by Robert Elmer
“Aack!” She grabbed at her hair and spun around to scurry through the doorway.
“Excuse me,” Frau Becker said, “but that door was closed.”
“We knocked,” said the man with the goatee. He barged into the kitchen and inspected the Communist brochures. Hmm, that made a good first impression, but maybe not good enough. Sabine gripped her mother’s magazines behind her back and leaned against the wall. Had one of these men stopped Willi last night?
Too bad Uncle Heinz was out with his friends at the pub.
“My husband and I are loyal party members,” stated Aunt Gertrud as she returned to the room, her hair swept into a hasty bun. But they only waved her off as they yanked several books from the bookshelf and let them drop to the floor.
“If you’re looking for something — ” Sabine’s mother didn’t have any better luck talking to the men. Finally the taller man straightened up and stared straight at Sabine.
“You knew the woman down the hall, didn’t you? Finkenkrug?”
Sabine felt her mouth go dry, but she managed to nod.
“Then you knew she was planning to defect.” The statement sounded like an accusation.
“No, she didn’t,” her mother responded. “How would a child know such things?”
He dropped another pile of books to the floor, never taking his eyes off Sabine.
“Your older brother, the intern. Where is he? He’s not at the hospital.”
“What do you know about my son?” But the question only brought a frown from the Stasi interrogator.
“You tell him we will be back to speak with him. We have a few questions for him.”
“My husband can help,” offered Aunt Gertrud, but the men ignored her. They turned together to leave, as if pulled by the same leash. The tall one neatly stepped over a pile of books on his way to the door.
“You tell him,” he repeated, pausing only long enough to see Frau Becker’s white-faced nod.
And that’s when Sabine knew — more than ever — that they could not stay in this place.
10
KAPITEL ZEHN
AN UNEXPECTED FRIEND
“Do you know that guy?” Willi whispered as they walked the hospital hall from his mother’s room to Sabine’s grandmother’s. Sabine glanced to the side without moving her head.
“Oh.” She returned the smile. “That’s just Dietrich, Erich’s friend.”
“So what was the thumbs-up for?”
“I have no idea.”
As they passed the nurses’ station, a college-aged girl in a white trainee’s uniform looked up from her clipboard and winked.
“Good work, you two,” she whispered, just loud enough for them to hear as they walked by.
“Pardon me?” Sabine stopped short. The nurse’s aide cautiously checked the hallway before she reached into her pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper.
“This.” She hardly had to show it to them; they’d spent enough hours printing their flyers to recognize it. “It was a good thought. But maybe you should be a little more careful next time.”
Willi looked as stunned as Sabine felt.
“Another friend of your brother’s?” he wondered, and the aide smiled at them as if expecting the question.
“Sorry to be so mysterious,” she told them, her voice still low. “I’m Greta. There’s a group of us here at the hospital. We get together for a Bible study every week. I guess you could say we stick together.”
“So how do you know about us, and — ” Sabine wasn’t sure how to finish the question without admitting everything. But something about Greta’s friendly expression made it easy to trust her.
“Well, for one thing, you and your friend talk a lot here in the hospital. I’d be a little more careful if I were you.”
“Oh.” Sabine felt her cheeks go red, and she glared at Willi with the big mouth. He looked as if he had no idea what Greta meant. As in, Who, me?
“Don’t worry about it. Just find something else to talk about. Not everybody here at the hospital is on our side.”
And what side is that? Sabine wanted to ask.
Greta went on in her low voice. “Besides that, your brother tries to keep track of you, you know. He thinks you might get into trouble.”
“Who, me?”
Greta nodded. “Ja, and he wouldn’t want me to say anything to you, but” — her smile had disappeared — “we need to ask you about something — ”
A doctor approached them, obviously looking for something — or someone. When he motioned for the aide to follow him, Greta pinched her lips together and nodded. Right away, of course.
