Page 123 of Hell to Pay
It took a moment, but I finally got a reluctant nod, and when our hands were wrapped around hot cups of tea—peppermint again, not sharing the real stuff, because that saintly, I was not—I said, “You didn’t know about me.”
“No,” he said. “She told me there had been some refugees.Jewishrefugees. But that they’d gone to a camp.” He made a face, and the hot blood was in my cheeks again.
“Yes,” I said. “I came with them. Dr. Becker was our family’s doctor. He’s an eminent man. A good man.”
“And endangering my family.”
Another of those deep breaths. I was seventeen today, and it was going to take all the maturity I could conjure up to have this conversation. “No,” I said. “By the time we came, the Americans were nearly here. There was no danger to your family. But your wife, to her credit, didn’t seem to considerthat. She gave us tea and preserves and cheese for our bread when we were starving and thirsty, and offered us shelter before she even knew how well I could bake. I’ve tried my best to repay her. I believe I’ve done so.”
“And when you rescued an enemy soldier,” Herr Adelberg said. “Was that also for the benefit of my family?”
“Well, yes,” I said coolly, “as it turned out. Joe’s brought us supplies we couldn’t have got otherwise—coffee, sugar, powdered milk and eggs, white flour, even toilet paper. So many things. My money has bought much more, and the bicycle to carry it all home. I realize I can’t stay here if you don’t want me, but I won’t crawl away in shame, either, or pretend that I’ve done something wrong.”
“Your parents are dead,” Herr Adelberg said.
“Yes.” I didn’t say more, for what was there to say?
“Would they be proud of you?” he said. “Being with an American?”
“Oh, he’s more than an American,” I said. “He’s also a Jew. And a good man. What of your guards there in England? Were they all cruel?”
He dropped his gaze. “No. Not all. But my wife says, about this trial?—”
“Yes,” I said, “Joe’s working on the trial. You’ll see, when you read about it, how you were lied to, what was done in your name. Don’t you want the people who did it, who got your son killed and got you locked up away from your family, for the sake of nothing but their own arrogance and ambition, to pay for what they’ve done?”
“Don’t you want the people who bombed your home to pay?” Herr Adelberg raised his hands, then dropped them. “We’ll never agree. If my son had come home with a Russian girl?—”
“If a Russian girl had saved your son’s life?” He shrugged, and I said, “It’s not so easy. Not nearly as easy as we’ve beentaught, as everybody’s taught. Here we are now, surviving because the Americans must feed us. How well do you imagine that’s going in the Russian zone? You wonder why I don’t go home now, I’m sure. It’s because my home is in the Russian zone, and to go there, for me, means imprisonment or death.”
He scoffed a little. “Nothing so dramatic, surely.”
“Yes,” I said. “Exactly that dramatic.” I rose, then, for my tea was gone. “I’m going to the church, and then I’m going to make a plan. Can you allow that?”
He looked down at his cup, then up at me. “I can’t feed another mouth,” he said. “Not one I don’t need, that’s not my family.”
“I know,” I said. “I know.”
By the time I reached the gate to the Americans’ camp, I was half frozen. My hands were blocks of ice inside my woolen mittens, and my toes and face felt frostbitten. I practically fell off my bicycle as the guard, his rifle held ready in both hands, said, “U.S. Army.Eintritt verboten.”
This again. I said, “I need to see Staff Sergeant Joe Stark.”
“You’re English,” he said.
“Yes,” I said. Lying on Christmas, after going to Mass! “But a German citizen now. Here are my papers.” I handed them over, then decided to add, “Please don’t turn me away. It’s Christmas, and I’m very cold. Please call for Staff Sergeant Stark.”
52
AND THEN THERE’S THE TRUTH
I’d been cold riding here. After fifteen minutes of standing around, I was shaking all over. What had I been thinking, coming here on Christmas? I was only going to have to ride back again, and I honestly felt as if I’d fall off my bicycle if I did, my joints frozen solid. The sentry was back in his guardhouse, his palms under his armpits for warmth, the sky was dull and empty, and the roads were barren of vehicles or pedestrians. Even the air was motionless. I jumped up and down, kept my hands in my pockets, and told myself,You won’t freeze. If Franz didn’t freeze in Siberia in this coat, neither will you. You’re uncomfortable, that’s all.But Ifeltlike I could freeze. I was wearing my trousers, not a dress, but my legs were two numb, frozen sticks.
At last, a vehicle came down the road from the camp. A Jeep, with a driver and no passenger. It stopped at the barrier, and the sentry lifted it to let the Jeep through. And in the Jeep was Joe.
He was out of the car almost before it stopped moving. He didn’t say anything, just took one look at my shaking body and wrapped me up in his arms. When the shaking didn’tstop, he unbuttoned his coat and wrapped that around me, too.
“Th-thanks,” I managed to say. “S-sorry. I didn’t think it would t-take so long to f-find you.”
“The other guys were mostly at chapel,” he said. “Christmas, you know.”
