A Flicker of Light

by Roberta Kagan

  Petra could not answer; she had no idea what she planned to do in the future. Right now she was happy for the refuge the Bruchmeiers provided. “I hope everything will go all right with the delivery. I’m a little nervous about the birth, and then besides that, I have never raised a child. I helped my mother with my brothers, but this is different, I guess. This time I’m totally responsible.”

  “It’s not so very different - you’ll see. I think it will come natural to you, and if you would let me, I would be more than happy to help.”

  “Of course, I would appreciate your help.” Petra thought that at least she would stay until the baby was born.

  “Good then, don’t worry so much it – it will be just fine, you will see,” Siegland winked and smiled.

  Petra smiled back as she felt the baby kick.

  Siegland hummed softly as she worked. A sense of comfort came over the two women. They did not need to speak. They understood each other perfectly.

  “Would you like to feel something? The baby is kicking,” Petra said.

  “Oh yes, could I?” The flour spread across the floor as Siegland wiped it quickly from her hands. Siegland reached over to Petra and put her palm carefully on the girl’s large abdomen. Movement rippled across Petra’s belly, filling the older woman with joy at the sign of a new life.

  “Have you thought about names?”

  “No, I haven’t, really. I suppose I should.”

  “There’s still time.”

  Filling the dough with vinegar and raisins, and then carefully forming the strudel, Siegland lifted the tray and put it into the oven. With an oven mitt, she removed the cookies she’d baked earlier and turned to Petra.

  “Smell that; it’s wonderful, eh?”

  “Yes.”

  “Let’s have some cookies with our tea.”

  Nodding, Petra smiled as she took the tea kettle down from the hook above the stove and filled it with water. Then, placing it on the burner, the women waited for the whistle indicating the water had come to a boil. Siegland placed two tea bags, so difficult to come by these days with the war, into the pot. “We must allow some time for it to steep, so that the tea will be good and strong.”

  The sugar cookies were baked just right and tasted like ambrosia. Although she did not mention it, Petra marveled at how Siegland and Hans had come by so many supplies during such a time of lack.

  The following day, Petra watched as Siegland made butter. With the help of a large wooden bucket with a vertical wood plunger in the center, the woman’s skilled hand churned the milk into a wonderfully delicious, spreadable concoction. “So, now that we’ve got fresh butter, we will bake some bread so that we will have fresh bread for our lunch.”

  “Yes, all right. May I help?”

  “You can, yes, of course, but I think maybe it’s not such a good idea; maybe it would put too much strain on the baby. You are not used to kneading dough, and I think maybe it would pull on your stomach.”

  “May I sit and watch you then?”

  “Oh, yes, I would love that. You can help just by being here,” Siegland’s face broke into a smile as she looked at Petra.

  Once the bread rose, it went into the oven. Within fifteen minutes the house felt warm and cozy, with appetizing scents filling the air.

  “I’d better be careful. I think I might just get fat here.”

  “Good, fat is healthy. It will be good for the baby when it comes.”

  Petra laughed, and it sounded like the tinkling of a bell. She watched as Siegland prepared the ham and sauerkraut they would have with the bread for lunch.

  “Tomorrow, I will make cheese; you ever made cheese?”

  “No, I haven’t. I’m afraid I haven’t done much of that sort of thing. I grew up in a fishing village. I know how to clean fish, but that’s about the extent of my domestic knowledge.”

  “Well, don’t you worry. Today we start the culture, and tomorrow we start the cheese. It will take several weeks till it’s ready, but once it is; well, you will see how good real homemade cheese can be.”

  “I can’t wait. I don’t know how to tell you just how much I appreciate all that you have done for me and for the baby. I don’t know how I will ever repay you.”

  “Oh, come on, we haven’t done anything so special. We love having you here.”

  “Well, thank you. I don’t know what else I can say.”

  Shyly turning back to her cooking, Siegland felt a completeness that she had longed for all of her life.

