Jonas would never become a Nazi, as he almost had. He should have told his father after he went to that first Bund meeting, told him all about Fräulein Marlow. But he had loved her. She had been so good to him. Now he loathed her for being one of them. Why did she lie to him so? With the book in his lap he tried reading, but his nervous brain would not let him. His diary, started only this year, was now almost full, just a few pages left. Into it he had poured out his heart these last sad months. Now as he wrote the last entry, tears came to his eyes.
“On the afternoon of August 13, 1939, we left our beautiful home in Danzig, and everything that belonged to us. Father allowed me to take only a few mementos, including this diary. All my things, and my Astor, were left for the Germans. Soon, they will be in our house, living, sleeping in my bed, and using all our belongings. We may never reach America, as Father plans; and if not, then we will all be killed by the Germans, because we are Jews. Someday I hope I will understand why it is so bad to be a Jew in Germany. The worst thing that can happen to anyone is to be deceived for so long, like I was by my governess. The Rabbi said to believe in God and everything will work out. Yet, he was killed, and Bill was killed, and they did not hurt anyone.
“Father and Mother look so old. I am glad the Prince and Uncle Herman are coming with us . . .”
The compartment door was suddenly opened by two young SS men who entered, smiling. Jonas’ heart began to pound so hard through his summer shirt that he feared the men could see it. He closed the diary and slipped it into his rucksack.
“Papers, please,” the younger of the two asked in a soft, pleasant voice. He studied the papers for a long time and then looked at Jonas.
“Frau Kruger, are you going for a holiday?”
“Yes, we have a summer house in Sopot.”
“No luggage, then?”
“We keep our summer things there. It is very convenient.”
The two left, still smiling, carrying Lucia and Jonas’ papers with them. Jonas and his mother sat and waited; the train was held up. If the SS men called Gestapo headquarters, Lucia thought, then she would never see Brand again. Jonas saw his mother holding her hands tightly. He had promised his father to take care of her. If they escaped now, left the train, they could hide in the caves on the north beach of Sopot. He touched his pants and felt the bulge of money sewn into the seams, which made him feel secure.
Jonas rose from his seat and pulled down the window. The station was empty because all the people were on the train except for a few SS men standing in a circle smoking cigarettes. He chinned himself up to the opening. One more push and his body would be out of the window. “Jonas,” Lucia whispered tightly. “Get down! You can’t escape; we will be saved. So, please, you must come down!” It started to rain as the train made a sudden thrust forward and Jonas lost his hold on the window and fell to the floor. Lucia rose from her seat to help him back up. She was about to say, “That served you right,” when the two SS men appeared again, smiling. They entered the compartment. Jonas rose from the floor, and sat down next to his mother.
“We checked your taxes, and everything is in order. Sorry to have you wait, but you know our rules,” one of them said, referring to the 80% tax all Jewish businesses had to pay every six months. Failure to pay meant being jailed immediately or sent to a concentration camp. “Frau Kruger, enjoy the beach!” The SS man’s eyes glowed with warmth and he cordially extended his hand to Jonas, who took it reluctantly, and clicked his heels. “One minute they want to kill and torture you and the next they act as if they are your friend,” Jonas whispered to Lucia as the train was on its way. The SS had not called Gestapo headquarters, but the tax office. Thank God Brand was careful to pay last week’s taxes, Lucia thought.
The train arrived in Sopot, passing Casino Park with its yew trees. Jonas remembered going with his Warsaw cousins and Uncle Herman to the beautiful park to ride the donkeys. A lifetime ago, he thought. After a few more minutes, the train slowly pulled into the station. Hundreds of tourists ran onto the platform looking for relatives or friends or to board the train as it journeyed on. Lucia and Jonas left their compartment and walked to the exit of the train not knowing what to expect next. As they emerged onto the platform, they did not see anyone waiting for them. Then, Jonas spotted a horse and buggy, a droschke, at the old station. Their gardener was sitting in the driver’s seat wearing a wide hat. Jonas ran over and was the first to climb in as the gardener winked to him.
