by Renee Duke
“I suppose it might make a good story,” Nicko mother agreed. “Oh, look. Othi’s bringing Bruna to visit with you.”
Turning, the children saw a smiling Onkel Othi coming toward them. The short, portly, man was accompanied by a large black bear that ambled along beside him.
“Ein Bär!” Frieda gasped. “A bear. A bear with no muzzle. Or even a rope to restrain it.” She looked a little worried as she and the other children got to their feet.
“Restraint is not necessary,” said Nicko. “Bruna is very gentle. Onkel Othi has had her since she was a cub. He bought her from a man who did not treat her well. This Onkel Othi could not stand.”
Though Dane did not approve of people keeping wild creatures as pets, he felt himself warming to Onkel Othi, who was, he supposed, the uncle who had taught Nicko how to care for animals.
“What about at night?” inquired Frieda. “Is she not tied up then?”
“At night she is in a caravan,” said Rosa. “The caravan Onkel Othi has for his friends.”
“Are the rest of Onkel Othi’s friends animals, too?” Dane asked.
“Animals and birds,” said Nicko. “Among them an injured hare and an injured hedgehog that he will set free once they are better. He also has some once-injured creatures that will never be strong enough to be set free, and others that don’t want to be set free. He has an owl like that. And a wolf. There are no wolves in Germany now, but several years ago he was in Poland and found one that had been shot. He got the bullet out and saved him, but even though he took Fritzi all the way back to Poland to free him, Fritzi would not leave him. My father shakes his head at so many animals.”
“Does Bruna dance?” Gustav asked. “I have heard of Gypsy bears that dance, but have not seen one do so.”
Nicko’s mother told him that was because, in Germany, it was considered cruel to teach bears to dance. There were laws against it. “There aren’t any laws against them teaching themselves, though. A few years back, Bruna saw Ava and Anya dancing and got up on her hind legs and joined them. Now she just has to hear music and she’s off. But only for us. Othi wouldn’t have her do it in public. His animals are pets. Friends. Not a source of income. He’s a carpenter by trade, but he does accept money from people wanting to see his menagerie. Helps with the food and care.”
“I’ll show you his menagerie later, said Nicko. “No charge.
He then said something to Onkel Othi, who nodded and took a harmonica from his shirt pocket. At the first note, Bruna rose up on her hind legs and began to sway about. When the song ended, the animal dropped back down on all fours and looked at her owner expectantly. While dancing might have originally been her own idea, she had obviously come to know that Onkel Othi rewarded repeat performances.
Reaching into a trouser pocket, Onkel Othi pulled out an apple and set it down before the patiently waiting bear. But she didn’t touch it until he snapped his fingers.
“Tell your uncle I play the harmonica, too,” Dane said to Nicko as they watched Bruna chomp up her treat.
Paige gave a short, scornful laugh. “Tell your uncle he has a harmonica. Most people would dispute his claim of being able to play it.”
“Fortunately, he doesn’t have it with him today,” Jack added.
“I’ll bring it next time,” said Dane, glaring at them.
“The next time will not be for a long time,” said Rosa, regarding him solemnly. “Nicko will be older. But you will not.”
Dane found both her words, and her searching look, disquieting.
So did Paige and Jack.
“You could be right, Rosa,” said Jack. “After we go…home, it might be quite a while before we can come back to Germany.”
“If Rosa says it will be a long time, it will be a long time,” said Nicko. “Rosa knows such things.”
The proverbial Gypsy fortune teller?” Paige inquired.
“No. Fortune telling is not real. Just something Gypsy women do in exchange for a few coins. But only for gadje. Gypsies do not seek to know their fortunes. Those who practice that trade simply tell gadje what they think they wish to hear or might be persuaded to believe. They have no actual knowledge or insight.” He frowned. “With Rosa, it is different. On several occasions, what she has said might, or might not, happen has turned out to be so. She also seems able to understand things that others do not. And always she has known about people, whether they are good or bad.”
“Is that why, when Rosa accepted us, everyone here did?”
“Yes. And why, after Neuschwanstein, my father let me visit the Reitzels at their home. He does not always take notice of what Rosa says as regards future happenings, but does have respect for her knowledge of people. And she told him it would be all right for me to be friends with the Reitzels.”
“Perhaps because she had not met Marta,” said Gustav.
“Marta is only one,” said Rosa. “The rest of your family it is good for Nicko to know.” She then looked directly at Paige, Dane, and Jack. “And such as you are good for many to know.”
“Will you come home with us now, Nicko?” Frieda asked. “Hani would be most happy to see you. It would make up to her for not being able to go with us earlier. Perhaps Rosa could come also, as she is close to Hani in age.”
Nicko and Rosa looked at their mother, who nodded. Pleased, they set off after what Dane considered far too short a visit to Onkel Othi’s menagerie.
Chapter Seven
Hani was pleased to see Nicko and very pleased to see her ‘Englisch Freunde’. So were her parents, even though they were already entertaining another visitor, a bearded priest in his mid-forties.
