All That Shines and Whispers

by Jennifer Craven

  “Almost ready?” Gerald hollered up the stairs. “I don’t want to be late for our reservation.”

  “I’ll be right down!”

  Marlene grabbed the beaded evening bag from the corner of the vanity and slid her feet into strappy, satin shoes. She turned to Lara, poised as ever.

  “Alright, darling. You know where we’ll be if you need anything. I’m sure you’ll be fine. The children will be well behaved,” Marlene hurried toward the bedroom door, but before she could turn the knob, Lara intercepted her path with outstretched arms. Startled at first, Marlene’s body softened as Lara wrapped her in a tight embrace, lingering longer than usual.

  “Everything okay?” Marlene could count on one hand the number of times Lara had hugged her over the past year.

  “Yes,” Lara managed, her voice on the cusp of breaking. “I just wanted to say I love you. That’s all.”

  “Oh. Okay,” Marlene smiled to hide her confusion. “I love you too, my darling.” She ran her hands down her daughter’s arms until their hands met. She clasped them both and gave a little squeeze.

  What is this all about?

  “Marlene!” Gerald’s voice boomed from below once more, his impatience rising.

  “Coming, Gerald!” She swept past Lara and hurried down the stairs.

  In the living room, Felix and Lena kneeled on opposite ends of a small coffee table. Each had one of the little girls to their sides, buddying up into teams for a game of cards. The youngest, forever begging to be included, did little to prove they could keep up. Their short attention spans were hard for Felix to handle.

  “Gloria, for the love of God will you pay attention? It’s your turn!” he griped. Gloria scoffed, then took the top card off the worn stack in the center.

  On the floor nearby, Bettina helped Erich build a tower of wooden blocks. The little boy grinned when Marlene entered.

  “Wow, you look beautiful, Mother,” Miriam said, folding her cards face down on the table.

  “Thank you, darling.” Marlene brought her hands to her waist and looked down as she smoothed her skirt. The featherweight material flowed behind her with each step. “Now, we must be going. Lara is in charge. Be sure to mind her, okay?”

  “We will, mother.”

  “No funny business,” Gerald added.

  “Yes, Father.”

  He stuck his tongue out and gave a silly face, which made the children howl with laughter. They couldn’t get enough of his new playful side.

  “Miriam, it’s your turn,” Felix lamented, regretting his willingness to play the game in the first place.

  At the front door, Marlene stepped out into the cool evening air. Gerald followed, turning at the last minute to give a final word to his eldest.

  “We’ll be home by midnight,” he said. “Don’t wait up.”

  “Okay.”

  “Bye!”

  “Goodbye, father.”

  She watched her parents walk to the family’s car parked at the side of the house. Gerald opened the door for Marlene and she slid in gracefully, pulling the sweep of her dress in to gather at her feet. As the car backed out of the driveway, Marlene waved to Lara, still standing in the doorway. Lara raised a hand, leaving it up until the car was out of sight.

  Goodbye.

  Back in the den, Lara eased into her father’s favorite chair to take in the scene, sinking into the impression from Gerald’s weight. She found comfort sitting in the familiar leather grooves.

  She let the children stay up later than Marlene would have liked, but only because she was savoring every minute. Miriam and Karl finally caught on to the card game and proved to be tough competition for their veteran older siblings. Gloria, having lost interest or maybe due to Felix’s impatience, sat cross-legged with a rag doll in each hand. Their soft limbs flew wildly at the girl’s imaginative play.

  Erich toddled the length of the room, holding onto furniture, and moving from sibling to sibling, investigating each activity. Hey, what are you doing? Oh, neat! Okay, what’s going on over here? Looks like something fun is happening over there, I better go check it out! As he made it around the perimeter and back to Lara, he let out a yawn and rubbed his tired eyes.

  “Alright,” Lara said. “Let’s get you to bed, little boy. It’s past your bedtime.” She picked him up and he instinctively laid his head on her shoulder. “Say goodnight to everyone.” She took his hand and flapped it up and down in a wave.

