Forever Fleeting

by Bret Kissinger

  “We will be by the lake,” Hannah shouted through the door.

  Wilhelm and Heinrich muscled the keg, and even though they had walked to the lake countless times, it now seemed like they had accomplished one of the great feats of human history. They downed another pint of beer. The sun had long set, but only then did the temperature drop.

  “I am sorry, Hannah,” Wilhelm said.

  “For what?” she asked.

  “This,” Wilhelm answered, picking her up and sprinting into the water.

  She screamed when the cold water hit her flesh.

  Susan gave Heinrich a warning look as he approached her with the same intention.

  “You did reveal Lena’s location,” Heinrich said, justifying what he was about to do.

  A crime deserved punishment, so he scooped her up and dove into the water. Lena and Erich joined in less than an hour later, and after swimming and splashing around, they sat around a fire. Their drunkenness surrendered to exhaustion and consumed them. Hannah drove back with Lena and Susan early in the morning. Erich was no longer allowed to see her until the wedding day. Erich rode back with Wilhelm and Heinrich. But Erich barely opened his eyes the whole car ride home. They had to pull over more than a dozen times for Erich to vomit. Wilhelm was thankful Hannah had taken Hans’ car. Otherwise, he would have some major cleaning to do.

  Later that night, Wilhelm broke the news to Erich that his father had fallen ill, and that he and Hannah had to go to Schönfeld to take care of him. The disappointment in Erich’s voice was evident, and a surge of guilt flooded Wilhelm, and it seemed like it would never go away. Hannah’s phone call to Lena did not fare any better, but she was grateful Lena did not ask her to stay and let Wilhelm go alone. But in an effort to better their conscience, they did travel to Schönfeld. The bus ride was long and uncomfortable. The city had not changed. It was a comfort and, to Wilhelm, a dependable friend. The “Rote Blumen” seemed to carry the same flowers as it had when Wilhelm had left.

  “It feels like ages ago,” Hannah said.

  Wilhelm stood in exactly the same spot he had when he first saw her. But now, he did not have to worry about running after her or losing her in the blinding sun and a bustling city. She was his. And he was hers.

  Wilhelm should have known it would not be a straightforward visit. His father put him to work, and as Wilhelm mopped and swept, Petyr showed Hannah how to dry flowers, arrange bouquets, and create wreaths and centerpieces.

  “You have such an eye,” Hannah commented.

  “From Wilhelm’s mother. I was awful when we first opened. But she loved to do it,” Petyr said.

  “Do you have a photograph of her? I would very much like to see it,” Hannah asked.

  Petyr removed his ripped leather wallet from his pocket and took out a torn, battered photo from it. Saundra, with the same dark hair as Wilhelm, smiled with baby Wilhelm on her lap. She squeezed his pudgy fingers and pointed ahead, no doubt toward the camera to draw Wilhelm’s attention to it.

  “She was beautiful. Thank you for showing me,” Hannah said.

  Wilhelm’s mood changed, and even though he loved to think about his mother, seeing her picture smashed his heart with a sledgehammer. The change was not just in Wilhelm. Petyr too remained quiet for the next forty minutes. He and Hannah arranged bouquets, and Wilhelm continued to do the same mind-numbing chores that had driven him insane throughout his childhood. Yet, somehow, he found it impossible to complain, as it brought a relaxing nostalgia over him. Hannah was able to get Petyr to open up in a way Wilhelm never could, and after years of failure, he had simply stopped trying. But Petyr told stories of Wilhelm’s mother that made Wilhelm smile and tear up. He tried hiding his tears from his father and stayed outside for a few minutes after emptying the trash into the dumpster.

  Hannah and Wilhelm stayed a week, working the shop, while Petyr stayed home to better sell the lie, as the Brinkerhoffs had many family and friends in the city. At night, they would make dinner and play cards. After a week, Hannah and Wilhelm drove back to Berlin. That night, they cooked dinner for Erich and Lena and apologized again for missing their wedding, but both were overly kind and only asked how Wilhelm’s father was doing.

  August came and more weekend trips to Lena’s cabin followed. Sunday mornings were spent with Hannah painting or drawing and Wilhelm playing the guitar. But as the dog days of August winded down, Germany prepared for war.

