by Renee Duke
Paige and the boys glanced at one another. Despite what Rosa had said, they hadn’t expected the jump in time to be that significant. It was obvious that it had been, however. Though it was difficult to tell from above, Nicko, who was now presumably about twelve, did seem much taller, and Marta and Hani had sprouted up as well.
“We’re here with our uncle,” said Jack. “His name’s—”
“Trevor Hastings,” said Uncle Trevor, stepping into view behind them. “You must be the children my niece and nephews told me about. They’re here with me this time, instead of their parents. We’ve come for the Olympics. As a foreign photojournalist, I’m not allowed to cover the Olympics themselves, but not everyone visiting Berlin at that time will be going to the Olympics. Some will be pursuing other interests, and a British magazine wants me to focus on their activities. The idea being to show what the city has to offer year-round.”
“The Olympics are some weeks away yet,” Nicko informed him.
“I know,” said Uncle Trevor, “but I work freelance. After Berlin, I’ll have to hunt for another assignment, and they’re easier to get if you’ve got a nice fat portfolio. I plan to build up mine by taking photos all over Germany. Including here in Munich. We’re up here checking out this guesthouse because I thought it might be a good place to stay.”
“It is the best,” said Hani. “It to my Oma and Opa belongs.”
“So, you speak English now, Hani,” said Jack. “And speak it very well.”
“She is able to do many things now,” said Nicko.
“Including making a spectacle of herself,” Marta declared. “Look what she is wearing. Even last year, it was too small for her. This year she looks ridiculous. Which is what I have just told her.”
Hani had moved away from Nicko to be closer to the others, but now moved back, her head drooping.
Paige pursed her lips. “So it’s too small. So what? I’m guessing that it’s special to her. I remember wearing an old sweater I’d outgrown back when I was little. I’m sure I looked ridiculous, too, but I didn’t care. It was a pink sweater with unicorns on it. My grandmother made it for me and I loved it.”
“Hani is not so little. Except for her mind,” Marta retorted.
“That is enough, Marta,” a sharp voice said. A man in his sixties had come out of the guesthouse gate and was walking toward them. “Go inside. You are obviously in one of your moods and incapable of being courteous before guests.” He smiled up at the newcomers. “The dress is special to Hani. Though she cannot go to school in the regular manner, a teacher has been giving her private lessons. When she first began them, it was, for her, going to school, and we followed the German tradition of taking a first day of school picture of her holding a Schultüte—a paper cone filled with toys and sweets. Because she still loves her lessons so much, the dress she wore for the picture is also still loved. She put it on today because people here are celebrating our Jubiläum, which, in English, mean’s the city’s anniversary or birthday.”
“This is Herr Altmeyer,” Nicko said as Marta stalked off. “Hani’s grandfather. He and his wife run this guesthouse.”
“She runs most of it,” said Herr Altmeyer. “We bought it so as to have something to do with ourselves once I retired from the university. I am not yet retired, but will perhaps be so soon. I bid you welcome. It would be our privilege to have you stay here.”
“You’re not full, then?” said Uncle Trevor. “Even with the Jubiläum going on?”
Herr Altmeyer grimaced. “We are rarely full, Herr Hastings. From the day we refused to display a certain banner, our little guesthouse has not been one in which good Germans care to stay.”
“What about non-Germans?”
“We do have some foreign guests, and when the Olympics begin, will perhaps get more, if people stop here before going on to Berlin. As I believe I heard you say you will be doing.”
“Yes, but I want to get pictures of noteworthy events in other parts of the country, too. Events like your Jubiläum. I didn’t know about that. I must try to take in some of the festivities. Am I right in assuming there will be something going on in the Marienplatz?”
Herr Altmeyer nodded.
“Good. I’ll wander over there after I’ve been back to the Hauptbahnhof to see if the luggage we lost has turned up.”
“Nicko also goes to the Marienplatz,” said Hani. “He comes here to say ‘hello’ before he his family joins. They go to work. To…to…” She looked at her grandfather.
“Entertain the crowd,” Herr Altmeyer finished. “Do people still throw coins to you for that, boy?”
