The Daughters of Marburg

by Terrance Williamson

  “Let’s get you to bed, sweetie.” Mrs. Baumann put her hand to Lilly’s shoulder to get her moving.

  “I can’t sleep, Mrs. Baumann.” Lilly put a gentle hand to Mrs. Baumann’s arm to stop her.

  “My love,” Mrs. Baumann spoke slowly, “we’re all praying that your father returns. And, when he does, he’ll need to rely on your strength. Your resilience may be the determining factor if he lives or dies.”

  Lilly swallowed as she looked back into Mrs. Baumann’s eyes, and it was clear that she had been through something similar before.

  “I’m not trying to scare you, but I’m trying to prepare you.” Mrs. Baumann ran her hand along Lilly’s cheek. “You’re stronger and more important than you realize. And I need you.” Mrs. Baumann’s lips trembled. “We’re in this together, all of us. Please understand that.”

  “Thank you.” Lilly nodded. “I’ll take your advice, but I can’t sleep in the guest room with Edith.”

  “You can have the couch.” Mrs. Baumann pointed. “I’m too tired to argue further. Wilhelm, be useful and find her some blankets and pillows.”

  Chapter Nine:

  Reunion

  “Waste no more time arguing what a good man should be. Be one.”

  Marcus Aurelius

  The sunlight struck Lilly as she slowly awoke in the morning in an awkward position on the couch. She had intended to stay awake, despite Mrs. Baumann’s insistence, but evidently, she had fallen asleep against her better wishes. Grudgingly, Lilly sat upright as the blood rushed to her head, and felt a surge of pain from the kink in her neck.

  The stairs creaked, and Lilly watched as a man, who she assumed was Walter, walked carefully down the stairs with a cane in one hand while his other hand was gripping the railing tightly. He was balding, yet the hair on the sides of his head was messy and nearly standing upright in places.

  “Oh good, you’re awake,” Walter spoke to Lilly, yet she noticed that he could barely turn his neck and had to peek out the corner of his eye.

  “I didn’t mean to sleep.” Lilly rubbed her eyes.

  “It’s good that you did.” Walter chuckled faintly in the way that is privileged to sweet grandparents.

  “Is anyone else awake?” Lilly asked.

  “No, just you and I so far,” he replied as he shuffled towards the kitchen. “The wife likes her sleep in the morning, and I don’t think Wilhelm has returned yet.”

  “Returned?” Lilly frowned as she stood and walked over to the kitchen as well.

  “He had some project with the Youth, but he was also quite concerned about your father.” Walter looked at her sympathetically. “Shameful thing, really.”

  “What project are they working on?” Lilly strained to keep her eyes open.

  “I’m not certain.” Walter shrugged. “He knows not to tell me, and I know not to ask.”

  “I see.” Lilly nodded.

  “You look like you could use some tea.” Walter smiled gently and his sweet demeanor greatly comforted Lilly.

  “Yes, actually.” Lilly yawned. While she preferred coffee, she wouldn’t dare be so rude as to request it instead.

  “Oh! What a big mouth you have!” Walter jested as she finished her yawn abruptly, and Lilly gave him a shocked glance.

  “Sorry,” he chuckled, “I used to say that to my grandchildren when they were little. Sometimes I forget when those comments become unsuitable.” He turned to the stove and put the kettle on. “Yep,” he grunted, “the older I get, the younger you young folk seem.”

  “It’s not a problem.” Lilly leaned against the wall.

  “Oh, sit, sit.” Walter waved for Lilly to go to the kitchen table. “You poor thing. You must be exhausted and worried sick. I’ll bring the tea when it’s ready.”

  “You’re very kind.” Lilly grinned as she sat and rested her head in her hands.

  “Well, maybe you can put a good word in for me with Mrs. Baumann then, hey?” He shook his head and began muttering something incoherent.

  “Walter, are you down there?” Mrs. Baumann shouted from upstairs.

  “Speak of the devil,” Walter grumbled as he winked at Lilly. “Yes, dear!” he shouted back.

  “Can you put the kettle on?!” Mrs. Baumann requested. “But make sure not to wake Lilly.”