  Conscripted

  The first of September 1939 was a Friday, and the tradition of dinners continued at Wilhelm and Hannah’s apartment. Erich had moved in with Lena and her parents while their house was being built. But unlike the countless previous Fridays where after the dinner’s dishes were washed, dried, put away, and cards played, the Führer had a special speech for all of Germany.

  Erich fine-tuned the signal on the radio.

  “For months, we have been suffering under the torture of a problem, which the Versailles Diktat created—a problem which has deteriorated until it becomes intolerable for us,” Hitler’s voice said.

  The Führer was an exceptional orator, and his charisma was not diminished by the radio. When eyes were closed, it was like Hitler was in the very room, and for that reason, Hannah didn’t blink. Murmurs had said fighting had broken out on the Polish border, and all of Berlin, all of Germany, and the entire world waited for the Führer’s address.

  “This night, for the first time, Polish regular soldiers fired on our territory. Since 5:45 a.m., we have been returning the fire, and from now on, bombs will be met by bombs. Whoever fight with poison gas will be fought with poison gas. Whoever departs from the rules of humane warfare can only expect that we shall do the same. I will continue this struggle, no matter against whom, until the safety of the Reich and its rights are secured,” Hitler continued.

  Wilhelm, Erich, and Heinrich exchanged looks. Fighting had started. War had started. And war needed young men to fight it. The address changed thousands of lives in seconds.

  “And I would like to close with the declaration that I once made when I began the struggle for power in the Reich. I then said, ‘If our will is so strong that no hardship and suffering can subdue it, then our will and our German might shall prevail!’” Hitler ended.

  “We were left with no choice,” Erich said as he switched the radio off.

  The Führer had stated in his speech that he sought peace repeatedly only to be met with oppression and mobilization. But Hannah was not so quick to believe the Führer’s words.

  “We are taking back what is ours,” Lena said.

  Her pride in Germany and the Reich was fully evident. Her father had been promoted to SS-Untersturmführer and Erich to SS-Oberschütze. The Hauser name continued to ascend the Nazi ladder.

  “We invaded Poland,” Wilhelm said, disagreeing.

  How could Lena say Germany was defending itself when Germany bulldozed into Poland?

  “Our country starved for years after the Great War ended,” Lena said, her face reddening and her voice rising, “We were not given humility in our defeat. I remember my father burning money during the winter because it provided nothing but kindling. Thousands of Germany’s sons fought to better our lives, and their sacrifice went in vain until now. I commend the Führer for not bending to please France or England. Germany is not a domesticated dog. It is a wild wolf, and we will not take orders from sheep and sheepdogs.”

  No one argued with her. They had all been told of uncles or cousins who had been killed during the fighting. But the Great War was a war of attrition. Even the Hausers had suffered during the decade after the war. Bread cost .63 marks in 1918. In November of 1923, bread cost 201,000,000,000 marks. The exchange rate between the US dollar and the Deutsche mark was one trillion marks to the US dollar.

  On 3 September, France, Britain, Australia, and New Zealand declared war on Germany, and Canada declared war a week later. On 17 September, the Soviet Union, under the leadership of Joseph Stalin, invaded Poland. The argument that th
e fight for mere feet of land would take months was poorly founded, as less than a month after the fighting had started, on 27 September, Warsaw surrendered. In less than thirty days, Germany had conquered a country. Wilhelm and Heinrich both expected to be notified of their obligation to serve, but September came without it, and they started to let the ember of hope breathe life into a roaring fire. Perhaps they would not have to go to war after all.

  October brought windy gusts and falling leaves and November, frigid mornings and late-month snowfall. Wilhelm and Hannah carried on like normal. Wilhelm worked for Hans during the day while, on Thursday nights, they danced at “Verdrehende Nächte,” and on Fridays were dinner with Erich, Lena, Heinrich, and a rotation of women. The snowfall and cold temperatures only increased Hannah’s holiday spirit.

  The Friday before Christmas, 22 December, Wilhelm was late in returning home from work. Lena, Erich, Heinrich, and his date would arrive in ten minutes, and his tardiness had put a handicap on Hannah having dinner ready in time. But Hannah was not at the stove or by the fridge. She was seated at the kitchen table, staring at the pile of mail as if expecting it to take flight.