Nicko shrugged. “Not as often as before. But my father says we must put on our best clothes and try. As we will do in Berlin when the Olympics begin.”
“I wouldn’t advise that,” Uncle Trevor said quickly. “I really wouldn’t. Photojournalists hear things, and I’ve heard that people…people like yourselves—Gypsies, and others—are not going to be allowed into the city during the Olympics. I was told they might even be rounded up and put in concentration camps.”
“Better to say ‘will be’ rather than ‘might be’,” said Herr Altmeyer. “You must warn your father, Nicko.”
“I will.” Nicko looked thoughtful. “Rosa says she senses darkness around Berlin. This Gypsy ban, perhaps. But there may not be one, and if there isn’t, many rich tourists will be there and it’s a chance for us to make some money.”
“My sources are generally reliable,” said Uncle Trevor. “Gypsies who go near Berlin during, or even just before, the Olympics, stand a really good chance of winding up in a camp. Better to stay away. Better to stay away from all Nazi-sponsored events. You must know how they feel about you.”
Nicko nodded. “They consider us thieves and scoundrels, and would like to rid the land of all of us. But people have always felt that way about us, Herr Hastings. We are used to being despised.”
“Used to being badly treated as well, I expect, but not on the scale you might find the current German government capable of.”
“He speaks the truth, Nicko,” said Herr Altmeyer. “Tell your father he must give no one an excuse to confine him. Or any of you.”
“I will tell him, Herr Altmeyer. I cannot promise he will listen. And now, I should now be leaving.”
“Not yet,” said Hani. “Not yet. You have not yet seen the well.”
Nicko smiled. “Show me, then.”
“You come also,” Hani said the others.
“Our newly acquired attraction is in the courtyard,” said Herr Altmeyer. “You can walk around from where you are.”
Once they reached the courtyard, Herr Altmeyer took Uncle Trevor into the guesthouse to sign the register, and Paige and the boys joined Hani and Nicko at the well they had first seen in their own time. Marta was there, too, but stood a little to the side of it with a sour look on her face. Paige guessed that Herr Altmeyer’s rebuke had rankled, and she blamed them for it.
“A friend has built this for Opa,” Hani told the others. “It will wishes give. Already I have wished, and already it has come true. I wished for Oma and Opa to have more guests.”
“That was very nice of you, Hani,” said Nicko. “Are you going to wish for something for yourself now?”
Hani nodded and took a small brown coin from her apron. Dropping it in she said, “I wish…I wish to have a tambourine such as the tambourine Rosa played the last time she at the Gasthaus was.”
Marta gave a short, nasty laugh. “You are not supposed to say your wish aloud, dummkopf. Now that you have, your wish for yourself will not come true. You have wasted two pfennig.”
Seeing Hani’s crestfallen face, Nicko’s own flushed with anger. “That is not so, Hani. Because you wished first for someone else, the well will grant you your wish, too.”
“It will?”
“Of course it will,” said Paige, glaring at Marta. “Haven’t you got a Jungmädel meeting or something to go to?”
“As it happens, I do.
I would invite you to come, but it is just for German girls.”
Smirking, she went off to join her Hitler Youth group.
Chapter Nine
As soon as Marta had gone, Nicko and Hani both became noticeably more relaxed.
“Poor Hani,” Dane whispered to his sister and cousin. “Nicko can choose whether or not to be around Marta. Hani has to live with her.”
“Must be hell,” Paige agreed.
“Jolly unpleasant, anyway,” said Jack. “But at least the rest of the family are nice. And here some of them are,” he added as Frieda and Gustav came out of the guesthouse. Like the others, they had grown. Gustav was in the tall, thin, gawky stage common to boys of thirteen, and fifteen-year-old Frieda’s features were becoming a little more adult-looking.
“Hello. Welcome. Welcome. Opa told us you had come,” Gustav cried joyfully. “It is good to have you here again.”
“Especially since you are able to stay for a time,” said Frieda. “We live only a few streets away and come often to visit our grandparents.”
