by L. E. Waters
“I never wrote Mother back.” I turn to Lee. “I had the letter written and forgot to give it to you the last time you were here.”
“You can’t think of things like that,” Lee says.
I start to cry again. “She was probably waiting to hear from us. It would have been the last time I spoke to her.”
He moves next to me. “You shouldn’t blame yourself.”
“Mother always wrote back to me so fast. I was the one who waited for something to talk about before I sent mine back. She probably thought I didn’t care.”
Kathrin gets up and goes to the door with only a sweater on.
“Where are you going?” I ask.
“I need some air.”
She flies out the door and the flurries drift in before she closes it again. I grab her coat and run out after her. “At least bring your coat!” I yell to her, but she has already reached the road.
She turns. “I don’t want it.”
“Do you want me to come with you?”
“No.”
“Are you mad at me?” This is silly to say, since I can’t imagine why.
She spins and fires back in the slow snowfall, “I just can’t listen to you feeling guilty about not writing her back fast enough when you really should feel terrible that we’re even here at all.”
My mouth just hangs open. I had no idea she ever thought this.
“You should have listened to me when I told you to leave the hospital. You should have listened to Dr. Evert. Hell, you shouldn’t have even have gone to the hospital at all. Dr. Evert, Carsten, Mother and Father—everyone would’ve been better off, but you just had to do what you wanted to do.”
All my ability to talk just falls into my stomach. I never thought that Kathrin, of all people, would ever think this way after pretending to understand me this whole time. I want to hurt her back. I want to tell her not to come home, but I can’t form any words. Profound hurt is verbally crippling.
Kathrin stares at something behind me. I turn around to our neighbor, who has returned on a walk with her dog. I don’t know how long she’s been standing there, but she most certainly heard us scream at each other in German. She quickens her step to pass by us in such a tense moment. We watch her hurry into her house and slam the door.
Lee walks to us. “Kathrin, it’s unfair for you to turn your grief on your sister. However, we have to deal with this at once. Both of you come with me.”
He walks ahead to the neighbor’s little oak door. He knocks three times before the door slowly opens. We stand behind Lee as he speaks to her and I try to look as non-evil as I can. It’s hard to stand so close to Kathrin after I know how much she resents me.
She points to me a few times and Lee nods his head and smiles hard. The woman closes the door and we walk away quickly so Lee can tell us what she said.
“Your secret is safe.”
I let out a stale breath.
“How do you know she’s not just saying that?”
“She said she doesn’t care where you’re from. Anyone who has been leaving her boxes of fresh vegetables couldn’t be a spy.”
When we get back inside, Kathrin goes upstairs and Lee sits next to me even though I don’t say a word to him.
Finally, he gets up. “I’ve got to go. I don’t know how the roads will be.”
I only nod to him.
He waits until I connect with his eyes. “It’s not your fault.”
I have to look away or else I’ll cry.
“I’ll come back tomorrow.”
“You don’t have to. I’m going to be fine.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow.” He closes the door.
Kathrin comes downstairs the next morning and walks right to me and embraces me. “I’m so sorry,” she says, repeatedly.
“You know if I ever knew any of this would happen, I wouldn’t have ever gone to that hospital.”
“I know.” She cries all over me.
“I should’ve left when you told me to, but I thought I was helping people.”
“And you did. You did help people that wouldn’t be alive if you’d listened to me.”
“But Dr. Evert and Carsten and maybe even our parents would still be alive.”
“Or we could all have been in that same house when it was bombed.” She looks deeply in my eyes with truth. “We’d all be dead anyway.”
We hold each other again the way we should’ve yesterday and cry together about our loss. Our never-ending loss.
Chapter 36
March 23rd, Montgomery’s forces cross the Rhine, and on April 24th, the blackout is over. Cheers in every house can be heard and everyone pulls their curtains down to let the glorious light out of their house after dusk. Everyone goes outside at twilight to see the usually shadowed landscape glow again. For us, it’s the first time—along with many young children I imagine—to even see the countryside this way. The stars fade with the new glow that radiates from the hills and valleys once again. On April 25th, the Yanks advancing from the west and Russians from the east join forces and cut Germany in two.
∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞
A few days later, Kathrin comes running into the house after her morning walk. “Annelie, they’ve liberated Dachau.”
I forget about the breakfast dishes. “Are you certain?”
“I kept hearing Dachau and then I checked this paper. Look for yourself.”
I most definitely see the word Dachau and liberated. Just then, we hear Lee’s noisy engine pull up to the cottage.
“It’s Lee. He’s probably coming to tell you they have Georg!”
I go immediately to open the door as Teresia hops behind me, and I sweep her up so she doesn’t try to escape. I’m stopped in my tracks when I meet Gordon on the other side of the door. Kathrin gives me an even more excited look, because what else would bring Gordon to our little house than big news? He removes his hat for the first time ever. I had no idea he was so bald underneath. Lee steps in beside him, staying in Gordon’s shadow.
“I’m so sorry to disturb you, but we have something to tell you of great importance.”
