“Pardon? Something she is fond of?” Aunt Martha wasn’t fond of anything. She disapproved of most everything. And everyone.
“Well, yes. Something to do.”
Oh! Now understanding, I looked at that kind, courtly man. “She enjoys going to the picture shows in Bisbee,” I said, trying not to smile. I handed him a clean wet diaper and two clothespins to hang it with but he looked at them as if he had never before seen such things.
“What’s that smell?” he asked, sniffing the diaper.
“Clorox bleach. It kills germs. Aunt Martha likes to use it for laundry. And just about anything else she can bleach.” Not that a germ could stand a chance around Martha Gordon. “Judge, have you heard any word from your nephew? Do you think that he will be coming to visit Copper Springs soon?”
The judge peered at me with twinkling blue eyes. “Still convinced you can nail ol’ Mueller, eh Louisa? Well, I admire your tenacity.” He handed me the diaper and clothespins and walked away, whistling.
The judge didn’t take my intent to find Herr Mueller seriously. No one did.
Except for Karl.
* * * *
“Dad? Did you know that we’re kike lovers?” asked William during lunch on Sunday.
Everyone stopped eating, forks suspended in mid-air. Unaware, William pounded the bottom of the ketchup bottle to get the ketchup moving. Finally, he stopped hitting the bottle and looked at Robert.
Robert was scowling. “William, please don’t use that word.”
“What word?” William asked.
“You know what word,” Robert said.
Williams tilted his head. “But what does it mean?”
Robert’s eyes darted between Elisabeth, Danny and me. “It is a rude word to describe a Jewish person.”
“Oh,” William said, sticking a knife down the ketchup bottle to get it moving. “Then what’s a Jewish person?”
Robert sighed. “A Jewish person is one born to the Hebrews. From the tribe of Judah.”
William opened his mouth to ask another question as a car backfired in the driveway. It sounded like our Chrysler.
Elisabeth ran to the kitchen door. “It’s Karl!” She opened the door and waved him in.
Karl tousled her hair as he passed by her, causing an uncontrollable grin to spread across her face. He returned the keys to Robert without volunteering how or where he had spent the last week. “I filled up the tank with gas, but there is an odd noise in the engine,” was all he said.
“Vhat kind of noise?” Danny asked. “A rattle or a pop?”
“I don’t know,” Karl answered. “Maybe both.”
Danny jumped up from the table. “Reverend, if you don’t mind, I vould like to take a look at it.”
“Mind?” Robert jumped up. “I don’t mind at all! Let’s go see.”
Robert, William and Danny ran outside to check the engine in that useless car. Even Robert admitted recently that it drove so slowly he wondered if the engine came from a sewing machine. Aunt Martha started to clear the table. I stood to help her, but she told me to go keep our guest company. She shooed Karl and me out of her kitchen as Elisabeth slipped out the door to join the boys.
Karl and I went into the parlor. Awkwardness settled over us like a blanket. I sat down and looked out the window.
“Annika—,” he started.
“Louisa,” I corrected, giving him a sharp look. I quickly looked away again. Karl had dangerous eyes—mysterious and distant. Even after all of this time, it was hard to look at them for very long without feeling swept away.
“I hear you are planning a concert to benefit Germany. I’d like to join you.”
“Where did you hear that?” I bit my lip. “Elisabeth is supposed to be playing, too, but I haven’t even talked to her about it. She doesn’t like to play.” I looked down at my hands and said, more to myself than to Karl, “She needs to do this, though. The people in this town need to hear her play the piano.”
“She is quite good, as I remember.”
Still looking out the window, I answered, “It’s…too painful for her to play.” I turned to him. “She doesn’t want to remember.” Nor did I.
“Perhaps I could convince her to play.” He tilted in his head. “It would be good for her to come to terms with her past.”
We both knew he was talking about more than piano playing.
I frowned at him. “But the concert isn’t scheduled for a few more weeks. You won’t be here that long.”
He shrugged. “I’ll stay on.”
I looked at him skeptically. “Just how long do you intend to remain in Copper Springs?”
