The Girl from Berlin, #1 Page 5

  “Excuse me, Fräulein, are you looking for someone?” A quiet woman’s voice with a slight Jewish accent behind my back brought me back to reality. I turned around and saw a little woman of probably my mother’s age, holding several books in her hands.

  “Yes, I actually am. Liebermans, the tailors. It used to be their store. Do you know them?”

  “Oh yes, of course I do. We have… we had a bookstore across the street.” She waved in the direction of yet another vandalized storefront. “That… used to be Berger’s bookstore. My name is Sarah.”

  “I’m Annalise. I’m not sure where they live, but it can’t be too far away, right? When do you think are they coming back? I’d love to help them clean up this mess.”

  “Oh, darling...” My new acquaintance looked at me with even more sorrow in her big eyes. “They won’t be back any time soon. The trucks took them all.”

  “What trucks?” I was getting more and more confused.

  “The trucks… A lot of people lived on the second floor, right above their stores, just like the Liebermans did, so whoever the soldiers saw, they took away.”

  “Took away where?”

  “To the camps, darling.”

  The last words she almost whispered, as if she was afraid that someone might hear her. The camps?

  “The concentration camps,” Sarah explained, seeing my confusion. “Those camps were operating since 1933, but before they were only used for political prisoners as I heard. I guess now they decided to put us there as well.”

  “I never heard of such a thing. Are you sure it’s not just… to scare people away? To make them emigrate?”

  Instead of responding to me, Sarah just made a circle with her hands around herself.

  “Then where did all the people go?”

  I was just staring at her without blinking. Every day I felt how such a familiar world was crushing and burning around me more and more, and there was nothing I could do about it. I looked down at the lace trims I was still holding, the same lace trims that always smiling Ruth Lieberman was holding in her skillful hands just one day ago, and I felt the tears filling up my eyes. I will probably never see them again. I slowly sat on the dirty floor and quietly started crying.

  “I’m sorry, dear.” Sarah sat next to me and hugged me by the shoulders. “Were you close with them?”

  “They were our family tailors. I’ve been going to them my whole life. They were our friends. They were such great, amazing, kind people! I was here just yesterday, and they were finishing the dress for my birthday. And we didn’t even have a chance to pay for it!”

  I don’t know why but that last thought of mine got me so devastated and guilty that I completely buried my face in Sarah’s coat and let the tears take over.

  I was standing behind the stage, warming up before the show. It was a full house tonight. The same people, who just several days ago burned down every synagogue in Berlin, now decided to turn to art. After forcing a big part of the Jewish population to the camps, they thought it would be appropriate to dress up, act all sophisticated, and go watch a ballet on a Friday night as if ‘rewarding’ themselves for a job well done. Animals. Heartless animals.

  Earlier that night one of the stage workers brought me a bouquet of red roses, saying that some “important” officer dropped them off. Oh, brother! The flowers stayed on my table not longer than two minutes, before I “accidentally” pushed the vase off the table and it broke in tiny pieces. For a second I was contemplating if I should just step on the glass and tell Frau Martha that I cut my foot and wouldn’t be able to perform tonight or till it heals. That way I wouldn’t have to dance for all those sickening people, and especially for Sturmbannführer Reinhard, the most sickening of them all. However, just before my bare foot almost touched the glass, I had a second thought about it: wouldn’t it mean that they won? Wouldn’t it mean that they broke my spirit just like they broke my people’s? And I decided not to give up so easily.

  I was dancing with such heart that night, with so much feeling that even Frau Martha, who very rarely praised anybody, kept repeating “Good job!” behind the stage. I was dancing for my people, for all of them who died and for all who were still left to suffer. I had no other way to express my sorrow, so I dedicated my dance to them, the only thing that I could do. But deep inside I promised myself that I’d find a way to help each and every one of them who’d crossed my path in the future, one way or another. I won’t be a silent bystander like my father, I won’t let the Nazis scare me. I will never, ever be a part of this new country. I’m going to fight them.

