look happy. Behind us, the crowd of bystanders was jostling for space, trying to see what was happening.

  There was no escape route.

  The boy was coming closer now, pushing others out of his way, his eyes fixed on us like he couldn’t see anything else. Anger burned in his eyes. He stepped over boys still on the ground, his head lowered like a bull about to charge. His thick shoulders were raised and his face was set hard like concrete.

  Beside me, Lisa planted her feet firmly on the ground and waited for him to come. She was preparing to fight him, but she was a girl. She wasn’t supposed to fight.

  As the boy came closer, I stepped in front of Lisa and put up my fists.

  He was far too big and bullish for me, though; I didn’t stand a chance.

  ‘You stupid weakling,’ he said as he stepped over the nearest boy and swung his fist.

  To my surprise, I deflected the first strike. I feinted to the left and knocked his fist aside, sending it swinging wildly into thin air. His other fist came in right away, but I leaned back and managed to deflect that too, then I stepped towards him and punched straight up at his face.

  He was too tall for me to reach my intended target, but I was shocked when my fist connected with the underside of his chin. There was a clatter of teeth for him and searing agony for me. Pain exploded in my knuckles, ballooning out across my hand and right up my wrist.

  The boy stepped back to steady himself, and I shook my hand to wave away the pain, but it blinded me. It was like my hand had been plunged into a furnace. I looked at my fingers, half expecting to see flames licking about them, and that’s when the boy came at me with his third punch.
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br />   It was like being hit with a steel bar. The Führer would have been proud of that boy’s strength. His fist caught me on my left cheekbone, jarring my head to the right, shooting pain down my neck and shoulders. I spun to one side as my legs gave way and there was a moment when my head filled with darkness. The shadow swallowed me up, and when it spat me out again, I was lying on the floor beside my bicycle and the big boy was standing over me.

  I looked up at him, wondering, for a moment, who he was.

  As it came back to me, the boy lifted one foot and cocked his leg back as if he was about to kick a football. Except instead of a football, his boot was aimed at my head.

  ‘No!’ There was a cry from behind me and Lisa came into view, flying at my attacker, flailing her fists in front of her. Slamming straight into him, she forced the boy backwards so that he bumped into one of the Deutsches Jungvolk who was struggling to his feet.

  The boy who had hit me lost his balance. His arms whipped out in front of him as if he might be able to grab Lisa and stop himself from falling, but he was too heavy and too far gone. His fingers raked along the front of Lisa’s dress as he dropped, his right hand catching in her pocket and ripping it off, and then he hit the ground.

  Even from where I was lying, I saw the carved flower spin away from Lisa’s torn pocket.

  Up and up, it went, round and round, turning in the air as it arced upwards before tumbling towards the ground. Except it didn’t ever reach the ground.

  Instead of hitting the road and bouncing away where it could cause no harm, the small wooden edelweiss dropped right onto my attacker’s chest.

  For a moment, Lisa stood over him, triumphant, while I lay behind her, dazed and shocked.

  Then the boy noticed the flower lying on his chest, and some kind of recognition flashed in his eyes.

  He lifted a hand and picked up the carving, holding it between his finger and thumb so the petals were pointing towards the sky.

  He stared at it for what felt like a very long time, then looked at us once more as a clear expression of distaste spread across his face. His lip curled and he took a deep breath before pointing a finger and shouting two words.

  ‘Edelweiss Pirates!’

  He might as well have shouted ‘British soldiers!’ or ‘Russians!’ or even ‘Spies!’

  First the boys around him looked at their comrade lying on the floor at their feet. Then they looked at his finger pointing in our direction. Then they looked at us.

  Lisa took the chance to help me to my feet as the boy who had hit me drew himself up to his full height. He held the carved flower out towards us as if it were some kind of accusation, and spat the words again.

  ‘Edelweiss Pirates.’

  He threw the wooden flower at me so that it bounced off my chest and landed on the road at my feet.

  Lisa put a hand on my arm and together we stepped back so that the kerb was against our heels.

  The crowd pressed up against us, blocking our escape and I glanced left and right, seeing no way out.

  Other boys fell in behind the one who had hit me. First two, then three, four, five, six, until it was impossible for us to count how many boys were standing in a semi-circle around us.

  The world closed in on me. My heart pounded like a blacksmith’s hammer. My vision swirled and brightened and became crystal clear. It was as if there were nothing in the world but me, Lisa, and those boys in front of us. My body was preparing itself for what was about to happen. There were only two things for me to do. I could either run or I could fight. But there was nowhere for me to run. No way out.

  I would have to fight.

  My tongue was as dry as summer dust and it stuck to the roof of my mouth as I edged in front of Lisa. I knew I couldn’t beat these boys, but I had to do what I could. I had to put myself before Lisa. They would have to deal with me first. Except Lisa disagreed. She moved out from behind me and stood by my side, shoulder to shoulder.

  She raised her fists when I raised mine.

  The boys didn’t laugh at our defiant stance, though; they didn’t even smile.

  They advanced.

  THE WOLFF GROWLS

  It was Kriminalinspektor Gerhard Wolff who saved our skins.

  He appeared as if from nowhere, stepping into the small patch of empty road in front of Lisa and me.