  “What’s wrong?” Wilhelm asked, closing the door behind him.

  Hannah pointed to the thick brown card, no larger than an index card, amongst the pile. Wilhelm stared at it from the safe distance of the entryway and then lumbered to the table, took the brown card, and read it.

  “I have been drafted. I have to report on Christmas day,” Wilhelm said. His strength traveled out of his body like an evacuation. It was a cruel nightmare. It had to be. He looked about the room for any signs of it being a dream. But every sight, every smell, and every sound were as they should be. Hanukkah had ended on the 14th, but the two celebrated Christmas as well. It was hardly the gift either had wanted.

  “Don’t go, Wilhelm,” Hannah pleaded.

  “I have to,” Wilhelm said. If he didn’t go, they would be forced to leave the country, and even if Hannah’s passport worked, her parents would be left behind.

  Fists beat against the other side of the door, and Heinrich entered. “Did you get it too?” he asked. Heinrich had always been full of color and confidence. But his face was ghost white, and he had a nervousness Hannah had never seen from him.

  Wilhelm held up the draft notice.

  “Maybe we’ll get assigned together,” Heinrich said, his voice filled with a dusting of hope.

  “Maybe,” Wilhelm said, his voice caked in doubt.

  “I do not want to fight,” Heinrich said.

  There was another knock on the door. Lena and Erich came in and tossed their jackets on the back of the couch.

  “You have gotten your notices?” Lena asked after seeing the brown card.

  Wilhelm could only nod.

  “Perhaps you will be serving under me,” Erich said, somehow smiling.

  Erich had been a brother but seeing him smile about leaving for war had made him a stranger.

  “Can we talk about something else? Anything else,” Hannah insisted.

  Lena moved over to Hannah and squeezed her hand. “We took Poland in less than a month, Hannah. This war will be over in a year.”

  Each tried to do their best to enjoy the night, but only Lena and Erich were in high spirits. It was the least fun their Friday dinners had been. Hannah and Wilhelm kept reminding each other they still had Saturday and Sunday. Wilhelm stopped by Hans’ house early Saturday to tell him he had been drafted and would no longer be around to work.

  “You be careful. I’ve been there. It isn’t pretty,” Hans said.

  It was obvious advice, but Wilhelm still appreciated it. Hans squeezed Wilhelm in an unexpected hug and promised him there would be a job waiting for him when he got back. He also let Wilhelm borrow one of his cars one last time, and he and Hannah drove to Schönfeld to tell his father of his draft notice. They had not mentioned it to Petyr for hours until they sat down for an early four-o’-clock dinner. But, like the dinner when Wilhelm had told his father he was moving to Berlin, his father ignored all the telltale signs, including glances between Hannah and Wilhelm, awkward silence, forced conversation, and the shifting of vegetables on Wilhelm’s plate.

  “Father, I have been drafted,” Wilhelm finally said. Petyr did his best to keep his face void of emotion, but his mouth dropped a bit. The words had brought Petyr back to the fields of Verdun. “Many expect the war to be over quickly,” Wilhelm added.

  Petyr shook his head, almost laughing at the idea. “They said the same thing when I fought—just a few more weeks. Hundreds were dying every damn day. Look at me, Wilhelm. This is the face of a survivor. Shadows and silhouettes of what we once were. War only takes. It doesn’t give. You don’t win.”

  Wilhelm’s thoughts went to the medal. The blood pump of the world would run once again.

  “Don’t repeat my mistakes,” Petyr said.

  Wilhelm had never once heard his father plead, but his words sounded an awful lot like it.

  “What can I do?” Wilhelm asked.

  “I mean, during the fighting, don’t ask the names of the men next to you. They may not make a day or a week. You stay detached,” Petyr said sternly.

  It was impossible to tell who was more alarmed—Wilhelm or Hannah. The mood had shifted so much that the plates of food could not be touched. When Wilhelm said goodbye, it was another handshake that met him. But it was the longest handshake his father had ever given him.

