The Girl from Berlin, #1

by Ellie Midwood

  “I can’t believe it. You are Jewish.”

  “Yes. From head to toes.”

  “I always felt that I had some connection with you.”

  “You’re just saying that. And Adam, now that you know my secret and – I hope – you can trust me a little more, will you listen to what I have to say? Your father is one hundred percent right, it’s not safe for you to stay here. You should listen to him and go to New York while you still can.”

  “Why don’t you come with me then? It’s not safe for anybody to stay here. And I know that that man won’t leave you alone anyway, and there’s nobody to protect you.”

  “If both of us leave, who’s going to take care of your father? My father is too paranoid that the Nazis are watching him and that’s why he can’t have any close relationships with any Jewish people. Norbert is terrified that the war is coming and that he’ll be drafted into the army. I don’t blame him actually, he’s only twenty-two, and he doesn’t want to die.”

  “And what about you?”

  “What about me? I can be friends with whoever I want to, I’m just a silly girl, what do I know?”

  “I’ll go on one condition. You have to promise me here and now that if, at some point, you feel like yours or your family’s life is in danger, you’ll come and stay with me.”

  “I promise, Adam. I’ll come and find you.”

  After only three days, he packed his suitcases and was gone. Now the only friend who was keeping me company was my dog, Milo.

  I finally felt somewhat happy, or at least at peace. My eighteenth birthday was only in one month and my father was planning a big party for “his little princess.” I was really looking forward to seeing all of our friends and family and to share great news with them: Frau Martha chose me as a substitute for our new prima-ballerina, Giselle, and even though technically I was still just a soloist, if Giselle would get sick or decided to have a baby (she got married recently), I would be the one to take her place.

  I was standing on a little stool while the tailor, Herr Lieberman, and his always smiling wife, Ruth, (who kept saying that I was way too skinny for a girl of my age and tried to feed me homemade pies every time I stopped by) were working on my birthday dress. My father had already told them that he would take care of all the expenses and that they could create any masterpiece they liked without thinking of the price. I kept smiling at my own reflection and humming a popular song to myself; I finally felt like a carefree child again.

  Ruth went to the front of the store to get more pins and after a minute ran back inside.

  “There’s a black car parked outside and an officer at the door insisting he has to talk to you, Fräulein Meissner.”

  A black car was never good news, but I was still surprised how on earth he’d found me.

  “Can I step out for a second like this? The dress is not going to fall apart on me, right?”

  “No, Fräulein, don’t worry.”

  I smiled at the kind woman reassuringly and quickly went to the front of the store. There he was, of course, Ulrich Reinhard’s driver, smoking a cigarette while waiting for me.

  “Good afternoon, Fräulein Meissner.” He quickly got rid of the cigarette and opened the door for me. I guessed that Sturmbannführer was waiting for me inside and was right. As always.

  “What are you doing in a Jewish store, Annalise?”

  What a nice way to start a conversation. Good day to you too, Officer Reinhard.

  “They’ve always been our tailors, and there’s no one around in the whole area who can compare to them in quality. How did you find me?”

  “I wouldn’t be an SS officer if I didn’t have my ways, now would I?” If that was intended to be a joke, I didn’t smile back at him. I guess he took a hint from the look on my face and finally answered my question. “Don’t worry, I wasn’t spying on you. Your mother told me where to find you.”

  “You met my mother?”

  “Well, I was hoping to talk to you, but you weren’t at home, and your housekeeper was less than helpful in informing me of your whereabouts. So I had to introduce myself to Frau Meissner. I hope you don’t mind. It was an emergency. That’s a very pretty dress, I have to say.”

  “Thank you. So what’s the emergency?”

  “Oh, it’s really no big deal, I just wanted to make sure that you’re staying indoors tonight.”

  “I’m always staying indoors at night, so I don’t really understand your concern, Ulrich.”

  “I already spoke to your mother and made sure she understood the importance of my request. Just make sure that neither you, nor your family members, leave the house tonight, deal?” Without waiting for my response, he continued, “Now let’s get back inside and make sure that your friends finish with your dress in time.”

  “There’s really no rush, they still have plenty of time till the…”

  There was no point in me finishing the sentence, because Sturmbannführer Reinhard had already stepped out of the car and held the door open for me. I followed him inside the store, where his black uniform scared the living hell out of poor Herr and Frau Lieberman. After a quick look around, Reinhard finally spoke to the owners.

  “That’s some job you did on that Fräulein’s dress.”

  Herr Lieberman anxiously swallowed but nevertheless bowed his head a little.

  “Thank you, Herr Officer.”

  “It’s almost done, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, Herr Officer. We just have to finish with the sleeves, and my wife has to sew on the lace trim.”

  “Well, that certainly doesn’t seem like a lot of work. Can you finish it within a couple of hours?”

  “I suppose it can be done.”

  “Good. You shouldn’t be losing any time then. I’ll take Fräulein Meissner home and will send my driver to pick up the dress in two hours sharp. Make sure it’s done by then.”

  “Of course, Herr Officer.”

