Forever Fleeting

by Bret Kissinger

  They had to cross one more intersection to reach the banks of the Spree River. The Berlin Cathedral, with its three green domes, was cast in the moonlight in the distance. A string of golden lights connected to the lampposts strung along the paved pathway. Bicyclists and pedestrians peddled and strolled along the river’s edge. Musicians played violins and harps. Some people stopped to listen, others to dance.

  “Do you want to sell cars for the rest of your life?” Hannah asked.

  “I do not know. I just want to enjoy life right now. I want to see the world,” Wilhelm answered.

  “You are a wanderlust,” Hannah said.

  She loved her home and could not imagine permanently leaving it or moving far away. Yet, she was always slightly envious of people who could leave on a whim.

  “I have never even been to Paris,” Wilhelm said.

  “Nor have I. It is a beautiful city. I love the lights,” Hannah said.

  “I love the stars. They are the same for everybody. No matter where you are, you can be anywhere when you look up at them,” Wilhelm said.

  The musicians, bicyclists, walkers, and dancers, along with the string of lights, were behind them. Here, it was only the two of them and the hundreds of stars overhead. They seemed to have transcended to a different time, and only the faint glimmering of the city lights across the river brought them back.

  Wilhelm pulled Hannah close.

  “Close your eyes,” he whispered, his voice tickling her ear. She closed her eyes. “Where do you want to go?” he asked.

  “New York City.”

  Wilhelm guided her four steps to the left.

  “Open your eyes,” he whispered.

  He had her head arched gently backward, and when she opened her eyes, she found herself gazing up at the night sky. It was littered with stars of white and blue and some, a melted swirl of both. There was nothing but the stars—no buildings of steel or concrete, no bushes or trees, no shrieking trains or honking cars. It was completely silent. She allowed herself to only look at them. The world around her was gone. She truly was somewhere else. Hannah was among the stars.

  “Africa,” Hannah whispered.

  She closed her eyes again, and Wilhelm spun her and moved her forward and backward and left and right. Hannah screamed with excitement.

  “Open your eyes,” Wilhelm said.

  She smiled when she did.

  “Beware of the lions,” Wilhelm said, standing behind her, his arms wrapped around her waist. She rested her head against his chest, their fingertips flirting with one another. “Next stop—Austria. Close your eyes,” Wilhelm whispered.

  He swept her off her feet and dashed forward with her in his arms, she laughing as he did. He set her feet back on the ground and leaned in.

  “Keep your eyes closed. You are on that lake. On that canoe. You are surrounded by trees on the edge of the lake. The mountains are ahead of you. Can you see it?”

  She opened her eyes. Each star warranted her stare, but there were too many to fixate on just one. It was an inside view of heaven itself. A deep relaxation spread over her. Though her nerves caused her heart to pound fast with excitement, the stars relaxed her exactly how that lake had in western Austria. Hannah turned to face Wilhelm.

  “Where is it you want to go?” she asked.

  “There is no place I would rather be than right here with you,” Wilhelm said.

  He inched his face toward her. Their noses almost touched—each subjected to a radical spectrum of emotions that blended to form a euphoric feeling and lightheadedness. Without either fully realizing, they had started to dance—their fingers doing what their lips desperately wanted to. They had danced under the lights in Munich too, but before Wilhelm had been able to kiss her, they had been pulled apart. He would not let that happen again. A strong invisible hand pushed him closer to her. His lips gravitated toward hers. Her eyes closed, her heart raced. She bit her lower lip, and her final exhale tickled his lips before he gently pressed his against hers.

  He cupped her face with both his hands. She balled the front of his shirt into her fist and squeezed it. When they pulled away, they stared into each other’s eyes—both smiled. The wind blew Hannah’s hair over her eyes. Wilhelm gently brushed it behind her ear.

  “I need to go,” Hannah said.

  Wilhelm had spent all his teenage years waiting for the future yet, at that moment, he would have been perfectly content if time stood still forever and he was forced to relive that singular moment for all eternity.

  They walked hand in hand back to the car. A feeling of invincibility took hold. Hannah had turned Wilhelm into one of the superheroes he read about it in his comics. He was indestructible. The cold wind that had caused shivers to erupt in his body was now powerless. He had the power of flight and the power to fly to the stars themselves.