  “I’ll be sure!” he shouted back.

  “Quiet, you oaf!” Mrs. Baumann huffed.

  “There’s no winning.” Walter’s shoulders sagged.

  The kettle screeched its impatient tune.

  “I’m coming, I’m coming.” Walter waddled over to the stove and struggled under the weight of the kettle as he lifted it.

  “There,” he panted as he set it down on the kitchen table. “Do you take milk in your tea?” He turned to Lilly with a pleasant smile.

  “Yes, please.” Lilly returned the smile.

  “Good, then let’s hope it hasn’t turned on us yet.” He waddled over to a counter opposite the stove and opened the lid to a jar of milk.

  “Oh, yep, that’s going to be yogurt instead.” He chuckled faintly. “Sorry, love.”

  “That’s perfectly fine.” Lilly nodded.

  “Now, do you—” Walter began when they were interrupted by the sound of some distant shouting.

  “What could that be?” Lilly peeked through the blinds on the kitchen window.

  “That’s the SS, my dear.” Walter grew incensed. “You’d best stay away from the window.”

  “What are they doing?” Lilly obeyed reluctantly, worried that this had something to do with her father.

  “You’ll hear it in a minute.” Walter stared into his tea. “They come by, every so often, in one of those armored vehicles with a loudspeaker.”

  Lilly turned her ear as she listened while the shouting grew louder and the sound of an engine roared as it approached.

  “Whoever helps a Jew will be put to death,” the loudspeaker announced as it drove by.

  “They’re not much for subtlety, are they?” Lilly muttered as she grew infuriated.

  “Well, no, they’re…oh, you’re joking.” Walter leaned back as he burst into a little laugh. “That’s good. I like that.”

  Lilly grinned as well, and she took a sip of the hot tea and studied the elderly man across from her. He seemed so kind and so endearing, and Lilly wondered how a man of his disposition found himself in the resistance.

  “Do you think my father will be back?” Lilly asked as she took another sip.

  Glancing up from his cup, Walter seemed to be thrown off by the question, and Lilly sensed that he was hesitant to answer.

  “If only we could ask the men who took him.” Walter gave a slight grin to ease the tension, and Lilly glanced away. “Truthfully, my dear, we can’t hope for much.”

  “What do you mean?” Lilly looked sharply at him.

  Walter paused for a moment as he fiddled with the cup on the table.

  “I fought in the Boxer Rebellion.” Walter ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek, and Lilly watched him closely, waiting for him to continue. “Eight nations fought against the rebels. Eight.” He held up eight fingers. “And I noticed something after we had secured our victory.”

  “What’s that?” Lilly asked quietly.

  “We’re all brutes,” Walter scoffed. “Japanese, Russian, German, British, or Indian. Despite the oceans that divided us, or the thousands of miles between countries, or the differing religions and political systems, we were all unified by our brutality. Many of the Chinese women and girls committed suicide rather than face what they would endure at our hands.”

  Lilly watched Walter intensely, wondering what he was alluding to.

  “There was a foreign journalist, George Lynch, who stated that what he witnessed he simply couldn’t write otherwise they would show ‘that this western civilization of ours is merely a veneer over savagery.’”

  “What are you telling me?” Lilly leaned her elbows on the table.

  “Men are monsters.” Walte
r glanced at her remorsefully. “We can’t expect any less.”

  “So, what’s different about you?” Lilly tilted her head.

  “Pardon?” Walter turned his ear.

  “You’re no monster, Mr. Baumann.” Lilly shook her head. “I know that you’re hiding a Jewish family over our very heads. That’s not the mark of a monster.”

  “It’s penance.” Walter glanced away.

  “I don’t think so.” Lilly shook her head. “I’ve only known you a short time, but I doubt you took part in the atrocities of which you speak.”

  “I was there”—Walter shrugged— “and that’s enough. I’m guilty by association. I could’ve stopped the barbarity, or at least tried, but I kept my mouth shut and blinded my conscience to what was really happening.”

  “This isn’t penance.” Lilly reached over and took his hand in hers. “You’re a good man, like my father, and it’s men like you who give me hope.”

  The front door suddenly swung open, and Wilhelm burst inside looking frantic.

