With the gut-wrenching sound of fabric ripping, Edith fell onto her backside as her legs flew over her head. The sheet and a couple of pillows came crashing down softly on top of her, and Lilly couldn’t help herself from laughing at her sister’s state.
“Don’t be cruel!” Edith quickly stood and playfully smacked Lilly with one of the pillows.
“I’m sorry!” Lilly laughed. “You fell so comically!”
“I’m stunned that the sheet was on there so tight.” Edith examined the sheet in awe.
Walking over to the bed to inspect, but still grinning from ear to ear, Lilly noticed a brown, tattered book tucked into the frame. It didn’t seem neglected, but rather, purposefully hidden.
“What’s this?” Lilly grabbed the book.
“A book?” Edith looked over Lilly’s shoulder. “Why was it hidden?”
“It’s a diary.” Lilly flipped through the pages.
“If it’s a Jew’s diary, you should destroy it.” Edith became afraid.
“It’s only a journal,” Lilly scoffed. “The Gestapo won’t lock me away for possessing it.”
“I’ve seen them do worse for less.” Edith reached over to try and grab it out of Lilly’s hands, who moved away swiftly.
“Don’t!” Lilly stood back and held the diary behind her.
“Give it!” Edith held out her hand.
“If you’re worried about curses, the fastest way to bring one on is to destroy something like this.” Lilly held the book high as if it were consecrated.
“I’m more worried about what the SS will do if they catch you with it.” Edith crossed her arms.
“Look around you!” Lilly pointed about the room. “Everything in this house was once owned by Jews. A diary is the least of our worries. Besides, you were openly reading that novel on the train where, I might add, I likely saved your backside!”
“I suppose you have a point.” Edith glanced around with growing terror.
“I’ll just read a few pages.” Lilly opened the book. “Then I’ll get rid of it. I promise.”
“Fine”—Edith shook her head—“but promise me that you will destroy it.”
Spying a comfortable chair in the corner of the room, opposite the bed, Lilly sat down and, with cautious anticipation, opened the journal to the first page.
Lilly’s heart stopped, and she glanced up at Edith with a frown.
“What is it?” Edith looked back at Lilly with wide eyes.
“Her name is also Lilly.” Lilly swallowed as she turned a pale white.
“It’s just a coincidence.” Edith grabbed the book out of Lilly’s hand and placed it on top of the dresser.
“It can’t be.” Lilly looked frantically at her sister for an explanation. Edith, after all, was the sensible one, and she would likely have a perfectly logical rationalization, or at least Lilly hoped.
“Come, sit.” Edith grabbed Lilly’s hand and led her over to the stripped bed where the two sat as the springs squeaked.
“I know about a hundred girls named Lilly,” Edith began as she placed her arm around her sister. “In fact, there were so many Lillys in my class that the girls started going by their middle names to avoid confusion.”
“I remember that.” Lilly calmed a little as she began to think clearly again.
“This girl and you sharing the same name is nothing more than mere happenstance.”
“You’re right.” Lilly closed her eyes as she breathed deeply. “It just felt odd, like there was some connection. I sensed, for a moment, that me and this other Lilly were one and the same. Or, at least, that we were eerily similar.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“I know that!” Lilly shot an unappreciative glare towards her sister. “I’m still allowed to describe what I experienced.”
“Sorry.” Edith relented with a pat on Lilly’s hand. “I suppose I’m a little tired from the journey and still a little shaken from that incident at the station.”
“I just want to go to sleep”—Lilly rubbed her eyes—“but it’s late in the morning already. If I nap now, the night will be ruined.”
“Here”—Edith stood—“I’ll go find some clean sheets. Why don’t you relax in the chair and read one of your novels?”
“That does sound lovely.” Lilly smiled at the pleasant thought.
“I’m just not exactly sure where to start.” Edith put her hand to her chin as she contemplated.
“Don’t you find it unusual that nothing has been stolen?” Lilly spoke aloud when the thought struck her.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, the house has been vacant for about a month, and no one took the opportunity to break in?” Lilly looked at Edith.
