The Daughters of Marburg

by Terrance Williamson

  “After you.” Mr. Sommer held out his hand, but Lilly caught the wavering in his voice, and she sensed that he, too, was unnerved. She believed that he was attempting to maintain the pretense that this was acceptable.

  “I couldn’t,” Edith spoke politely and stared wide-eyed at her father.

  “As you wish.” Mr. Sommer puffed out his chest and, with a firm nod to reassure himself, entered the house and disappeared into the darkness, leaving his two daughters standing alone in the street.

  Lilly wasn’t entirely sure what she was waiting for, but she incapable of moving. Slowly, she looked over at Edith to see that she, too, was of the same paralyzed opinion. Nothing emitted from inside the house, and the wind further down the street rustled the dried, winter leaves behind them. Part of Lilly wondered if the house had ingested their father whole.

  “What are you doing?” Mr. Sommer asked when he returned to find his daughters incapacitated.

  Suddenly, the door to the house beside them opened and an older woman, well into her sixties, rushed outside in a huff. Muttering to herself, the woman had clearly been involved in some sort of spat and, by her soft, flowery dress, Lilly discerned that she was likely the mistress of the house. With her hands on her hips, the woman began pacing but, when she turned in the direction of the Sommers, nearly collapsed in terror to see them gawking at her.

  “What in heaven’s name are you doing?” the woman glared at them, yet her voice was so sweet that even when she spoke crossly, Lilly thought it sounded polite.

  “I apologize.” Mr. Sommer exited the house and approached their neighbor briskly, followed by the two girls. “We didn’t mean to give you a fright. We just had a rather alarming arrival, and we’re still in shock.”

  “I thought you were ghosts!” The woman chuckled slightly to ease the tension but then glanced behind them at the house as if she hadn’t ruled out the paranormal.

  “I can assure you that we’re quite real.” Mr. Sommer gave a slight nod in formal greeting. “I am Mr. Sommer. Mr. Karl Sommer, that is. These are my daughters, Edith and Lilly.”

  The girls gave quick, polite curtsies.

  “You’re the new neighbors then?” The woman grew excited.

  “That’s correct.” Mr. Sommer concurred.

  “Oh, I’m delighted to make your acquaintance.” The woman cheerfully looked at each of them. “I’m Mrs. Baumann.”

  “Pleasure to meet you.” Mr. Sommer gave a respectful yet slight bow of the head. “Please do not take offense at our abrupt departure now, but as I stated, we had a rather alarming arrival, and we still need to unpack.” He pointed to the girls’ bags that they had left by the door.

  “Alarming, you say?” Mrs. Baumann turned her ear, and it was evident to Lilly that she enjoyed a bit of gossip, possibly a little too much for her own good. “In what way?”

  “I shouldn’t distress you with the details,” Mr. Sommer spoke as he took a small step away. Lilly smiled slightly as she understood the great pains he was enduring.

  Her father rarely enjoyed discussing anything that he deemed inconsequential. Time was everything to a man of Mr. Sommer’s disposition, and Lilly found that their conversations seldom endured longer than necessary as, sadly, her father considered most of her interests as inconsequential.

  “Oh, it’s not distressing at all.” Mrs. Baumann stepped towards them as she closed the little gap that Mr. Sommer had created, locking him into position. If he dared move away again, it would be undeniably rude, and Lilly recognized that her father was trapped in a conversation that he craved release from before it had even begun.

  “Another time, perhaps.” Mr. Sommer’s voice shook as he understood the attempt was in vain.

  “Nonsense.” Mrs. Baumann waved in her dismissal. “I’m not busy. I have plenty of time.”

  “Alright,” Mr. Sommer sighed. Lilly found it odd that Mrs. Baumann hadn’t discerned his anguish as she looked at him eagerly for the details. “There was a

  man—”

  “The man who jumped in front of the train!” Mrs. Baumann threw a hand over her mouth as she looked at the girls in horror. “I can’t believe that you two precious creatures had to witness that.”

  “How did you know?” Mr. Sommer looked at her suspiciously.

  “News travels quickly in Marburg,” Mrs. Baumann whispered as she leaned forward.