  “Goodnight, buddy,” the children said. “See you in the morning.”

  Lara climbed the stairs and made her way to the master bedroom where Erich’s crib waited. She changed him into pajamas, digging to the bottom of his drawer to choose the warm ones with feet. The heat was on, but she knew how chilly it was outside.

  Sitting in the wooden chair next to the crib, Lara rocked to the melody that she hummed in his ear. Erich’s body became heavy, his arms lax. She looked down to see his eyes closed. A bead of sweat formed in the crease of her elbow from the heat produced between them. It trickled to the tip and fell onto her lap.

  The moment felt perfect, and she didn’t want it to end. But there were still things to do. Ever so gently, she stood and laid Erich onto the mattress.

  Wonderment held her to the spot, as she watched his rhythmic breathing. How had she created such a perfect, innocent being? Staring at her sleeping son, her mind drifted. Should she dare risk his safety? His happiness? She shook her head—there was no time for doubt. Before her thoughts got away from her, she whisked from the room, closing the door softly.

  “Okay, now it’s time for the rest of you,” Lara said as she rejoined her siblings downstairs.

  “Aw, do we have to?” Karl whined.

  “I’m afraid so. I’ve already let you stay up later than Mother instructed, and I don’t want to get in trouble when they return. Come on.”

  Karl groaned but ultimately obeyed. The other children followed Lara up the stairs to their rooms. She took turns tucking each of the younger ones into bed, giving Gloria and Miriam a kiss on their foreheads.

  “Sleep well, girls,” she said.

  “I love you, Lara. See you in the morning,” Gloria replied through a yawn.

  “I love you, too.” Lara swallowed the lump in her throat. She took one last look at her sleeping sisters and shut the door.

  In their room, Lena changed into her nightgown.

  “Aren’t you coming to bed?” she asked when Lara didn’t follow suit.

  “Yes, I just need to tidy up downstairs a bit. And then I might read for a while. You go ahead. I’ll be up shortly.”

  “Okay, goodnight.”

  “Goodnight.”

  As an unsuspecting Lena climbed into bed, Lara retraced her steps back downstairs and tiptoed into the kitchen. She paused to listen. The house was quiet. The clock on the wall read nine o’clock. She had time—but exactly how much time, she wasn’t sure.

  Let’s get started.

  Grabbing the canvas bag her mother used for groceries, Lara opened the pantry and scoured its contents. Quick, easy and light, she thought. She wrapped a block of orange cheese in muslin and placed it in the sack alongside a half loaf of bread. From the counter, she took two apples and a banana.

  Scanning the kitchen, she noticed her father’s silver flask on one of the top shelves. Lara strained her arm until she thought her shoulder might pop from the socket, and just then was able to tip the edge of the flask off the shelf and send it tumbling down into her hands. It was empty. As much as she felt she needed a bit of liquid courage, Lara determined alcohol would do nothing more than cloud her focus. She filled the flask with cold water from the tap instead.

  Now to wait.

  Knowing she had to kill time before Lena fell asleep, Lara sat at the dining room table and stared blankly at the bag next to her. Her stomach clenched and she thought for sure she’d vomit from nerves.

  Can I really do this? Yes, of course I can. It’s only right and fair. But what about my parents? I
could never hurt them like this. I can’t. This is asinine. But don’t I deserve to be happy? Yes, I’ll do it.

  Devils and angels played tricks with Lara’s mind, forcing second thoughts—ones as powerful as her assured determination. With clammy hands, she wiped dampness off her brow.

  Another glance at the clock. Nine-twenty.

  The minutes crept by at an unbearable pace and her anxiety spiked higher with each second. If she didn’t act soon, she very well might chicken out altogether. How much longer would her parents be gone? What if they cut their evening short? They could walk through the door at any moment.

  And then what? How would she explain?

  The thought of her plan being ruined was enough to force Lara from her chair. She crept up the stairs toward her room at the end of the hall. Not a peep from her siblings’ rooms as she passed their closed doors. Lara said a silent prayer of thankfulness for her family being heavy sleepers.