My eyes keep darting from Lee’s eyes to Gordon’s, trying to gauge if this is happy news.
“Please, sit down.” I can hardly talk. I release Teresia so she can go hide under the loveseat.
We all sit down, Kathrin and I perched at the edge of our chairs. Lee spins his hat on his hand. Why is he so nervous?
Gordon turns to me and I can’t even swallow correctly. I start to sputter when it goes down the wrong way, and Lee jumps up at once to hit my back much too hard. “I’m fine. I’m fine.” Kathrin hands me a glass of water and I try my best to stop coughing so that they can spit out why they’ve come here.
Kathrin can’t wait either. “Is it the end of the war?”
Gordon shakes his head. “I wish it were. It’s the end of the war for Georg, though.”
“Does that mean he’s coming home?” I can’t believe it’s true. Kathrin sits right beside me.
Lee’s face falls. “You can’t tell her like that.”
My heart drops. “What do you mean?”
Lee edges closer to my seat. “Hitler was losing ground quickly as the Allies closed in around him. His delusions of triumph were fading, and so too his use for Georg.”
Kathrin hooks her arm in mine.
Lee continues, as Gordon seems bored already, “We were hoping he would forget about Georg in all of his problems right now, but it seems he didn’t forget about him.”
Kathrin clenches my hand.
“Oh, just bloody say it,” Gordon says. “The poor girl looks like she’s about to faint.” His dead eyes stare right through me. “On April 9th, they executed Georg and cremated him immediately.”
I shake my head at the words. “No, that’s not true. What proof do you have? How would you know what happened to him at a prison camp with the war still on? They onl
y just liberated the camp.”
“Georg was killed before it was liberated.”
“Do you have his body?” I ask. Looking into Gordon’s eyes is like looking through windows to an abandoned house.
Gordon crosses his arms. “I told you they cremated him. There is nothing left to identify.”
Kathrin speaks for me because I’m shaking beyond control. “If you don’t have a body, then how are you certain he’s dead?”
“We have people in that camp, relaying information to us. One of them secured evidence of the order. I will read it to you: ‘The question of our prisoner in special protective custody, ‘Eller’, has also again been discussed at highest level. The following directions have been issued: On the occasion of one of the next Terror Attacks on Munich, or, as the case may be, the neighborhood of Dachau, it shall be pretended that ‘Eller’ suffered fatal injuries. I request you therefore, when such an occasion arises to liquidate ‘Eller’ as discreetly as possible. Please take steps that only a few people, who must be specially pledged to silence, hear about this.’”
“Well, see, that’s discussing a prisoner named ‘Eller’, not Elser. I’m sure there’s a mistake.”
“‘Eller’ is most certainly the name they referred to Georg as.”
“Still, he might still be alive. This isn’t confirmation. I can’t give up yet. Besides, that order seems very strange to me.” I start to shake. “Why would Hitler care so much, since he’s murdering thousands of people left and right who oppose him or even look the wrong way, that this murder should be so secret?”
Lee is taken off guard. “It does seem a bit strange.”
“Why not just execute him for attempted murder like he did to the other assassins he’s dealt with?” I feel dizzy from the blood rushing to my head. “He had every right to shoot him at any time. None of this makes any sense.”
Kathrin adds, “Also, how did your people get a hold of this letter if it was supposed to be destroyed?”
Gordon’s hiding something, but he’s never going to tell me. “Regardless, he’s dead.” Even though his face is flat, his voice has a tremble. “Our sources say his room is empty and we found this hidden behind a cabinet he built.”
He hands me a letter with my name on it. I give a quick glance to see that it’s still sealed but, by the uneven paper, I can tell they’ve steamed it open already.
Anger I have long held flares out. “This is all your fault.” I point at his droopy, dull eyes. “I’m sure there was something more you could have done for him. They were so close and you let this happen. You could have sent people in for him after all he’s done for you.”
For the first time, something stirs in him. The stone monument shows a glimmer of something soft.
I continue, “I know how much Georg means to you—meant to you—and you let him down.”
He flinches but turns to me. “There was very little I could do. I tried my best.”
I flap the letter out to him. “Obviously, it wasn’t enough.” Tears burn and roll, and I hate crying in front of such a concrete person.
Gordon grunts as he heaves his heavy body out of our chair.
“So, that’s it? You’re just leaving?” Kathrin says. “What does this mean for us now?”
Gordon looks at Lee. “The war is almost over. You can go wherever you’d like now. No need to thank us.” He gives a snide smile as he closes the door.
Lee calls to him, “Just one moment.”
“Now,” Gordon replies.
Lee takes a nervous step toward the door and then back in my direction, but I get up to look out the window.
Lee flips his hat on. “Of course I’m coming back. I’ll help you and Kathrin with whatever you’ll need. I just have to take him back to London.”
Kathrin thanks him. He walks over to me and tilts his hat forward, half covering his eyes. “I’m so sorry about Georg. He was a hero.”
