“No, I do not think I am ready.”
“Then practice here.”
There were twenty men walking about, and the idea of practicing with so many eyes on her made her anxious. Hannah hated being the center of attention. She was perfectly fine with her back against the wall in silence. Often, her silence was misconstrued as her not having a good time, but she believed a person should only speak when they had something to say.
“Now you are being silly. You will do fine,” Wilhelm insisted.
“Maybe at a later time,” Hannah said.
It was her definitive answer, and Wilhelm did not push her further. Instead, he changed the topic, but Hannah’s thoughts drifted back to the previous night. He left her in silence, knowing processing what had happened was something she needed to do. And sadly, it was something she had to do alone.
Though Hannah’s parents were safe, there was no replacing the photographs and memories that had been burned to ash. But more than that, the innocence of youth was gone. Her father had always told her he could and would protect her, but for no fault of his own, he could not. For the first time in her life, she fully knew the world could and would harm her.
Wilhelm parked the car in front of Hannah’s home, and Josef jogged out to help with the windows.
“You continue to surprise, Mr. Schreiber,” Josef said.
Wilhelm had learned much during his time working at the Reich Chancellery, and the five windows were up in less than three hours, including a twenty-minute snack and water break.
“I have to return Hans’ car,” Wilhelm said after the work was completed.
It was later than Wilhelm had expected or wanted it to be, and it was unlikely he would get the car back on time. Hans would probably be waiting outside.
“May I join you?” Josef asked.
It was not the Goldschmidt Wilhelm had wanted to ask, but he nodded politely. Awkward situations rarely affected Wilhelm. But there was something strangely intimate and intimidating about being in such a confined place with Hannah’s father. And even though he could see outside and his window was rolled down, sending bits of the outside world into the car, it was a feeling that could only be compared to claustrophobia. The silence killed him. He had an awful feeling Josef was watching him, but when Wilhelm looked over to check the mirror, Josef’s attention was outside on the hundreds of shops that had been vandalized and destroyed—many he knew, many he didn’t—but whether it was the sun reflecting off Josef’s eyes or he had a tear that would not fall, Wilhelm could not tell.
The increase in traffic meant it was past four. As he drove into the lot, his presumption was proven true. The lights of the building were off, and Hans was waiting outside with a scowl on his face.
“Shit … sorry,” Wilhelm mumbled.
Josef only smiled.
Wilhelm pulled the car up close and put it into park and exited the car so fast that he nearly tripped.
“You are late,” Hans growled.
“I am sorry,” Wilhelm said.
“Will you be at work tomorrow?” Hans asked, ignoring Josef completely. It was too late in the day to meet new people.
“Yes, Sir,” Wilhelm said.
“Good. Sell something,” Hans said, getting into his car.
Wilhelm could tell Josef wanted to say something, but Wilhelm pleaded with his eyes for him to stay quiet. Hans waved out of the window as he drove away.
“Does he look unkindly upon my kind?” Josef asked as they began walking back home.
“I do not know, but it’s safer to keep it a secret,” Wilhelm said.
The long walk back to Josef’s was filled with an uncomfortable silence. Josef had something to say, but every time it looked as though he was going to speak, his mouth closed and he returned to his contemplation. He even started to speak on several occasions, but only the first portion of a word was audible, and each time, Wilhelm came up with his own conclusions.
“Is there something you wish to say, Mr. Goldschmidt?” Wilhelm asked.
The imagination was worse than the truth on most occasions.
“Wilhelm, I like you, son. You are a mensch. My daughter likes you. But I think we must accept certain facts, no matter how warped the facts are, how unethical they are. We are Jews. It isn’t safe for you, and it isn’t safe for Hannah,” Josef said.
Forget about Wilhelm, both were worried about Hannah.
“I understand,” Wilhelm said.
A sharp pain stabbed his heart for his own betrayal.
“Can I say goodbye?” Wilhelm asked.
“Certainly,” Josef said.
