Emilee blushed and looked at Hans. “You never told me that.”
He looked at Liliya. “You never told me that.” Then he changed the subject. “How are the children, Liliya?”
“Driving us all crazy. We are living with my mother until we get things back to normal. But they are down in the hospital playroom at the moment. Would you like to meet them, Emilee?”
“I would love to.”
As they left the room, Hans turned to Fritzie. “So, is the insurance going to pay for the restaurant?” he asked quietly.
Fritz exploded in disgust. “Ach! Those swine. They are saying that because I left the grill on all night, they will only pay seventy Pfennige on the mark.”
“Did you leave the grill on?” Hans asked.
“At one in the morning? Of course not.” He shrugged. “But Anatoly and I are anxious to rebuild, so we’ll probably settle with them.”
He reached out and cuffed Hans on the arm. “So, you are setting a date yet? We expect invitation, ja?”
“Of course.” Hans pulled up a chair. “But nothing’s settled yet,” he admitted. “But she likes you, and that gives me hope. If she can like a bear like you, maybe she’ll get used to me.” Again he changed the subject. “How is Anatoly?”
“He is gut. Doing well. He will be here in one hour. He will be glad to see you.”
“Unfortunately, Emilee and I have a train to catch. But we’ll come back.”
Fritzie grasped his hand, nearly crushing it in his grip. “If you don’t, I break head open, no?”
Hans laughed. “I believe you would, Fritzie.”
8:37 a.m.
As Emilee and Hans left the hospital, she reached out and took his hand. He shot her a look, which she ignored. This was the first time she had done so since they had been reunited. “I like them,” she said. “I like them a lot.”
“They are good people.”
“So, you still won’t tell me what we’re doing next?” Emilee asked.
“We’re seeing some friends. I want to say good-bye to them before we leave.”
This wasn’t much of an answer at all, but she said nothing more on that. “Does Fritzie want you to come back and work for him?”
“Ja.”
“Liliya told me that if you do, he and Anatoly will make you a partner.”
Hans’s eyebrows lifted, but he said nothing.
“Does that interest you?” she asked.
He shrugged. “Not really. As much as I would enjoy working with them.”
She nodded. “Gut. I don’t picture you as a cook.”
“Because I would get all fat and lumpy like Fritzie?”
“No, because I think your customers might burn you out too.”
She jumped away as he threw a playful punch at her. Then she took his hand. “So, where to?”
9:20 a.m.—Stressenberger Allee 86, Moabit District, Berlin
Hans had been wrong. The tenement buildings here were not two stories high; they were five and six stories high, with four flats to each building. Most of the windows had small clotheslines strung across postage-stamp-sized balconies, and most of these had clothes hanging on them that were frozen stiff in the cold.
He had also been wrong about the outhouses. As near as he could tell, there were no back alleys here, so it was the gutters on both sides of the street that ran with sewage. At the moment there was no hint of a breeze, so the smell was boxed in between the high buildings and even permeated the inside of the taxicab. It was pretty overpowering.
Hans leaned forward and spoke to the taxi driver. “We’ll be about half an hour. Can you pick us up again right here?”
“Not sure. I might have another fare.”
“There’ll be a healthy tip in it for you.”
“How healthy?”
“Ten marks if you’re here on time.”
“I’ll be here.”
Hans got out and went around and opened the door. For a minute, Emilee didn’t move. Her eyes took in the building across the street from where they were parked. Her nosed was wrinkled into a grimace. “And you won’t tell me what this is all about?”
“It won’t be long now.” Hans extended his hand. She got out, and the taxi driver drove away.
“Does this bother you?”
Her head came up slowly. “This is what I grew up with,” she said. “Why would it bother me?”
“Because it’s been more than a few years, right?”
She nodded grimly. “But some memories never fade.”
“Come on. It’s number eighty-six.”
Emilee looked around and then pointed to a tenement three doors down. “There.”
He took her hand. “You’ve got good eyes.”
“So does everyone else,” she said quietly.
