by Felice Arena
Hubert nods as he climbs out the window.
Peter jumps off the stage and runs to the window. He watches Hubert cross the courtyard, leaving the cart behind.
Once Peter folds up the curtain and wraps it in newspaper, he places it on the bottom of the cart and stacks the bundles of tied newspapers on top. The perfect hiding place, he thinks, wheeling the cart out of the courtyard and onto Gartenstrasse.
He heads in the direction of Otto’s rooftop. But he doesn’t get very far before he hears the whirl of bicycle wheels behind him. It’s Max again.
‘What were you doing in there?’ he asks. ‘What is that place?’
Peter ignores him and keeps walking. Max swears, then turns around and heads back to the abandoned building. Peter hopes that Elke doesn’t show up while he’s snooping about.
At the next corner, Peter can see a police officer giving directions to an older man. As he gets closer he realises it’s Officer Eyebrows.
‘You’ve got to be kidding,’ Peter says under his breath.
‘Ah, it’s you again, wise guy,’ the officer says stepping in front of him. ‘At least you’re working. I see you’re off to the recycling centre.’
Peter nods. He steers the cart around Officer Eyebrows.
‘Hey!’ he snaps. ‘Watch the toes!’ The officer pulls the cart back towards him and grabs a newspaper from the top of the pile. One of the ties comes loose, and the stacks shift a little to the side.
‘You’ve got quite a few here,’ he says.
Peter tries his hardest to stay calm. If the policeman digs a little deeper, he’s sure to find the fabric. It’s obviously hidden, and Peter doesn’t know how to explain it.
‘Well, I better get going,’ he says.
‘Halt!’ Officer Eyebrows snaps. ‘Why is the bottom layer of papers hanging over the cart like that? Not a very good stacking job, if you ask me.’
Peter feels his heart beating faster.
‘I really must go,’ he says as politely as he can.
‘Hold on! What’s that yellow cloth?’ the policeman says.
Peter can’t believe it. A piece of the curtain has slipped out from its newspaper wrapping. Any moment now, he’ll be caught. He frantically tries to think up a cover story.
But then Peter hears yelling coming from behind them, and it’s getting closer …
Officer Eyebrows and Peter turn to see Hubert, now on his bike, pedalling straight for them – and shouting like some sort of madman.
‘Slow down!’ Officer Eyebrows shouts at Hubert. ‘Halt! Halt!’
But Hubert doesn’t slow down. He pedals faster. And screams some more. Peter dives out of the way. His friend whizzes by and reaches up to grab Officer Eyebrows’ police hat off his head.
‘Hey!’ cries Officer Eyebrows, turning on his heels and sprinting after Hubert. ‘Come back with my hat!’
Peter can’t believe it. Hubert just saved me, he thinks, grabbing his cart and hurrying off in the opposite direction.
He saved me. And the plan too!
Rasen
SPEEDING
‘This is incredible!’ Otto says. ‘Silk! And so much of it!’
Peter and Otto unfold the lining of the stage curtain and lay it out flat on the rooftop. Otto places a couple of pot plants on the corners of the giant fabric, so it won’t be swept away by the wind.
Peter is still edgy as he tells Otto about Officer Eyebrows. But Otto laughs when he tells him about Hubert snatching the man’s hat.
‘You should have told him you were making flags for the Free German Youth,’ he says. ‘It’s almost the same colour as their flag.’
‘Do you think we have enough to make the perfect gliding wing?’ Peter asks.
‘I think we have more than enough,’ Otto says. ‘Still doesn’t mean it’s going to work, though.’
‘When do you think I should do this? How long will it take you to construct it? Would it be quicker if I help you –’
‘Hey! Slow down!’ Otto cuts in. ‘Don’t get too excited, but I think I should be able to make it in the next few hours.’ Otto gestures Peter over to the garden bed and he lifts up the canvas to reveal an A-frame. Otto has built the main section of the glider already.
It’s amazing.
‘Looks good, right?’ Otto says. ‘Took a bit of effort to attach and wire all the bamboo together. So, let’s say tomorrow morning, right at the crack of dawn – a little bit of daylight will help, but you don’t want it to be too light.’