“You heard Mrs. Baumann; the house is cursed.” Edith gave a little wink.
“It may not be cursed, but it is peculiar to find everything exactly as the family had left it.” Lilly looked again about the room.
“I agree with you there. Papa did mention that the Nazis will be coming to take some of the valuables to sell them. Maybe that put enough fear to thwart any robbery? Anyways, I’ll be right back.” Edith exited the room swiftly.
Left alone, Lilly listened to the gentle creaking of the house and the ghostly whistling of the wind. A creeping feeling began to rest on her shoulders, and Lilly nearly jumped up from the bed believing that some spirit was behind her.
Just grab your novel. You simply need some distraction. Lilly encouraged herself as she dug into her suitcase and procured her favorite Jane Austen novel, Northanger Abbey. Sitting in the cushioned chair that was set in the corner of the room, Lilly took a deep breath and was about to begin reading when the journal on top of the dresser caught her eye.
No, not now. Lilly shook her head. I need a clear mind if I’m going to read that journal.
Still, as Lilly read her novel, the words passed through her as though she were a void since all her mental faculties were being employed to divert her attention away from the diary eagerly awaiting to be read. It felt to her as though it were a creature or that it had a life of its own, and it was calling to her. She knew it was preposterous, but still, there was something in this house that was waiting to be discovered. That was undeniable.
Chapter Three:
Inhuman
“All the great things are simple, and many can be expressed in a single word: freedom; justice; honor; duty; mercy; hope.”
Winston Churchill
Stretching as she awoke the next morning, Lilly felt unusually refreshed. She had slept the whole night through which was irregular, especially sharing a bed with Edith, who snored like a rumbling beast, although she vehemently denied any such allegations.
Noticing that her sister was still asleep and snoring faintly, Lilly gently climbed over Edith while being as careful as possible not to disturb her. Happy with her success, Lilly stood in the middle of the room, contemplating what she should set her mind to. She was still quite unfamiliar with the house and didn’t feel comfortable going for breakfast alone. Her stomach began to rumble, but Lilly thought it would be best for her to wait for Edith. Besides, she wasn’t sure if there was any food left in the house that wasn’t spoiled by now.
I can continue my novel, I suppose, Lilly glanced at the Jane Austen book sitting on the armrest of the chair. But just as she was about to follow through with this plan, she caught sight of the diary out of the corner of her eye. Looking again at Edith as she slept peacefully, Lilly grabbed the journal quickly and rushed over to the chair.
Her heart pounded in her chest as she hid the journal behind the open novel. Should Edith awaken, she would see the novel and nothing else. Lilly couldn’t determine precisely why it was so dishonest of her to read the diary, but she didn’t want Edith to be aware. Not willing to contemplate it further, she opened it quickly and turned to a random entry.
October 10, 1937
Ilse said she’s not allowed to speak with me. She was my closest friend. We sat together every lu
nch and even swapped food when it was agreeable. Now she states that since I’m Jewish we can’t be seen associating. Papa obtained special dispensation from the government for me to continue education on the account that I’m only half-Jewish. Still, the other children believe I’m not as human, or at least that’s how they put it. I have blue eyes and blonde hair and I look more Aryan than Ilse does. She has brown eyes with brown hair and olive skin. If anyone looked Jewish, it is her.
Mama is Norwegian and Papa is a Hungarian Jew. He says that he met Mother at the immigration office. Neither of them spoke German, or each other’s language, but he says that they both spoke in the dialect of love, which is revolting in its own right.
I don’t understand why the other children are treating me this way. I hardly know what Jewish even means. We go to the synagogue once a year, but other than that, there is no difference between my life and theirs. I asked Papa what it meant to be Jewish, but he didn’t answer. He seems quite grumpy lately, and Mama spends the nights crying.
Mama doesn’t look well. I am worried about her. Papa won’t tell me anything, but I know something isn’t right. I wish they’d stop treating me as a child and tell me what is happening already.
