by Dani Hoots
“Let me at least wash your wounds so they can heal properly. Have you had any dinner? You look like you need some food, is Herr Schmidt treating you well?”
I watched as she frantically looked for a clean rag. I sighed. “I’m fine, mother. Herr Schmidt is nothing but kind to me.”
She didn’t say a word as she soaked the cloth and started to wipe the blood off of my skin.
“What is it?” I asked.
She shrugged. “It’s just that, right before your father died, he said some things about Herr Schmidt that makes me worry. I didn’t want you to go with him, but I couldn’t let you just stay here and have no future... but I still worry.”
“We’ve been over this, mother. Herr Schmidt is the most honest human being I know. I don’t want to argue about this again.”
Mother frowned. “But your father—”
“Father was delusional and drunk. Herr Schmidt has been nothing but kind to me. How could you believe him? Has Herr Schmidt ever done anything to make you worry?” I defended.
“No, but there just seems to be strange things surrounding that man. He survived in the war with your father, even longer, but he just appears so... young, compared to others his age.”
“How does that make him evil? Just because he keeps up his appearance?” I asked, although I had wondered about that exact same thing from time-to-time. How could he keep up such a young face when he was much older? I had asked him once, and he said it was because he tried to always look on the bright side of things, keeping a stress-free life. I found that almost impossible to believe, especially after everything that was said to have happened during the war. There were so many men who came back, emotionally unstable, some even killing themselves.
“I don’t know, I just worry about you. You promise me everything is fine?” she looked at me with those deer-like eyes. It was always hard to look at her directly when she was worried, which was more often than not. At least there was no longer a boyfriend in the mix, standing over her, acting like her worry was worthless. Although I didn’t like my mother to worry, I knew it was part of her and I would never talk down to her about it. They were the few men I sent away, with bruises and a broken bone or two. Except the border guard, I couldn’t do anything until he left on his own.
“I promise,” I pulled out all the cash I had gotten for the past few weeks. “Look, you and Gretchen should be good for a while. And I am fine, I love working for Herr Schmidt. He feeds me, and makes sure I have everything I need so that I can give this money to you. Don’t worry about me, okay, just worry about Gretchen and make sure she is doing fine.”
She nodded. “Okay, I will do that.”
“Now,” I whispered. “Tell me what’s going on. What’s wrong?”
She looked at me with surprised eyes, as if she didn’t think I would figure it out. “I... I... The doctor said...”
Tears began to form in her eyes and I quickly wrapped my arms around. “Shh, shh, It’s going to be okay, we will figure this out.”
“What about Gretchen? I just don’t know what to do.” she cried.
“I will work hard and get money for the medication. There is medication, right?”
She nodded her head slowly, but didn’t say a word. I kept holding her tight.
“I promise I will be back soon. I’m sorry it has to be this way, but I promise you, that someday this wall will be down and we will be a family again. Okay? So don’t worry about me.”
I could feel her tears as she cried silently onto me. I kept her there, holding her tight, knowing I would do anything to keep her and my sister safe.
I got back over the wall with no trouble, other than a lot of pain. I didn’t want to think of what Herr Schmidt would say when I came waltzing in covered in both bruises and cuts. My jaw was swollen and there was a bruise on my head, along with a few cuts, but those were the only ones that I couldn’t cover up with clothes. It still was too much, I knew, but hopefully they would heal quickly. There weren’t any appointments for the next couple of days, so everything should be okay.
Kicking at the rocks as I walked, I thought back to my mother. How could she have tried to keep her illness a secret from me? She knew I worried about her as much as she worried about me—I mean, let’s be honest about where I get that quality from. It certainly wasn’t my father. But nevertheless, she was sicker than she was even letting on. If she passed away, I didn’t know what I would do.
And poor Gretchen.
I wondered if I could talk Herr Schmidt in letting Gretchen come here, if that was even possible now. Laws were getting stricter by the moment, and I knew I wouldn’t be able to sneak her across. It was too much to worry about, and if we did get caught, I don’t think I would ever forgive myself if something bad happened to her.
The right thing would probably to go home for a bit, see if my mother needed any help and to really find out what was going on. That meant, though, no money coming in for any of us. I sighed. I still needed to work, but I also needed to make sure she was alright. I probably would just have to jump the wall more and see her, though it was quite dangerous to do that so often. I would probably get caught if I increased my frequency. But it would be worth it.
When I arrived to Herr Schmidt’s shop, the sun was just beginning to rise. I hurried, not wanting to be late, as I told him that I would always be back before the sun rose. It was a bit hard to step on my right leg, as I think my ankle was sprained.
As quietly as I could, I opened the door to the shop and stepped inside. I had hoped I had gotten back before Herr Schmidt woke up, that way I could clean up a bit more. Unfortunately, he had been already waiting for me.
“Oh, Ade, are you alright?” Herr Schmidt got up from the wooden bench that was in the shop. He looked genuinely worried and it made me feel a bit guilty. I didn’t want him to worry about me like this, but nor did I want my mother to worry. I felt torn.