Peter nods. His chest tightens and his stomach churns. He’s excited and nervous at the same time. He can’t believe his crazy plan is actually coming together.
After leaving the rooftop Peter walks towards the Invalidenstrasse checkpoint. Seeing Mutti, Vati and Margrit wave to me today would be perfect, he thinks, if I’m going to escape tomorrow.
Peter can’t believe how fast the Wall is going up. The narrow view he had over into the West, only a couple of days ago, is now entirely blocked. There are even more military personnel and vehicles in the area. Peter sighs. He isn’t going to see his family today.
Oh, well, by this time tomorrow I’ll be with them anyway, and we’ll be able to have a party to celebrate my escape, he thinks. Peter grins and decides to head back home. When he crosses the street he sees Elke striding at a clipped pace, her fiery red hair tied back.
What’s she up to now? he wonders as she darts down an alley parallel with the Wall.
Peter follows her, doing his best not to lose her but staying at a safe distance so she doesn’t spot him.
Elke turns left into another narrow street that heads back in the direction of the Wall. Peter peeks around the corner. It looks as if she’s heading to an unguarded section of the Wall. It’s high and old – it was clearly there long before the barrier went up.
She stands right up against the Wall and, strangely, it looks as if she’s talking into it. Elke bends down and puts her hand through what looks like a small hole in the barrier. It soon dawns on Peter that she’s talking to someone on the other side.
After about ten minutes, Elke strides back in Peter’s direction. He ducks behind a couple of parked Trabants, but at that moment Peter becomes aware of a rumbling sound echoing from way down at the other end of the street. He turns to see what it is and his jaw drops. An army tank is thundering over the cobblestones, heading directly towards the Wall – and Elke!
Oh, no! Peter thinks.
‘ELKE!’ he shouts just as the tank thunders past him. ‘Get out of the way!’
He’s lost sight of her. His view is blocked by the armoured vehicle. And the tank is accelerating.
Peter bolts after it. ‘ELKE!’ he hollers again. Has she got out of the way in time?
The tank engine roars and revs louder as it careens towards the Wall.
‘Peter!’ Elke cries as she lunges out from a recessed doorway and smacks right into him.
They embrace and turn to see the tank smashing into the Wall.
KAAAAABOOOOM!
The impact is deafening as concrete blocks shatter. The tank is now wedged in the rubble, and within a minute police sirens are howling from the surrounding streets.
The hatch on the tank flips open. A young man crawls out, scrambles over the vehicle, and leaps over into the West. Gunshots ring out. Soldiers running past Elke and Peter are firing their guns at the young man – only to have their shots met by bullets from the western side.
‘Get down!’ Peter yells, realising they could easily be caught in the crossfire. But Elke is already dragging him to safety into the doorway.
Aufstehen!
GET UP!
Peter and Elke are crouched low in the doorway. They’re petrified and decide to stay low, since the soldiers are still shouting and gunshots are still cracking across the streets.
‘Are you all right?’ gulps Elke, panting.
‘I think so,’ Peter says, breathless, his cheek pressed against the door, only centimetres away from Elke’s fa
ce. ‘Do you think he got away?’
‘I hope so.’
‘Me too.’
‘Hey! Ihr zwei – aufstehen! You two – get up! And get out of here,’ a soldier orders, standing over Elke and Peter. ‘Now!’
Peter and Elke spring to their feet and bolt. Peter is too afraid to look back to see whether the young man who drove the tank has been able to escape the bullets. He’s frightened about what he will see. Instead he runs as fast as he can with Elke at his side.
When they make it back to Peter’s neighbourhood, the two slow to a jog, then stop, gasping and holding each other up.
‘I can’t believe it,’ Elke says.
‘Me neither,’ pants Peter. ‘What an unbelievable idea. Talk about a great escape plan – steal a tank and crash through the barrier! Why didn’t I think of that?’
‘Because where would you get a tank, Dummkopf?’ says Elke, laughing. ‘They don’t exactly park them in the street and leave the keys in.’
Peter laughs. ‘True.’
Elke narrows her eyes at him. ‘Were you spying on me again?’ she asks.