“Yeah, I noticed.” At virtually every window, there were little faces with their noses pressed up against the glass. And behind them, adult faces peered over their heads and shoulders at these strangers who had come to their neighborhood in a taxicab.
9:24 a.m.
On the top floor, in a darkened hallway, Hans lifted his hand but then lowered it again.
“Are they expecting us?”
Hans shook his head. “They don’t have phones here.”
“You could have sent them a note.”
“I just met them three days ago,” he said.
Ignoring her surprise, Hans went on. “It’s Sunday. And it’s cold outside. They’ll be home.”
In fact, he could hear voices from inside. He rapped sharply on the door. Hans reached out and took Emilee’s hand. “Thank you for doing this with me.”
“Don’t thank me. I have no idea what I’m doing here.”
Footsteps approached, and Hans stepped back. When the door opened, it was Anna. For a moment, her eyes couldn’t make out who they were. She opened the door a little wider. The light fell on Hans’s face, and she gave a little squeal. “Hans!”
“Hello, Anna,” he said. “I told you I would come.”
Shocked, she just stared at him, and then she whirled. Behind her a little boy, maybe three, with long, tousled, dark hair, came into the hallway. “Jakob!” Anna called over her shoulder.
“Yes,” a man’s voice called from somewhere in the back. “Who is it?”
She turned back, radiant with joy. “Come and see.” And then she grasped both of Hans’s hands. “I told him you would come. He didn’t believe me, but I told him you would come.”
Now other children were poking their heads out, eyes wide and curious. Anna stepped back. “I’m sorry. I’m forgetting my manners. Come in.”
Just then a figure came shooting out of one of the side doors, brown hair flying. “Hans! Hans!” She hurtled across the room, and threw herself into his arms. Laughing, Hans caught her in mid-air and twirled her around. “Yes, Nattie. It’s me.”
He set her down, leaving her somewhat breathless. Suddenly she went up on tiptoes, peering up at his face. Then a tiny smile appeared. “The bugs are gone,” she said with great satisfaction. “Yes,” Hans laughed, reaching for Emilee’s hand. “And guess who took them out.”
9:57 a.m.
Before Hans even got into the taxi, Emilee had the other window rolled down and had her head out, waving to the family on the front step of the tenement. “Bye! Auf Wiedersehen.”
Hans got in, shut the door, and slid over beside her. “Auf Wiedersehen,” he called, moving so he could see them too. Anna and Natalee stood together, clasping hands, tears streaming down their faces. The other children were smiling and shouting their farewells. Jakob had one hand up. In it were a few bills. “God bless you, Hans,” he cried. “God bless you.”
Hans pulled his head back inside and tapped the driver’s shoulder. “Okay. Back to the hotel.”
As the cab started forward, Emilee rolled up the window. “How much did you give him?”
“You weren’t supposed to see that.”
“How much?”
“A hundr
ed marks.”
Her eyes widened momentarily, but she said nothing.
“I wish it could have been more. It won’t go far.”
Emilee started to fiddle with the buttons on her jacket. “I told Anna to use some of it to buy something special for the children.”
He reared back. “My goodness. You’ve really hit it off with these ladies. First Liliya, now Anna.”
“The hunger will be back,” she said quietly, “but I told her if she bought some tiny trinket, even something utterly useless that the children get to pick out for themselves, I promised her they would never forget it.”
Hans was dumbstruck, but then after a moment he nodded. “I wish I had thought of that.”
She smiled. “That’s why you brought me along.” The smile vanished again. “That, and to soften me up, right?”
“I knew you’d think that.”
“Well, didn’t you?”
“No.”
“Not even a little?” she asked skeptically.
“All right, maybe a little. But I would have come without you.”
“Tell me about them. How did you meet?”
So he told her of his reconnaissance mission to Pariser Plaza, and how Nattie had stopped and stared at him when she saw the stitches. He shrugged. “We kind of became friends.”
“Kind of?” she retorted. “Natalee absolutely adores you.”