Whether Josef continued to talk or was silent the rest of the walk, Wilhelm could not say, for his mind tortured him by replaying every memory he had with Hannah. Though they were depressingly scarce, each was treasured. He scrambled to think of what he would say, but he did not have a single word prepared when they returned to the shop. The sun had set, and the road basked in the streetlights.
“Thank you for your help today. It will not be forgotten,” Josef said.
Hannah smiled when she saw Wilhelm, but for the first time, Wilhelm was unable to return it.
Josef silently motioned Emma to go upstairs, and after twenty years of marriage, she understood without a single quizzical look.
“Wilhelm, what is wrong?” Hannah asked.
“We cannot see each other again,” Wilhelm said.
“Why?”
“It isn’t safe, Hannah. I brought you to an SS officer’s home. I could have gotten you into serious trouble.”
“You didn’t know,” Hannah muttered, grabbing his hands.
Normally, hers were cold and his warm, yet the long walk had made the tips of his fingers ice and hers, cups of hot coffee.
“Goodbye, Hannah,” Wilhelm said. He kissed her forehead—he hated the pain he was causing her. He turned to leave. He wanted to say so much more but knew further words would only cause them both more pain.
Hannah watched him leave. She was stuck in a trance and did not know how long she had stood there before she finally dawdled upstairs. The modest kitchen was clean but dark. Emma and Josef sat on two brown armchairs in the living room with looks of melancholy.
“You made him?” Hannah asked, looking at her father.
“Hannah, it is for the best. It isn’t safe,” Josef said.
“Mother?”
Josef had told Emma about his discussion, and her eyes, swiveling from Josef to Hannah, told Hannah that she was torn on what she thought was right and what was fair.
“We have to be careful, Hannah,” Emma tried reasoning.
“He didn’t run away. He stayed. I should have told him,” Hannah argued.
“No. You did the right thing—keeping it hidden,” Josef said.
“I am not ashamed of who I am, Father.”
“Nor am I,” Josef said. He rose and moved toward her. But Hannah dodged his hug and dashed into her bedroom. Josef followed after her.
“Let her be,” Emma advised.
Josef paused half-way between Hannah’s bedroom and the living room.
“Josef,” Emma sighed.
“Emma, we need to keep her safe,” he said adamantly.
“I know, but what if my father had stopped me?” she asked.
“He didn’t and look what I’ve made you—a Jew.”
“I chose that, and what you have made me is a wife and a mother. You have given me a great life.”
Hannah wanted nothing more than to drift off into a dreamless sleep but, instead, she stared at her off-white ceiling. It did not seem fair to be told what to do. She was nineteen. Her mother was married at her age and a year later, pregnant. Hannah had never missed her curfew once and had never snuck out of the house. But both streaks would end that night.
When she thought it was safe, she slowly opened her door and hoped it would not betray her cause with a creak. All the lights in the living room and kitchen were off. Her parents’ bedroom door was closed. She dr
essed as quickly as she could in the darkness and crept out of her bedroom. She grabbed her jacket draped over the back of the couch. She had gone from her bedroom to the kitchen for a glass of water nearly a thousand times and was therefore apt at moving around in the dark. The stairs were in her favor. They usually moaned and groaned when stepped on, but this time, they absorbed every sound. She had her reservations about breaking her parents’ trust, but she had given Wilhelm hers, and he had done nothing to lose it. And her trust was not something she gave away like a flier at a parade. The entire shop was testament to Wilhelm’s character.
She unlocked the door and slid out without fully opening it. She closed it, locked it, and stepped out into the cool, crisp air and walked as quickly as she could without drawing any attention. She had felt so safe with Wilhelm by her side on their walks, yet now, alone, Berlin was a city of unseen and unknown monsters. The city she loved had betrayed her, and it would never feel as safe again. She had to cross hordes of deserted streets and empty alleys until she finally reached Wilhelm’s apartment building.
She opened the door and dashed up the steps toward apartment number four-fourteen. She brought her hand to the door to knock but paused with tentativeness. She could still turn back. She had broken her parents’ curfew, not their trust. She knocked softly and paused. She took a deep breath and rapped on the door confidently. The door opened.