  She cracked open her bedroom door and peered in at Lena’s side of the room. A mound under the covers, perfectly still. Lara opened the door further. The hinge, old and rusty, made a loud creak. She froze. But Lena didn’t move.

  Lara slithered over the knotted floorboards and knelt quietly at the side of her bed. She reached under the frame to pull out a knapsack from the far corner closest to the wall. The sound of fabric sliding across the hardwood echoed through the dark room, making her wince. Finally, with the bag in hand, she slinked out of the room without a sound.

  In the hallway, Lara released a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. The upholstered bag—rectangular with a full zipper on top—felt heavy on her shoulder. She reached inside and pushed past the folds of clothes to the bottom where her fingers met the cool metal of several Swiss francs. Guilt-fueled bile rose in her throat. It was stolen money; leftover change she pocketed on all her trips to the grocers. She’d hid the coins in a jar under her bed until she knew she’d accumulated enough—at least for now.

  With food in one small bag and her clothes and money in another, she was ready. There was just one thing left to do.

  Lara opened the door to her parent’s bedroom. The deep breathing of a sleeping child met her ears before she even entered. On light feet, she crept to the crib. A long, thin blanket was slung over the rail. Its whimsical circus motif in blue and yellow represented everything lively and cheerful about childhood. Staring at it, Lara recognized the irony.

  No time to overanalyze. Focus. She’d strategically put the cover there when she’d taken Erich to bed so that she wouldn’t need to rustle through drawers and risk waking him—or anyone else.

  The blanket was smooth in her hand. She stretched it to wrap around her torso and criss-cross around her back. The ends met in the front and she tied them into a snug knot, pulling with all her strength to ensure its security. Across her chest, the fabric formed a pocket—the perfect size for a baby.

  With a deep breath, she reached down and slid her hands under Erich’s tiny body. She lifted him from the mattress and his arms fell limp to the sides. The few drops of brandy she’d placed on his tongue earlier had worked—the boy was deep in dreamland.

  Lara guided him into the fabric pouch with ease, tucking his little hands in, and positioning his head against her chest. She felt the warmth of his palm against the skin near her breast.

  I’m doing this for him, she told herself.

  Without another thought, she flung the knapsack onto her back and draped her food bag across her body, tucking the strap under the blanket carrier. She looked far from conspicuous. The weight of it all bore down on her petite frame, but Lara was fueled by the adrenaline of a hundred men twice her size.

  Stepping into the hallway once more, Lara peeked in both directions to closed doors lining the corridor. Again, she heard nothing but silence. She breathed a sigh of relief.

  One step closer.

  Common sense told her not to get ahead of herself. She quickly hurried down the stairs to the front door, and brisk air hit her face as she opened it. She looked down at Erich, still asleep, and was glad she’d thought to put him in warm pajamas.

  Tree crickets chirped a nighttime melody.

  This is it. No turning back now.

  She closed her eyes and willed her body to summon every ounce of strength.

  Just as she reached back to pull the door shut behind her, a hand emerged from the darkness of the house and grabbed her forearm. She yelped. A body moved into the light—a familiar face, still a surprise.

  “Felix!” she hissed.

  “Lara,” he spoke calmly, “don’t do this.”

  Her voice broke. “I have to. You don’t understand.” She looked at Erich as a tear slipped down her cheek. “He’s my son.”

  “Please, Lara. There has to be another way.” His eyes pleaded with her.

  “No. We have to go.”

  “But where?”

  “Home. To Austria.”

  He looked at her in shock.

  “Rubin is waiting for us,” she said. “He loves me, and we’re going to be a family.”

  “No, Lara. Please. Don’t leave. You’re making a mistake.” He hadn’t let go of her. She yanked her arm away.

  “I’m going, Felix. I can’t stay here any longer.”

  A look of helpless sadness crossed her brother’s face. Lara felt sick with guilt.

  “At least give me a head start,” she said. Then, reaching out to touch his face, she softened. “I hope you all can forgive me someday.”