He leveled his eyes at me. “As long as it takes to find Mueller. I made you a promise and I intend to keep it.”
I glanced into the kitchen, worried Aunt Martha could hear us. “So what exactly have you learned about Herr Mueller?” I whispered, almost combatively.
He sat down next to me and lowered his voice. “I think he is close by.”
I stood. “Yes, you already told me.”
He stood, too. “I have spent the last few days trying to track down his latest steps.”
“And have you learned anything?”
He went over to the window to watch Danny lean into the car engine. “I bought a motorcycle. Used.”
“Why?”
Patiently, as if he was talking to a child, he explained, “How else could I pursue leads on Mueller?”
“What leads, Karl?”
Just then, William burst into the parlor from the front door. “Mom! Danny found the problem. It was the carber-thing. He fixed it!”
“Carburetor,” Karl supplied, smiling at William. Then he looked straight at me. “I should go. Annika, I want to help with this concert. Anything to help our country. Anything to help Elisabeth.”
“Louisa,” I answered flatly.
Karl shook his head, as if trying to etch that name in his mind. “Forgive me.” He opened the door to leave. “I won’t make that mistake again. You can count on me.”
Could I?
William watched him go and turned to face me. “Why did he call you Annika?”
Little slips, little slips.
I looked at his earnest little face. His cobalt blue eyes missed nothing. “I must remind him of someone he once knew.”
* * * *
“Mom!” William burst into my room on Saturday morning while I was changing the baby. “Danny is going to teach me how to build a rocket with stuff in the garage. Okay?”
“What stuff? William, what stuff?”
Too late. He had already rushed back down the stairs and disappeared into the garage.
I shook my head. Why was I worried? How many things could be in our garage that could actually create a rocket?
Danny and William spent the day clanking around the garage. I kept peeking nervously through the kitchen window, but all I could see was Elisabeth, sitting on the workbench, swinging her legs back and forth, looking bored.
Later that day, Robert received an irate call from the priest at the Catholic church to come down to collect William, Danny and Elisabeth. Dog, too.
It wasn’t long before they all returned. Looking pale, Danny, William and Elisabeth quietly marched through the kitchen to head straight to their rooms, silently passing Aunt Martha and me as if on their way to walk the gang plank.
Robert, though, had a different take on the situation. “Apparently,” he explained, eyes twinkling as he filled a glass of milk from the icebox, “the boys rigged a toy wagon with some leftover fireworks they found in the garage. Danny knew they needed a wide street to set it off so he picked a spot near the Catholic church. Unfortunately, he fired it up just as a wedding had finished and people were pouring out of the church doors.”
Robert started laughing and had to put his glass on the counter to keep it from spilling. “It was just bad timing. Danny had no idea there was a wedding going on. But the bride’s mother was furious.” Still grinning, he turned to
head out the kitchen door to his office, shaking his head in wonder. “Sorry I missed it. Sounds like that toy wagon took off down the street!”
* * * *
“Milk is here, Martha!” called out the milkman early one morning, stomping his legs on the kitchen stoop. She waved him in and hurried to fill up a cup of hot coffee. “It’s cold out there this morning.”
“Don’t complain. Summer will be here soon enough,” she answered, handing him the steaming cup.
He leaned against the counter and sipped, watching the steam curl out of his coffee.
“So what’s new in Copper Springs today?” I asked him as I put the baby in the bouncy chair Barb Bunker had loaned me.
“Actually,” he started thoughtfully, “it’s what isn’t new. Nothing missing for over a week now.”
I exchanged an uneasy look with Aunt Martha. I hadn’t given a thought to the town scrounging since, well, since Danny arrived. The coincidence of the timing was hard to ignore. Elisabeth had barely left the house since Danny had arrived, preferring to follow him around like a devoted puppy.
* * * *
The concert date was right around the corner. Karl had found time—from whatever it was he was doing to track down Herr Mueller—to have a talk with Elisabeth about the concert. She readily agreed to participate, he told me, which only irked me.
