A Beauty Among Beasts

by Melanie Gabrell

  Somehow, as the officer left the bakery he didn’t realize he’d dropped the knife on the floor. Joe was careful to look preoccupied with the food, which wasn’t entirely too hard because it was immensely tempting to eat. The officer’s arrogance helped as well. Joe could tell he was ashamed to be in the bakery, but even the proudest Nazi could not deny some good old Brodbeck desserts.

  The knife was short and looked like it had never been used—both the ornate hilt and blade were spotless. The hilt was carefully crafted with the Swastika and smaller details to make it stand out. Unnecessary, he thought to himself, the symbol speaks loud enough for itself.

  The small living space above the bakery which Joe shared with his sisters seemed to be the only place where there wasn’t a Swastika to be seen. But now there would be, though not to the naked eye, because it was hidden under his mattress, just in case he needed it.

  He’d begun collecting weapons the night his parents left—well, were murdered. They meant to leave voluntarily, just one year ago, but when the two officers came to escort them, none of them made it out alive. After that, Joe and his sisters were left alone.

  Now, Joe’s weapon stash was extensive. He wasn’t sure what he might need to get the job done, should it ever come to that, but he was determined to be prepared for anything. Most of the weapons were hidden under his mattress—a collection of small knives and a few larger ones. The others, the biggest ones, were under floor boards.

  “Joe!” The name came out in an excited giggle.

  “Hi, Hannah.” He smiled and turned away from his pillow. The last thing he needed was Hannah or Abby finding the weapons.

  Hannah sat on her bed across the room. It creaked loudly; it was a grumpy old mattress that had seen too many nights. It wasn’t necessary that all three beds be in one room, there was another bedroom after all, but since the night their parents left, the girls would crawl into Joe’s room and sleep on the floor. He decided it was better if he moved their beds in, and the two were more than happy with the new arrangement.

  “How was school today?” he asked.

  Hannah shrugged and looked away. She mumbled something incoherent.

  “Hannah?” He leaned into her, prodding for information.

  “I got in trouble.”

  “Again?”

  “I started crying. Some of the boys … they were talking about us.”

  “Hannah, you have to ignore them. And I promise there’s nothing wrong with being upset. They weren’t being nice, but they don’t even know it. They just do what everyone else does, okay?” He stuck his hand under her chin and made her look him in the eye. She nodded with teary eyes. “Now let’s go get Abby. I may be able to let you walk home alone, but that brat is an adventurer.”

  Chapter 10

  Anna

  Leon never really told Anna what her specific job was at the castle. Perhaps, she told herself, his father just wanted him to have some company. She could understand that. Just having another person in the house can make a huge difference, and since being in the enormous castle, she was beginning to understand how lonely he must feel. Also, Leon clearly did not have people skills to go out and make his own friends.

  Anna was happy to find herself alone that morning. It was Sunday—a day to relax. Especially there, where she was pleased to find no traces of modern society. Not a Swastika or picture of Hitler in sight. It was like stepping back in time twenty years at least.

  Many times, it felt like she was alone in the great big house. Her father had warned her of that, but she tried not to let it bother her. She tried to see the bright side. There was something pleasant and humbling about the emptiness of it all. She quite enjoyed feeling like a small speck in the universe, or in this case, a castle. Or at least that’s what she told herself…

  Anna had found all necessary grooming tools ready on her new oak vanity in her room; she hadn’t really needed to pack a thing. Her suitcase sat open but unpacked on the floor next to the bed. She quickly combed her hair—the wavy blond tendrils falling loosely back to their natural shape. She tied it back with a blue ribbon from one of the drawers. Next to the vanity was a large wardrobe packed with clothing for every season. She leaned inside, almost disappearing in its massive space, and inspected the wardrobe. All of it was somehow in her size, but she wasn’t one to question a good thing. Many of the items were well made and in different styles, not exclusively German, as fashion had become the past few years. She picked out a plain gray dress that fit her nicely and set out to see the castle, something she had been eager to do since her arrival.

  The castle itself was vast and ripe for exploring. It certainly hadn’t seen much traffic, despite its grandeur, and Leon clearly did not give each room the attention it deserved. On second thought, it was probably impossible for him to do so.

  As she explored the first room, she knew immediately that her project over the next few months, or years (who was to say how long she would be there?) would be to clean each room. This particular room was covered in dust and all the furniture covered by sheets, leaving nothing to be admired. She was sure many of the other rooms were in the same state.

  Anna closed the double doors and moved onto the rest of wing. As she discovered more rooms, she felt that the place, though very beautiful, was quite sad. The rooms were dark and dirty, the windows closed and the air stuffy. Vaulted ceilings and ornate furniture were overpowered by the dreary conditions, essentially removing any identifiable beauty or purpose that they must’ve once had.

  There is no life, Anna thought to herself, only ghosts. In each room she mentally marked what she wanted to do with it in the long-term. For the short-term, she opened every curtain and window to let in some natural light and to get some air circulating.