  And with that, she turned and disappeared into the night.

  Thirteen

  The train coasted into the station at Altsätten right on time. It was the early hours of the morning and the sun had yet to grant the day with even a drop of light. Mosquitos swarmed the lamp posts’ blazing bulbs.

  Lara shifted in her seat. Her back began to feel the throb of the extra weight she’d been carrying. Erich slept through the hour-long train ride, so instead of taking off the makeshift carrier, she’d left him alone, wrapped against her body. It was comfortable for him, not so much for her. But that’s what mothers do, right?

  She was relieved he hadn’t been fussy. In the nights before she fled, Lara wrestled nightmares of Erich crying the whole journey. In her dreams, his wails drew the attention of authorities who questioned why a young woman and child were traveling alone in the middle of the night. She’d woken from each time drenched in sweat.

  Now, looking down at Erich’s long eyelashes and smooth skin, she was thankful for her son’s calm disposition. Sweet boy, he’d granted her mercy, at least in this.

  Lara lifted the sleeve of her coat to check her watch: two in the morning. She imagined the scene back at home. The image came freely: her mother frantic, her father furious.

  ***

  After she’d run from the house into the darkness, it took every fiber of her being not to turn back to where she knew her brother stood watching them go. She couldn’t bear to see his face, even though it was still clear in her mind: tortured with objection and understanding. Instead, she pulled the coat’s hood over her head and hurried through the streets on foot, praying the farther she got, the less shattered she’d feel.

  The train station was three miles to the east. She had an hour to get there.

  Street lanterns cast umbrellas of light in regular intervals along the main roads. Lara dodged the glow, sticking close to the walls of the buildings she passed and weaving in and out of shadows for cover. Erich, roused from sleep, whimpered occasionally—her brisk pace made his head bob up and down against her chest.

  “It’s alright, little one,” she whispered, putting a hand on his head for support. To soothe him back to sleep, she sang a familiar lullaby. An ode to the national flower of her homeland.

  Edelweiss…

  It was her father’s favorite song. They’d sung it together many times. Now, she choked on the last words.

  Erich relaxed, sucking his thumb for comfort. His eyelids drooped but he foug
ht sleep the rest of the way. As planned, they reached the train station in less than an hour, which meant they didn’t need to wait long for their line to depart.

  Another step closer.

  Lara looked around. The station was nearly empty, unsurprising for the time of night, yet the openness of it surprised her.

  Along a wide brick pillar, a woman with matted hair curled up on the ground. A ratty blanket covered her lower half, while layers of mismatched knits wrapped around her torso. From a distance, she looked like nothing more than a mass of drab, dirty textiles—until closer inspection revealed the woman’s round face peeking from a chunky scarf. She used a stack of newspaper as a pillow.

  Lara tried not to gawk as she walked past the pile of sleeping filth toward the ticket booth, but the existence of homelessness shocked her. Didn’t everyone have a house with a four-poster bed and a closet full of clothes?

  How raw was the world outside of the Weiss social circle?

  At the ticket counter, a tired-looking man leaned his head on his hand, distractedly flipping the pages of a magazine. He addressed Lara robotically without looking up.

  “Where to?”

  “Altsätten, please.” Lara’s voice was soft, with a false sense of confidence. Could the clerk detect fear? She handed over two francs and the man slid a paper ticket across the counter.

  “Thank you.”

  “Yup.”

  She took the ticket and headed to platform seven. They were headed a short way to a small town on the border of Switzerland and Austria. Once there, the second leg of their journey would begin.

  The train waited with open doors. Lara boarded at one of the middle cars. It was vacant, save for one woman who sat alone in a window seat. As Lara passed along the aisle—the bags over her shoulders bumping against every bench—the woman glanced her way. A black shawl draped over her head, hanging low on her eyes. She looked young—Lara guessed a few years older than herself. The woman acknowledged Lara with a friendly nod. Lara slid into the seat across the row. If we’re the only two traveling, we might as well sit nearby.