The Image Seeker

by Amanda Hughes

  Billie dropped into a chair, panting, and Max sighed deeply. “Goddamn it!” he exclaimed. “What are the odds of that happening just as we’re facing the Gestapo?”

  Elise moaned and clutched her stomach.

  “Thank God we got through it, but Max,” Billie said, pulling her gloves off, “our worries aren’t over yet.”

  He looked sharply at her and then down at Elise. “Is she?”

  “Yes.”

  Elise rolled onto her side, groaning.

  “Do you know anything about delivering a baby?” Max asked.

  “No, do you?”

  “Just what I’ve seen in the movies.”

  “Oh, well, in that case, we’ll be fine,” Billie said sarcastically.

  “I’ll get towels and water.” Max disappeared into the bathroom.

  “Just like in the movies,” Billie muttered.

  * * *

  Max was too early with the towels and water. It turned out that Elise was indeed in labor but not ready to deliver. She was up and down all day, pacing, resting, and then pacing again.

  “I am so glad we’re no longer near German soil, Max,” Billie murmured as they sat over coffee in the adjoining cabin. Elise was sleeping in the next room. Their rooms were small but nicely decorated. Plush floral upholstery was on the chairs. At last, they had found time to unpack and eat something. The remains of a chicken pot pie sat on the table. They had been out to sea for hours.

  “If only being out to sea were the answer,” Max replied, lighting a cigarette and sitting back. “If the authorities find out who she is, they may not let her off the ship.”

  “They would take her back to Germany?” Billie whispered.

  “Yes.”

  “Then we have to keep her quiet through the ordeal.”

  “That won’t be easy.”

  “What do you think of her state of mind?”

  Max shrugged. “Have you noticed? She thinks I’m Frank.”

  “Can labor cause a break with reality?” Billie asked, anxiously looking in at Elise.

  “How would I know? Maybe it’s grief—or wishful thinking. Not a true break,” Max replied.

  “I hope so.”

  He reached over and took Billie’s hand. “It has been amazing watching you throughout all this, Bassett.”

  Billie laughed. “I’ve been terrified the entire time.”

  “But it never shows. You’re a cool customer indeed.”

  “Frank?” Elise called. “Frank, help me. It hurts!”

  Max put out his cigarette and jumped up. Billie followed.

  After the contraction, Elise looked at Max. Her brown hair was wet with perspiration and plastered to her forehead. “Are we going to America, Frank?”

  “Yes, you and your baby will be safe there. But I’m Max, his brother. Remember?”

  She looked at him with glassy eyes and started babbling chemical equations.

  “That is something we can’t let anyone hear,” Billie said.

  Elise rolled onto her side, drew her legs up, and moaned again. Billie looked at her watch. “These are closer together. If this continues, it may be time.”

  When Elise dropped back, panting, Billie sponged her forehead and said, “Please, please, for the sake of your baby, for the safety of us all, you must not cry out. Can you stay quiet?”

  This time, Elise’s eyes cleared, and she nodded. Licking her lips, she said, “I’m so thirsty.”

  “Max,” Billie said. “Give her a small sip of water.”

  He put the glass to her lips, but another contraction started to build.

  “I think it’s time,” Billie observed, climbing onto the bed. “Pull down the shower curtain from the bathroom. We’ll put it under her.”

  When he returned, the contraction was over, and Elise was back to panting. “Frank,” she said, looking around the room bleary-eyed. “Frank, where are you?”

  “I’m right here,” Max said, taking her hand.

  “I’m so glad you’re here. I thought you were dead.”

  Max looked up at Billie.

  Grabbing a rolled up washcloth, he said, “I want you to bite down on this rather than cry out. Can you do that for me?”

  She nodded, and he gently slid it between her teeth.

  “How will we ever keep a baby quiet?” Max whispered.

  “One problem at a time, Max.”

  After the next contraction, Billie said, “We’re getting close, Elise. What position would you like to be in for delivery? On your back? On your side?”