The droschke passed the Wisering Grottoes graced by swans and hundreds of goldfish. The grottoes were surrounded by fruit trees and cast iron green benches and statues of naked nymphs. They arrived at Casino Park where children were riding the colorful donkeys, each donkey wearing a garland of wild flowers around his neck. The long pier was crowded with vacationers in swimming outfits. Weathered fishermen were sitting on the dock, dangling their long feet over the side. As the droschke slowed in front of the schooner, Jonas jumped off while it was still moving and ran up the gangplank to greet Captain Kowalsky, who was standing with Uncle Herman. Steam was rising from the smokestack, and the Captain held the mooring lines impatiently in his hands. Lucia paid the driver and was stricken with panic when she did not see Brand. He was to leave Langfuhr with the Prince immediately after them, driving up to avoid being publicly seen, with his swollen and bruised face certain to arouse suspicion. Lucia’s eyes filled with tears.
“Hurry, we have to leave now!” the Captain ordered. “There are many boats today. We won’t be spotted.”
“But where is Brand?” Lucia asked in a timorous voice, afraid to hear the answer.
The Captain pointed to the galley. Standing over the navigational map was her husband, his battered face partially covered by a brimmed hat, and the Prince, too, his hands on his hips. He looked up when he heard her sob. The Prince had worn his officer’s uniform to smooth the way through checkpoints, and Brand had ridden past these on the back seat floor, a dark blanket obscuring him.
“Lucia, thank God you made it! We are leaving in five minutes!”
Uncle Herman climbed down into the galley, with Jonas right behind him. There was nothing jovial about his round face today; there was, instead, a tinge of terror in his tight smile.
“Listen to me, all. There is little time, so don’t argue with me. I can’t come with you now. You have to go without me.”
Lucia gasped and Jonas’ face crumbled.
“Don’t say anything. I have to finish some things, then I will leave for Warsaw.”
“Don’t be a fool, Herman. I have a ticket and visa for you. There is no more to be done here.”
“We have our parents and sisters, our family,” Herman said, “and I can help them get out. I will come to America in a few months.” He kissed Lucia and Jonas.
“I have to do what I have to do,” Herman continued. “Try to understand, Jonas. Someday, you will. Lucia, I will see you in New York. O.K.? O.K. Oh, I almost forgot.” He gave Jonas a tiny Prussian soldier carrying the Danzig flag.
“This was once a free country. Always keep this soldier, Jonas. It will give you courage.”
“I will, Uncle. Please take good care of yourself, and take good care of Astor.”
Uncle Herman knew his nephew was grief-stricken about his dog. “Jonas, once we are reunited in America I will buy you a new dog. One who will live a long life in freedom.”
The Prince had to look away, as he felt his eyes moisten and a terrible dryness in his throat. The scene was unbearable. As soon as Uncle Herman had descended the gangplank, the anchor was raised and the schooner began steaming toward Southampton. The Captain raised the swastika. They were all sitting on the deck, holding fishing poles, and drinking champagne, listening to “The Ride of the Valkyrie” as they passed the other boats. Soon, as they sailed past the peninsula, they saw the German gunboats on patrol.
The Prince wore a striking white hat he had once purchased in Havana, and dark sunglasses. Jonas sat next to him in a deck chair, and Lu
cia was lying on a chaise lounge, in a bathing suit, looking surprisingly relaxed and predictably seductive. Brand stayed below so as not to expose his swollen and bruised face; also, he was studying the navigation map.
Five hundred long miles to freedom and an ocean of sharks on the kill, he said to himself.
Fräulein Marlow returned with the groceries and found Astor lying silently on his rug. She found the note by her bedstand and rushed to the telephone. Bruno, returning home to find the family missing, had rushed to Gestapo headquarters. The guard was gone, too, paid off and told to return to Gestapo headquarters until another one could replace him.
