by L. E. Waters
∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞
I wake up in my empty room. The clues! The clues that I’ve been waiting for. But how will I get out of here to meet him? I can’t miss this opportunity. Who knows when I’ll get the chance to see him again? I flop back onto my hard bed and think it about it the rest of the night.
In the morning, I grab the newspaper out of Gitta’s hands. “Please, I have to look up something.”
“What?”
“If Hitler is coming to Dresden anytime soon.”
“How did you know that?” She points to the front page. “He’s coming tomorrow night. An unexpected stop.”
“I must be there.”
Gitta gives me a puzzled look. “I didn’t know you were such a fan. He seems full of anger to me.”
“I’m not going to see him, but I feel like I need to be there.” I’m not going to be able to explain any of this.
She says, “I’ve only seen patients released for funerals and special occasions, and only in the custody of their families. No one’s allowed out by themselves.”
“I’ll have to try.”
I bite my nails until it’s time to work in the garden. If Dr. Evert doesn’t come today, I’ll have no chance of getting out to Dresden tomorrow. I don’t have a session with him for four more days due to board meetings. He’s not there as we file in for our usual duties. Odelia goes straight to her roses, and I check in on Teresia as always. I scan the beds for a hunched-over Dr. Evert, but the garden is empty. I busy myself with changing her food and water, and make sure the gates are closed before allowing her to hop free. Whenever she passes by, someone lays down their gloves to give her a pet. I go to clipping bouquets and deadheading. We all look up when the gate is opened. Everything in me immediately relaxes upon seeing the doctor appear, but then I instantly grow nervous of what I need to ask him. After saying hello to Gitta, Odelia, and Minna, he makes his way over to me.
“Good morning.”
“Great morning,” I reply.
He crouches down and chuckles. “I meant that for Teresia, but good morning to you as well.” He scoops the brown fluff up in his arms. “I think she’s getting fat.” He hangs her large legs down in the air, making her belly look even rounder than it should.
“That’s what happens when she gets treats from everybody.”
She starts to kick her feet in the air at his insult and he lets her back down to exercise in the garden.
I better just come out with it. “Could you grant me a day pass so I can travel to Dresden?”
He nearly chokes. “What?”
I take a deep breath. “I would like to take the train into Dresden for the day tomorrow.”
“Is your family going there?”
“No.” I have to look away at the blue morning glories dangling on the fence above me. “I want to go alone.”
“Why would you ever want to do that?” He scoffs. “What is there for you in Dresden?”
“I had a dream last night that told me to go there. I always follow my dreams. They have always been right.”
His face nearly dances to control laughter.
My face draws hard lines. “You told me that you believed me.”
He puts his hands in pockets. “It’s not that I don’t believe you, but maybe it was just a silly dream, like we all have. Why would it be so crucial for you to go to Dresden, and tomorrow at that?”
“I will meet the green-eyed person there.”
“Oh.” His head dips back in sudden understanding. “Your soul mate.”
“I truly must go.”
He sees the desperation in my eyes, which sparks something hard in his. Yet, with great and obvious effort, his eyes soften.
“And what if you get there and he’s not there?”
“Then you will get to tell me that I was wrong.”
“That does sound wonderful.” He dances up on the balls of his feet.
I can tell I might be making some headway. “Others would say this is a delusion, but you said yourself that you don’t think it is. You said you trusted me, and I must do this.”
“Why don’t I come with you?” The idea makes his eyes sparkle. “And if we shall bump into ol’ green-eyes, I will be sure to give you a moment to explain everything to him.”
I resent the laughter in his eyes. “If you truly believe I am healthy, then you will let me go on my own for the day.”
“Fine.” He swings his shoulder down to drop his knapsack to the ground. After searching for a pencil and pad, he scrawls quickly across the page. “Here it is.” He rips it violently away from its spine.
“Thank you.” I stare at the paper in my hands.
His voice gets doctor-like. “You must return before nightfall.” He puts both hands on my shoulders. “Be safe. Germany has changed. It’s become a dangerous place since you’ve been in here.”
I nod, and he reaches into his pocket for something and tucks it into my hand.
“Train fare.” He gives a slight smile, betraying all of his uncertainty.
“I will be careful.”
He yanks back up his knapsack and says, “I must get back inside.”
I watch him walk away, and Verena pulls up beside me with her rake. “What was that all about?” She winks at me. “I’ve never seen him in such a state.”
“He gave me a day pass to Dresden.” I tuck it away in my skirt band like it’s gold.
She studies me for a moment. “What I would do with a day pass to Dresden.” A devilish laugh erupts from her bow-shaped lips. “So why would the doctor be in such a tizzy about it?”
“He thinks I won’t be safe all alone.”
More demons erupt out of her mouth as her shoulders roll with enjoyment at it all. “And I bet he wanted to keep you company.”
I go back to my clippers.