Hans blushed a little. “She’s amazing. She has so much curiosity. Wants to know everything.”
Emilee was watching him closely. “So why did you bring me?”
He looked away. “Because . . . I hoped it would help you better understand something.”
“All right, what?”
He was staring out the window as he began to speak. “I don’t know what it was about them. And not just them. I was in the midst of thousands of others just like them.”
She shook her head. “There are thousands like them,” she said.
He nodded. “I don’t what it was, but it deeply affected me. Profoundly affected me. And I . . . I don’t know. I’m not even sure how to say it. First, I realized how lucky I was—to have been born in my family, to have a good life, even though it was a simple one. To have an education.” He turned to her. “I don’t think either Jakob or Anna can read or write.”
“I don’t know about Jakob, but Anna can’t.”
“She told you that?”
“Yes. Natalee went to primary school for a couple of years, but then Anna’s mother’s health began to fail, and she couldn’t care for the children anymore while Anna went out to do laundry and housecleaning. So Natalee has to stay home with the younger ones now.” Her voice caught. “Which breaks Anna’s heart.”
“And I got to go to the Von Kruger Academy,” Hans said. “An arrogant prig like me. Where’s the justice in that?” He took a quick breath. “And—I don’t know what came over me. Suddenly, I had this overwhelming urge to do something.”
“For the Litzsers, you mean?”
“That too, but no. Bigger. To do something more with my life than making a living and making a name for myself. To . . . to . . .” He threw up his hand. “I don’t know. To matter, I guess.”
Hans stopped, waiting for Emilee to speak, but she just watched him, her eyes unreadable.
“I’m not even sure what that means,” Hans continued. “Do I get a university education? Invent some fantastic new device and make a fortune so I can help people like Anna?” He suddenly burst out in exasperation. “I gave Jakob a hundred marks. What will that do for them? Feed them for a week? It’s nothing. In fact, it may only make it harder to go back to what they had before. Think if I could pay for Natalee’s education. Even send her to the Von Kruger Academy. That wouldn’t change the world, but it would matter a great deal to her.”
“Yes it would,” Emilee murmured.
“Or maybe I just go back to Graswang and become a dairyman. Or take the colonel’s offer and make the military my career. That would at least be a steady income while I try to sort it all out.”
“No.”
That surprised him. “No? Why not?”
“Do you have to ask? When you heard them singing ‘Mein guter Kamerad’ you couldn’t bear it and had to leave. And when you saw that that young boy had been killed, you got physically sick. That is not what you want for a career, Hans. The price is too high for you.”
“And what about joining my brothers-in-law on the dairy farm?”
“No. That’s not for you either.”
“Then what is, Emilee? The University of Berlin? I once thought so, but I’m not sure anymore.”
“You can do it,” she said with great conviction. “And with an education like that, you could really make a difference, Hans.”
“I know I could,” he exclaimed. “That’s not the question. The question is whether that is what I should do.” He hurried on. “I know how you feel about it. And I understand why. But I’m not sure anymore, Emilee. And until I am, I’m not going to tell you I’ll do it just to win you back.”
She visibly flinched, but after a moment she pulled a wry face. “Maybe this total honesty phase is not all it’s cracked up to be.”
That won her a smile from him. Then Hans sighed. “Sorry. I’ve thought of little else since I met Jakob and Anna and Nattie.” Then he cocked his head quizzically. “So, is it working?”
“What?”
“Is all of this softening you up?”
She almost quipped something cute and clever back, but she couldn’t do it. “I don’t know, Hans. To be honest with you, I don’t know what I think right now. I came here expecting to talk to a drunk, a loser, a thief. Not this starry-eyed idealist who suddenly wants to change the world. I’m still trying to process that.”
“I understand.”
Emilee reached out and took Hans’s hand, interlocking her fingers with his. Then she scooted closer to him and laid her head against his shoulder. “But don’t stop trying. I kind of like it.”