  “My side,” she mumbled.

  “All right. Max, I’ll roll her to the side and you push the shower curtain under her.”

  Just as they finished, the pains flooded Elise again, and she clenched the washcloth between her teeth, muffling her screams.

  When the pain subsided, Billie raised Elise’s top leg over her shoulder.

  “For someone who has never done this, you sure seem to know what you are doing,” Max said.

  “I watched my mother when my aunt was delivering, but it was a long time ago,” Billie replied. Her hands were shaking, and her knees felt weak. “Some of it is coming back to me.”

  “Like giving your brothers haircuts?”

  “Yes, Max, exactly the same thing. Now I want you to get that basin of water and wash her bottom off. She must be clean for this.”

  Max took off his coat and rolled up his sleeves. “Bassett, I think we are about to deliver a baby.”

  Billie looked over her shoulder. “Now you’ll know what to do when we have our own.”

  Another pain swept over Elise, and this time, she growled and began to push.

  “Good girl,” Billie said. “You’re doing great.” When the contraction slowed, she coaxed, “Now breathe. That’s right.” Elise dropped back, panting.

  Max looked up from between her legs. “I see a head, Billie!”

  “Okay, that’s what we want to hear.”

  Perspiration had soaked Billie’s shirt, and she was shaking all over. Handing Elise the washcloth again, she added, “You’re doing a great job keeping quiet. It must be so difficult. Let’s put this back between your teeth. Now here we go.”

  Elise groaned loudly through the washcloth and pushed again.

  “The head is out!” Max exclaimed.

  “Good!” Billie said breathlessly. She remembered her mother telling her aunt to wait a moment before the final push. She didn’t know why, but she told Elise the same thing. “All right. Give it your all!” she ordered.

  With all her might, Elise bit the cloth and pushed.

  Nothing happened.

  She fell back, gasping for air. Billie looked at Max, and he shook his head. “Nothing yet,”

  “Again!” Billie urged. “Even harder!”

  This time, it worked. A little boy slithered out into Max’s hands. “Oh my God,” he exclaimed. “Oh my God!” He wanted to shout with joy, but instead he whispered. “It’s a boy! Great job, Elise, and he looks just fine.”

  Tears were streaming down Elise’s face, and she slumped down exhausted.

  “Cut the cord and tie it off with that string, Max,” Billie instructed.

  When he was done, she eased Elise’s leg down and looked at the baby.

  “What should I do now?” Max asked, still holding him. “He’s a mess.”

  “Dampen the towel and rub the blood off him.”

  The newborn suddenly gasped for air and started to cry. Max looked up at Billie in a panic.

  “That’s what we want, Max.”

  Elise was moaning again.

  “What’s wrong?” Max asked with alarm.

  “The placenta is coming,” Billie explained, getting in position again.

  As Elise delivered the placenta, Max wiped off the baby. When he was done, Billie put the newborn to Elise’s breast. She seemed dazed and confused. But when the child started sucking, she relaxed and closed her eyes.

  “Congratulations, Max,” Billie said. “
You have a nephew.”

  “Yes, I do. Do you think he will want to hear this story someday?”

  “Probably not.”

  Billie slid to the edge of the bed. “I need to wash up,” she said, but when she tried to stand, her knees buckled under her. In a flash, Max was by her side helping her up. “You could use a drink. We both could.”

  There was a knock on the door. They froze.

  “Yes?” Max said.

  “One of the guests heard someone moaning earlier. Is everyone all right in there?”

  Max looked at Billie and replied, “Sorry, we’re on our honeymoon. My wife will try to keep it down.”

  * * *

  The rest of the voyage was uneventful. Baby Frank was quiet most of the time, happily drowsing in his mother’s arms or taking the breast, and Elise’s health seemed good. She no longer mistook Max for his brother, and they concluded that it was merely the strain causing her confusion. After some rest and good meals, she was regaining her strength.