“They are gone!” she reported. “Their note says they were taken to headquarters. Have you seen them?”
“No one here gave orders for them to be brought back,” Bruno barked at her. “Are you sure they are gone? When did they leave?”
“Not more than an hour ago. I went to get some groceries after you left for the tailor. And now they are gone.”
“Well, they are not at Gestapo headquarters. Was the guard with them?”
“Of course. I left him talking to their Uncle Herman in the kitchen.”
“You idiot! You are either incredibly naïve or simply stupid, Marlene. They sent us both out so they could escape. We will get them anyway. Did they say anything at all? Think. Your very life may depend on it.”
She hesitated, and then said, “Yes,” her face strained and drawn. “I overheard them whispering something about taking an excursion boat down the Vistula to Krakow.”
She was lying, and she was glad. Suddenly, Bruno made her feel sick to her stomach. Had he been using her all this time? Or was it the way Brand had shamed her for what she had done to Jonas? She would never forget his eyes, so filled with hatred and disgust. With his hands around her neck he could have pushed the very life out of her, she realized, but he hadn’t. Why was that? Anyone else in his situation certainly would have. Kruger had been decent to her, to the end. Or was she heartsick by the way Jonas, the boy she loved in her own secret way, ignored her and now had the same hatred for her in his eyes as his father? So much so that it became painful to even look at him?
At that moment, she knew that they had an escape plan. She was certain the Krugers were on their boat, heading for freedom. It was such a simple trick of the Prince to send her out for groceries. So clever of the elegant Brand to fool Bruno into thinking he’d ordered new suits for the fall.
The governess returned the receiver she was still holding to its cradle. She stood up and pressed the folds from her black shirt and re-tied her long blonde hair. If she had not witnessed the brutal killing of the young American and the horror of the Kristallnacht, she might have gone along with the new Germany. But she now saw that these men of the Third Reich were scurrilous, ruthless characters who enjoyed killing innocent people without one morsel of regret. And Bruno was the worst of them. This family had taken her in with trust and honor, always treating her as if she were one of them, and she, in her bitterness, sought only revenge because she felt like life had dealt her an ugly hand.
As all these thoughts raced through her head, she grew ever more remorseful. How stupid she had been. The Krugers would have taken her along with them if she had not betrayed their trust. To America! Now she was alone, marooned here among the thugs and thieves. Her life, once genteel and lace-edged, was as gray and empty as her future had ever been. Maybe even more so, now. She lay down on the rug next to Astor, who heaved a deep sigh. She placed her arms around him and cried bitterly, still smelling Jonas on the dog’s body.
After a while, she raised her head and went into the guest bathroom and washed her face. She drew several long breaths. The police would be here soon to look in the house for evidence and to question her. She went to find the small Beretta that Bruno had given her and then returned to the kitchen and gently kissed Astor on the head.
“There is nothing left for us now, Astor. They are all gone. There is no place for us anymore; we have no home.”
She would never know about the letter then being read at the Gestapo headquarters, and how Brand had exacted his revenge. She didn’t know that the Gestapo would soon be on their way over to arrest her for conspiring in the Kruger’s escape, or about the fifty thousand guldens Brand had hidden in her clothing. They would find it and it would be case closed. Rather, she only knew that she’d been left behind to rot in her own shame and isolation.
And so she raised her blond head, pursed her lips. She pointed the gun at Astor’s head and pulled the trigger. Her body was covered with his blood. Then she pointed the gun to her breast, and fired once more.
Through the field glasses, Brand spotted a German gunboat racing towards them.
“Quickly, everybody down below. Prince, you stay on board, keep fishing, and look happy, a little tipsy.” He gave the Captain a machine gun, which he placed under the cushion of the pilot’s house.
“Let them come aboard,” Brand said. “There are only three of them.”