She pointed at them as she left. “Don’t go anywhere.” The young aide hurried after the doctor, leaving Sabine and Willi to wonder.
“What was that all about?” asked Willi. Sabine could only shrug her shoulders as they made their way to Oma’s room.
“I have no idea,” she finally said as they neared her door. “But maybe she was right. Maybe we do need to be more careful.”
“I thought we already were. Didn’t you?”
This time Sabine didn’t answer. She paused to take a breath, praying that God would keep her, once again, from screaming and fleeing this place. It wouldn’t take much to send her running.
She looked at the unscrubbed floor and the beds filled with sick and dying people. The limp sheet showed that man’s missing left leg. She tried not to see the woman with the black, sunken eyes who, day after day, stared silently at the ceiling and waited to die. Sabine tried not to look at any of them. Finally they came to Oma’s bed, last in line. But her heart sank when she looked at her grandmother. Sabine kept thinking that maybe, if she prayed a little harder, Oma would look better, not so frail.
Was this really the same Oma she had known all her life? This woman lay curled like a helpless baby, her cheeks hollow as if she hadn’t eaten in weeks. The left side of her face sagged as if it had been painted on a wet canvas and the colors had all run.
The Oma she knew had fiery eyes that grabbed you and wouldn’t let go. This woman looked from one face to the next, confused and frightened.
She didn’t even sound like Oma. This woman moved her lips and groaned, forcing out jumbled bits of words.
“Hi, Oma. Sorry I couldn’t come see you yesterday.” Sabine tried not to let her emotions show. She reached out to take her grandmother’s hand. Slowly the light returned to Oma’s eyes, but she shook her head and strained to speak.
“Nein . . . nein . . . nein . . . ” was the only word she could manage. As Sabine leaned closer to hear, her grandmother’s grip tightened.
“No-no-no what, Oma?”
Oma resorted to sign language, and it seemed to take every last bit of the old woman’s strength to point to herself.
“Es . . . tut . . . mir . . . leid . . . ,” she said, wrestling horribly with each word.
“You’re sorry?” Sabine wasn’t sure she’d heard her grandmother right. But she looked back at Willi, and he nodded. “You don’t need to be sorry for anything.”
Oma shook her head with an effort that made her moan.
Sabine thought she muttered, “Your father — ” But it might have been something else. She couldn’t tell for sure.
The older woman in the next bed suddenly began ringing her little bell, a signal for the nurse to come quickly. That only made Oma moan again. Sabine squeezed her hand to comfort her.
“What’s going on here?” a nurse in an over-starched skirt demanded as she scurried into the room. “Who are you children, and what are you doing in here?”
“They’re killing her!” screamed the woman in the next bed. “They’re Stasi agents, and they’re going to strangle her in her bed!”
Sabine rolled her eyes.
“We’re not killing anyone.” She moved closer to her grandmother, as if to shield her. “We’re just visiting with my oma.”
“Well, you’re just done visiting,” snapped the nurse. Sabine didn’t re
cognize her. “I will not have you disturbing the patients.”
“She’s not disturbing anything,” Willi said, coming to Sabine’s rescue. “Her brother works here. And she’s just — ”
The nurse whirled to glare at him. Then she brought her attention back to Sabine, roughly helping her to her feet.
“I’m sorry, young lady. Out. Now. We do not allow exceptions to visitation hours.”
But Oma would not let go of Sabine’s hand. She clung to her granddaughter as if for life. The nurse struggled to separate them, and Sabine could not help crying out.
“Bible, Sabine.” Oma’s words came clearer now. “Read . . . the . . . Bible.”
At last, Oma let go, and Sabine let the nurse propel her out of the room while she puzzled over Oma’s words. Of course she would read her Bible. Willi quietly followed, and Sabine couldn’t help looking back at her grandmother, couldn’t help wondering if she would ever see Oma again. In heaven, yes, but until then —
Oma had leaned her head back on the pillow and closed her eyes, looking much as she had when they’d first arrived. Once again, she had become that other old woman, that dying woman. Not Oma. And as the nurse escorted them toward the exit, Sabine thought she heard her oma cry: “So, so sorry. Oh, my Savior, sorry!”