  “Yes, well, there you have it.” Mr. Sommer was pleased that he didn’t have to delve into the details. “Now, I do apologize, but I really must be getting the property in order.”

  “Just you wait!” Mrs. Baumann held up a finger as she turned towards her house. “I have something for you!”

  “God in heaven!” Mr. Sommer muttered under his breath, and Lilly offered a quick smile at Edith, who returned the gesture.

  “Walter!” Mrs. Baumann opened the door and screamed into the house as every trace of her sweetness disappeared. “Bring the ginger crumb cake! Our neighbors are here!”

  Silence.

  Wondering what the protocol was in this situation, Lilly glanced at her father, but he simply stood there with a dejected countenance and in desperate need of peace and quiet.

  “I do apologize.” Mrs. Baumann turned her head towards the family as she held the door open. “My husband is quite useless. His hearing ‘disappears’ when I ask him to do anything. He’s worse than a child, really.”

  “We can return tomorrow if you’d prefer?” Mr. Sommer continued to stare at the pavement in front of him.

  “It’s much better if you have it fresh,” Mrs. Baumann insisted and then again shouted into the house, “Walter, you lazy oaf! I know you can hear me.”

  “What’s all the shouting about?” A young man arrived at the door and, at once, Lilly was stricken.

  He wasn’t necessarily handsome in the traditional sense, and not as well-dressed as the men in Berlin, but he was strapping with broad shoulders and a sturdy jawline, which was clean-shaven. With raven-black hair that swooped casually to the side and hazel-brown eyes that pierced her soul, Lilly was in love, despite the fact that he was at least two years her senior.

  “Get your grandpa off his backside and tell him to fetch the ginger crumb cake that I made for the neighbors here.” Mrs. Baumann gave a slight nudge against his arm.

  “That was for them?” The grandson looked apologetically at Mrs. Baumann before glancing over at the sisters.

  To Lilly’s distress, he barely noticed her at all as his gaze lingered on Edith. A horrid feeling formed in her gut, and a wicked thought arose that she scarcely dared to acknowledge. Still, despite her conscience, she couldn’t deny that she wished Edith was not with them so that this young man would’ve paid attention to her instead.

  “Wilhelm”—Mrs. Baumann pointed her finger in his face—“tell me you didn’t eat it.”

  “I…” Wilhelm looked at his grandmother in terror.

  “How much of it did you eat?” Mrs. Baumann tilted her head as she glared at him with harbored rage.

  “Grandpa helped.” Wilhelm swallowed.

  “You two”—Mrs. Baumann put her fists up to her face as she inhaled deeply to contain her wrath—“are going to be the death of me.”

  “I didn’t know!” Wilhelm defended.

  “Then maybe, for future reference, it would be good practice to not consume everything that you come into contact with under the assumption that it is yours by divine right!” Mrs. Baumann’s eyes bulged.

  “I’m—” Wilhelm began, but Mrs. Baumann held up a finger to stop him.

  “I’m forgetting myself.” Mrs. Baumann pinched her forehead to relieve the stress. “Mr. Sommer, this is my grandson, Wilhelm. He’s staying with us while his parents are in Africa.”

  “Africa?” Mr. Sommer grew intrigued. “Whereabouts? What are they doing there?”

  “They’re in the medical profession. Last I heard, they were—” Wilhelm began but was again stopped by Mrs. Baumann.

  “They don’t want to h
ear about that.” Mrs. Baumann waved in dismissal, and Lilly watched as her father’s shoulders slouched faintly as the only interesting part of the conversation, in his opinion, was swept away briskly.

  “I should think that I’d rather enjoy hearing about it, actually,” Mr. Sommer spoke with a hint of spite, and Lilly wondered how much longer he could contain himself.

  “Another time, perhaps.” Mrs. Baumann smiled slightly. “I’ll prepare something for you tomorrow instead, and I’ll deliver it later.”

  “That’s too kind,” Mr. Sommer spoke with some relief that the conversation was dwindling to an end.

  “Oh, I was going to mention”—Mrs. Baumann paused, and Lilly noticed her father’s shoulders retightening with impatience—“the family that lived there was Jewish.”