I look up into his eyes, searching for some sign of whether he’s genuine or not. I do find sadness there. My eyes well up again and he gives me a hug, even though I keep my body tight.
“He’s dead. You said yourself you’d have to leave us.” I pull my handkerchief out and blow, not caring how revolting it sounds. “Go.”
“You need me. I’m not going anywhere.” He walks back to the door and says to Kathrin, “Please, take care of her until I come back.”
She closes the door behind him.
I’m already in my room, alone, by the time the motor starts up and they pull out. I run my finger over the last thing he wrote, the last time he sealed an envelope. I hold it in my hands, trying to feel him, his last moments. When I release the letter, his light wooden infinity symbol drops out into my palm.
Sweet Annelie,
I have no idea if this letter will ever be discovered or if they will even know to get it to you, but I have to try. Whisperings have led me to believe my time might be coming to an inglorious end and I need to say goodbye to you in some way. I have been writing you a letter in my head for these last three years. Telling you all my thoughts, dreams, and worries like we are still standing in the garden holding your little brown rabbit. You and your stories have filled me with hope that even if I might not get to see you again in this life, we are destined to meet again in the next. Yet, I desperately pray for a more peaceful and simpler life than this one.
If I have died so many times before, then what’s another death? I’ve faced it before and I will face it again with all the faith you have given me. I’m so very sorry that we were only together for a short time, but our brief time together has changed me and made me strong enough to withstand all of this life’s tests in order to go on to another journey. If you have received this letter, then chances are that I am not with you now, but know that in my last moments I was smiling, thinking of you in my arms. Keep our symbol in your pocket forever, as I did everything I could to ensure your lock of hair has stayed with me.
Ever in your dreams until we meet again,
∞ Georg
I have to stop my tears from smudging the words. I place the wooden sign in my dress pocket and collapse to the ground.
Odelia’s song returns to me and I slowly sing what I can remember quietly.
“Sunday is gloomy,
My hours are slumberless
Dearest the shadows
I live with are numberless
Little white flowers
Will never awaken you
Not where the black coach of
Sorrow has taken you
Angels have no thought
Of ever returning you
Would they be angry
If I thought of joining you?
Gloomy Sun—”
Kathrin tries to open the door. “Annelie, let me in. If anyone can help you with this, it’s me.”
“I need to be alone, Kathrin.”
I hear her footsteps drift back down the hall. I stare up to the grey sky out my window and say out loud, “You almost made it, Georg. The war’s almost over and you were so close to coming home.” I see a bird fly quickly across. “What do I have left now?”
After staring up to the empty sky until twilight rises and falls, I fold the letter back into the envelope and tuck it under my blouse. I pull open the window and drop down a short height onto the Anderson shelter below. I search around to see if Kathrin has heard and, hearing no response, I follow the sound of the river.
Chapter 37
The dark water running beneath me can barely be seen on this moonless night, but its angry and wild sound tells me it’s there. The recent heavy rains have swelled the river so that the normally lazy water is churning and powerful. Is it trying to frighten me away? Telling me to go back home on this cold night?
‘Angels have no thought
Of ever returning you
Would they be angry
If I thought of joining you?’
I’m glad I don’t wear a coat, since the chill is the only thing I can feel right now. Did I really think Georg would come back to me? How could I have held out so much hope? Why did I think this life would be any different? I pull out the glass flask that I traded coupons for with an old man I met on the road. He walked right by me as soon as he heard my broken English and thick German accent, but when I waved my full ration book at him, he turned at once. The flask is only three quarters full and the bottle lip smells of old potatoes, but I know I need this tonight. The forbidden burn once again goes so well with bottomless grief. The valley around the bridge is quiet. The few houses seen on the landscape are warm with a glow of families settling down for the night, feeling secure enough to remove their blackout panels. All happy now that the tides of war have turned and they have the promise of a rich and plentiful table to fill their hungry bellies for now. I take another drink.
“Since when do you drink?”
I turn to Kathrin clicking her walking shoes my way.
“You can go back home. I’ll be fine.”
“I don’t think you’re fine.” She pulls up beside me and right away looks down at the drop. “This is where I come, too, when the river sings to me.”
How does she always know?
“Oh, what are you drinking? It smells like turpentine.”
“It tastes like it, too.” I squint in the darkness to try to see what it might be. “Maybe it is. I don’t really care.”
She takes a swig and pants after. “I’ve heard of bathtub gin, but I think this was made in a toilet.”
Only she can make me laugh when I feel so empty. I drink more, though, and stare back to the roaring water below.
“You were going to leave without me?”
I start to cry immediately and I try to talk, but only pathetic sounds screech out. She grabs me right away and holds on to me. Finally, I can talk. “I’m so sorry I didn’t understand. Your whole future was wiped away in seconds. Everything you dreamed of, gone, and there’s nothing you can do to change it.”
She nods. “Yet every day you wake up, trying to think of a way you still can turn back time and fix everything, and every night, you go to bed realizing that everyone’s moved on with their day and you’re still frozen in one place.”