  From the large main foyer, she discovered both an east and west wing that grew out like arms. The first floor had the longest arms, with each upper floor (for a total of four floors) getting just a little shorter. However, it was far from a clear symmetrical building, as she discovered various outlets to other rooms, storage, and gardens. Anna had lost count of the number of rooms she found, and she was sure she hadn’t even discovered them all.

  One room she had the opportunity to visit multiple times was the kitchen. She popped in a few times when her stomach announced its hunger, and each time she found a hot meal prepared and waiting for her to enjoy.

  But, despite her lengthy exploration, Leon did not show up anywhere. She had been determined to find him, and to thank him for the food she assumed he put together.

  After all, who else could it have been?

  Night after night as Anna returned to her room, she fell asleep almost immediately upon laying in her bed. The mattress molded to her form, like a cloud cradling her to sleep.

  She frequently dreamed of a man in uniform with dark hair combed to the side and bright, golden eyes that danced with life. He looked as though he’d stepped out of history with an old military uniform. They stood together in a large field of grass that never seemed to end in any direction, with only a few clouds passing by in the sky. He never spoke but he held his hand out to her as if asking her to dance. There was nothing between them, only empty space. But no matter what Anna tried, she could not reach him.

  She would wake in the mornings in a daze. The dreams felt real, and she couldn’t help but wonder who the man was—she had never had that dream before arriving at the castle.

  Anna returned to the rooms of the castle day after day, slowly making progress after her school hours, forgetting her homework and the happenings of the outside world while she was there. She dwelled instead on thoughts of the man in her dreams and the mesmerizing castle. She enjoyed finding the rooms and deciding what love and care they needed most. She’d spent hours removing cloths from the furniture and dusting every inch of every room.

  She could not deny, no matter how hard she tried, that the castle was enchanted. She noticed little things, like the absence of a cook, despite the readily avail
able food, and a few other noticeably odd things. There appeared to be a painting that watched and smiled as she paced through the halls, as well as the flowers on the tables that never withered, the dreams of the stranger, and the fact that no matter how many times she walked the halls, the castle was impossible to navigate because it seemed to rearrange itself.

  She reveled in her discoveries and kept looking for more hints of enchantment. She felt as though she was living within the fairytales and myths she’d always recounted to Effie. She couldn’t wait to tell her younger sister about her own small magical discoveries—not that they could quite compare to the magic of mythology. But, giving Effie a reason to believe in magic was something she wanted dearly. A child’s mind is the perfect soil for the seeds of magic to take root, and even more importantly: hope. Without hope, the direction in which the world around them was going became shrouded in darkness.

  Though the castle was a mystical mystery that she couldn’t quite wrap her head around, she continued to explore—and clean—every day. She believed she had discovered all there was to see in the castle but was thrown off guard when on one afternoon she found a room she had never seen before.

  As she walked slowly into the new room, she saw several large portraits but was especially shocked to discover that one of them looked exactly like the man from her dreams. She was quick to dismiss the likeness but became troubled again when she realized that Leon was not in any of the pictures within the gallery. Surely, if the castle belonged to his family, he would be in one of the paintings? The sickly boy with gray skin and red-ringed eyes was missing in every picture. The other family members looked at Anna with blank faces—lives she would never know…

  In addition to the picture that resembled her dream, there was a portrait of a couple, which she assumed were married, and two little girls. She wondered about them and how Leon was related to them—if at all.

  Next to the family portrait was a still-life of a fruit bowl, but she couldn’t help but notice how incredibly lifelike it was. The red apples looked especially mouth watering, and she then realized she hadn’t eaten yet that day. Her stomach growled in agreement.

  She reached out to touch the painting and gasped as her hand went through it and seemed to touch a real bowl. Her hand found a red apple and grabbed it, slowly pulling it from its colorful reality to her own. It looked real and it certainly felt real, with smooth skin devoid of blemishes. Another growl released from her stomach, and she turned the apple in her hands. Hesitantly, she brought it to her mouth and took a bite. It was delicious and juicy, just like a real apple. She looked at the other fruit, tempted to grab for more, but had a second thought.

  She had an idea and moved toward the picture of the boy from her dream, all the while savoring the taste of the apple. She reached her hand towards the portrait’s hand which lie across his chest. Her heart was racing. She was reaching through a painting, touching a person.

  Is he real? He looks real.

  His skin was smooth and warm, but his hand didn’t budge. She pulled her hand away slowly. Part of her was disappointed that he wasn’t real, but she wasn’t sure what she would have done had she been successful in pulling him out of the painting. It was absurd that she was even able to stick her hand through a painting and pull out an apple. She had thought the castle was enchanted, but this was beyond anything she could comprehend. Perhaps she was going insane. That seemed much more plausible.

  Anna stared for a few minutes longer to be sure nothing in the picture changed; though, she did watch mesmerized as the apple core disappeared from her hand and fully reappeared back in the other painting. What is this place? Why did the apple come through, and not the man? Does he already exist here? She surprised herself with the last question. What did she know about dimensions? Was it even another dimension? The qualities of the castle opened her mind to way too many possibilities.