  Nevertheless, Billie worried. What would they do if Elise or the baby got sick? Manage the illness themselves? The ship’s infirmary was not an option. If they discovered Elise’s true identity, they would return her and the baby to Germany. Billie decided not to get ahead of herself. All she could do was hope and pray.

  Elise went out of the room seldom. But one day, she dressed in her men’s clothes and asked Billie to go to the lounge for coffee. “I need to walk around and gain back my strength,” she told her.

  “We’ll leave Frankie with Max,” Billie said. “It’ll be good for him.”

  It was mid-morning, and the lounge was busy. Some passengers were cocktailing already; others were sipping coffee. Elise thought this time of day would be safe because they could be anonymous in the crowd.

  “It’s good to be out of the cabin. It was starting to feel like prison,” she said, sipping her coffee. “Although anything is an improvement over Saxonburg.”

  “I can imagine,” Billie said.

  “That was my third hospitalization,” Elise commented. “My mind works differently from the rest of the world. In fact, I have never been one to do things the usual way, and sometimes it gets me into trouble, like now.”

  “I think where you are today shows great courage. You refused to be bullied by the Nazis. I read that you were the first woman admitted to the Chemistry Program at Heidelberg.”

  “Yes, and I was so happy, but I was also lonely. All men, no women.”

  Billie chuckled. “Sounds like my life.”

  “But I wouldn’t have it any other way. I like men, and I like the things they do. I prefer hiking over knitting, mountain climbing over baking.”

  Billie gasped. “You mountain climb?”

  “Yes, that’s how I met Frank.”

  “I didn’t know.”

  Elise nodded. “We had plans to climb the Matterhorn, but,” she dropped her eyes, “things change.”

  Billie was quiet a moment then reached into her purse and handed Elise a book. “Max shoved this in my handbag before we left. He wanted me to give it to you.”

  Elise looked at it, and her jaw dropped. “Pollyanna! You knew he called me that?”

  “Yes, that was the code word for you during the search.”

  Elise stared at Billie, her eyes filling with tears. “I didn’t know.”

  “Max bought that for Frank a few days before he died.”

  Billie smiled and watched Elise page through the book with reverence. At last, she clutched it to her chest and asked, “Can we go back now?”

  “Of course.”

  * * *

  The days passed quickly onboard the ship, and Max and Billie relished every moment. They lounged on the deck reading, ate as many rich German pastries as they could tolerate, and slept late every morning. They also kept their promise to one another; they spent hours indulging their passion.

  “Let’s sneak up after dark and do it right here,” Max suggested one afternoon as they played shuffleboard.

  Billie looked around. “Here on deck?” she whispered.

  “Yes, right under the stars.”

  She raised an eyebrow and smiled. “Okay.”

  Max pushed the shuffleboard weight and said, “It’ll have to be tonight though. Tomorrow, we get into New York.”

  Billie put her arms around his waist. “I don’t want to go back to work again.”

  “You won’t have to yet,” he replied, kissing the top of her head. “We’re getting married.”

  “Really? Right away?”

  “Unless you want a formal affair.”

  “No, let’s go on a big honeymoon, though.”

  “Ever the traveler,” Max said and handed a cue to her. “Now go. It’s your turn.”

  Max and Billie made their last night onboard a night to remember, stealing out on deck at midnight to make love several times under the stars.

  They awoke the next morning on a cabana chair, tired and achy but elated. They were happy to be approaching New York and couldn’t wait to start their new life together. They had Elise dress in men’s clothing once more, and Billie carried the baby to shore. Nobody looked twice at them. The crew suspected nothing and asked no questions, neither did the officials who checked their documents.

  When they stepped into the Port of New York, they breathed a sigh of relief.

  “Home sweet, home!” Max cried as they walked through the terminal.

  “Welcome to America,” Billie said to Elise, “your new home.”

  “The first thing we do is take you and the baby in for a check-up,” Max said. “And then we pay a visit to Bubbe. She’ll want to meet her great-grandson.”