  Chapter 7

  W

  inter still loomed over the family. The highlands of Germany were covered in opaque, crystal blankets of shimmering white snow. Klaus collected the eggs, tended to the horse and milked the cow. While waiting for the return of warmer weather, most of their food remained stored in a cellar beneath floor in the barn. The previous fall, Siegland had spent weeks canning so they would be ready for winter. Before the temperatures dropped, Klaus had slaughtered and smoked a hog to provide meat. Warm blankets hung from hooks scattered about the house in various colors, examples of Siegland’s knitting skills.

  Now things had changed. Instead of making Klaus another pair of gloves to add to the ten she’d already made for him, Siegland spent her evenings knitting baby blankets and booties. Before Petra awakened one morning, Siegland spent several hours in her sewing room. An experienced seamstress who had made her own clothing since her mother had taught her at nine years old, she had no trouble assessing Petra’s size. She carefully cut from a bolt of wool that she had kept for years with plans to someday design a special dress. It was a gift from Klaus that she’d never found an occasion to use until now. The wool was a rich gray color which reflected like silver in the sunlight as it seeped through the sewing room window. Siegland hummed softly as she expertly ran the material through the needle of the machine. When Petra awakened, Siegland presented her with a pair of trousers and a heavy tunic-style shirt.

  “This is good for the winter. I will make you a sweater too. You’ve got no warm clothes. I can’t let you catch cold.”

  Petra ran to Siegland and put her arms around her. She kissed the older woman’s cheek, “Oh, you are so good to me, like a mother.”

  “I don’t do much, really. Here try it on. Make sure it will fit. After the baby is born, I will take it in for you, so you will be able to use it still. Come on. Try it on. Try it on.”

  A perfect fit, the warm clothing felt comfortable and allowed enough room for movement. “How did you ever know my size?”

  “I’m guessing it just worked out good, eh?” Siegland winked at her and laughed. Petra laughed too.

  “It’s very beautiful. I will never be able to thank you enough.” A single tear of joy and appreciation trickled from her eye.

  “No crying. Come on, we will eat now, eh?”

  Petra nodded her head as she followed Siegland to the kitchen.

  Although, Klaus had eaten much earlier and left to work in the barn, Siegland did not mind preparing a second meal for Petra and herself. In fact, she enjoyed it.

  That night as they sat by the fire, Siegland knitted, Klaus smoked his pipe and Petra read. After an hour, the women brought dessert out to the table. The satisfying fragrance of freshly-brewed coffee wafted through the room. White, doughy cookies sprinkled with sugar and an apple strudel beckoned enticingly.

  “You know how to read?” Siegland smiled, struck with wonder at Petra’s unexpected talent.

  “Oh, yes, ma’am.”

  “What kind of book is that?”

  “It’s the only one that I have with me, a book of fairy tales. I brought it when I left my parents’ home. I thought it might be nice to have for the baby when it’s born.”

  “Why did you leave?” Klaus asked. “Don’t you think it’s time that you told us?”

  “Klaus be quiet. She will tell us when she is ready. Don’t push her like that,” Siegland said as she gave Klaus a reproachful stare.

  “I’m sorry. But maybe we
should know?”

  “Yes, you should. You are like family to me now, and I trust you both, so I will tell you. I escaped from Heim Hockland the Lebensborn home. My parents did not approve of my illegitimate pregnancy. I am from Norway. My boyfriend, the baby’s father, whom I planned to marry, served as a German soldier. We met when Germany invaded Norway. My family and friends didn’t approve of him because everyone thought of the Germans as the enemy. When my family found out I was pregnant, they were very upset, so I left. That was when I signed myself into the home.”

  “How did you ever get involved with a soldier, especially one who was invading your country?” Klaus asked.

  “I know it seems strange, but when Hans introduced himself to me - the first time we spoke as he sat at a table in my father’s tavern - he said with the brightest smile I’d ever seen and a wink of his blue eyes, ‘Hello, Frauline. I am Hans. And I must tell you something. I came all the way from Germany, and in all of my travels I have not seen anything as lovely as you.’ He could be very charming,” Petra continued, “Hans and I were the same age, and I guess for a time I forgot that he was a German soldier. To me he was just the most handsome fellow I’d ever met.”