This afternoon, Karl arrived to practice for the concert. He came early to supposedly help Elisabeth with her spelling words. The two of them sat at the kitchen table, going over words again and again, until she felt confident. It was the very first time Elisabeth showed interest in homework. Somehow, that thought didn’t cheer me.
As conflicted as I felt about having Karl participate in the concert, it definitely felt more professional with his involvement. We ran through the entire program, twice.
“Stay for dinner,” Elisabeth ordered Karl when we finished for the day.
“Not tonight,” I interrupted. “Robert performed two weddings today for Reverend Hubbell over in Douglas and he will be tired.”
Karl fixed a bright blue gaze on me. “Another time,” he said smoothly. He turned to Elisabeth. “When people get older, they tire more easily.”
I shot a suspicious look at him but he avoided my eyes.
Robert was exhausted when he arrived home just before dinner. He did look older tonight, I thought, annoyed with Karl for pointing that out. I thought I even noticed a feather of gray at his temples. He went upstairs to wash up as I called to the boys to come inside.
Suddenly, a thunderous explosion came from the direction of the garage.
Aunt Martha dropped the milk bottle, splattering milk and broken glass all over the kitchen. I ran outside as both Danny and William tumbled out of the garage, eyes wide but laughing. Danny’s glasses were nearly sideways on his face.
“We did it!” they shouted. “We made a rocket!” William did a little dance of joy.
Robert burst out the kitchen door. “What just happened?!”
I thought he would be angry, angry in the way Aunt Martha got when children were out of control, but Robert was delighted with the boys’ ingenuity. His eyes twinkled with possibilities as he listened to their recounting. “Tell you what,” he said. “You’ve got the right idea. All that we need to do is put fuel in a tube and a hole at the bottom of it.”
“Vhat kind of fuel?” asked Danny.
Robert grinned. “Probably something besides old powder from cherry bombs.” He turned over the remains of their flashlight-turned-rocket held together by splayed electrical tape. “I think there might be a way to improve this model. You did a great job considering you had crude equipment.”
He glanced up at the hole in the roof of the garage and then over at the kitchen, watching Aunt Martha wipe milk off the inside of the window. “But from now on, I think we’ll set off the rockets in the desert.”
* * * *
After lunch on Saturday, Karl stopped by to practice for the recital. He had chosen a duet for the two of us to perform, a piece we had played together years ago. I wasn’t comfortable with his choice but at least I was familiar with the music. At this late date, I couldn’t afford to be choosy. “First, though, I brought a book for Danny. Is he here?” he asked, when I answered the door.
Danny heard Karl’s voice and bolted downstairs.
“Look, Danny! I found a book on physics. It has a chapter on Newton’s third law,” Karl said when he saw him.
“Vhat’s dat?” asked Elisabeth, trailing behind Danny.
Danny lunged for th*e book, flipping it open to its table of contents. “For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction,” he said, pushing his glasses up on his nose.
Robert came to the door, interested by the discussion. “I was just about to help Danny and William mix up a new fuel. Want to help us?” he asked Karl.
The hopeful look on Danny and Elisabeth’s face made me snap. “Karl has some practicing to do,” I answered for him, sounding ruder than I intended. “For the concert.” The last thing I wanted was for my family to become attached to Karl Schneider. I already knew he had stolen Elisabeth’s and Danny’s heart. Even Aunt Martha seemed to be less cranky when he was around.
“She’s right,” Karl said, laughing. “We’d better get to the church. I need the practice.”
But he really didn’t. Karl was a remarkably gifted pianist. He had such sensitivity to the music, a oneness with the composer’s intention. The music was powerful, achingly beautiful.
Today, when we finished the duet, at just the right notes, at just the right moment, as if we had rehearsed it for weeks, I remained silent, looking down at the keyboard, watching our hands.
For one fleeting, dangerous moment, time reversed. It felt as if we were back in Berlin University practice rooms, before the war had started, with my father at home waiting for me. Everything was so familiar. Even Karl’s smell. His aftershave took me right back. I squeezed my eyes shut, remembering.
He gently traced my chin with his finger before resting it on my lips.