11
KAPITEL ELF
TRUSTING GRETA
“I don’t understand what just happened in there.” Willi scratched his head as he stood with Sabine on the front steps of St. Ludwig’s.
First the mystery message from Erich’s friend, then the heartbreaking apology from Oma. What did the girl want to talk to them about, and what was Oma so sorry for? And finally their quick exit, thanks to that rude nurse. Sabine crossed her arms and looked at the ornate front door, wondering.
Especially about Oma.
The door flew open. “There you are!” Greta exclaimed. “I was afraid you’d already left!”
She stopped next to them and caught her breath.
“Oh, well, no, we — ” Sabine wasn’t sure how much she should tell this girl, even though she’d said she was Erich’s friend. What if she worked for the Stasi as an informant, a snitch, like half the city? She could be pretending, looking for information to get Erich in trouble. Greta seemed to read her mind and rested a hand on the girl’s shoulder.
“You don’t have to worry, Sabine. If we weren’t on your side, believe me, you’d have been rounded up long ago.”
“You said before that you wanted to ask us something?” Sabine wasn’t going to believe just anything.
“Right.” Greta nodded. “But first I need your word that you’ll keep this just between us.” The older girl looked first at Sabine, then Willi. And Sabine gave her friend a warning look, though she couldn’t say it out loud: Don’t you dare mention anything about “on your honor as a Junge Pioniere.”
He held up his hand and opened his mouth, but Sabine beat him to it.
“Fine.”
Whoops. What had she just promised?
Greta nodded seriously. “All right, then. We need to know about the underground . . . the hole you fell into.”
“Oh, you want to know about that?” Willi perked up. “I’ve been down there. It’s dark and musty, actually. And the car isn’t as nice as she made me believe at first, and — ”
“Willi!” Sabine interrupted. “She doesn’t need to know all that.”
“A car?” Greta’s eyebrows registered her surprise. “Actually, all we want to know is how you managed to get down there again. By the time we figured out that’s where you printed your flyers, the workers had already sealed up the street. You know of another way?”
Sabine bit her lip. “Why do you want to know?”
This time, Greta looked nervous, and she checked the door behind them. Did she really trust them or not?
“We’re planning to dig a tunnel under the wall,” she finally whispered. “But we need a place to start from and someplace to pile all the dirt. We want you to show us the hole because it might be the perfect place to start digging.”
“Oh!” Sabine could hardly believe Greta’s words. “I’ve heard stories about people escaping that way. I just didn’t know if they were true.”
“They’re true. And we’re going to do it too.”
“But through the sewers and such. That’s what they’re trying now, isn’t it?”
“A few have tried. But the Stasi have begun welding the manhole covers shut. Three of our friends died down there before — ”
She wiped a tear with the sleeve of her blouse.
“This isn’t a sewer, though,” Sabine said, trying not to imagine Greta’s friends in the sewer. She took a breath and explained about the underground rooms, the passageways, the way down through the bombed-out building. Greta nodded as if she were taking notes.
When Greta asked her to take them into the bunker, Sabine hesitated. Finally she said, “I guess I can. But . . . what about Erich?”
“Well — ” Greta looked away as she straightened the little white nurse’s hat pinned to her hair. “He doesn’t like getting you involved, but he’ll get over it.”
“Yes, but is he planning to — ” When Sabine closed her eyes, all she could see was the Stasi agents putting the seal on Frau Finkenkrug’s door, going from apartment to apartment. Next time, it might be their mother. “Is he planning to escape too?”
The question hung in the air, and Greta swallowed hard.
“You’ll have to ask him yourself. But look, I have to get back to work. Thanks for helping.”
And without another word, the nurse’s aide turned to go.