  Lena Hauser

  Even after returning home, the high hadn’t gone away. Wilhelm laid in bed, going over every detail in his head for nearly two hours. When he finally drifted off to sleep, it was nearly one in the morning. He awoke at five after five. Even after only receiving four hours of sleep, he awoke with the same smile he had fallen asleep with.

  He usually slept in until 6:30 a.m., but he knew no more sleep would come to him. His night with Hannah had rejuvenated him in a way no amount of sleep could. He showered, shaved, brushed his teeth, and dressed. With time to kill, he went for a walk around the surrounding blocks. The city slowly rose to life, and when the streets were bustling with cars, it was time to return home and get ready for work.

  He was at the dealership and had finished washing the Mercedes-Benz before Hans had even arrived. When Hans pulled into the parking lot in a rusty, faded car, Wilhelm was tempted to pitch him one of the cars in the lot.

  As Hans stepped out of his car, he used his thumb to gesture up and down, silently questioning how the date went. Wilhelm gave a thumbs up, and Hans smiled and victoriously shook his fist. Wilhelm handed Hans the keys to the Mercedes-Benz, and Hans nodded his approval of the wash job.

  Wilhelm sold two cars that day, including the Mercedes. He was sad to see it go, as it had been something of a wingman on his date with Hannah. But what sold it to the young man was the way Wilhelm had described the car and his date with Hannah. Hans had said people were willing to pay for an experience, and Wilhelm had sold the experience of taking a good-looking girl out on a date—the experience of the wind pushing your hair back as you sped down the street and the engine roaring like a horse begging to go faster. Hans gave Wilhelm another thumbs up from inside the dealership. If the kid kept it up, he would be able to leave for home much earlier. The thought made his smile vanish.

  “I am going to have to get some more cars in here,” Hans said.

  Wilhelm’s routine over the next few days did not vary. He would wake up at 5:30 a.m. and go for a walk around the city, and by the time he would return, Erich would have left for work. Wilhelm would work until six and would expect Erich to be home by then, as he worked until five. But he wouldn’t be, and Wilhelm would be asleep before he returned. If it had not been for the unwashed dishes in the sink and the dirty clothes strewn about in the hallway, Wilhelm would have thought Erich had moved back to Schönfeld. He had gotten so used to returning to an empty apartment that he was startled when he found Erich sitting on the couch later that week. But he was not alone. Wilhelm had not seen her at first because her hair color—long, thick, sable brown that bounced with volume—was an almost identical shade as the couch. Both stood when they heard the front door close.

  “Wilhelm, I would like you to meet Lena Hauser. Lena, this is my other best friend, Wilhelm Schreiber,” Erich introduced.

  Lena was fair skinned with chameleon-like eyes that looked blue when the sun hit them and faded gray during cloudy days.

  “It is nice to finally meet you,” Lena said, shaking Wilhelm’s hand before entwining it back in Erich’s. She had a great smile, and Wilhelm could tell by her clothing that she was high
society.

  “Nice to meet you. I guess this explains why I have not been seeing Erich much of late,” Wilhelm said.

  “We met at the Reich Chancellery. Her father is Sturmscharführer Hauser. He was there for a tour, and she had tagged along,” Erich said.

  “He nearly fell off the scaffold from staring so hard,” Lena teased.

  “Please, I stared an appropriate amount of time,” Erich clarified.

  Lena rolled her eyes, and Wilhelm recognized the look in Erich’s. He had found his own Hannah. Perhaps now, Erich understood the incessant ramblings about Hannah.

  “We stopped here tonight to see if you would like to join us at my parents’ house for dinner,” Lena said.

  “Certainly,” Wilhelm answered.

  He and Erich had no food in the fridge, save for a few eggs that had a questionable expiration date.

  “You are welcome to bring Hannah,” Lena added.

  Wilhelm was desperate to see Hannah again and wanted Erich to properly meet her.

  “Heinrich is meeting us there as well. He was trying to hunt down a date. But the women of Berlin have proven to be an evasive prey,” Erich joked.