I’m smarter than they think, anyways. I know that no one, apart from Jews, are coming to the restaurant anymore and I overheard Father worrying that he’ll have to sell it. Apparently, he has to declare the value of the restaurant to the state. He’s heard of other Jews declaring the value, then the Nazis force them to sell it at half the price. The process even has a name: Aryanization.
I hate being interned here as well. I know I’m not imprisoned, but it feels that way. My brothers are off at university in Berlin, or at least they were until it was forbidden for a Jew to attend classes. They’re trying to find work, but I wish that they’d just come home. I’m lonely and desperate for some company.
I can’t go to any youth groups, or any public facilities, and there’s no entertainment. They won’t let me go swimming, which is my favorite thing to do, as they think that a Jew might dirty the water.
I spoke with a lady the other day. She was traveling through the city and didn’t know I was Jewish. We had a pleasant discussion, but when someone informed her as to my race, she was disgusted that I had even spoken with her. Can’t she see that I’m just like any other girl? There was no problem until she discovered the coincidence of my birth. How does that make me untouchable? How does that make me dirty?
“Good morning,” Edith yawned.
“Nothing!” Lilly gripped the Jane Austen novel that was hiding the journal tightly as she stared at her sister with wide eyes.
“Pardon?” Edith asked as she fell back against the pillow, not willing to depart from its comforts quite yet.
“I said ‘morning,’” Lilly lied and felt her heart beating quickly.
“Did you sleep well?” Edith sat upright as she rubbed her eyes.
“I did.” Lilly nodded, wondering how on earth she was going to hide the diary now. She hadn’t considered what she would do at this stage. She thought about perhaps hiding it under the chair, but Edith would certainly notice.
“I’m famished. I should’ve eaten last night.” Edith stood. “Want to come with me to the kitchen to see if there’s anything left?”
“I’ll be down in a minute.” Lilly smiled as best as she could but knew that she had failed to hide her concerns.
“Are you alright?” Edith squinted.
“Yep!” Lilly replied quickly but unconvincingly.
Examining her for a moment, Edith tilted her head as she grew increasingly suspicious.
“I see what you’re up to.” Edith narrowed her gaze further.
“You do?” Lilly’s eyes flew wide.
“You’re at a part in the novel that you maybe shouldn’t be enjoying?” Edith smirked.
“You caught me,” Lilly sighed her relief.
“Well, far be it from me to dissuade you from a moment.” Edith rolled her eyes. “I’ll be downstairs, and I expect that you’ll follow promptly.”
“Of course”—Lilly nodded—“just a couple more minutes.”
“You really need to read something more enlightening.” Edith opened the door and left Lilly alone.
Glancing across the hall, Lilly noticed that her father’s door was also open and, evidently, he had already left.
Quickly, Lilly jumped into action and placed the journal back onto the dresser where she had left it last night. But before she could leave, a thought struck her. If Edith sees it, she’ll dispose of it. I should hide it in my suitcase instead.
Shuffling the clothes around, Lilly placed the diary on the bottom of her suitcase before piling her other novels on top of it. There, that should hide it sufficiently. Now, I should get downstairs before Edith suspects me of anything improper.
Leaving the room, Lilly paused when she spotted Edith standing with her back to the wall near the bottom of the staircase, just before the foyer.
“What are you doing?” Lilly asked as she descended.
“Shh!” Edith put a finger to her lips, and Lilly understood that she was trying to listen in on a conversation.
Slowly, Lilly walked down the stairs when she heard hushed voices coming from the front doorway. Eventually, she came to stand beside Edith and listened intently, though she couldn’t make out what they were saying or who it was.
“Can you hear anything?” Lilly whispered.
“Not with you talking!” Edith swatted in the air for her to be silent.
“Do you know who it is at least?”
“It’s the officer who drew the map at the station,” Edith replied briskly.