  Anna turned her head away and her body followed, ready to leave and find the next room. Her mind, however, lingered on the gallery. There was no doubt that the man was the man from her dreams, and that was a coincidence she couldn’t ignore. Her mind spun until it gave her a headache.

  As the hours went by, she grew fatigued and her head pounded with questions, but she was determined to finish the rooms of the east wing’s first and second floor when she spotted another room at the entrance of the hall. There were two heavy wooden doors slightly ajar. It appeared as if it wasn’t even a part of the wing, so she decided that was why she hadn’t ever noticed it before. It sat behind the large double staircase in the foyer, but one of the entrances was in the east wing of the first floor where she stood.

  She was curious about this new room so she walked eagerly over to the door and pushed it the rest of the way open. As the door creaked from the movement, she was beyond pleased to find it was a large circular library. The walls were covered floor to ceiling with shelves of books and a staircase with a walkway that wrapped around to reach the books nearest to the top. The only break in the shelving was for the windows that stretched from floor to ceiling, providing a view of a central courtyard.

  She tiptoed through the quiet room—it seemed to have a peaceful quality about it that she didn’t want to disturb. It was filled with the distinct smell of books—a pleasant sweet yet musky aroma that reminded her of vanilla and coffee.

  The room was a book-lover’s dream and the variety on the shelves was overwhelming. She walked between the shelves until she was drawn to one section where she stopped and began pulling a few books that appealed to her. She flipped excitedly through the pages before returning them to their proper place. Many of the books seemed old, but untouched—true treasures.

  One book stood out to Anna. It was an old novel and the title was not one she recognized. Its bindings were handmade and clearly put together with great care. It was then that she saw a figure sitting in a chair adjacent to a large stone fireplace. He startled her at first, but she soon realized it was Leon.

  She wasn’t sure what to do when she spotted him, so she went about her business, looking at different books, but being careful to be quiet. He appeared to be enjoying his solitude, and as much as she wanted to say something, she didn’t want to be rude. It dawned on her that Leon was clearly not in need of any books to add to his collection, and it seemed strange that he even called for her father in the first place.

  I suppose loneliness can take its toll.

  It was also clear that the room wasn’t neglected like the others, not that she could imagine someone forgetting about a room like this one.

  “You like to read?” Leon asked without turning to face her. She jumped and turned from the shelves. His voice was deep and melodic as it had been when they first met, but she noted something else—a hint of curiosity?

  “Yes,” she replied with a smile. “This library—I mean this castle, really—it’s beautiful.” She waited for him to respond, but he did not; though, she didn’t really expect one. She prodded again. “What do you like to read?”

  He did not respond immediately, as if he were deciding whether to engage in conversation. “I like history,” he said to the fireplace.

  “Me too. And mythology. I love stories.” She smiled to herself and continued looking through the book titles. She pulled a few off that interested her and sat in a chair with a bit of distance from Leon, so not to bother him. It was nice to feel the presence of another person in the room, even if he didn’t answer.

  Anna took his lack of response as an end to the conversation and she didn’t want to push. Instead, she diverted her attention to the books she’d chosen and dived into the lives of characters, which took her on extravagant adventures through ancient times.

  They spent the rest of the day in the library together, in a surprisingly comfortable silence. Anna couldn’t help but dwell on the fact that she hadn’t noticed his presence when she walked in the room, which struck her as odd, since their first meeting had been overwhelmingly dreadful. The dread had sunk in�
�a darkness enveloping her heart, settling in senses of fear and sorrow—but the comfortableness of his presence in the library caused her to second guess her initial dread. Perhaps it had just been her nerves that first time or maybe now she was merely in amazement over the spectacular library. Whatever the reason something was different.

  Anna spent the next few days alone in the library reading stories she had always loved as a child, and even some new ones. She looked out for Leon each day; she was starting to get lonely. He was not the best company, but his familiar presence was welcome, and she would need to get used to him at some point, unless he continued to hide in other parts of the castle.

  As she spent more time in the library, she discovered Leon owned a lot of books the Reich would not approve of—most were banned books of magic and mythology. Because of that, Anna saw the library as an extra subtle push against the Reich. A silent rebellion of words and wisdom.

  Each day, it seemed the library had more to offer her and she, too, felt like a silent rebel with her mind exploring beyond the ideology they had so diligently ingrained in everyone.

  Chapter 11

  Walter

  Henry Tolkien and Walter Volk made an odd pair on the cobblestone streets of Essen. Walter was short and gruff looking with a prominent scar along his cheek and a child-like handmade bracelet that just barely fit his wrist. Henry, on the other hand, was tall and broad, ready to tackle the world with young blonde vigor; the spitting image of the Nazi ideal, though his thoughts did not quite mirror that aesthetic.

  As strikingly different as their looks and demeanor were their opinions. They both served their country and were proud of it, but Walter didn’t quite believe that Henry understood the roots of the German problem.

  To Walter, Henry Tolkien was a common man, not an exceptional one. He observed this daily, but typically kept his thoughts to himself. The other man was young, with still much to learn.