10:45 a.m.—Hotel Lindenberg, Prenzlauer Berg District, Berlin
A knock sounded on the door of room 214. Hans walked over to it and opened it. Georg was standing there. “Guten Morgen, Sergeant Eckhardt. It is so good to see you again.”
“Thank you, Georg. Come in.” As he did so, Hans motioned to Emilee. “I understand you two have met already.”
“Yes,” Emilee said. “Good morning, Georg.”
“Guten Morgen, Fräulein. I’m glad you were able to find him.” Then he looked to Hans, anxiety twisting his face a little. “My father asked if you want to come settle up,” he said.
“No. Tell him I’m not going to ask for the rest of my money back. I wanted to talk to you, Georg. Sit down.” He motioned to the bed.
Georg did so, visibly relaxing a little.
Hans reached back, pulled out his billfold, and extracted a ten-mark note and handed it to him. “That’s the tip I promised you for helping me.”
Georg’s eyes grew bigger. “But we settled on two marks. And even that is not necessary, Sergeant. That’s not why I did it.”
“All the more reason for taking it.” He extracted another ten-mark note and extended it. This time Georg fell back a bit. “What’s that for?”
Hans got to his feet, stepped in front of Georg, and put a hand on the back of his neck and pulled him up to his feet. “It’s for your college.”
The kid’s mouth fell open. “What?”
“It’s not much, but I want you to put it in the bank. That starts your college fund. I want you to save every Pfennig you can spare from this moment on and add to that fund.”
Georg was speechless. Hans pulled him closer until their faces almost touched. “Georg, listen to me. You’re too bright to spend your life behind a hotel desk. Do you understand me?”
His face came alive with a grin that split his face nearly in two. “Yes, Sergeant. I do.”
Hans let go of his neck and stepped back. “Good. I’ve watched how you study at night
. You love to learn, Georg. I can see that. So don’t quit.”
Hans walked over and picked up his rucksack and then turned to Emilee. “You ready?”
She went over to Georg and gave him a hug. “The sergeant has done some really stupid things,” she said with a smile. “But that advice he just gave you isn’t one of them.” Then, without waiting for Georg’s response, she turned to Hans. “Yes, I’m ready.”
Hans shook hands with Georg. “We’re going down the back stairs. The taxi’s in the alley. Why don’t you wait until we’re gone to tell your father?”
10:52 a.m.—Alley behind Hotel Lindenberg
As Hans put their bags in the back of the taxi, he noticed that Emilee was watching him with a bemused expression. He shut the lid of the trunk and turned to her. “What?”
“Are you sure you’ve got enough money to get us to Bavaria?”
“Of course, why do you ask?”
“I guess I’m not used to watching you spend money like a drunken sailor, and I just wondered.”
He frowned. “I. . . .”
She cut in before he could finish his sentence. “That’s not a criticism, just an observation.”
He relaxed and opened the door for her. “You’re jealous because I’m not spending it on you.”
“Ha!” she cried as she popped him on the arm. “I’m just worried that it’s all going to be gone before we’re out of Berlin.” She laughed as Hans leaned forward and spoke to the driver. “Berlin Central Station, please.”
January 20, 1919, 7:35 p.m.—Near Murnau am Staffelsee, Bavaria
Emilee came awake with a jerk. Her head snapped up and she looked around wildly. Hans reached out and put his arm around her, pulling her close. “Emilee, I’m right here.”
She looked at him, eyes confused for a moment, but then she visibly relaxed. He smiled at her. “Guten Abend, Fräulein.”
She pulled away and sat up straighter and then turned and looked out the window. It was pitch black outside, and the only thing she could see was a scattering of lights off in the distance. Yawning, she rubbed at her eyes and finally looked at Hans. “Where are we?”
“We’ll be to Murnau in about ten minutes.”
She pulled a face. “Oh, that’s helpful.”
He smiled. “We are currently on the Munich to Garmisch-Partenkirchen line, but at Murnau we change trains and take another line to Oberammergau.”
Fire and Steel, Volume 2 Page 40