  “That seems doubtful. Anyway, I need to change,” Wilhelm said.

  “That’s fine. Erich needs to shower. He smells like a sewer,” Lena teased.

  “That smell is hard work,” Erich said in his defense.

  “That smell is repulsive,” Lena jabbed back.

  Wilhelm could have used a shower, but his days of sweating at work were over. He was either inside or outside in the cool autumn air, and his work was anything but back-breaking. He changed, washed his face, and gave his wavy hair a quick run-through with his fingers. While Erich showered, Wilhelm walked to Hannah’s. Josef had yet to flip the sign on the glass door, and it saved Wilhelm from having to knock.

  “Need another suit coat, Mr. Schreiber?” Josef asked when Wilhelm walked in, but he knew the reason Wilhelm was there had nothing to do with suits.

  “May I take Hannah to dinner, Sir?” Wilhelm asked.

  “You may,” Emma answered, stepping out from the black dividing curtain.

  Josef took a deep breath before he moved into the back and went upstairs.

  “I have heard good things about you, Wilhelm,” Emma said, beaming at Wilhelm.

  “Hannah is very close to you and Mr. Goldschmidt. I can tell by the way she talks about you,” Wilhelm said.

  “That is sweet of you to say. Thank you,” Emma said.

  “Your suit coat fit perfectly. Thank you.”

  “I’m good with a needle.”

  “Hello, Wilhelm,” Hannah said, emerging through the black curtain. She was breathtaking in a gray pea coat and gloves of the same color—so much so that even the mannequins turned their heads to stare at her.

  “Will you join me for dinner, Hannah?” Wilhelm asked.

  “Of course. This time I won’t have to borrow your jacket,” Hannah joked.

  “Hannah, grab your father’s gloves for Wilhelm. His hands will freeze otherwise,” Emma said.

  “Oh, that’s not necessary,” Wilhelm said, holding up his hand to stop any generosity on his behalf. But, truthfully, his hands had gotten cold on the walk over.

  “Please, Wilhelm, it’s no trouble,” Emma insisted.

  “First, my daughter, now, my gloves,” Josef blurted out from behind the black curtain. He stepped through, reading from his clipboard, his glasses hanging precariously on the tip of his nose. “Ten. Sharp,” he said.

  “Yes, Father,” Hannah said.

  “And, Mr. Schreiber, we need to discuss back payments on your purchase. I think I may have missed some taxes and fees,” Josef added.

  Emma gave him a playful, back-handed slap across his chest.

  “Ignore him, Wilhelm,” Emma said, apologizing with a smile.

  “Love you both,” Hannah said.

  “Love you,” her parents replied.

  Hannah left, closing the door behind them.

  “No car?” she asked Wilhelm.

  “Cinderella’s curfew was at seven this morning,” Wilhelm said.

  The walk back to his apartment started with a nervous silence. But it dissipated quickly. They talked about how delicious their food was on their date and what a typical day consisted of for both. But the nervous energy crept back, as it always did around a crush. It was unspoken but shared.

  Lena and Erich were already outside, leaning against the apartment building. Erich wore a new jacket, and Wilhelm suspected it was a gift from Lena. Hannah was surprised to find out that they would be going to dinner with the two. Wilhelm introduced her to Erich and Lena as they walked to Lena’s house, some two and a half kilometers away.

  Lena had an air of confidence about her that hovered on the line of arrogance. It was likely she did not know what colors the sidewalks were, for her head was always high and her chin, raised. But she was not lacking in manners. She asked both Wilhelm and Hannah questions to get to know them better and was genuinely interested in their answers. Lena loved Berlin and was quick to point out some of her favorite places.

  Neither Hannah nor Wilhelm had expected such a long walk and waited for either Lena or Erich to say they had arrived. The air was frigid, and it felt more like late December than early November. When the winds swept off the Spree, it traveled right through their clothing like ghosts through a wall, and their exhales looked like smoke.

  “It was Erich’s idea to walk. I could have arranged for a car to pick us up,” Lena said, casting Erich a dirty look.