“You look unhappy, Hani,” Gustav observed. “Was it Marta who made you so?”
“Ja. She was not so nice being,” Hani told him. “She laugh at my wish. And she think I look silly.”
“Pay no attention to her,” said Frieda, putting her arm around her little sister. “Especially about how you look. It is her own appearance she is cross about.”
Straightening up, she turned to the others. “At home today, after she had put on most of her Jungmädel uniform, she stood in the doorway of our kitchen in her bare feet and said to Mutti, “I have no clean socks, Mutti.’ Mutti told her they were on her bed, but she said that all that was on her bed were long socks, and with her uniform she is supposed to wear short socks. Mutti said that today, she must wear long, because she had not had time to wash socks. At this Marta became angry and said that Mutti should have had time. She said a good German mother runs her home with efficiency, and if she did not have time to wash socks, she must not be organizing her work day properly.”
Paige snorted. “Is that so? Well, Marta didn’t appear to have a broken arm or anything. If she was that set on having short socks, she could have washed some herself.”
“That is what I told her. I also said that she should not talk so to Mutti, who is a good mother and works very hard.”
“She does,” Hani agreed. “As we today here walk, a pin I find. On it is a lamb like Pascha. I love Pascha and I love Mutti, so will to her the pin give. I get to show.”
“It is not just Mutti Marta criticizes,” Gustav said as Hani scampered inside. “She finds fault with all of us for what we do or do not do. Especially if it concerns duty to the Fatherland. Yesterday, one of her old brown shoes fell apart. She wanted Vati to repair it, but he said she had almost outgrown them and could instead wear some shoes that Frieda had outgrown. They are black shoes, with straps instead of laces, but they fit very well, and are suitable for this time of year, so Vati will not buy her any more shoes until winter. This does not please her because, for the Jungmädel, she should wear brown shoes with laces.”
“The fact that they were once mine does not please her either,” Frieda added.
“Nothing wrong with hand-me-downs,” said Paige. “I get some great stuff from cousins who are older than me.”
Frieda sighed. “To Marta, the uniform is very important. Other clothes mean nothing to her. Jewellery, also, she now disdains. She has been told it encourages vanity. Forbidden to wear it with her uniform, she now does not wear it with anything.”
“Is that why Hani has the bracelet with roses on it?” Paige asked.
“Yes. Marta wanted to sell it and give the money to the Winterhilfswerk, a charity that helps the poor during the winter months. HJ members collect donations for it. Mutti is not opposed to that, but would not allow her to donate a bracelet that once belonged to our Urgrossmutter, our great-grandmother. She said, if Marta did not want it, it must go to me or Hani. Since Marta and I had just had an argument about one of her Jungmädel leaders—who is my age, and a very nasty girl—she gave it to Hani.”
“I take it neither of you have joined the HJ,” said Dane.
“And, by choice, will not,” Gustav avowed. “But more and more Onkel Gottfried urges Vati to insist upon it. He says it is the desire of the Führer that the youth of Germany all be educated in the right way. The Nazi way.”
“But not our way,” Frieda retorted. “Opa is in trouble with his university because, even though he teaches his students what he has been told he must teach them, he does not encourage them to believe it. Soon, I think, he will be made to leave. It has happened to others. At the university and in schools. Jewish teachers first, of course, but now it is any teacher who does not show sufficient enthusiasm or respect for Nazi doctrine.”
“Until a few months ago, Hani’s teacher, Frau Dengler, was teaching in a school,” said Gustav. “She is now not allowed to teach there. This is hard for her as she is a widow and must support herself.”
“Is she Jewish?” Paige inquired.
Gustav shook his head. “She is German, but one of the other teachers reported her to her superiors because she disciplined two girls who were being unkind to a Jewish child.”
“Jewish kids must have as tough time in school as Gypsy kids do,” said Dane, aware that in less than two years’ time, neither would even be allowed to attend.