  My after-dance ecstasy didn’t last long, though. Just as I was trying to sneak out from the back entrance of the theatre, Sturmbannführer Reinhard (exactly whose company I was hoping to escape) grabbed me by my hand.

  “Where are you going, Annalise? I wanted to introduce you to some people. They were all under such an impression from your performance tonight, and I would really love it if you would join us for dinner.”

  “I’m sorry, Ulrich, but not tonight. I’m really exhausted and can’t wait to go to sleep.”

  My first “no” to Reinhard, to my surprise, came out much easier than I thought it would. I was even proud of myself. But really, after what he’d done to the Liebermans, I wasn’t even going to pretend to be nice to him anymore. Sturmbannführer, however, wasn’t used to hearing “no” from people.

  “I’m afraid I can’t let you do that, Annalise.” Even though he was smiling, his grip on my hand remained tight. “You’re my trophy for tonight, and I want to show you off.”

  I smiled back and tried to release myself, but to no avail.

  “Ulrich, you’re hurting my arm. Don’t forget that I’m a ballerina, not a soldier.”

  “Well, maybe your arm hurts from cleaning the Jewish trash for two days in a row?” He squinted his eyes at me.

  I did help some of our Jewish neighbors and especially Dr. Kramer (who luckily survived the pogrom) to clean up after Kristallnacht, but how the hell did Reinhard find out about it?

  “I was helping our family doctor. He saved my brother’s life.”

  He was clearly not satisfied with that answer.

  “I’m starting to get more and more curious about your family: you go to the Jewish tailors, you have a Jewish family doctor… your dancing partner was a Jew… Maybe I shall make a little report to the Gestapo or maybe even to SD, the Secret Service, to investigate this… interesting case? You sure seem to be very sympathetic to those dirty rats.”

  I wanted to shout, “You’re the biggest and dirtiest rat I’ve ever seen!!!” right to his face, but at the last second bit my tongue. The Gestapo didn’t sound good, and more than anything I didn’t want to put my family in danger. On the other hand, if Reinhard was trying to blackmail me in the hope that I would be following him everywhere without saying a word and doing whatever he told me to do, that was certainly not going to happen. So I just shrugged and calmly said, “Do what you think is right, Herr Reinhard. We’re good people and have nothing to hide. My father belongs to the Nazi Party and certainly gives them enough money to be considered a ‘loyal’ citizen.”

  “And meanwhile his daughter doesn’t even know the fundamental principles of this Party according to the friends she keeps.”

  “Thanks to you and your Party I almost don’t have any friends left.”

  “Oh, yes, by the way, what happened to that little Jewish boy, what was his name? Adam?”

  “He left the country. And good for him.”

  “Do you miss him?”

  Despite his sarcastic tone, Sturmbannführer Reinhard looked plain menacing now. In the poorly lit hallway, in his black uniform and with eyes sparkling with hardly masked anger, he was evil embodied. I don’t know why I remembered how my father once taught me that if you’re facing a growling dog, who’s ready to attack, showing your fear is the worst thing you can do. Keep looking it straight in the eye and do not back down in any circumstances. So I didn’
t.

  “Every single day.”

  What happened next I didn’t even see coming in a million years: Reinhard grabbed me by my throat and almost threw me into the wall, without releasing the grip on my neck. I hit my head hard, but luckily didn’t black out. He pressed his face next to mine and whispered right in my ear through clenched teeth, “You dirty little whore, you’re messing with them and playing hard to get with me, an SS Sturmbannführer of the German army?! I’ll teach you how to love your country, you little bitch!”

  To my luck at that exact same moment a stage worker happened to enter the hallway and stopped within steps from us, obviously deciding what to do. I could hardly breathe, let alone scream, so I just gave him the best pleading look I could.

  “What the hell are you staring at? Keep. Walking.”