  Hannah and Wilhelm left his father and his hometown behind. They had planned to spend the night alone, but when they arrived at their apartment, Erich was on the steps. He rose to his feet when Hannah and Wilhelm approached.

  “About time,” Erich said.

  “What’s wrong?” Wilhelm asked.

  “Lena and I would like to invite you over to Untersturmführer Hauser’s and Mrs. Hauser’s home.”

  Lena and Erich’s house was scheduled to be completed in only four months. To celebrate, they were going to have a weekend-long celebration. But now, in four months, Wilhelm, Erich, and Heinrich would be somewhere in Europe fighting a war.

  “I do not feel like it,” Wilhelm said.

  “Please. It is the last chance we have before we leave,” Erich insisted.

  The next day was Christmas Eve and would be spent with their families. But Hannah and Wilhelm hardly felt like being with company, especially the war-happy Hausers. But they had missed Erich and Lena’s wedding, and it would be the last time they would all be together for months.

  “Fine,” Hannah said, forcing a smile.

  Erich returned it with considerably less effort. He gave Hannah and Wilhelm a ride in one of the cars the Hausers owned. Lena had said her family had taken over several businesses from Jewish people as a part of a law that had started in October 1938. To Hannah, it was riding in a coffin or grave robbing. She was sick thinking of how many families starved so the Hausers could have another automobile. The disgusted stomach she had had in the car amplified at the sight of the Hauser homestead. It was enough to make her vomit. The lawn and trees were covered in a blanket of snow, but the driveway was neatly shoveled, no doubt every hour by hired help. The front door of the house opened for them and Jakob, casually dressed, stood with a glass of whiskey in his hand and a cigarette between his fingers.

  “Wilhelm! Hannah! Nice of you to join us. I hope your father is doing well,” Jakob said.

  “He is. Thank you,” Wilhelm replied.

  Hannah held out a bottle of wine for Jakob. Though it was cheap and did not have enough class to be mentioned with the wines the Hausers had in their cellars, it was the gesture she hoped they took.

  “We don’t drink wine,” Jakob said with a deadpan expression, then smiled.

  “Certainly not such quality as this,” Hannah said.

  “Nonsense. Thank you. We shall drink this bottle when the war is over and our fighting men return home,” Jakob said.

  Wilhelm, Hannah, and Erich sat on the entryway bench and removed thei
r shoes while Ida rushed forward with a welcoming smile. “I can take your coats,” she said and helped Hannah remove hers. Hannah thanked her, and Ida hung the three coats in the closet.

  The heat from the fireplace was strong, and the feeling in their fingers and toes returned almost immediately.

  “I’m glad you decided to come. I sent Erich an hour ago,” Lena said.

  “I’m only frostbitten from the waist down,” Erich said, standing by the crackling fire to warm himself.

  Heinrich sat on the couch with a familiar face beside him.

  “Eva!” Hannah said, shocked to see her.

  “It’s about time Heinrich tightened the screws in his head,” Lena teased.

  “Hello, Hannah,” Eva greeted.

  Of all of Heinrich’s dates, Eva had been Lena and Hannah’s favorite. It was only too bad Heinrich had finally seen it two days before he had to leave. Heinrich was still not his charismatic, confident self. He had the appearance of someone battling the stomach flu.

  Lena gave Wilhelm and Hannah a glass of red wine, and the two sat beside Heinrich and Eva on the couch. With each opening of the oven, the smell of seasoned goose and a wide array of pies crept out of the kitchen like an invisible fog and rose to their nostrils. After roughly half an hour, Ida announced dinner was ready. It was the type of spread Wilhelm and Hannah had grown accustomed to seeing when they visited the Hausers, and they only hoped their appetite would cooperate.

  “Father met with the Führer today,” Lena said, her pride and excitement on full display.

  “Lena, it’s not good to brag. I met with several other officers as well,” Jakob said.

  “Tell them what he said, Father,” Lena said.

  Ida and Jakob smiled at one another—both filled with pride over their daughter’s nationalism.

  “He understands the sacrifice and burden Germany’s sons must undertake. He assures us our struggle is his struggle. He will do what is necessary to achieve absolute victory,” Jakob said.

  No one but Lena and Ida gave any sign Jakob had spoken.