“Wait!” Sabine held up her hand. “Do you want me to meet you somewhere? You didn’t tell me.”
Greta paused in the doorway without turning around.
“Erich will let you know when it’s time.”
Which turned out to be sooner than Sabine expected. As in, that night just after dinner.
“I’m going for a walk.” Erich rose from the table first. As usual, Uncle Heinz was just reaching for a second helping. “May I be excused?”
Uncle Heinz lifted his eyebrows at his nephew and kept chewing as he spoke. “I’m just curious; you’re not spending time with anyone special at the hospital, are you?”
Erich stiffened, and Sabine nearly choked on her last bite.
“Would it be a problem if I were?” asked Erich.
Uncle Heinz stretched, making his chair creak and groan. “Maybe. I hear some of the staff there are, uh, under observation.”
“You mean being watched by the Stasi? The way they’ve been watching me, stopping me, asking me dumb questions all the time? Every time I go out the door, old Wolfgang reports back to them!”
“I would be more careful, if I were you,” Uncle Heinz warned. He frowned and kept eating while Erich went on — hotter than ever.
“What kind of a country is this? First it built a wall to keep its own people in. Then it expects everyone to spy on each other to keep people from disagreeing with it?”
Aunt Gertrud closed her eyes as if she felt another headache coming on.
“Erich.” Their mother turned pale. “Let’s not talk politics at the table. Please.”
Uncle Heinz tossed his fork to the table and pushed back.
“I’m just telling him that he needs to be careful who he talks to, that’s all. The Stasi are only trying to do their jobs. And I’m trying to do Erich a favor.”
“Thanks, Onkel Heinz.” Erich leaned over to dip his hands in the bowl of sudsy water in the sink. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
Case closed — for now. A few moments later, Erich brushed by Sabine in the hallway.
“Follow me in ten minutes,” he whispered.
Nine minutes later, she was standing on the street in the early summer evening, wondering what her big brother was up to. It didn’t surprise her when he stepped out from behind Fegelein’s Bäckerei.
“All right, now listen” — he leveled a finger
at her in a big-brotherly way — “I didn’t want to bring you into this, and I told them so. But we couldn’t see a better way. So all you’re going to do,” he continued, “is show us the way in, and we’ll take it from there.”
“Nein.” She kept going. “I told Mama I’m going to check up on Willi. So that’s what I’m going to do first.”
“But I told them we’d meet them in — ”
“I’m not going to lie to Mama. Besides, Willi’s in on this too.”
Erich grumbled something about how they might as well show Wolfgang a big sign announcing their plan to build an escape tunnel. She did her best to ignore him, and a half hour later, three of them approached the bombed-out apartment building.
“We’re not just all going to march right in, are we?” Willi looked around nervously. The streets were still full of people at 7:00 p.m. on a warm summer evening.
“And what about your friends?” asked Sabine.
“You just show me which part of the building.” Erich ignored their questions. “Keep walking, tell me in a low voice, and don’t point.”
Okay. She could do this.
“About in the middle, past those two walls that fell on each other, around the back side and — ”
“Good enough,” he said, interrupting her. “Stop behind that pile of broken bricks, then go in first. I’ll follow when nobody else is walking by. By the way, how’d you ever get in there from this direction without anybody seeing you?”
“I don’t know.” Sabine shrugged. “I guess I was just careful about it. And the first time, as you know, I sort of fell into it.”
Another groan from her brother. But Sabine did as he’d said, climbing carefully through the rubble until she stood once again in the room with the crumbled walls and the flowery wallpaper.
Not bad for a girl on crutches! She congratulated herself as she looked around. What had this room once been? A living room? An office? Hard to tell. With all the walls tumbled upon one another, it looked like the inside of an earthquake site.
“You’re sure this is it?” her brother asked when he joined her a couple of minutes later.
Then two others seemed to melt out of the shadows: Greta and Dietrich.