Really? Lilly frowned. Why is he here? What are they whispering about? Whatever it is, it doesn’t sound like they’re agreeing.
“I’ve said my piece, and that’s the end of it,” Mr. Sommer spoke forcefully before closing the door.
Then, before either of the girls could react, he turned in their direction to find them huddled against the wall and looking stunned for being caught. With a harsh gaze, Mr. Sommer looked at both of the girls, assessing how much they had heard. Lilly tried to think of a decent excuse for why he would find them in this peculiar position on the stairwell, but her mind was blank from fear of his retribution.
More curious still was that Mr. Sommer was dressed in a coat and hat, which meant that he had already been out and was just returning. She didn’t understand what would be so urgent that he would have to leave without telling them or why he had to leave so early. Still, her mind was on the singular focus of how severe the punishment would be for their indiscretion.
“Have you eaten?” he asked, but Lilly was too stunned to answer and, clearly, so was Edith.
“I bought bread.” He held up a loaf, and Lilly was surprised that she hadn’t noticed it until now as she was preoccupied with being discovered.
“I…could eat…” Edith swallowed.
“Good.” Mr. Sommer nodded and began walking towards the kitchen.
“We didn’t want him to see us in our nightgowns,” Lilly blurted as she finally arrived at an excuse, and Mr. Sommer paused.
“Who?” He frowned.
“Sergeant Wolf.”
“The officer from the train station?” Mr. Sommer took a step towards them.
Lilly nodded.
“What on earth are you talking about?” Mr. Sommer examined the two girls as though they were insane and, for a moment, Lilly believed that she was. After all, she hadn’t seen who was at the door and was merely relying on her sister’s knowledge which, she admitted, was likely flawed.
“Nothing,” Edith replied and glanced at Lilly to drop the subject.
“Good. I’m hiring a maid, by the way,” Mr. Sommer spoke over his shoulder as he walked towards the kitchen, which was a closed room beside the dining room.
“A maid?” Edith followed quickly behind her father. “Can we afford one?”
A maid would be nice, Lilly
thought as she, too, began to walk towards the kitchen when she thought that she heard a knock against the door.
Did the officer come back? she wondered.
The knock came again.
“Papa!” Lilly called. “There’s someone at the door.”
“Then answer it!” her father replied, and Lilly stared at the door in petrified terror.
Again, the knock came, but more aggressively.
“I’m not decent!” Lilly shouted back to her father as she glanced down at her nightgown.
“Just leave it alone then!” her father retorted grumpily.
What if it’s important? Lilly wondered, and then noticed the red jacket that was still lying on the floor. I can cover up with that, she thought as she ran over, scooped it off the floor, shook off the dirt, and slipped her arms through when she was then alarmed to find that it was a perfect fit. It must’ve belonged to the girl who lived here! Same name, same size. This is all a bit too coincidental.
Briskly, Lilly opened the door but was stunned to find that no one was there. Looking out into the street, she turned to her right, but it was vacant. Then, looking to her left, she spotted Wilhelm, the neighbor’s grandson, walking back to his house.
“Hello?” Lilly called timidly after him.
“Oh, you are home!” He spun around quickly, and Lilly noticed that he was holding a pie.
“Yes, sorry, I didn’t hear the door at first,” she lied as a lump stuck in her throat while she studied the handsome man now standing before her.
“My grandma insisted that I bring this over as soon as possible.” He handed her the pie.
“That’s kind.” Lilly’s cheeks flushed crimson, and she felt as though all intelligent speech and thought had vanished from her.
“She mentioned it was only right that I deliver it since I did devour the previous one.” He let a quick, embarrassed chuckle slip, and Lilly giggled a little too generously as she overcompensated.
Watching her for a moment, Wilhelm began to rock on his heels as he stuck his hands into his pockets. Lilly, for her part, was at a loss for what to say. Her mind was an abyss, and she simply stared at him in the stupefied terror that is unique, yet counterintuitive, in the game of attraction.
The Daughters of Marburg Page 4