“I’m fine. Sorry, I got in fight. I’m okay, though. Everything is okay. I will go clean myself up real quick.”
“I left some clothes for you on the bed. Wash up and I will go get you some medicine for those wounds. It will heal you up in no time.”
“There’s no need, I will be fine in a couple of days, and I can just go to—”
“No. You aren’t going to that disrespectful doctor that you know. Don’t think I don’t know about the little jobs he had you do.”
I stuttered, thinking that he didn’t know about it all. “I just had to deliver—”
“Ade, no. I insist that I will go get you medicine that will work. I can’t have you scaring our customers. I know a real good place that has a recipe that clears any cuts and bruises faster than you can imagine. Meanwhile, go wash up,” Herr Schmidt grabbed his jacket.
I watched as he headed out in the city, where it had just become dawn. I wondered how long he had been up. “I’m really sorry, sir. It was all my fault. You don’t have to go out of your way.”
“Nonsense. Now get going before you stain my floor.”
I hurried off towards the bathroom and started running the shower. I thought about my mother some more, wishing that she could be here and I could take care of her. Life wasn’t far, this entire situation wasn’t fair. But considering where I was from, I knew I was lucky. When I finished rinsing off, I wrapped my wounds, and put on the clothes Herr Schmidt left for me. He came back with the medicine.
“Here,” he handed me a vial. “Drink this and you should be fine in no time.”
I tried to see what the liquid looked like in the dark vial, but couldn’t make out what it was. I thought about asking what it was before taking it, but I didn’t want to appear like I distrusted Herr Schmidt. I quickly opened it and downed it all as quickly as I could.
It tasted terrible.
“Gott im Himmel, what was that?” I gagged. I didn’t ever want to taste it again, it was horrible. I tried my hardest not to throw it back up.
Herr Schmidt grinned widely, as if he found my d
isguise amusing. “Old family recipe. Or at least, some family’s recipe. I know someone who makes good medicines.”
“Well,” I coughed. “If it works as much as it tastes disgusting, it will be a miracle cure.”
Herr Schmidt laughed and slapped my back. “Be a man and get over it. Not everything can taste as sweet as pie. Now, get ready for work. We need to go pick up some fabric. I will leave the rest of these vials here for when you need them.”
“Do I have to take them every hour or something?” I worried. I didn’t want to take another ever, ever again.
He shook his head. “No, just for whenever you feel like you need another one, just take it. You don’t have to if you don’t want to. One should be enough to heal your wounds.”
“Then I don’t believe I will need anymore.”
He laughed. “Suit yourself, but I will leave them here just in case. Now hurry, I don’t want to get to the warehouse to find that all the good material is gone.”
I nodded. “Yes, sir.”
We went to the factory and picked out some fabric. Well, Herr Schmidt picked out the fabric, while I carried it. Although I had been beaten the night before, I felt as if I could do anything. A lot of the pain had gone away and I didn’t feel as stiff as I should have. Whatever Herr Schmidt gave me, it was working wonders.
We got back to the shop at about noon and I made us both a meal real quick. On top of everything else, Herr Schmidt had also taught me how to cook. He said it was important that a man learned how to cook and not rely on anyone else, especially when it comes to something as important as food. I learned almost everything from him, between being his apprentice and him visiting my family before the wall was up. I don’t know how he got passed the border patrol, but he never seemed to have a problem. When he was younger, I always asked him why he would come to our side so often. He would always laugh and say that he could never leave me behind, that I was his favorite person. It was probably a lie, and it was most likely so he could visit his old war buddy. Maybe he simple took pity on me, I’m not sure. Whatever the case, I never figured how he was able to travel so often.
As I cooked a couple of eggs over the skillet, I pondered on what my mother had said last night. Why she was so worried about Herr Schmidt still, after all this time? He had been around our home many times since I could remember, and she always seemed to trust him. But just because of something my delusional father said before he left us made her not trust him? That was over four years ago, yet she still let him decide what and what not to think?
I knew I shouldn’t think such things about her, especially since she was so sick. I knew I should ask Herr Schmidt what to do, how to handle everything. He was the cleverest man I knew, and I believed he would be able to help me, yet I found myself afraid to ask. I was afraid that he would demand I stay here, and I would have to go behind his back to go home, or he would want me to go home and stay with my family for a while, which is also something I didn’t want to do. I didn’t want to leave this place, I didn’t want to be on the East side having to worry about anything. I felt safe and content here. It wasn’t a situation I wanted to be in.
“Is something wrong, Ade?”
I almost spilt the boiling water as I turned to find Herr Schmidt standing behind me. I shook my head. “No, no I am fine.”
“Hm. You look a little preoccupied. What did I say about living in the moment? Being mindful of your surroundings?”
“To do that instead of daydream?” I said.
“Precisely.”
“Sorry, sir, it’s just that... My mother, she isn’t doing too well. I don’t know what to do if anything happened,” I decided it would be best to tell him the truth. He was so good at figuring out when something was bothering me, I knew I couldn’t keep it from him for that long.