  I gave Herr and Frau Lieberman an apologetic smile and went to change into the dress I came in. Papa should give them more money just for their troubles, but how dare that arrogant snob Reinhard come in and take over just like that?! Why is he so concerned about my dress, anyway? Now, thanks to him, I look like an idiot in front of these nice people. Yes, I’ll definitely ask Papa to pay them extra and send them some fruit for New Year’s just to apologize for that “piece of work’s” behavior. Still upset about the whole incident, I quickly said goodbye to the Liebermans and got into Reinhard’s black Mercedes. On the way home Sturmbannführer was surprisingly quiet and, after dropping me off at my house, the only thing he said was, “Don’t worry about your dress, Annalise. I’ll make sure it’s delivered to you tomorrow no matter what happens. And please, go to bed early tonight.”

  Still confused about his more than odd behavior, I went to the library and decided to curl up with a book while waiting for my father to come back from work. After Gryselda made me a warm cocoa, I didn’t even notice that I fell asleep. Papa woke me up by kissing me on my forehead. I couldn’t help but notice how pale and tired he looked, especially tonight.

  At dinner he hardly touched his food and looked very distracted. My mother, as if sensing his mood, didn’t even mention anything about meeting Reinhard earlier today. Norbert kept giving me inquisitive looks, but I just shrugged each time he would give little nods in my father’s direction. I had as little idea of what was going on as he did.

  I went to bed early that night and was having the strangest dreams. First I saw Sturmbannführer Reinhard knocking on our door, and right after my mother let him in, he turned into a big black German Shepherd and tried to attack her and Norbert, who in my dream was not older than five for some reason. Little Norbert tried to hide behind the table, but Reinhard-the-German-Shepherd tugged on the tablecloth, started shaking it in his mouth, and eventually broke all of our fine china standing on it.

  Then that dream turned into another one. I was at the Liebermans’ store wearing my birthday dress again, but
this time it was not the original pale blue color, it was dark red. Ruth Lieberman was sewing the lace trim on and crying, and when I looked down at her fingers, they were all bloody from her constantly cutting them with the thick needle. I tried to stop her from sewing, but she just kept repeating that she must finish before her husband leaves. I tried to pull away from her and accidentally hit the mirror behind me with my elbow, and it loudly broke into tiny little pieces.

  The sound was so realistic that I woke up and decided to go to the kitchen and get a glass of water. Suddenly I heard it again, loud and clear, the sound of the breaking glass. Not as close as it was in my dream, but still very distinctive. I put on the robe, tied the belt and stood motionless for about a minute, trying to understand where the sound was coming from. There it was again; it seemed like several blocks away, but this time coming from the opposite direction.

  Without further hesitation I decided to finally find out what was going on, so I went to the hallway and from there to the library, the windows of which were facing the street, unlike in my room that was looking out to the garden. I was very surprised to see the reading lamp on and my father sitting in his favorite chair in his robe, with a half-empty bottle of cognac next to him. He suddenly looked twenty years older than he was, and the grave expression on his face immediately sent chills down my spine.

  “Papa, what time is it?”

  He slowly raised his eyes to me as if not recognizing me and quietly answered, “Around one o’clock, Schatzi. Why aren’t you sleeping?”

  “Don’t you hear it? Something’s going on in the city.”

  He just sighed and took another sip from his almost empty glass.

  “Don’t worry about it, girl, they won’t bother us. Go back to sleep. Do you want some cognac with honey? It will put you right out.”

  He definitely knew what was going on, and I was determined to get to the bottom of this. After all, I wasn’t a little child anymore who could be sent away every time the adults didn’t feel like sharing some information in his or her presence.

  “It sounds like some vandals are breaking into someone’s house! We should call the police or inform the authorities in some way! If you listen closely, it’s only several blocks away! What if they’ll get to us soon?”

  “They won’t get to us,” my father said very slowly. I sensed the sadness in his voice. “It sounds so close because it’s in the Jewish area next to us. That’s why I said that they won’t bother us. We’re Germans.”

  “Papa, what’s going on?” I knelt in front of him and took his hands in mine. Meanwhile, several barely distinctive screams now accompanied the sound of the shattering glass. “Please tell me.”

  “Yesterday, at the Party meeting we were discussing the detailed plan of… deportation of the Jewish population from the country suggested by Dr. Goebbels and approved by the Führer himself. The ‘cleansing’ starts tonight… all over the country. They will destroy Jewish businesses, houses, and burn down their synagogues… and the police are to be restrained from taking any measures.”

  For the first time I saw my father, a celebrated lawyer, struggling with words. Then, I finally started to put two and two together: Sturmbannführer Reinhard’s odd behavior, my father’s silence at dinner… they knew what was going to happen. Both of them knew and never said anything to me. And then all of a sudden I remembered my nightmare and jumped back to my feet.

  “The Liebermans!!! Doctor Kramer! Papa, we have to go help them! What are they going to do to them??”

  My father’s strong grip pulled me back to his chair, where he put my legs up on his lap just like he used to do when I was a little girl and couldn’t sleep or was sick. He picked up the throw from the floor and covered me all up, as if putting me in a little cocoon that was supposed to keep me sheltered till it would be safe for me to come out.