  “What is it?!” Lilly ran over to him.

  “They’re bringing him back!” Wilhelm looked at her somberly.

  “What?! Right now?!” Lilly’s eyes filled with happy tears.

  “Yes! Now!” Wilhelm squeezed her arms. “Go get Edith!”

  “Why?” Lilly’s joy faded slightly.

  “She should know that her father is safe and sound. He’ll be back within five minutes, ten at the most.”

  “She’s the cause of all of this.” Lilly shook her head.

  “Please, Lilly,” Wilhelm took a deep breath, “for your sake, go to Edith.”

  “I won’t.” Lilly remained stubborn.

  “Young lady.” Walter waved for Lilly to come closer. “Can you do me a favor?”

  “I would, but Papa will need me.” Lilly pointed to the door.

  “I’m just a little chilled this morning, you see.” Walter continued. “Could you fetch my favorite sweater?”

  “Of course.” Lilly relented, not wanting to appear ungrateful to her host. “Is it upstairs?”

  “No, down the hallway, in the guest bedroom.” Walter pointed.

  “You mean the room where Edith is?” Lilly raised an unimpressed eyebrow, understanding his intention.

  “Is Edith in that room?” Walter glanced up at Wilhelm as he feigned ignorance.

  “Your grandson can gather it for you.” Lilly patted Wilhelm’s arm. “I should get the house ready for Papa.”

  “You wouldn’t deny an old man his sweater now, would you?” Walter pressed.

  “I know perfectly well what you’re attempting”—Lilly shook her head—“and, no, I can’t deny you.”

  Begrudgingly, Lilly walked towards Edith’s room. Stopping near the door, Lilly noticed that it was half-open. Peeking inside, she saw Edith sitting on the bed and facing the wall with slouched shoulders. The bed, Lilly noticed, was still made, and she understood that Edith had not slept. Edith was utterly defeated, and the tenderness Lilly felt towards her sister returned in a surge.

  Pushing the door open slowly as it creaked, Lilly stepped into the room, and a startled Edith spun around.

  “Sorry,” Lilly began, “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

  “I’m just…tired.” Edith returned to facing the wall.

  “Listen.” Lilly sat beside Edith as her heart melted. “You didn’t know.”

  “Doesn’t change what happened,” Edith replied quietly.

  “We can talk about this later, but Papa is on his way home. I think he could use our help.”

  “He is?!” Edith stood.

  “Yes, Wilhelm just returned and mentioned Papa is coming.”

  “Let’s go then!” Edith burst out of the room as she was followed briskly by Lilly and the two quickly threw on their jackets.

  “Did you get my sweater?” Walter asked, and Lilly offered him a confused look, wondering if that was, sincerely, his initial intentions.

  But then Walter gave a quick wink and waved for Lilly to be on her way, and she smiled at the sweet man.

  “There he is!” Edith pointed when they had left the Baumanns, and Lilly’s heart broke when she spotted her father with an armed escort heading towards them. She was thankful, at least, that it was Sergeant Wolf and not someone from the SS. Still, she was focused on the poor state of her father as his left eye was swollen and purple, and he was limping.

  “Papa!” Lilly and Edith ran over to him.

  “Stay back!” One of the guards held out his hand.

  “It’s alright, they’re his daughters.” Sergeant Wolf gestured for the guards to stand down, and they grudgingly obeyed.

  “I’ve got you!” Edith put her father’s arm around her shoulder as she assisted him.

  Yet Lilly noticed that Mr. Sommer seemed almost unaware of his surroundings or that it was his daughters helping him. It was as if he couldn’t recognize them.

  “Let’s get you home.” Lilly opened the door, and Edith ushered Mr. Sommer inside.

  “Miss Sommer?” the sergeant asked Lilly before she could enter.

  “Yes?” Lilly turned toward the officer but glanced over her shoulder to make sure Edith was handling their father alright by herself.

  “I know this may be poor timing, but can we talk?”

  “I should really see to my father.” Lilly looked at the sergeant regretfully.

  “It will only take a moment, I promise,” the sergeant pleaded, and Lilly could sense that it was urgent.