  He stood with his back to us and held up a hand, making the boys stop and glance at each other.

  ‘Stay where you are.’ Without taking his eyes off them, Wolff crouched and picked up the little wooden flower. He slipped it into his pocket as he stood up.

  ‘You saw what they did,’ said the one who had hit me. His fists were still tight, and he took a step closer. ‘This girl—’

  ‘I said “stay where you are”.’ Wolff didn’t raise his voice; he lowered it. And there was something about it that reminded me of the way a dog drops its head and snarls. Not a loud bark, but a low and dangerous growl.

  The boy stopped in his tracks.

  ‘Good.’ Wolff’s tone returned to normal, as if he were wishing the boy a good morning. ‘I’m surprised at you, Erich Mann; I shouldn’t have to remind you who I am.’

  Erich took a step back now. The grim expression fell from his face, to be replaced with surprise. His fists loosened. ‘I … sir …’ Then he seemed to remember himself. He snapped his heels together and raised his arm. ‘Heil Hitler.’

  The others followed suit.

  ‘Yes, yes. Heil Hitler.’ Wolff half raised his arm in much the same way as I had seen the Führer do on the news-reels. A sort of half-salute, as if he couldn’t be bothered to extend his arm completely.

  ‘Sir,’ Erich said, ‘I know this girl. She’s called Lisa Herz, and I have reason to believe these two are Edelweiss—’

  ‘I will make that decision for myself.’

  ‘But you know what that badge is? The one that—’

  ‘I’m perfectly aware of what it is,’ said Wolff. ‘But this is no concern of yours. I will get to the bottom of this.’

  The boys stayed where they were, but the leader was looking past Wolff, staring right at me.

  ‘You need to move now,’ said Wolff. ‘Organise yourselves and carry on. This is supposed to be a parade.’

  Some of the boys shared a few glances.

  ‘You’re not hooligans,’ Wolff warned. ‘You think the Führer wants street-brawlers in his army? No, no, no. He wants disciplined soldiers.’

  Erich continued to glare, but the others looked at the ground and started to move away, helping their comrades to reorganise the parade. Many of the Hitler Youth had reformed their lines and the group leaders were bringing the younger boys into formation.

  ‘I know who you are,’ Erich pointed at Lisa. ‘I know where you live.’

  ‘And I know where you live.’ Wolff lowered his voice again and fixed Erich Mann with his steely stare. ‘Now, off you go. Unless you wish to pay a visit to Headquarters.’

  Erich swallowed hard and saluted once more before heading off to help with the reorganisation. As he gave his orders, though, he couldn’t help looking over in our direction.

  ‘Pick up your bicycle,’ Wolff said without taking his eyes off Erich.

  My hands were shaking as I pulled up the bike, and my arms felt full of energy.

  Once it was upright, Lisa grabbed the handlebars nearest to her and we lifted the front wheel off the ground before moving back onto the pavement. It was only then that we realised we had such a large audience. A large crowd had formed around us, all the people straining to see what was going on, but not one of them had come to our help. Some of them had probably been too afraid to do anything, but others would have been glad to see us beaten up by the Hitler Youth.

  They parted in front of us, and I glared at all the adult faces around me; faces of people who had done nothing to help us. I was sure I caught a glimpse of Frau Oster, shaking her head in disapproval.

  Wolff followed us through the crowd, leaving the parade and the
onlookers behind as we broke through onto the clear pavement and headed home.

  ‘You were lucky I was there.’ Wolff was wearing the same suit and the same shiny shoes as he had been on the day of our crash. His hat was pulled low so that it almost covered his eyebrows and there was the same smell of aftershave around him.

  ‘You have a good punch, though. I imagine you’ve practised it a lot.’

  I shrugged, feeling the ache in my neck, and put a hand to my cheek, where it was sore. I imagined I’d have a black eye tomorrow.

  ‘And you’ve got spirit,’ Wolff went on. ‘But it seems you also have a gift for getting into trouble.’ He put his hands in his pockets and we continued along the high street.

  Being so close to him made me prickle with fear, and despite everything that had just happened, I couldn’t help thinking about poor Herr Finkel, bloodied and beaten.

  ‘So are you going to thank me?’ Wolff said after a while. ‘For saving your skins?’

  ‘Thank you, sir,’ I muttered.

  ‘Well.’ He stopped and looked around. ‘I think this should be far enough. You’ll be safe now.’

  Lisa and I came to a halt beside him and he leaned closer to me. ‘If I walk you all the way home we might scare your oma and opa again – and we don’t want to do that now do we? They might think you’ve been telling me their secrets.’ He winked, making me shudder inside, and stood back as if he were about to leave. ‘Do you have any secrets you want to tell me?’

  ‘No, sir.’

  ‘Hmm.’ Then a puzzled expression crossed his face and he held up a finger. ‘Oh, there is one thing you could tell me,’ he said. ‘You could tell me about this.’

  He removed his other hand from his pocket and showed me the little carved flower that had caused so much trouble.

  I stared at it and wondered what I should say.

  ‘I found it,’ Lisa said. ‘Some boys dropped it.’ There was hatred in her voice.

  ‘And would you recognise them if you saw them again?’ Wolff asked.

  ‘It was a long way off,’ she muttered. ‘They could have been anybody.’