He raised the trap door, which led into the engine room. The Prince was left on deck with a large fishing pole, sitting on the “barber chair,” as Brand called the seat used for catching tuna. His Havana hat was comically perched on his head at an angle.
Captain Kowalsky was in the pilot’s room smoking his pipe and drinking coffee from a mug. He slowed the schooner as the gunboat approached. There were two men on the deck with rifles and one man in the machine-gun nest.
The captain recognized his friend, Wolfgang, who was speaking through a megaphone. His fingers touched the machine gun under the cushion.
“Good afternoon, Kowalsky. Aren’t you out a little far for a recreational sail?”
“Hello, Captain. We are going for the tuna.”
“Do you have any passengers?”
“Yes, of course. Prince Brandenberg. I mean ReichFührer Brandenberg. I promised to take him fishing.”
“Did you know they arrested the Krugers?” the gunboat captain yelled.
“So I heard. Why not come aboard for a little refreshment? They won’t be bothering us anymore. I am sure the ReichFührer wouldn’t mind.”
The Prince waved his arm like a ballerina, welcoming the German gunboat officers aboard.
“We would be honored,” the Prince added.
“Your boss has escaped from the Gestapo,” Wolfgang said to the Captain as the gunboat prepared to tie up with the schooner, “and we will have to search your ship. I am sorry, but I have my orders.
“Please do,” the Prince said, “and I will commend you for your efforts. But, frankly, you’d best look for them on the train to Warsaw, which they are probably boarding now, if they did escape; or, more likely, they may have made their way to Switzerland by car. That Jewish pig told me one night when he had too much to drink that he had sent money to the banks there, just in case. Come on board and you can use our radio to call Danzig. I will wager they are at this very minute at the train station.”
Brand stuck out his head from the cellar, holding tight to a loaded rifle, and then he lowered the trap door. Lucia and Jonas were hiding behind the coal bin, covered with a dirty canvas. This was not real, Jonas thought. He could not picture his father ready to kill the man who would open the cellar door. Yet his rifle was cocked, ready, waiting. Jonas stared at the sweat running down his father’s shirt. Lucia lay trembling beneath the canvas; Jonas was beyond fear, as though he were merely watching a scary adventure movie on Saturday with Uncle Herman instead of living one, and then when the movie was over they would simply go home, where Fräulein would serve him his dinner. And then he would take a warm bath and go to sleep in his governess’ arms.
“I will come aboard just to make sure,” the young officer said. The Prince handed him a glass of champagne as he stepped onto the deck.
“My, you are a tall one.” He appraised the naval officer just enough to elicit distaste and hasten a quick search and retreat. “How do you manage to sleep on those small bunks with your
long handsome legs?”
“I am sorry to have to do this. Just take me through the boat so I can send my report.” He took the glass of champagne and said, “Prosit! To the Führer and the Third Reich.”
“Heil Hitler!” the Prince bellowed.
All three men felt ridiculous saluting like that, but each was afraid not to follow suit.
They went to the radio room where the officer called his commander. The Prince stayed at his side, and Brand heard them moving about directly above his head. The monotonous humming of the engine drowned out the terrified breathing of Lucia under the canvas cover. Brand sat crouched at the top of the stairs, waiting, waiting. If the officer opened the trap door Brand would take him hostage and have the officer order the other men to come aboard to have “lunch.”
As they entered the master cabin, the officer spotted Lucia’s nightgown on the bed, next to her makeup kit. The Prince quickly grabbed it, spun around, raised his chin and said, “We all have our weaknesses. Yes, this belongs to me. Do you want to join us? Our beds here are much longer than most, as you can see,” the Prince said as prettily as he could.
The officer looked at the Captain in disgust.
“You don’t have to report this, do you?” Captain Kowalsky added.
“I never thought you . . . I better get along. Thank you for the champagne.” He saluted the Prince and could not leave the boat fast enough.
Twilight in Danzig Page 21