  “Alright.” Lilly nodded as she kept her eye on her father while Edith helped him up the stairs.

  “It would be best if we talked inside.” He pointed.

  “As you wish.” Lilly entered the house, curious what was so pressing.

  “We’re almost there,” Edith encouraged Mr. Sommer as they arrived near the top of the stairs.

  “Your father is a brave man, Miss Sommer. He didn’t so much as offer a word.” The sergeant watched as Mr. Sommer struggled up the stairs. “I would like to think that I would be able to resist as well if my name should be called.”

  “I’m glad you assisted him home.” Lilly noticed that her father still seemed oblivious to his surroundings.

  “Unofficially.” Wolf put a finger to his lips to warn her not to speak of it. “I had an informant keeping an eye on the prison. He notified me that your father had been released. I took it upon myself to happen to be in the area.”

  “That’s incredibly kind of you.” Lilly looked thankfully at the sergeant.

  “I may need the favor returned someday.” Wolf shook his head in bewilderment.

  “What was it you wanted to speak with me about?” Lilly asked impatiently.

  “I believe this is yours, in a way.” He reached into his satchel and pulled out what appeared to be a book wrapped in a cloth.

  “The journal?!” Lilly grabbed it immediately and held it close to her chest.

  “The major assumes it is destroyed, so keep it hidden. Also, I confirmed to the major that Ruth’s papers were legitimate.” He leaned in and whispered, “To be clear, they are forgeries, and after I showed them to the major, I disposed of them so that they can’t be reviewed further.”

  “Thank you!” Lilly reached out and squeezed his forearm.

  “Just remember, I didn’t help your father home, and you don’t have the journal.” He held up a finger.

  “So, is the plan still proceeding?” Lilly asked quietly.

  “The storm clouds are overhead, but it should be clear shortly.” The sergeant turned his head slightly, and Lilly understood that he was speaking in code.

  “So, I, then, should, um, be paying attention to the weather?” Lilly narrowed her gaze.

  “Indeed.” He nodded. “Once you have a better weather report, we can proceed.”

  “I understand. I think.” Lilly took a deep breath. She recalled that her father asked her to watch the major’s movements and provide a report so that they could choose when and where to
liquidate him.

  “You have another Society meeting tomorrow?”

  “Yes.” Lilly nodded.

  “Well, the sky will have to clear up soon. If you can get me that weather report by tomorrow evening, we can plan our move.”

  “I promise.” Lilly clutched the journal tighter to her chest.

  “Good.” The sergeant took a deep breath and exited the house, but when he was standing in the street, turned and saluted, “Heil Hitler!”

  “Heil Hitler!” Lilly replied.

  With a smile, Lilly returned inside and closed the door behind her. It was the first time she had ever shown any real meaning to the salute, and she felt free of its burden with the objective of vengeance. She would report everything she could on the major at the Society’s meeting. Then, they could rid Marburg of his atrocities.

  Where should I hide this? Lilly thought as she held the journal tightly in her arms. I know! The attic! But how will I get up there without raising suspicion?

  Suddenly, a shout arose from Mr. Sommer, and Lilly’s heart ached for the pain her father was enduring. Still, Lilly recognized that this was the perfect opportunity for her to sneak to the attic unnoticed.

  Quickly and as quietly as possible, Lilly ran up the stairs and, glancing down the hallway into Mr. Sommer’s room, saw the back of Edith as she was helping her father lay down on the bed. Bounding up the next flight of stairs, Lilly burst into the attic, which was a cluttered mess of belongings covered in white sheets, threw the diary under one of the white sheets, and then bounded back down to the second floor where she was relieved to see that Edith was still with her father.

  “What can I do to help?” Lilly asked when she came into the room.

  “Stay with him.” Edith brushed away a tear. “I’ll see if there’s any medicine in the house. If not, I’ll run out to purchase some.”

  “Edith”—Lilly reached out and grabbed her arm— “he’s going to be alright.”

  But Edith was unable to answer and simply nodded her head as the tears formed. Moved to pity, Lilly reached out and held her sister close. There was nothing else she could say, and Lilly understood that a gentle touch was what Edith craved most.