Chapter 14
Once I’m past the hospital entrance, I skip down the steep, narrow roads overlooking the lazy Elbe River to the Pirna train station waiting in the valley below. It feels like ages since I last was at this station with my mother. So much has changed since then.
It’s good to be among people, and I quickly find a seat on the train by a sunny window. I smile at the woman sitting next to me and she’s eager to smile back, but that smile freezes once she sees my ID tag. She immediately grabs her purse and relocates to the back of the train. In a fury, I take my ID tag off and tuck it securely in my coat pocket. Hopefully, she won’t spread the news around the car. I take in everything I can, since I’m not sure when I’ll be able to get out again. I wish the girls were with me. Some of them haven’t left the hospital grounds since they were children. I must talk to Dr. Evert about that when I return. Maybe I can coax him into a day excursion for our floor. What would Bathilda say to that? A smile creeps across my face. By nightfall, I just might find the man with green-eyes. I could squeal.
With every stop, the train fills up, until men are forced to hold tight to the luggage rack. Once we arrive in Dresden, I have to fight my way through the thick crowd. I’ve been to Dresden many times in my life, and it’s never been this busy.
I stop trying to fight the crowd and just flow with them down to the old part of the city. People must have come from all over to hear Hitler speak, and once he takes to the podium in front of St. Anne’s Church, I can barely hear him shout from how far away I stand. His speech is short but furious, and the crowd surges with the passion and energy he has invoked in them. I search for what I came for over the mass of fists and salutes and my eye is drawn to a young man leaning against wall, not saluting, but with a hand in his pocket and one pinching a cigarette. I check back to the podium and Hitler looks like he belongs back in the hospital with the lunatics, practically frothing at the mouth and red as a beet. Yet everyone looks on, mesmerized in some sorcerer’s trance. All but one, that man in the back whose face mirrors the disgust I feel in my stomach. Another “Heil, Hitler” response ri
ngs out and the man disappears out into the alley. I fight the raging, insane crowd to watch him more. Could he be the man in my dream? I need to see him in better light.
Strangers square their shoulders as I pass by, not wanting me to part them, but I make my way out into the street. The sun has long gone down, but the streetlights are lit. He lights another cigarette and makes his way quickly down the street. Armed guards patrol the blocks around where Hitler speaks. They watch the man as he passes by. I wish there were some way to catch up to him, but he would hear me run up behind him. What reason could I give for that? I walk as fast as my shoes will let me go and turn with him as he goes down a side street. I have to hang back a bit, since there isn’t anyone else on this street, and I make sure my feet don’t make any sound as I follow. The street opens up to a large factory. Steel and timber are stacked in intimidating piles in the open space before the rusted building. The factory is long closed and all the workers allowed to leave to hear Hitler’s fury. Forced, I should say, most likely upon the threat of losing their jobs. His footsteps echo in the empty space as he makes his way to the building. I hide behind the piles now that we are out in the open. I’m able to catch up to him since I can dart between the stacks of materials. I actually get ahead of his relaxed pace and peer out between rails to catch a good look at his face in the brightness of the factory lights.
It is him. The green-eyed man from my dream. If only I could see his smile. How am I going to be able to speak with him? He walks past again.
I lunge toward the next pile but trip on a railing that’s jutting out and fall like a sack of potatoes into the dirt. He spins around immediately, crouching low in defense. When he sees the pathetic girl sprawled on her hands and knees in the dust, he straightens back up, bewildered.
He pulls the cigarette from his lips. “You shouldn’t be here.”
I get up on my knees and wipe the stones from my palms. “Neither should you.”
“Were you following me?”
“I…was taking a shortcut back home.” Would he even believe that pathetic excuse?
“Which way do you live?”
I point off to the left to what looks to be a neighborhood behind the lot.
“I’m going in that direction as well.” He takes another puff and blows it out quickly. “It’s not safe for a girl to walk alone back here.”
I stand with all the dignity I can. “Maybe it’s not safe to walk with you.”
What am I doing? I’m going to lose any chance of talking with him.
“Suit yourself, then.” He turns to walk away.
“Wait.” I hurry beside him. “There are a lot of soldiers out tonight.”
“And we shouldn’t be taking this shortcut, so let’s keep moving.”
“I think I saw you at the speech.”
“Unfortunately.”
“You’re not an admirer?”
He studies me as he takes long strides and apparently decides I might be trustworthy. “I am not.”
“Neither am I.”
A ruckus somewhere behind us causes both of us to spin around, and as soon as we see the gang of soldiers making their way down into the lot, he grabs my shoulders and pulls me behind a pile of bricks. He puts his cigarette out immediately under his shoe and bends me to sit down beside him. With a finger up to his lips, he tells me to be quiet. In the silence I’m able to study his face. I’m always amazed how much a face can change in each different life but still remain familiar. His large nose remains masculine without being offensive; the stubble is just breaking through on his strong jaw, and his copper-tinted brown hair rebels against his morning combing.