  “There’s nothing we can do for them, Schatzi, I’m sorry.” He was stroking my hair and pressing me even closer every time I tried to worm myself out of his strong hold. “I can’t allow you to go there, girl, it’s too dangerous. You can get seriously hurt.”

  “What about them?! Won’t they be hurt?!”

  “They just want them out of the country, princess. They won’t kill them. I promise, they won’t. I promise.”

  I had serious doubts that he believed his own words when he was saying them. After realizing how helpless I was in this situation, I finally gave up my attempts to free myself and was just sitting still, with my forehead pressed next to my father’s cheek. He let out another deep sigh, and I felt something wet on my face; for the first time in seventeen years I saw my father cry. And it scared me even more than the terror happening outside.

  Chapter Four

  Berlin, November 10, 1938. The day after the ‘Kristallnacht’ (‘Night of Broken Glass.’)

  * * *

  That morning we were having breakfast much earlier than usual since no one could sleep the night before. None of us actually had any appetite at all, so we were just pushing the food in our plates from one side to another until Gryselda, who couldn’t stand the sight of the wasted meal she so thoroughly prepared, broke the silence, “What, have you all decided to starve yourselves or something? Herr Meissner, please, show the good example to your wife and children, finish your omelet, I’m begging you! You can’t work all day on coffee alone, look what you’ve done to yourself! Getting almost as skinny as this little tree-twig here!” A disapproving nod in my direction. “Humor the old lady, eat at least something!”

  My father gave her a faint smile and just to make Gryselda (who as he was always saying reminded him of his grandmother) happy, he took several bites from his plate. A loud knock on the front door distracted our housekeeper from her duties of making sure that everyone in her household leaves the table full, and she hurried to see who was interrupting our meal at such an early hour (most likely the greeting would include a scolding and grumping).

  Gryselda came back right away and, to my father’s question who was the unexpected visitor, she just shrugged.

  “Some soldier, God knows who he was, those kids don’t even bother to introduce themselves anymore! Brought a package for Annalise, probably a present from that man I don’t like.”

  “What makes you think that?” I squinted my eyes at the old woman, who was looking at me with her arms crossed over her chest. She reminded me of my grandmother too. I bet my mother had the same feeling about her. The grumpy old lady who you love to death.

  “I’ll tell you what, the car outside was the same as always. And who else would bring your presents? I would send it back if I were you, Fräulein. You should have nothing to do with him.”

  Curious, I excused myself from the table and went to the hall, where the small package wrapped in paper was waiting for me on a little table by the door. I quickly tore the wrapper apart and saw my dress, my birthday dress, all finished and ready to wear. Still holding it in my hands, I couldn’t believe the cynicism of that bastard: he knew that later that night all the Jewish businesses would be destroyed and ordered those poor people to finish my dress in time. He made his driver pick it up right before the first stones broke their windows, and both the military and the enraged vandals, drunk on their hatred for the innocent people, who never did anything wrong in their life but worked hard and tried to live their quiet life, trashed their beautiful store.

  I felt angry. Not just angry, I was absolutely outraged. He’s going to pay for this. I don’t know how, but I swear to God he will. I hated Reinhard so much that the feeling was almost burning through my chest. I clenched my hands into fists and, without saying a word to anybody, grabbed my coat and ran out of the door.

  I ran all the way to the Jewish area not too far from our house, partly because I wanted to get to the Liebermans as soon as I could and partly because I tried not to look at all the devastation around me. We always used to shop here, do our hair, make our dresses, and buy our jewelry. We knew all these people, they were our friends a
nd now the whole block was simply devastated, as if someone had dropped a bomb on it. The broken glass and stone was crunching under my feet, together with all kinds of stuff the SA storm troopers and the angry mob threw out of the shops and trashed last night.

  It was surprisingly quiet around; I couldn’t see a single person at first, only soldiers talking loudly in the distance. I couldn’t say that I wasn’t relieved by the absence of people because I was very afraid to see dead bodies on the streets. Maybe my father was right last night saying that the vandals wouldn’t harm them?

  I finally made it to what was left of our tailors’ store and walked inside. If I didn’t go there as often as I did, I probably wouldn’t even recognize it since all the stores and shops now looked absolutely the same: dark, trashed to pieces, and silent. I looked around, still in disbelief. It all seemed just too surreal, and deep down inside I was hoping that this was just another nightmare and I would wake up any minute now. There was no way the Liebermans could afford to rebuild after what had been done to their store – whatever the looters didn’t find good enough to take (all the rolls of the quality materials along with the ready-to-wear woolen costumes and silk shirts, the pride of Herr Lieberman, were gone) they broke, tore into pieces, or threw out in the street. Even the mannequins looked like they took a bad beating from those Nazi-supporting animals. And as the final spit in the face, all over the wall the freshly painted red letters, saying, “Jews, get out!”

  I didn’t know why I started to pick up the pieces of lace from the floor, not even knowing where to put them. Herr Lieberman’s table was broken, so I lifted the wooden panel that was left of it and started to organize the lace trims next to each other. That was pretty much all I could do. And when they come back, I’ll help them with the clean-up. Maybe Papa will lend them some money to get back on their feet...