‘Not really. Sort of. Okay, yes. But not intentionally, I just followed you because I was curious,’ Peter says. ‘Who were you talking to? Through the Wall?’
Elke exhales. ‘My father. Everyone’s been busy trying to wave to each other over the barrier, but we knew this wall had a hole in it. When the barbed wire was rolled out, my mother and I ran to this spot immediately – and so did my father.’
‘I wish my parents knew about that hole,’ Peter sighs. ‘Then we might have been able to talk today, which would have made all the difference.’
‘Why? What’s so special about today?’
Peter is desperate to tell Elke that today is his last day in the East. He wishes he could say a proper goodbye. But he doesn’t. He hesitates and instead musters up the courage to ask her something else.
‘Elke, my oma said that she’s going to make a treat tonight to have with dinner. She said with all the trouble around us we need something to raise our spirits. I’m guessing she’s going to make my favourite dessert. Anyway … um, you could, um, come around if you like?’
Elke doesn’t respond right away. It makes Peter regret that he asked. And his voice cracks when he adds, ‘But don’t feel you have to. I mean, you know –’
‘I would love to,’ says Elke. ‘But I have to ask my mother first.’
‘Oh, sure! Yes,’ says Peter. ‘Well, if you can, any time after seven. You know where I live, apartment five zero six. And –’ he hesitates.
Elke nods. ‘And …’
Perhaps because he knows he might never see her again, or because he hasn’t stopped thinking about dancing with her, or simply because he just feels great when he’s with her, Peter leans forward and kisses Elke on the cheek.
‘What was that for?’ she asks.
‘Just because,’ Peter says.
‘Well, that’s a good enough reason.’ Elke grins, then turns and runs off.
Peter’s heart is pounding harder than when he saw the tank bust through the Wall.
Peter and Opa sit patiently at the kitchen table. Oma opens the refrigerator, and Peter hopes she’s going to take out his favourite dessert. As she does, there’s a knock at the door. Peter opens it and is surprised to see Hubert standing there.
‘Ah, good timing,’ Oma says. ‘I asked Frau Ackermann if she would let Hubert drop by for some of this. Ta-da!’
Oma takes a tray out of the freezer compartment of the refrigerator and pops it on the table.
‘Yes!’ Peter say excitedly. ‘I knew it! My favourite – Kalter Hund cake!’
It’s been a long time since Oma has made sweets, and the cake is incredible: it’s chocolate, icing sugar, milk and eggs all mixed together, poured over biscuits and frozen. Peter’s always loved this icy treat and its funny name – cold dog cake.
Peter grabs a knife and begins to cut it.
‘Cold dog for everyone!’ he says, and then a huge wave of wistfulness washes over him. This will be the last time we’ll be eating together, he thinks.
‘Thanks for today,’ Peter whispers to Hubert as Oma goes to get plates and forks. ‘Swiping the officer’s hat was genius. Obviously he didn’t catch you.’
‘There was no way he could catch me with those eyebrows weighing him down,’ Hubert snorts. ‘You’re welcome, even if you won’t tell me your plan. That’s not going to stop me from helping you.’
Peter knows how lucky he is to have such a loyal friend. He knows he has to tell him. ‘Tonight will be my last night in the East,’ he whispers.
‘Escape?’ Hubert mouths.
Peter nods.
‘What are you two mumbling about?’ says Oma, placing the plates on the table.
‘Nothing,’ Peter says, hurriedly cutting into the cake.
They all eat in silence. The cake is too tasty to ruin with small talk.
When everyone is done eating, Hubert excuses himself and says he wants to get back home. Peter understands. It must feel strange for his friend to be enjoying himself and eating cake when he knows he’ll never see his brother again. And he can’t even imagine what it would be like if Hubert was the one escaping and he was staying behind.
‘Good luck, Peter,’ Hubert whispers, hugging him tightly. ‘I’m proud of you and I know Ralf would’ve been too! Be safe.’
Peter’s stomach churns. He can’t actually believe that he might not see his best friend again.
As he returns to the kitchen, another knock echoes through the apartment. Has Hubert come back to tell me not to go? he wonders.
