by Tricia Goyer
She approached with quiet steps. He was looking out the window. His eyes were focused on the narrow road leading out of town.
“Good mornin’, sweetheart. How are you today?”
She pulled out a chair. “Good.”
He lifted his cup. “Good coffee here.”
A waitress approached, and Ava ordered coffee, sausage, and toast.
The waitress returned and poured her coffee. Ava took a sip. “You’re right. It is good coffee. Reminds me of Starbucks.”
“Four dollars for a cup of coffee?” He shook his head.
Ava smiled. Four dollars probably fed his family for a week before the war, maybe longer. She wondered if he was thinking about that, or thinking about something else. It was clear his mind wasn’t on this café or the coffee.
“There’s something that’s really stuck with me from the war.” He had a contemplative look on his face. The wrinkles on his forehead deepened. He wore a half smile as he talked. It was a sad smile. Ava wished she could capture that smile on camera, but he was never this relaxed when she had her equipment out.
“I don’t know if it was this town or another one like it, but I remember when we entered,” he continued. “It was just piles of rubble. Old piles from the bombers. New rubble from the artillery. There didn’t seem to be one building that was whole.”
She looked outside at the brick buildings—the painted window frames and flower boxes that were just beginning to show their first buds. “I bet it’s different seeing the buildings standing, not crumbling.”
“It is different, but what was even more troubling were all the people. I keep thinking about the refugees. They were walking out of town, stumbling along the road. They were leaving the city—old people, small children. Mothers carrying babies in pouches across their fronts. Some had wagons or baby carriages filled with things. And they didn’t look back. I could see it on their faces. It was too hard for them to look back. They didn’t really look ahead. Mostly, they just watched their feet. The children, not knowing any better, sneaked glances at us.”
Ava could picture that. She felt the same way. Not looking back because of the pain. Afraid to look ahead. Maybe she was just watching her feet too.
They sat a few more minutes in silence, sipping their coffee and watching people pass on the street. It seemed right, in a way, to enjoy being together without an agenda. She breathed out a soft breath, taking in the sight of an old woman riding down the street on a bicycle, of a younger woman pushing her baby in a pram.
A family walked by, and Ava could tell where they were from by their Texas T-shirts and guidebooks. The dad led them, video camera in hand. The mother followed with a guidebook, reading as they walked along. Behind them were two girls, around seven and ten. They held hands as they trailed behind, singing. Joy filled their faces, and seeing them warmed her heart. Ava looked again at the dad, and she wished she could call to him—to tell him to look back at his daughters. He was missing so much—missing the joy of the moment, in search of the next site.
Thinking of this, her heartbeat quickened.
Is that what I’ve been doing? Missing the joy of being here in search of the perfect shot?
She turned her attention to her grandfather as he watched the passersby. She took in his pale eyes, the slight smile on his lips. She appreciated the sight of his age-spotted hands wrapped around his coffee cup and tried to capture the moment—not with a camera but in her memory. Tears welled when she realized this was what she wanted to share with her children someday—moments exactly like this.
“Grandpa.” She looked down into the coffee cup. “Remember that conversation we had just after Thanksgiving? I’ve been wanting to apologize.…” Ava paused when she heard footsteps behind her, and then hands squeezed her shoulders.
“All packed up and ready to go?” It sounded like Dennis wore a smile, but she resisted the urge to turn and look at him, lest he see the heat rising to her cheeks.
“Mm-hmm.” Ava closed her eyes. Dennis’s hands felt warm and strong. She tried to stay mad at him, but it was hard.
She opened her eyes and looked at her grandfather, trying to remember what she was saying before being interrupted. Grand-Paul watched with a large grin. An ache circled in her chest. This was his last year. What an honor it was for her to have this time with him. To see his smile. She captured the smile in her memory.
“Dennis, have you told Ava about your date tonight?” Grand-Paul asked.
Dennis released his hands then stepped back.
The last word dropped from his lips, and Ava felt as if cold water had been splashed in her face. Date?
She shrugged, trying to pretend it didn’t bother her. He traveled the world. He knew lots of people. It only made sense he had a girlfriend in Germany.
Dennis cleared his throat, and Ava looked up.
“It’s not confirmed yet, though. Ava, would you like to go out with me tonight?”
From the corner of her eye, Ava noticed a smile fill Grandpa Jack’s face.
Dennis quickly added, “As friends of course. It might be good for us young folk to get out and see the city.”
Ava cleared her throat and looked down. “I don’t know. There’s the video. I’m going to have to edit and send it in on time.”
“Don’t worry about that. We’ll give you good stuff today and make it easy, right, Jackson?” Grand-Paul elbowed Grandpa Jack. Grandpa Jack’s smile didn’t fade as she expected it to. Maybe it was going to be a good day after all.
* * * * *
An hour later, Ava had already set up her video camera, and the guys sat on two folding chairs they’d picked up at a small hardware store before heading out to the countryside. Behind them was a small portion of the Siegfried line, a line of concrete “teeth” that had once protected the border of Germany for hundreds of miles in both directions. The line had been there to protect Germany from an invasion from a foreign enemy, but Ava happened to be talking to some of the first soldiers to get through.