  Lena waited for a car to speed by and then dashed across the street before the next one came zipping past. She led them to a massive apartment complex. The iron gate swung open in advance. Wilhelm wished there was someone to open the front door to their apartment complex, especially after grocery shopping. He had to pin his bag of groceries against the door with his hip and catch it as he opened the door. Three oranges had been casualties of one such unsuccessful attempt. Only, Lena’s home was not a single apartment. The entire building was her home—a three-story house with nearly twenty windows. The lawn was the greenest Wilhelm had ever seen and large enough to be a football pitch. The well-kept lawn had a stone walking path that led from the family garden to the front door and a flagpole that was taller than the house. The Nazi flag waved high and true in the strong wind.

  “My father is having a gathering. It will be over soon,” Lena said in response to the eight vehicles parked in the driveway that had gone unnoticed at first. She opened the thick oak door, painted in a pristine white. The knocker was a chrome eagle with a rat in its talons. Hannah’s hand grew colder, and Wilhelm squeezed it to keep it warm. Hopefully, the two would be warmer in a few moments.

  The entrance to the house had a small bench to sit on while putting on and taking off shoes and a closet for shoes and coats. To the left was the living room and to the right, a kitchen that any chef or food fanatic would envy. But it was not what they could see that had captured their attention. Their first deep breath was of hot, freshly baked pies and smoked meats that caused their stomachs to sit up like a dog that had just heard a strange sound. Erich’s stomach gurgled louder than the laughter and chatter coming from one of the rooms.

  A woman came toward the front door, wiping her hands on a towel. Her skin was fair like Lena’s, but her hair was dark red. She wore an apron stained with flour and blood, and the makeup on her face was a tad much.

  “Lena, you are back so soon. Supper is not quite ready,” the woman said.

  “Mother, this is Wilhelm and Hannah. Wilhelm and Hannah, this is my mother, Ida,” Lena introduced.

  Ida made sure her hand was dry before shaking theirs.

  “Your father is in the study room. Best to wait in the living room until they are done,” Ida said.

  “Do you need help, Mother?” Lena asked.

  “No. Be a host to your friends,” Ida answered.

  Lena led them left to the living room. The ceiling
was nearly ten meters high with a staircase that spiraled up to what Wilhelm could not even guess how many rooms. The floor was a dark wood and neatly polished. The furniture was new and made from crisp black leather. Mounts of animals that Lena’s father had shot hung on the wall. They varied from deer and elk to the more exotic, like lion and zebra. The fireplace alongside the eastern wall crackled. Sturmscharführer Hauser’s pistol from his time of fighting in the Great War was placed over the mantle.

  “Sit anywhere you’d like. Make yourselves comfortable,” Lena said warmly.

  As soon as Wilhelm sat, he felt like he would never be comfortable again if he ever got up. The leather of the chair sunk in and cushioned him everywhere. The heat from the fire wafted toward them like a spell of an enchantress, and Wilhelm was being sung to sleep. Moments later, the eagle knocker pounded against the thick white door. Lena left the room and returned moments later with Heinrich and his date, a woman neither Wilhelm nor Erich knew.

  “Marry her,” Heinrich told Erich as soon as he saw the house.

  “I feel sorry for your date,” Erich said.

  The young woman had jet-black hair and almost equally dark eyes. Heinrich was too busy gawking at the house to notice his date’s awkward stares. Her face reddened as she waited to be introduced.

  “Right, sorry,” Heinrich said after noticing every person staring at him, “This is Helga Stark. We met outside a brewery.”

  “Your home is lovely,” Helga said.

  “Thank you,” Lena said.

  Heinrich slouched onto the couch beside Wilhelm, and Helga sat on the edge of it, still too uncomfortable to fully relax.

  “What does everyone want to drink?” Lena asked.

  “Beer,” both Erich and Heinrich nearly shouted in unison.

  “Erich, will you help?” Lena asked.

  But Erich was too preoccupied making faces at Heinrich and Wilhelm to notice.

  “I’ll help you,” Hannah said.

  She rose from the couch and Helga did too, but neither Hannah nor Lena had noticed so, instead of following them, she moved closer to the fireplace. Her cheeks were rosy and her nose, runny. It was obvious she had not expected such a long walk either. Men forgot details like mentioning when, where, and with whom when asking a woman to dinner.