Peter opens the door again, but it’s Elke – smiling from ear to ear.
Warum?
WHY?
Opa keeps winking at Peter as he introduces Elke to Oma. Peter pulls a face at him. He really wishes Opa would stop.
‘And this is my opa,’ says Peter.
‘A pleasure to meet you, sir,’ says Elke politely.
Peter shoots Opa a stern look.
‘Would you like some Kalter Hund, dear?’ says Oma, grabbing a clean plate.
Elke nods.
‘Good. Sit down and make yourself comfortable.’
After Oma serves the cake to Elke, she helps Opa up. ‘We’ll leave you two alone to chat,’ she says.
Peter stands to help.
‘We’re all right,’ Oma says, as she and Opa shuffle out of the kitchen.
‘Sorry about my opa,’ he says to Elke. ‘I’m glad that you were allowed to come.’
‘Oh, I wasn’t allowed,’ says Elke. ‘Are you kidding? What mother would let their daughter go to a boy’s house – a boy they’ve never met? No, I told her I was going to my friend Margot’s place on the first floor of our building.’
‘But she lets you play with a bow and arrow in an abandoned building,’ Peter says.
‘That’s different,’ says Elke. ‘Anyway … I think your grandparents are very sweet. You’re all sweet together. They must be relieved that you’re not in the West with your parents and sister.’
‘Huh?’ says Peter. ‘Relieved? What do you mean?’
‘Well, they’re old and they must feel safer knowing that they have you to look out for them. Who would be here to help take care of your opa? And they must miss your parents and your sister like crazy. Imagine if you were gone too.’
‘Um, yeah, I guess,’ Peter mumbles, not sure how he feels about that. He realises he hasn’t given enough thought to what his grandparents have been thinking or feeling since the Wall went up. Or what will happen after he leaves.
Peter shakes his head. But Elke presses on.
‘Whatever your plan is, I’m sure they won’t want you to go. And about that,’ she says, ‘your plan doesn’t have anything to do with Herr Weber’s pigeons, does it?’ she asks, catching Peter off guard.
‘It might. Or it might not,’ says Peter. ‘Why?’
‘Well, I’ve been thinking lately about when I first met you an
d wondering why you were feeding Herr Weber’s pigeons. I didn’t understand why Otto wouldn’t just do it himself, and then –’
‘You know Otto?’ Peter says.
‘Of course I know Otto. Everyone knows everyone in my building. So why are you feeding his father’s pigeons?’
Peter feels confused. ‘Wait, Otto lives in your building? And they’re his father’s pigeons? That can’t be right. Are you sure? Otto told me he lives in Prenzlauer Berg with his family.’
‘What? No he doesn’t!’ Elke snorts. ‘Otto lives with his father in my building. His mother died when he was a baby.’
Peter’s mind is ticking over rapidly. ‘He told me that the old man who owned the pigeons was stuck in the West … unless … it’s really his dad over there.’
‘I haven’t seen him around,’ says Elke. ‘Otto must be beside himself if he’s been separated from his father. They’re best friends. They only have each other – oh, and the pigeons. But that still doesn’t explain why Otto asked you to feed them. Or why he didn’t tell you they belong to his father. Is there something you’re doing for him in return?’
Then it dawns on Peter. It’s as if he’s just been startled out of a deep sleep. His heart is pounding against his chest.
‘What? What’s wrong?’ Elke asks.
‘Otto’s making it for himself,’ Peter cries. ‘Not for me! I’ve got to stop him … NOW!’
Sie kommen!
THEY’RE COMING!
‘Where are you two going?’ Oma calls to Peter, as he and Elke rush out into the hallway. ‘What’s the rush? Your friend just got here.’
‘I’m going to walk Elke back home, Oma,’ Peter shouts back over his shoulder.
‘Thank you for the cake,’ Elke cries, charging down the steps after Peter.
When they bound out onto the street, Peter kicks into a sprint. Elke chases after him.
‘Peter, wait up! What’s going on?’ she shouts, running as fast as she can.
The daylight is starting to fade as the sun begins to set on a windy summer’s day. They run together until Peter makes a sharp left into the street that leads to Otto’s and Elke’s building.