  Unfortunately, Reinhard’s commanding tone and an SS officer’s uniform had more effect on the poor man than my look, so he just turned away and started to leave. I knew that this little distraction was my only chance to free myself, and with all the force I had I kicked the Nazi officer right in all men’s weakest spot – below his waist. The trick that Norbert taught me to protect myself from boys who bothered me in high school worked perfectly once again, and after Reinhard released his grip on my neck, I tried to push him away with all the strength of my tiny ballerina body. I almost got past him, but he obviously wasn’t planning to lose this fight and grabbed me by the sleeve. At that point I was already in survival mode, so I quickly wormed my way out of my coat and took off as fast as I could.

  Out in the street I immediately ran toward the darkest alley I saw and was running, changing streets, for a good ten minutes before I finally took a break to catch my breath. It seemed like no one was following me, but the next dilemma was where to go. Should I go home? But Reinhard, who certainly wasn’t an idiot (a dirty pig, but not an idiot), would most likely wait for me right by my doorstep. Dr. Kramer’s house? No, that’s an even worse idea, that sneaky Nazi bastard probably has a detailed file on every person he saw me talking to. And the poor doctor will probably be sent away right after the Liebermans for hiding me. No. I can’t risk that.

  After five minutes of sitting on somebody’s doorstep in the freezing November cold in a thin cotton dress, I began to shiver. I can’t stay outside either; I won’t probably even make it till the morning. God damn it! God damn Reinhard and all the Nazis!!! After I officially ran out of options where to hide and after I almost lost feeling in my arms and legs, I finally caught a car on the corner and asked a shocked driver to give me a lift home. When he questioned me as to what had happened, I told him that some crooks took my coat. They didn’t take my money though, so there was really no point to go to the police.

  The nice man pulled up to a house across the street from mine, just where I told him to (so I could have a clear view of the whole street), and even refused to take the money I offered him for his troubles. After he left, I took another good look around and, not seeing any suspicious activity, ran toward my house. I almost made it across the street, when all of a sudden I got blind-sided by the headlights of the quickly approaching car. Instinctively, I jumped back and couldn’t believe my eyes: it was the so well-known to me, by now, black Mercedes!

  “Oh, no! No, no, no!” I whispered to myself, slowly backing off from it. The driver’s door opened, and as soon as I saw that black leather coat, I turned around one-hundred-eighty degrees and ran toward our neighbor’s house. I didn’t see any lights on but was praying that they were just asleep and not out of town. The chance of me winning this race was very slim this time, and I already heard the quickly approaching steps behind me.

  “Annalise! Is that you?”

  The voice behind my back didn’t sound like Reinhard’s, but the noise in my head after I banged it on the wall was still pretty loud and who knows, maybe it was distorting the sounds around me. No matter what it was, I wasn’t going to stop.

  “Annalise! Wait!”

  I finally made it to our neighbor’s front door and started banging on it with both fists, screaming bloody murder. That didn’t last too long, though, as a strong grip pulled me away from the door and held both my hands tight, but surprisingly, without hurting me.

  “Let me go, you son of a bitch!!! Let me go right now!!!”

  This time he simply closed my mouth shut with one hand, still holding my arms with the other, trying to prevent me from waking up the whole neighborhood.

  “I will let go as soon as you stop screaming and kicking, deal?”

  That wasn’t Reinhard, I was sure of it now. This man was much taller and had a much more pleasant voice that I thought I had already heard before, somewhere. A little relieved by that fact, I slightly nodded and stopped my attempts to free myself. The man behind my back slowly let go of me, as if still expecting that I’d throw another fit. I turned around to take a look at him, but it was too dark, and he was wearing a Nazi uniform cap that was throwing a shadow on the upper part of his face, so I couldn’t quite see him.

  “What the hell are you doing running around in a summer dress, young lady? And why did you take off like a bandit when you saw my car?”

  “I thought you were somebody else…”

  He quickly took off his leather coat and put it on my shoulders. The much welcomed warmth and the smell of his perfume all of a sudden had such a comforting effect on me that I instantly felt very safe and protected.