Ava looked at the steel and concrete triangles. They reminded her of the Egyptian pyramids with their tops lopped off, only these were small—knee high—and they were lined up in a wide, zigzag pattern, six deep and stretched across the fields in both directions.
The triangles were covered with moss and worn down slightly from age, but she could see how challenging it would be for tanks or trucks to break through them.
Grand-Paul wore a large smile. Grandpa Jack sat perched on the edge of his seat, and until this moment, Ava hadn’t been sure he would really go through with it. He looked at the camera and then looked at Paul with a narrow gaze. Her grandfather was doing this for his friend, which was fine with her. If it meant she’d get good footage, she’d take it.
Dennis was also silent as she prepared to videotape, and she wondered what had gotten into him. She especially wondered about his proposed date. Why was he being so nice? Ava shook her head to refocus.
“Okay, feel free to start whenever,” Ava told them. “Just talk like you’re explaining what took place here—as if the viewers had never heard of the Siegfried line.” She laughed. “And since I really haven’t heard much except for what I studied on the Internet, you can just talk to me.”
She turned on the camera. “How did you two feel, waking up and realizing you were going to try to break through the line?”
“Scared. We were heading into unknown territory. But it all turned out. Intelligence had gotten us accurate information on the pillboxes, and we completely surprised them,” Grand-Paul said.
“Pillboxes?” Ava shook her head. “I’m not sure I follow.”
“Mini fortresses,” Grand-Paul explained. “Concrete huts with machine guns. They were spaced out along the whole Siegfried line and were manned by German soldiers. You can’t see them now, but they’re up in those hills behind you. It wasn’t us just trying to get over these teeth. There were fortifications filled with enemy soldiers on the other side.”
Gr
andpa Jack looked at Paul. Then he looked at the camera. Ava cast him a reassuring smile. “We snuck up on them on foot. Paul here was our unit commander and he watched out for me. He told me he didn’t want to have to write a letter home to my mom. The commanders always got the job of writing to the parents if they lost a guy.”
“Yeah, but if I had known then what type of guy you were I would’ve let the Germans get in a shot or two before I covered you.” Grand-Paul held up a playful fist, and Ava got a glimpse of the nineteen-year-old kids they’d been. “Yes, I was the lucky cuss who got to lead these men through the dragon’s teeth.”
Grand-Paul continued talking about how fearful they were the night before the attack. Ava listened, but only partly. She mostly watched Dennis from the corner of her eye. Watched him watching their grandpas. It warmed her heart to see his pride.
Laughter carried on throughout the day, and after the videotaping was done, she packed up her things. Dennis pulled her grandfather to the side, to ask him more questions about what it was like serving under his friend, and Ava saw her opportunity to talk to Grand-Paul.
“Thanks so much for doing that.”
“Oh, Ava-gal, I’m always eager to tell the stories.” He remained in the chair, his palms on his knees. A cough shook his body.
“I don’t mean only that. I mean talking my grandpa into this.”
He shook his head. “I didn’t talk him into it.”
“Really?” She glanced over her shoulder at her grandfather. “I thought for sure.”
“No, but I’ve been praying about it,” Grand-Paul said.
Ava cocked an eyebrow. “I thought you didn’t believe in prayer—in telling God what to do.”
“Dennis explained that it’s about letting God know what’s on your mind.” He rubbed his chin, his fingers quivering. “I let God know it would be easier on you if your stubborn grandfather would just tell his stories. God must have agreed.”
She hugged Grand-Paul again, clinging to him a few extra seconds. “Thank you,” she said with a smile. “Keep praying, it’s working.”
Ava was still smiling as she finished the video before dinner and e-mailed it off long before it was due.
She still hadn’t heard back from Jill about the research, and as time passed she almost didn’t expect to. Jill was most likely running around trying to do her job, and Ava’s job too. Ava resigned herself to the fact that she’d dig in when she got back to Seattle. If Angeline was out there, Ava was determined to find her, even if it took a week, a month, or a year.
She’d try to get in touch with Jill again—just to see how things were going at the studio—but not tonight. Tonight she’d forget about what happened sixty-seven years ago. Tonight she’d just enjoy seeing a new place with an old friend.
Dennis met her in the hotel lobby at six o’clock sharp. The lobby was small and quaint, just like the city street outside.
“Hope you don’t mind walking. The restaurant’s a few blocks away.” He held up a pamphlet in English. “The lady at the visitor’s center down the street recommended it.”
“I don’t mind.” She wrapped a baby-blue scarf around her neck. “In fact, I hope it’s not too nice of a place.” She kicked up her plain black Danskos. “I really didn’t pack for elegant dining.”
“You look fine, Ava. And it’s not that nice. I just got out of college, remember? My career hasn’t taken off yet.”
A cool breeze stirred the air, and Ava looked around the large square. Even though most of the town looked modern and plain—most likely because it had been bombed and rebuilt after the war—the square gave her a sense of what the town had been like before the war.