His green eyes are drawn to my left hand braced up on the bricks as he notices the mole on my hand. After the soldiers’ brisk footsteps fade away at the other end of the factory lot, he turns to me and asks in a soft voice, “If you’re not in a hurry to get home, can I treat you to a cup of coffee?”
I haven’t had a good cup of coffee in so long, and I only have enough money for the train back. “I would like that, thank you.”
On the way, we talk about safe topics you save for strangers: the weather, the quaint houses, the stars.
He holds the door open for me and I choose an isolated table near a small window looking out on the busy street. He orders our coffees and sits down to quickly light another cigarette. The whole room wafts with lingering cigarette smoke. An old man plays an accordion in the corner, and people file in from the speech.
“I don’t even know your name.”
“Guess.”
That pulls a smirk on his face. There is the gap I’ve waited so long to see again. He exhales, allowing the smoke to escape out the corner of his mouth as he studies me.
“You look like a Josephine.”
He remembers me.
“Annelie,” I say with a content smile.
“Georg.” He holds a strong hand out for me to shake, sending a slight shiver up my spine upon contact. “Why are you out tonight all by yourself, Annelie?”
I think about telling him of the hospital but decide it’s too early to tell the truth. “I felt like getting out tonight.” At least I’m not lying. A tired waitress brings our coffee. It’s too hot to start sipping yet. I pour in as much cream as I can to cool it down and shovel in two heaping spoons of sugar before stirring.
“And why didn’t your boyfriend want to come along?”
A clever way to see if I had a boyfriend, but I wasn’t going to let him know that easily. “I’m not afraid to be alone.”
He takes a long sip of his dark coffee. “Do you like coffee?”
“It is one of my greatest pleasures.” I cup mine in both my hands, inhaling the fresh roast in deep before I take a rich, hot drink.
“Most girls would rather have a drink at the beer hall.” He points down in the direction of the large restaurant. “But I don’t drink.” He seems uncomfortable suddenly.
“I much prefer coffee.” The music gets louder with a happy polka.
He bends in across the table so that I can hear him. “Did you come to the speech after work?”
“No, I’m just visiting. Where do you work?” I bend in close to him. Our faces are less than a foot away.
“I’m a carpenter, but it’s impossible nowadays to make a fair living. So I’m keeping busy working on an invention.”
“What kind of invention?”
He pulls away for a minute and comes back with a finger over his lips. “I can’t talk about it. It’s very important.”
I ask, “Why were you at the speech if you’re not a fan?”
“I’m keeping my eye on him.” He takes another sip.
“They all think he’s the messiah.”
“More like the anti-Christ.” He sets his coffee down and leans toward me again.
I take in a deep breath, searching for something to ask. “Do you live in the city?”
“No, I’m only visiting friends as well.”
My heart sinks and he senses my disappointment.
“But I’m here for a short stay.” He leans back in his chair again. “I couldn’t miss seeing Adolf perform.”
“Hitler may be full of angry words, but he’s harmless.”
A fire burns in his eyes suddenly. “Tell that to the witnesses of Kristallnacht.”
“That was an unfortunate mob reaction to the Jewish resistance.”
He scoffs. “Don’t let Goebbels’ propaganda blind you. I was there.” His green eyes turn glassy. “I had my eyes opened that night to the vandalism, the looting, the arson, and the beating of frightened men, women, and little children.” He relaxes a bit to rest back into the chair. “There was no resistance from the Jews. They were pulled out of their houses, into the streets, to be shipped off in cattle trains to God knows where. Anyone who ‘resisted’, only stopping a moment to question the brutality or to cry for a separated child, was beaten to death by Hitler’s soldiers dressed in c
ivilian clothing, not uncontrollable mobs.”
My face burns with embarrassment. “I haven’t had access to many newspapers lately. I shouldn’t speak about things I don’t know anything about.”
“You and the rest of Germany. No one sees the truth with all of the sparkly lies Hitler and his legion have handed to the people with satanic promises of riches, utopia, and world domination.” He slaps a hand on the table. “All under some kind of trance. What will wake them up?”
The room gets louder as people fill in around us with loud laughter and conversation over the music.
“I’m sorry you had to witness such a terrible event,” I try to tell him, but he holds an ear out, not hearing me. I yell it again and he shakes his head.
He stands and pushes his chair in. “Let’s go outside.”
I follow him out, barely squeezing by the people clogging up the shop. A quiet bench waits for us outside. He motions for me to sit first. “This is better. Let’s talk about less vile things.” He puts on a smile to try to soften to me once again.
“I’m not under a trance, just separated from the world right now. But thank you for opening my eyes. I’ve never felt right about the new regime.”
“I can tell there is something different about you. I don’t usually tell anyone these things, but—”
A car comes to halt right before us. My mouth drops open when I see Dr. Evert step out with a face set in a mixture of anger and relief. He slams the car door with far too much force. He’s going to ruin everything. We should’ve stayed inside.
He leaves his car halfway in the road and stomps up to us. “You should’ve been back over an hour ago.”