  After thumbing through the phone book, they found a doctor willing to examine mother and child immediately. In less than an hour, they were done. He had declared Elise somewhat malnourished, but nothing a few weeks of healthy eating wouldn’t cure, and baby Frank, although underweight, was in excellent health too.

  “We’re quite a team,” Max said as they walked out of the doctor’s office.

  “Thank you for being my new family,” Elise said.

  They purchased clothing and shoes for Elise and outfits for the baby at Murphy’s Department Store and then took a taxi to Max’s grandmother’s house on the Lower East Side.

  “I hate weather like this,” Billie said as they stepped out of the cab. The sun was setting, and a heavy fog had dropped over the city. It made the streets look ominous. Max paid the driver as Billie and Elise started up the steps of the tenement. Elise, who was still wearing Max’s shoes, stumbled and fell forward, just barely hanging onto the baby. As Billie bent down to help, they heard Max shout, “Look out!”

  A 1935 Ford roared up to the curb and fired shots. The noise was deafening. Bullets hit the taxi and peppered the door of the apartment building, shattering glass in several windows. The automobile sped off.

  The fall saved the women, but Max was hit. He staggered toward the steps.

  “Max!” Billie screamed, running down to him. “Oh, my God. Let me see.”

  “Get inside,” he said, breathlessly.

  Max leaned heavily on Billie as they climbed the stairs.

  “What’s happened?” Bubbe cried when she opened the door. “I heard shots.”

  “Max was hit,” Billie said.

  “Oh. meyn Got!”

  They took him to a couch, where he slumped, panting.

  “Hello, Bubbe,” he said with a weak smile. His skin was pale and clammy, and blood was soaking his suit coat.

  “Where are you shot?” she asked.

  “My arm and I think my shoulder,” he replied, panting. “Luckily, the cab shielded me.”

  With the calm of someone who has seen trouble before, Bubbe burst into action, fetching clean bandages and tape while Billie put pressure on the wounds. Elise went to call an ambulance.

  “Stop!” Max exclaimed. “No ambulance, no hospital.”

  “Max, you’ve got to have a doctor,”
Billie argued.

  “Listen to me. We must go into hiding. Call Canfield, Billie. Tell him the whole story, especially about Zweig’s involvement. He’ll send over a doctor and then put me in hiding somewhere rather than a hospital. He does this sort of thing all the time when his sources are in danger.”

  Billie grimaced and said, “All right.” She ran to the phone.

  Elise and Bubbe examined Max’s wounds. They removed his shirt. He had indeed been shot in the shoulder and in two places on his arm. He was bleeding profusely.

  “Could have been worse,” Bubbe said as they bandaged him. “He is alive.” They could hear Billie in the other room telling Canfield everything.

  “Elise, listen to me,” Max said, panting. “You must leave New York City. Take the next train out of here. Go anywhere, but you cannot stay in the city.”

  “Who’s behind this, Max, the Nazis?”

  “No, it’s Zweig. I was afraid it would happen. The American division is after us. They will do anything to stifle our story about their atrocities in Germany. They probably have people watching my apartment and Billie’s flat.”

  “But how do the people from Zweig even know what you look like?”

  Wincing as Bubbe bound his arm, he replied, “They don’t, but there are plenty in this neighborhood who do. So, when Zweig found out where Bubbe lives, they hired local thugs to do the hit for them.”

  Billie hung up the phone and returned to the living room. “Canfield is on the way with a doctor.”

  “I go make tea,” Bubbe said, waddling off to the kitchen.

  Max watched her. “She learned a long time ago not to ask questions.” Panting, he turned to Billie and instructed, “Now listen to me. I want you to take Elise and the baby and go.”

  Billie shook her head. “I will not leave you.”

  “Leave New York. It is not safe here.”

  “Absolutely not.”

  Quick as lightning, he grabbed her wrist. “Goddamn it, Bassett, don’t argue this time!”

  Her eyes grew large. “Max, you’re hurting me,” she said. When she tried to pull away, she found his grip like iron.