  “I’m aware.” Mr. Sommer nodded.

  “They seemed like nice people, but I’ve heard of other houses in town that were vacated in the same manner and were the subject of terrible curses. Be careful what you disturb in your new home.”

  Slowly, Lilly turned and looked again at the house and felt a creeping in her spirit as if she were being watched by the spirits lurking inside.

  “Anyways”—Mrs. Baumann returned to her cheerfulness—“it was nice to make your acquaintance. I’ll make sure to send over something for you tomorrow.”

  With that, Mrs. Baumann closed the door and left a slightly shell-shocked Sommer family outside, wondering what they had done to deserve these neighbors.

  “I know you heard me!” Mrs. Baumann shouted from inside, and Lilly shook her head in amusement.

  “I think,” Mr. Sommer began with a cheeky grin, “that I should never want to endure that again.”

  “We’ll have to plan an extra ten minutes to any future ventures from the house,” Edith snickered.

  “I vote that we simply use Edith as bait.” Lilly grinned.

  “Why me?” Edith frowned.

  “I saw the way Wilhelm glanced at you,” Lilly spoke with a hint of jealousy. “You’ll be courting in no time.”

  “When have I ever courted?” Edith threw her hands onto her hips. “And who uses such an outdated term? Your novels will be the death of romance.”

  “Would you ladies like to continue fighting inside?” Mr. Sommer glanced between the two girls.

  “Inside?” Edith looked at her father with fear dominating her expression.

  “Do you think there really is a curse?” Lilly asked quietly while not breaking off her gaze from the house.

  “Of course not.” Mr. Sommer frowned as he glanced at Lilly but then returned his attention to the house with an ominous gaze. “It would be irrational to believe in such nonsense. It’s important to ground yourself in science. There is nothing that would indicate such things as curses are real.”

  “That’s a shame,” Lilly sighed.

  “What do you mean?” Mr. Sommer shot her a confused glance.

  “Life feels more mysterious otherwise.” Lilly shrugged. “Despite the fact that such a possibility would be terrifying, I’m somehow disappointed in the alternative.”

  “My dear”—Mr. Sommer patted her shoulder—“I’m sure you’ll find there are still plenty of mysteries to be uncovered.”

  “I’m tired,” Edith groaned. “Let’s get inside.”

  “Agreed.” Mr. Sommer nodded and, with a deep breath, marched forward boldly as he was followed by his daughters.

  Entering behind her father, Lilly’s anxiety about the house delved into further unease. The interior of the dwelling was dark mahogany, and it gave off a rich fragrance as though it had existed in this property for centuries. While the house was aged, it was still in excellent condition, and the previous owners had gone to great lengths to ensure its longevity.

  After passing through the small foyer and being careful not to disturb the red jacket on the floor, Lilly came to a dining room and was shocked to find that the table was set. She wondered who had been so kind to have arranged this for them when she noticed that there was dust on the silverware. It was then that she understood a harrowing truth. This was not set for them, but rather, for the previous family. They had been evacuated in such a hurry that they didn’t even have time to put the house in order.

  Then, after setting her suitcase down, Lilly noticed an array of framed photographs hanging on the wall at the opposite end of the dining room. Gradually, she walked over to inspect them as she ran her hands along the silk tablecloth. Standing before the photos, she studied the faces of those who had likely stood where she was now.

  There was a singular photo of an elderly woman, who Lilly assumed was the grandmother. Then, there were a couple of photos of men in uniform, and she thought that perhaps they were cousins or men in the family who had served during the Great War. Whatever the case, it was clear that the family was proud of their contribution to their country.

  But when she looked at the main photograph of the family, a chill ran down her spine. She had locked eyes with the severe gaze of the father of the house as he stood behind his wife, who was sitting in a chair, and a daughter about Lilly’s age who was also standing behind the mother. The man stared back at her with malice for her intrusion into their home, and she nearly jumped backward in fright.