“Hannah?” Erich asked, his pale blue eyes too glazed to see properly. He yawned and rubbed his head. His hair stuck straight up, and he wore only a white t-shirt and boxer shorts.
“Is Wilhelm here?” Hannah asked.
“I think so. The door was shut when I got home from Lena’s,” Erich answered.
He looked still half-asleep and unable to remember such details.
“May I come in?” Hannah asked.
“Sure,” Erich said.
He opened the door fully and pivoted to allow Hannah to step in.
Hannah thanked him and walked in. Erich closed the door behind her and stumbled back into his bedroom and collapsed face first onto his bed. Hannah staggered toward the closed bedroom door and slowly turned the knob. A figure sat up when the door opened.
“Hannah?” Wilhelm asked, startled.
Hannah closed the door behind her and removed her coat and shoes, kicking them off and draping her coat over his dresser. Without a word, she crawled into Wilhelm’s bed and lifted his arm to cover her. The cold radiated from her body.
“Did you walk here?” he asked.
She only put a finger to his mouth. There would be time for words, but at that moment, she only wanted to sleep with Wilhelm by her side. Wilhelm reset his alarm clock to 3:30 so he could walk Hannah home before her parents awoke. Her shivering diminished as the heat trapped between their bodies increased. Their feet rubbed up against one another, and she entwined her hand with his. They only got three hours of sleep, but they were the best he had ever had. He awoke to taking in a deep breath of Hannah’s hair and the annoying buzzing sound of his alarm. How time could be so cruel.
“I have to take you home,” Wilhelm whispered into her ear.
The bed had never been warmer or more comfortable, and it called both of them back to it. Their eyes struggled to stay open, but as they stepped out of his apartment, the fresh, frigid air hit them like a cold shower.
“My father made you leave, Wilhelm,” Hannah said.
“I want you to be safe,” Wilhelm said.
“I want to live,” Hannah said, mimicking Wilhelm’s own words. She reached for his hand. “Dance with me?”
“Always,” he answered.
He pulled her close, and they danced under the streetlights.
“Where do you want to go?” Wilhelm asked.
“Los Angeles,” Hannah said with a smile.
“Close your eyes,” Wilhelm whispered.
Hannah looked into his dark eyes one last time before she closed hers. A soft hand arched her backward.
“Open your eyes,” Wilhelm whispered.
She opened her eyes. The moon and stars filled her view. She stared at them for only a moment before Wilhelm leaned in, blocking out a part of the moon, and kissed her.
Falling
It had been six weeks since Hannah had been forbidden to see Wilhelm, but each night since, she had snuck out. Her stomach would turn into a knot of guilt each time she crept through her own home like a burglar. But when she opened the shop door to find Wilhelm there, it was worth it. He had insisted he escort her, as he did not like the idea of Hannah walking alone. Their walks consisted of both deep conversation and reflective silence. When the snow fell, they would walk to the Spree River and watch it dance to the ground. By the time they would get to Wilhelm’s apartment, they would only get four hours of sleep before they needed to walk back to Hannah’s.
With each successful trip, Hannah secretly longed to get caught. She hated to hide such a thing from her parents. Wilhelm was one of the best things in her life, and it was alien to keep such a thing from them. The lack of sleep was well worth it, but she missed their dates. There were too many variables for it to continue unknown. Some nights, her father would fall asleep on the chair, and Hannah had to whisper from her window she could not go. Other nights, her parents stayed up later than usual, and Hannah would oversleep.
“I am going to tell my parents,” Hannah said, the guilt too heavy to fall asleep one night. She turned onto her back to look at Wilhelm as they lay in his bed. Wilhelm had been on the verge of drifting off to sleep.
“They may stop you from seeing me entirely,” Wilhelm said.
“I won’t let them,” Hannah reassured him.
“I want to be there when you do.”
Hannah smiled with appreciation. It was going to be the hardest thing she ever had to do. She had never lied to her parents, never kept secrets from them. They would be hurt but, at least, it would be out in the open and known, and Hannah liked to believe telling them rather than being caught showed greater respect and courage.