Herr Schmidt took a seat. “Go on.”
I shrugged. “She just looked so ill when I arrived. She wouldn’t tell me the details but she seemed very frightened. I just.... I just don’t know what to do. I want to be with her but at the same time I need to make money so she and Gretchen will be fine.”
He studied me for a moment and scratched his chin. “I think you shouldn’t worry about it. She will probably be fine, your mother can take care of herself when it comes to something like this. Don’t worry about it, just check back in a few weeks and you will find that everything will be okay.”
“But what if it isn’t?” I said kind of surprised that he would dismiss this so easily. He didn’t see her, he didn’t see how much pain she was in. “And what about Gretchen? If I’m not there and something happens to mother, what will happen to her?”
Herr Schmidt stood up quickly. “I’m not discussing this any further. Just don’t worry about it, everything will be fine. We need to get back to working right away.”
I wanted to ask him why he was so keen on not worrying about it, but I decided not to. He knew better than I did and I knew I should trust his opinion on the matter, but I couldn’t help but worry about my mother. I planned on visiting her in a couple days, even though Herr Schmidt said to wait a few weeks. I couldn’t wait that long, especially if she needed money for a doctor.
I finished working on lunch for the both of us and began working on Herr Mueller’s suit straight away. Not many would enjoy learning how to size and make suits, but I had actually found it to be quite the task. It wasn’t easy, that was for sure. These suits had to be perfect, especially for the price they were going for. I knew I was lucky to land such a job as this, with the help of Herr Schmidt, and I would forever be thankful that he brought me out of my home to both live and work here. I never argued with anything that was asked of me, never complained about where I slept or what there was to eat. I knew it could have always been much worse.
“Sir, I have always wondered, how did you become a tailor?” I asked as I started designing the layout of the suit. “It just seems to be a strange career to find one’s self in.”
He laughed at my question. “It is, I agree. My father was actually a tailor years ago, before the war, and I used to work with him. Unfortunately, he died in one of the bombings, and I decided to join the military after that.”
“And then that’s where you met my father?” I asked, though I already knew the answer. I just liked to hear more about Herr Schmidt’s past, even though it had to involve my father. I couldn’t care less about his past.
“Yes it is. We were in the same unit. But let’s not talk about it, there are far too many memories I still want to repress.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bring that up—”
“It’s fine, Ade. Now please be quiet while I figure this out. I don’t want to get distracted and mess up Herr Mueller’s suit. Who knows what wrath that man holds inside himself?”
I laughed but didn’t say anything as Herr Schmidt went back to work. Herr Schmidt was right; though, Herr Mueller would throw a fit if he didn’t get his suit to be exactly how he wanted it. Once we accidentally used the wrong buttons, which was easy to fix, but he had acted like we ruined the entire thing. He demanded a new suit. In reality, the new suit was just the same suit with the correct buttons on it that we “rushed ordered” for him in a week. I’m not sure if he ever realized it.
After about eight hours of work, the suit was designed and ready to be made, which we wouldn’t do until the next day or so. Herr Schmidt liked letting designs sit for a while before he comes back later to them just to check and make sure they are perfect. If he comes back and thinks they are still good, I can start cutting the fabric. If not, he would scrap the idea and start over.
Usually, he scrapped it and started over with a new design that was even more spectacular than the last. That is, spectacular for a suit design. Not many would see the genius this man held, but I did, and I aspired to be like him one day.
I lay on my bed and dreamed of the day I would have my own shop and could bring my family over the border to live with me. I knew I should have been saving for
that day, but it took all my money to keep my mother and sister living in the small apartment they were at, along with getting them enough money for food and clothes. My mother had been working part-time, but due to how disheveled she appeared, I really doubt she was still working. Things were bad on the other side and I just prayed for a miracle in which I didn’t have to worry about their well-being anymore.
Glancing down at my arms and hands, I found that many of the cuts and bruises had already begun to heal. It was outstanding, to say the least. I had never heard of a medicine that could heal one’s body so fast. I glanced over at the vials. Herr Schmidt said I could take as many as I needed to feel better, and I did feel great after taking it. It tasted disgusting, of course, but at the same time, it was worth it.
I grabbed another vial and opened it. “Here’s to something,” I whispered and chugged the medicine down. I gagged a bit, I swore that the taste was worse than last time. It tasted like.... It tasted like...
Blood.
Now that I thought about it, it sort of tasted like the blood that spilled when I bit my lip or tongue, that same metallic essence, but it was slightly different, nastier and almost spoiled or rotten. I took a look at the empty vial. There were still some remnants inside, so I dumped it on my hand and slowly a drop leaked out onto my skin.
It was reddish brown.
Could it be blood? What kind of medicine was this? I quickly grabbed another bottle and examined it closely. It was just like the others.
I thought about going and retrieving Herr Schmidt to see if he knew what it was made out of. It was probably just some type of plant that was red and the juice was thick, making it look like blood. I know sometimes the juice from cherries could look like blood if mixed the right way.
Except cherries didn’t taste anything like blood.