  “Yes, it can be like that sometimes.” Siegland went over to Petra and put her arm around the young girl’s shoulder.

  “After I entered Heim Hockland, Hans was moved unexpectedly from his base in Germany to the Russian front. He was supposed to be discharged in six weeks. We had planned to get married then. We thought I would be out of Heim Hockland before the baby was born. But after he died in battle, everything changed. I knew that if I stayed at the Lebensorn home without a German husband, they would take my baby. I couldn’t let them. I couldn’t. I had to run. Besides, if the baby showed any abnormities at birth, they would have killed it. I’m sorry. I couldn’t tell you the truth before. I was afraid. I am still afraid. I have so much at risk. Forgive me, please.”

  Klaus stared at Petra; his face had gone pale.

  “Please don’t turn me in,” Petra said, more to Klaus than to Siegland.

  “Child, dear, dear child - we would never do that. Petra, you should know better. Never be afraid of us. You are now of our family, eh? Klaus, what do you say?” Siegland reached over and patted her husband’s knee.

  “Yes, my darling. Of course, yes.” His head bobbed as he nodded quickly. “She is a relative who is staying with us for a while. If the Nazis should come asking questions, we will think of a good story to tell them.”

  “Oh, you are both so wonderful. I will leave when the baby is born, I promise. I will not continue to trouble you.”

  “Please stay as long as you like. We are happy to have you here. This is your home now. We want to be your other family, not to try to replace your mother and father, but to be an extra set of parents. Isn’t that right Klaus?”

  “Yes, of course it is.”

  “And about that book, maybe you can read it to us?”

  “Why not?” Petra smiled, “I would love to.”

  And so began a nightly ritual of stories that Petra read to her newfound family. As the fire warmed the room with orange flames that crackled and sputtered in the fireplace, Klaus quietly whittled toys for the baby. Siegland’s large, man-like hands worked tirelessly, clicking her knitting needles as she made blankets, booties, clothes, and hats for the child that would soon arrive. A comfortable sense of peace came over the room. Petra’s soft voice held them enthralled as she read the stories of mermaids and swans, of an emperor fooled by his own vanity, of a tiny girl the size of a thimble, and of a pair of red shoes.

  Many nights, Klaus would leave and go out without explanation, but Siegland and Petra spent all of their time together as the winter nights quietly flew by. By the time she’d finished reading the book, April had arrived, bringing with it an influx of gray days haunted by rain. Petra had grown larger and was almost ready to have the baby. Klaus told her that he knew of a neighbor, a midwife, who might be willing to take some canned goods in trade for her services. Petra was grateful. The delivery worried her, but she found she had other concerns as well. Even though she tried to ignore Klaus’ nighttime departures, she could not help but wonder where he went and what he did. The idea that he might be somehow endangering himself was foremost on her mind. One evening after Klaus had gone out, Petra and Siegland sat sipping tea.

  “Klaus goes out sometimes; do you know where?” Petra asked as she patted Daisy, who had laid her head on Petra’s lap.

  “Oh, not to worry, child, I think maybe he goes to play cards with his men friends. I never worry myself with these things. I have you, and soon we will have the baby too, eh?”

  “Yes, soon,” Petra said, and she shivered, pulling her sweater tighter. Siegland saw the look of concern on Petra’s face and thought she might be anxious about giving birth.

  “Are you afraid to have a baby? Don’t be scared. I will be there with you the whole time, and I will help you. You will see. It will be just fine.”

  Chapter 8

  S

  till, Petra could not help but wonder where Klaus went on his nighttime trips. Most times he would arrive back at the farm well into the wee hours, but once in a while he did not return until the following morning. Surely it could not be another woman. Petra could not imagine Klaus taking a lover. And since Siegland seemed unconcerned, Petra tried not to worry. Although, on the occasions when Klaus returned late the following morning, Petra could see that Siegland was nervous and uneasy.