“So this is Darmstadt?” She sighed and placed a hand against her chest. “I’ve always dreamed of coming here and seeing those dragon’s teeth.”
“Really?” Dennis paused and eyed her.
She quickened her pace. “No.” She laughed. “I’ve never heard of this place before, but it’s nice. I’ll give it that. Germany has been very beautiful so far.”
He caught up with her. “You sound surprised.”
“Maybe I was expecting the people in the old film reels. Strict and stern. I’m pleasantly surprised by the diversity of the people. Seeing this is like throwing all the narrow-mindedness and hate back in Hitler’s face.”
They turned a corner and the buildings rose up, square and modern. In the center of the business area, there was a large tower. It looked like a tall, brick arm with five curves at the top that resembled fingers. She tilted her head, picturing a giant reaching into the sky.
“Wow.” Ava glanced up again.
“It talks all about it in this pamphlet. I don’t know how to pronounce it in German but it’s translated as the Marriage Tower.”
“You’re just making that up. It looks more like a hand…with those five spires that look like fingers. I don’t see any wedding ring.” She smirked.
“It’s no joke. It says here it was built in the memory of the wedding of the Grand Duke Ernst Ludwig in 1905.”
“I like it. Especially the wedding part.”
As soon as the words were out of Ava’s mouth, she wished she could take them back, just in case Dennis had heard about her failed wedding plans.
If Dennis was having any of those thoughts, he didn’t voice them. Instead, they walked a few more blocks in silence, taking in the picturesque scene of old men and women, teens and young couples strolling along the avenues.
She knew they were getting close to the restaurant when he placed his hand on the small of her back. She slowed her steps, and he led her to the door. Above it a sign read Braustub’l.
“I hope you’re hungry.”
Warm scents of comfort food met her as they entered. Dennis gave his name to the hostess, and they were led to a table shared by another couple. At first Ava was confused.
They sat, and Dennis leaned in close. “A fine example of German efficiency.” He smiled. “Waste no room with empty seats and half-filled tables.”
The other couple knew quite a bit of English, and they chatted about the weather and the best sites to visit in the area. Dennis and Ava listened politely and made small talk, but neither had the heart to tell the other couple that they would be staying only one night. Tomorrow they’d be off to a new German town and off to discover more stories of war.
Ava ordered the rosti pfifferlinge, a potato cake with a creamy sauce, loaded with chanterelle mushrooms. When it arrived, the portion was bigger than she expected—the complete opposite of the small portions from France.
She breathed a sigh of relief as the other couple finished their dinner and left with a warm good-bye.
“Finally.” Dennis swirled his fork in the leftover gravy on his plate. “We’re alone. I mean without the grandpas in arm’s reach.”
“I think it’s the first time on this trip.” She smiled, and all the questions she’d been waiting to ask escaped her mind. It was easy to have a conversation when the grandpas were around. They were always quick to share their opinions.
Dennis and Ava chatted about some of the things they’d seen and about the amazement of coming upon that farm and learning about Angeline.
After the waitress brought them apfelkuchen—apple cake—and coffee, Dennis’s voice softened. “Do you remember when we went up to the ski park on Mount Shasta and got in that accident on the way down?”
“That bear ran into my grandpa’s car.” Laughter bubbled from her lips. “Grandpa didn’t believe us!”
“Not until he saw those hairs stuck in the door panel. Poor thing, the way the bear staggered into the woods after that. I bet his head ached for days.”
She turned to Dennis and studied his face. “I also remember swimming in Lake Siskiyou. Remember the day we timed ourselves to see how long we could float? I think it was an hour.”
“Two at least.” He took another bite of his cake.
“We heard some of these same war stories from our grandpas back then, b
ut they didn’t seem as interesting then as they are now.”
Dennis looked down at his plate. “Maybe I was a little distracted.” He rested his elbow on the table, and then placed his chin in his hand.
“You know you’re the first girl I ever kissed, right?”
Ava had been taking a sip from her mineral water, and she nearly spit it out all over the table. As soon as she swallowed, laughter burst from her lips. “You should warn a girl before talking like that.”
“Yes, well, I can’t stop thinking about that summer. Especially our hikes. Remember when we tried to climb the back side of Mount Shasta?”
“I remember we packed more food than we’d need in three days, and I nearly froze because I didn’t realize we were walking all the way up to the snow.” Ava sighed. “Remembering those days—talking about them now—makes it seem like they happened just last week.”
“I remember your telling me how excited you were about college, and all your friends, and everything you’d already bought for your dorm room.”
“I’d been planning it for a long time.”
He smiled. “I know. You must have told me that twenty times on that hike.”
The waitress cleared their plates. In the next room a group sang in German, and she wondered what they were celebrating. The birth of a baby? A birthday? A wedding?
Dennis wasn’t paying attention. She could tell he was still thinking more about then than now. If they kept going, they’d get to the subject of their last night together, and she didn’t want to ruin their evening by bringing up that.
“I wonder what’s next. What will the rest of the week hold?”