  Still, the most disturbing aspect of this encounter was how strikingly similar this man appeared to her father. They were both clean-shaven with dark eyes, and the man in the photograph had a medal pinned to his chest that she recognized as being identical to the one her father received in the war. The girl, too, appeared strangely alike Lilly with a bright, white dress with a beautiful, stitched flower pattern and long, white gloves.

  A knock rattled against the door frame near the foyer, and Lilly spun around quickly to see her father standing there. With a slight nod, he indicated that she should follow him. Not wanting to be alone any longer, she happily agreed and met up with Edith and her father in the foyer.

  Leading them up a narrow flight of stairs, Mr. Sommer dragged the baggage behind him until they came to the second floor. With a huff, he set the bags down before straightening his back as it cracked.

  Lilly was thankful, at least, that this floor was as bright as she had initially hoped, and she glanced out the windows at the end of the hall, which were streaming in the sunlight.

  “Now, it appears that this house has ample space compared to our old home in Berlin,” he began as he looked around the property, “which means that you two no longer have to share a room.”

  “Really?” Lilly glanced at Edith nervously.

  While in Berlin she despised having to cohabitate with her sister, she didn’t dare sleep alone in this house, especially not during the first night. Even though it was still daytime, and the large windows allowed for the light to pour inside, she knew that the night would bring nothing but terror.

  “I’m contented to share,” Edith nodded adamantly, “if that is acceptable to Lilly?”

  “Yes!” Lilly blurted.

  “You intend to share? Still?” Mr. Sommer frowned at the girls.

  “Yes!” Lilly blurted again.

  “Fine”—Mr. Sommer shook his head—“but if there are any arguments, any at all, I will not hesitate to separate you.”

  “Understood,” the girls replied in unison.

  “If these are the arrangements”—he cleared his throat—“then you two can take that room down at the end of the hall, and I will occupy this one.” He pointed in the opposite direction. “I should mention to be careful not to disturb anything of value. The Nazis will be coming later in the week, the same day our movers are arriving, to assess what they can procure for sale.”

  Quickly, the girls grabbed their luggage and walked briskly towards the room, desperate to find the haven that they craved. Entering the room, Lilly sighed in her relief as she found it to be bright and warm and painted a light hue of blue. She assumed that it was likely the girl’s room in the photograph that she had seen downstairs.

  “Only one b
ed.” Edith threw her hands onto her hips.

  “We’ll round up another bed tomorrow. I’m sure they have one in another bedroom. We’ll have to share for the night.”

  “They didn’t even bother to make the bed.” Edith frowned, and Lilly noticed that the sheets were disheveled. Whoever was sleeping here had likely been forced to flee in the middle of the night.

  “Looks like they left most of their clothes behind, too.” Lilly pointed at a dresser beside the bed where the top drawer had been left open and a white sleeve drooped out.

  “Well, I’ll have to find new sheets.” Edith crossed her arms. “If a Jew slept here, I’m not sure what diseases they carry.”

  Shooting a sharp glance at Edith, Lilly wondered if her sister sincerely believed such propaganda. For someone as well-read and “educated,” Lilly thought it odd that Edith would be misled so effortlessly by the disinformation. Or maybe, Lilly thought, I’m the one who can’t see clearly? But the portraits downstairs don’t fit the depictions shown in the newspapers or posters. I saw my father and myself in those photographs. I saw a normal German family. What am I missing?

  “Do you think Papa is alright?” Edith asked as she began stripping the bed.

  “How so?” Lilly frowned.

  “He was quite shaken by what happened earlier,” Edith elaborated.

  “With the train?”

  “Yeah.”

  “That was strange to see him almost scared,” Lilly recalled.

  “Not that I blame him, really.” Edith huffed as she yanked at the sheets to try and get them off the bed.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, Grandpa Sommer killed himself. I’m sure that must not be pleasant for Papa to relive.”

  “He did?” Lilly shook her head, stunned by the revelation.

  “You don’t remember?” Edith paused from her chore as she panted.

  “I had no idea!” Lilly walked over to the door and looked down the hallway towards their father’s room.

  “We were both quite young then. I thought that maybe you would’ve remembered. What is wrong with this sheet? Did they sow it into the bed?” Edith grunted as she gave one final yank.