  One day, Siegland presented Petra with a box that contained an entire wardrobe for the baby. “I made everything yellow because we don’t know if it will be a boy or a girl,” she said shyly. “I hope that is all right.”

  “I feel like I can never say it enough, but once again, I thank you and Klaus. You have been like family to me, even more than my own family. Never before has anyone treated me so kindly. I will always be indebted to you for everything.” Petra hugged Siegland and planted a kiss on her cheek.

  Then one evening as they sat by the fire enjoying cheese strudel and tea, Klaus turned to the women and smiled. “I have a surprise for you both,” he said. With a wink of his eye and a quick step, he left the room and went down to the barn. For several minutes the two looked at each other, wondering what the surprise might be. Finally, Klaus returned carrying a lovely hand-carved blond wooden cradle, “I made this for the baby.”

  Klaus had expertly carved the crib, inlaying the shapes of little ducklings walking with a mother duck, each wearing small bows around their necks. There could be no doubt this project could only be the result of long hours of tedious labor. Built as a rocker, the bed would be a great help when the little one did not want to sleep.

  “I am so touched, Klaus. It is so beautiful! Thank you! I hardly expected this.” Petra walked over and kissed the older man’s forehead. Moisture gathered in her eyes. “You are both so kind. I am so fortunate to have found you both.”

  “Oh, don’t even mention it. Please, you embarrass us,” Siegland protested.

  Nighttime tormented Petra with yearning for Hans. After she had retired to her room, she found herself thinking of him. Sometimes she allowed herself to become lost in a depressing cloud of loneliness. It was true, finding Siegland and Klaus had been a blessing, and she adored Daisy too, but even so, Petra missed her lover. Most of the time, she could push the painful thoughts away. Instead, she would think about the baby. But on one dismal night she could not. Unable to sleep, she went into the living room to sit in the rocking chair and look out the window at the farm. As she sat alone in the darkness with a heavy blanket around her shoulders, she allowed herself the indulgence of tears. Petra had fought her sorrow bravely, but in her heart she felt sure that Hans’ passing meant the end of love for her forever. Siegland heard the quiet rocking of the chair on the wooden floor and came out to see if Petra was all right.

  “What is this? You are crying?”

  “I’m sorry. Forgive me. I… Siegland, I miss Ha
ns. I thought that things would be different. I believed that we would be married with a child, and now he’s gone, dead.”

  “Oh sweet child, come here.” Taking Petra into her arms, the older woman held her, brushing the hair out of her eyes.

  “I’m so sorry to wake you up,” Petra said.

  “No need to be sorry. You are feeling so much hurt. You are missing the man you love. I understand. If I ever have to live my life without Klaus, I will feel this way too. It’s all right. It will be all right.” Still stroking Petra’s head, she helped her to sit back down in the rocker.

  “When the German army marched into our little village, people seethed with hatred for them. Everyone considered the soldiers invaders.” She sniffled. “But at the time I worked in my father’s tavern on the water, and on my way home, I saw them. Like fate, you know? Hans stood so tall, with golden hair, and he was not much older than me. He wore this dashing uniform, and he stood with the straightest posture you can imagine. As I walked by, my eyes met his, and I could not believe the color blue they were. I’d never seen eyes that color. They captivated me. Then he smiled. I forgot all about what my friends and my parents said about the Germans, and I smiled back. I didn’t think I’d ever see him again.”

  “But you did.”

  “Yes, oh yes. He found me. He asked around until he found out where I worked, and he came to find me. At first I resisted because I knew that everyone would disapprove, but he broke my resolve with his good looks and charm.”

  “You liked him right away,” Siegland said as Petra wiped her tears away with the handkerchief Siegland gave her.

  “I think that maybe I loved him right away. When I told my best friend, Astrid, she told me that I must forget about him, but I couldn’t, you know? I tried, but I couldn’t. He took me to dinner. His generosity and kindness awed me, and before I knew it, we started kissing, and then, well as you can see we were more than kissing.”