“It is difficult for them everywhere,” said Frieda. “Just now, however, it is not so bad. Herr Hitler does not want anything to cause problems for the Olympics, and some of the foreign spectators might not like the restrictions that have been placed on Jews. Some restrictions have therefore been lifted, and there has been a taking down of signs that forbid Jews to enter certain places or tell people not to go into Jewish shops.”
“And after the Olympics?” Dane inquired.
“Opa thinks that, after, it will be worse for them than before,” said Gustav.
“For my people, too, I expect,” said Nicko. “I must go now. I will tell my father what Herr Hastings said about keeping away from Berlin.”
“Perhaps I should tell him,” said Uncle Trevor, who had come up behind them. “I can go with you now, and call in at the Hauptbahnhof later.”
“If you wish,” said Nicko. “But I doubt he will listen to either of us.”
“Are the rest of you kids going to the Jubiläum celebrations?” Uncle Trevor asked.
Gustav shook his head. “Vati will not allow it. He says nothing is as it once was and the Jubiläum will doubtless be used to promote Herr Hitler’s glorious Third Reich.”
“From that I would guess that, like your grandfather, he’s not an admirer of Herr Hitler and the Nazi party,” said Uncle Trevor.
“No, he is not. Many believe they will be the salvation of Germany. Vati and Opa believe they will be the ruination. And if Opa talks so to you it is because he thinks foreigners should know how things are here. He and Vati do not discuss such matters with everyone. They must very careful about what they say to other Germans, as they do not wish to be denounced and put in prison. They used to all the time argue with Onkel Gottfried, but now say little. Nor do they speak freely around Marta or Hani. Hani because she might repeat what they say, Marta because she so much believes that what the Nazis are doing is good.”
“Yeah, but even she…well…even she wouldn’t turn in her own father or grandfather,” said Dane. “Would she?”
Gustav bit his lip. “We do not think so, but we cannot be certain. It is not unknown for the more dedicated HJ members to report their own families. And Marta is very dedicated. As are some of her friends. We are careful around them, also. Ah, here is Hani, back with her pin.”
“Mutti’s pin. I am giving it to her. It does look like Pascha, does it not?”
“Sure does,” said Paige, scrutinizing it. “She must be a pretty big sheep by now. Is she still in Unterammergau?”
“Ja. On the farm of Frau and Herr Noll
. They promise they would not her eat.”
Hani showed the lamb pin to Nicko and Uncle Trevor, who dutifully admired it before heading for the Marienplatz.
Paige and the boys stayed with Hani and the two oldest Reitzel children, playing and talking in the courtyard until Frau Altmeyer called them into the guesthouse for lunch.
“We must now return home,” Frieda said afterward. “There are jobs we said we would do for Mutti. But she is coming here to help you, Oma. You will do some baking, perhaps?”
Frau Altmeyer’s eyes twinkled. “Perhaps. We do have more guests to feed.”
“Please save some for us,” Gustav beseeched before they left.
“We will,” Hani promised. She led the others to a table containing a large, half-finished jigsaw puzzle. “Come. Make with me this picture.”
Even working together it took them a while to complete it.
“We show to Mutti and Oma. Mutti is here now, so I them bring.” Hani jumped up and headed for the kitchen, pausing only long enough to wave a greeting to Uncle Trevor as he came through the door with a large battered suitcase.
“I see you found our luggage,” Paige commented dryly. “Where was it?”
“In a second-hand shop. I made some other purchases, too. They’re in the suitcase. Come on up to our room and I’ll show them to you.”
“Our room?” Paige re-joined.
“Mine and the boys’. Herr Altmeyer said you could have one of your own—at no extra charge.”
“We’re just going upstairs, Hani,” Paige called out in the direction of the kitchen. “We’ll be back in a few minutes.”
The room was the same one the boys would later share with Zach. At this point in time the beds and other furnishings were in a much older style. The only things that would still be there eighty years hence were a large cuckoo clock and a painting of Neuschwanstein Castle.
Intrigued, the children watched as Uncle Trevor opened the suitcase and took out a leather wallet, four leather document pouches, a wristwatch, a black and gold fountain pen with a white star on the cap, a bottle of ink, a camera, a camera case, and several rolls of film.