  “Interesting girl you are, Annalise. Last time you ran into me; this time you were running away from me. Will we ever have a normal meeting?”

  What is he talking about? Or did I hit my head so hard that I’m hallucinating?

  “Do I know you?”

  “Sure you do. It’s me Heinrich. Heinrich Friedmann, your father’s friend, remember?”

  I hadn’t seen him in so long that it took me a moment to react. But after I realized that yes, it was him indeed, Papa’s good friend Officer Friedmann, standing here next to me and smiling, I forgot all about the good manners that Mama had taught me, threw my arms around his neck and hugged him as tight as I could.

  “Oh, thank God, Officer Friedmann, thank God, it’s really you!”

  He started laughing and hugged me back.

  “Wait, a minute ago you were kicking the hell out of me and now you’re happy to see me? Well, at least I’m glad that it’s not the other way round. Now, will you tell me what happened to you and your coat?”

  I finally felt embarrassed hugging my father’s friend (and, besides, a married man) in such an inappropriate manner and was just standing next to him now, wrapping myself in his warm leather coat.

  “One man… attacked me. I got away, but he took my coat.”

  “What man??”

  “An officer…”

  “An SS Officer??”

  “Yes… that’s why I got so scared when I saw your car. He drives a black Mercedes too.”

  “Do you know him?”

  “Kind of. He kept following me around for a couple of months, coming to my performances… made me go to dinners with him… My father warned me about him, but I couldn’t really say no to his invitations, because… he doesn’t really like it when people say ‘no’ to him… as I found out today.”

  “What’s his name?”

  “Sturmbannführer Ulrich Reinhard. He threatened me that if I refused to go out with him, he’d make a report to the Gestapo or even SD on our family. But I still told him to go to hell. Do you think I got myself in trouble?”

  “You absolutely have nothing to be afraid of, young lady. You did everything right, and your father will be very proud of you. And I’ll make sure that measures are taken against this bastard who has offended you.”

  “But what if he does go to SD?”

  “I wouldn’t worry about that if I were you.”

  “Why not?”

  “I’m the SD.”

  Chapter Five

  The very next day Officer Friedmann stopped by our house with a huge pack
age under his arm. I had to play the host myself since my mother was out shopping with Gryselda and my father was driving them. Norbert was at his new girlfriend’s house as I suspected (at least all his free time he spent there, so we always knew where to find him). Officer Friedmann didn’t seem too disappointed not to find my parents at home and gladly accepted my invitation for a cup of coffee (which I had little idea how to make, but how hard could it be? Gryselda made it all the time).

  “I’m actually here to see you, Annalise. I figured that you would be cold without your coat, so I pulled a couple of strings and got you this.”

  He handed me the huge package which he had come in with. It was a very pleasant surprise, especially taking into consideration that I had two other coats and he probably knew that. But what was inside the package absolutely took my breath away: it was a gorgeous, silver fox fur coat, a beauty like I’d never seen before in my life. For about a minute I was just holding it in my hands without saying a word; I actually thought I was dreaming.

  “What’s the matter? You don’t like it?” Officer Friedmann’s concerned look snapped me out of my initial shock.

  “Oh, no, it is absolutely gorgeous! I’m just… I’ve never had anything like it, so…”

  “Well, I thought it would be an appropriate present for your eighteenth birthday. Allow me?” He took the coat from my hands and held it for me to try on. I ran to the big hallway mirror and gasped.

  “Oh my God, it’s so beautiful!” I was turning from side to side, trying to see my gift from every angle.

  The way the sun was playing on the fur made it look simply out of this world. I couldn’t remember the last time I was that happy. Still completely ecstatic, I threw my arms around the smiling officer and kissed him on the cheek. He was a little surprised by such a shameless expression of my gratitude, so I quickly stepped away and made a mental note to stop doing that to my father’s friend. I was not a five-year-old, and thanking a married man by kissing him was not a “cute” thing to do anymore.