So familiar.
So wrong.
With a jolt, I opened my eyes and was back in Copper Springs.
Leaning closer, he whispered in my ear, “Do you remember our dream to travel the world and give concerts?”
“You ended that, Karl.” I scooped up the music sheets, preparing to leave.
His face dimmed with regret. “And look what I have done to you now.”
I narrowed my eyes. “What does that mean?”
“You were destined for greater things than the life of an ordinary hausfrau in a provincial town, raising somebody else’s children.”
“There’s nothing ordinary about my life,” I said, sounding peeved. I was peeved. His words cut me to the quick. “And I love my family.”
“Loving them is different than being in love.” Then he quietly added, “He is old enough to be your father.”
“Robert and I are only eight years apart, Karl.” Nearly nine, but eight sounded closer. I stood up to leave.
He grabbed my arm and turned me to face him. “I know, I know. I’m not trying…I don’t mean to interfere…” His eyes started to glisten.
I shook his hand off of my arm. “Karl, why are you really here?”
“I need to make it up to you. Somehow, I must make amends. I will find Heinrich Mueller for you and bring him to justice.”
I tilted my head curiously. Heinrich Mueller was the head of the Gestapo. He disappeared after Hitler committed suicide and had yet to be found. “Friedrich,” I corrected. “Friedrich Mueller.”
Karl shook his head as if it was a minor verbal error. “Of course, I meant Friedrich Mueller.”
“Karl, find proof that Mueller is here. Soon.” My arms crossed over my chest, determined. “Or, after the concert, you must leave Copper Springs.”
He looked as if I had slapped him. I turned to leave.
“Mom!” William burst into the church and ran up to me. “Baby!”
he shouted, gasping for air. “Crying hard!” He pulled on my hand, wanting me to hurry. “Aunt Martha’s mad!”
He ran ahead, holding open the church door for me. As I joined him, he peered at me, still panting heavily. “What’s wrong?”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“Your face looks upset.” He pulled his face with both hands, making it tight and tense, to show me what he meant. “You always look that way around Karl.”
Alarmed at his perceptivity, I tried to smooth that particular look off of my face. No doubt my face looked just the way I felt: unsettled and uncertain.
As soon as I got back to the parsonage, I rescued the baby from Aunt Martha and took her upstairs to calm her down, holding her fuzzy down head close to me. Karl’s remarks nettled me, stirring up discontent. Even back in University, he told me my dreams were too small.
What frightened me was that everything Karl said was true. Ever since Meg had been born, I felt as if I could see my life stretched out ahead of me: changing yet another diaper, facing down another day of Elisabeth’s defiant attitude, acting as a buffer for the on-going battle of territory between Aunt Martha and Dog, teaching piano lessons to those incorrigible Hobbs boys to help pay for basic bills.
I fought a sinking feeling that my days of significance were over.
I tucked the baby, now asleep, in her bassinet and caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror hanging on the closet door. I put my face right up to it. Was that really me? Dark circles under my eyes from a wakeful baby. Extra pounds from my pregnancy that I couldn’t quite get rid of. I put a hand up to my hair. I used to love my hair. Thick dark waves that cascaded down my back. It was my favorite feature. Now, I threw it into a ponytail just to keep it out of my way.
Karl was right. I had become a dull hausfrau. I lay down on my bed, fighting tears, feeling sad. Feeling guilty. I was horrified with myself for letting down my guard with Karl. I had nearly let him kiss me. What was happening to me? I almost didn’t recognize myself.
I must have drifted off, just long enough to fall deeply asleep and wake up disoriented, in a thick haze. I heard the telltale backfiring of Robert’s Chrysler as it pulled up into the driveway. The kitchen door banged open. Sounding like cavemen back from a successful hunt, Robert, William and Danny’s cheerful voices floated upstairs as they described the rocket launch to Aunt Martha. Dog barked once, then twice, to be let in the door, as Aunt Martha grumbled loudly about his dirty paws. Elisabeth sat down at the piano bench and began to play her song.
The Copper Series Page 45