It was a Saturday morning, and they had gained an extra hour before her parents would wake, but she wanted to be certain she and Wilhelm were there when they did.
“Are you sure?” Wilhelm asked.
On the walk to Hannah’s, Berlin was theirs apart from a few workers opening their shops. There were almost no cars on the streets and next to no one on the sidewalks.
“I am sure,” Hannah said, but the terrible feeling in her stomach told her otherwise. Her feet refused to lift and walk up the stairs, and she felt light-headed and weak with each step.
Wilhelm had never seen her home, and though it was small, it gave a feeling of comfort. The paintings on the walls and the photographs on the dressers and cabinets made the home and the love inside something palpable. Wilhelm stopped to examine one of the paintings.
“Is this yours?” Wilhelm asked.
The painting was a scenic landscape of snow-covered evergreen trees.
“Yes,” Hannah said, her face blushing. She avoided looking at her painting or Wilhelm.
“You are impressive, Ms. Goldschmidt,” Wilhelm complimented before looking at a photograph of her parents.
“I love photography. The magic of it is something I cannot wrap my head around—to capture a moment forever with a single flash.”
Wilhelm recognized the passion for it in her voice. She struggled to remain quiet as she showed him her favorites. If it were Hannah’s choice, her home would be wallpapered with photographs.
The silent, dark, closed bedroom came to life. The floorboards creaked, and light cast out of the crack of the door. The color in Hannah’s face vanished. Wilhelm took her hand in his. The door opened and Josef stepped out. A startled look hung on his face when he saw Wilhelm.
“Hannah, what is this?” Josef asked.
Emma stood in the doorway of her bedroom, not concerned, but not condoning the secrecy either.
“I have been seeing Wilhelm. I never stopped. I don’t want to fight
with you, and I don’t want to lie to you,” Hannah said, letting out a sigh of relief after she finished.
“Hannah, we discussed this,” Josef said.
“You can’t keep me safe, Father. Wilhelm can’t keep me safe. But he makes me happy. You make me happy, and I don’t want to lose either of you,” Hannah said.
“He is a very nice young man, but you are Jewish, Hannah. Come to reason,” Josef tried explaining.
“The Nazis punish me for being a Jew. Will you punish me too?” she asked.
Emma put her hand on Josef’s—a subtle sign the power had been usurped.
“Your curfew is eleven. No more sneaking out. You will tell us where you are going and who you will be with,” Emma said.
Hannah flashed a smile that had enchanted Wilhelm from the start.
“Yes, Mother.”
“I do trust you, Hannah. My verdict is still out on him,” Josef said.
Hannah’s smile had enchanted Josef for far longer.
“He is teasing you, Wilhelm. He complimented you to the point of annoyance,” Emma said.
“Looks like you’ve missed your stop,” Josef said, shaking Wilhelm’s hand.
“How about breakfast?” Emma asked.
Even if Hannah didn’t consider seeing Wilhelm against her parents’ wishes wrong, neither she nor Wilhelm was the type who thought doing something wrong felt good. But now that her parents knew, the varying degrees of guilt knotting in her stomach had disappeared. She and Wilhelm spent the entire day together and every evening the week after.
Wilhelm genuinely liked his job, but the normal nine-hour shift had somehow morphed into a full cycle around the sun. Hans had grown tired of hearing “Hannah stories” so much that he put a limit of five references per day. Wilhelm saved his fifth to ask if he could teach Hannah how to drive after closing up. Hans bartered by taking a half-day on Friday.
Wilhelm had taken Hannah almost everywhere in Berlin within walking distance, but she did not expect to go to Wilhelm’s workplace. Wilhelm had shoveled off every car in the lot when he arrived that morning but now, almost twelve hours later, they were coated in a fresh, fluffy blanket of snow.
“Please tell me we are not going to be shoveling the cars off,” Hannah said with deep sarcasm.
Forever Fleeting Page 8