“These are the children we told you of, Father Gervas,” Frau Reitzel said to him. “It makes us very happy to finally meet Hani’s English friends.” She turned to Paige and the boys. “My parents live in München now, but my father spent several years in England. He knows your country well.”
“Jack’s country,” said Paige. “Dane and I are from Canada.”
“Oh? Well, Canada is also a very nice country, I believe. My brother Erhard lives next to it, in America. Hardy—which is what we call him—and Father Gervas studied together at a seminary in New York. But Hardy did not finish his studies. He decided he did not want to be a priest. He instead became a psychiatrist. He now lives in Ohio with his American wife and their little girl, who is a few months older than Hani.”
“Just as Hani is a few months older than me,” said Rosa. “I am Nicko’s sister, Rosa.”
She introduced herself again in German for Hani’s benefit.
Having heard much about her from Nicko, Hani beamed. “Gehen Sie zur Schule, Rosa?” she asked.
Rosa made a reply, and then translated for the others. “She asked me if I go to school. I said no, not often. The teachers do not like us, and the other children are…not nice. But it is not necessary for us to go to school. Our mother knows how to read and write and is able to give us lessons.”
“Poor Hani wants to go to school,” said Frau Reitzel. “But, of course, this is not allowed.”
“Aren’t there special schools for…well, for kids who can’t go to regular schools?” Paige asked.
Frau Reitzel shook her head sadly.
“But there is, in München, a teacher who would be willing to teach just her when school is finished for the day,” said Father Gervas. “I have spoken to you of this before, Berta. As have your parents.”
“Ja, I know. They want us to move so Hani can have this.”
“She should have it, Mutti,” said Gustav. “Hani is not stupid. She has learned many things and could perhaps learn school things also.”
“She could,” said Paige. “There’s a girl my age back home who’s like Hani. Her name’s Sharla. She’s in several of my classes and manages really well.”
“She goes to school with you?” Frau Reitzel sounded amazed, a reminder that, in this time period, mentally disabled children would not have attended school in Canada either.
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“It’s, uh…experimental. But it seems to be working. Besides doing okay in school she’s into sports, writes poetry, and does all kinds of things.”
“Ja? Then we must indeed consider this teacher for Hani,” said Herr Reitzel.
Just then, a plaintive bleat was heard. Hani ran to the door, calling for the other children to come.
“Hani’s pet lamb, Pascha,” said Frieda. “She knows she has company and wishes to be shown off to you. She was supposed to be our Easter dinner, but Hani liked her too much. She is very spoiled.”
Pascha was also very friendly. Father Gervas had a camera with him, and after all the children had played with the lamb for a while, he took a photo of Hani and Rosa with their arms around her. Frau Reitzel then called everyone to the dining room for a snack: coffee for the adults, milk for the children, and two different kinds of cake.
“What was the surprise Onkel Gottfried had for you?” Frau Reitzel asked Frieda and Gustav once everyone was seated. “You did not say when you came in.”
The two looked at one another uneasily.
“We met someone,” Frieda mumbled.
“Who?” her father demanded.
“The Führer. The Führer’s car stopped at Onkel Gottfried’s house.”
“We shook hands and talked a little,” Gustav added.
Everyone jumped as Herr Reitzel slammed his fist down on the table.
“Genug, Berta!” he exploded. “Jetzt reicht’s!”
Hurling himself from his chair, he stalked out of the room. Frau Reitzel followed, speaking beseechingly to him in German. Father Gervas went after them. Though they had all doubtless left to avoid having a heated discussion in front of the children, their voices were still audible.
Frieda served as translator. “Vati is even more angry than we expected. He says he has had enough. He says this is the last interference in the raising of his children he will take from Onkel Gottfried. He says our grandparents are right to say we should move to München. He says even München is not far enough away! But we will go. And not just for Hani. For all of us.”
“I do not mind,” said Gustav.
Frieda sighed. “I do not mind either. But Marta will mind. If he means this, Marta will mind very much.”
“Is there likely to be a big, unpleasant, scene when your uncle brings Marta home?” Paige inquired.
“Between Vati and Onkel Gottfried?” Frieda thought for a moment. “No. Father Gervas will calm Vati down, and Mutti will not let him fight with Onkel Gottfried.”
“Yeah, well, even so, after we finish eating, I think we should probably get going,” said Paige.
“Rosa and I also,” said Nicko.
“I understand.” Frieda sighed again. “We will walk back to your camp with you, Nicko. And then take Paige and the others to catch their bus to München.”
“May Hani come, too?” Rosa asked. “To see Onkel Othi’s animals? We will make music for her, also. Onkel Othi with his harmonica, me with my tambourine. Hani likes music.”
Paige wondered if Hani had told her this, or if it was one of those things Rosa just ‘knew’.
As soon as they finished their snack, they said good-bye to Frau Reitzel, and a still visibly annoyed Herr Reitzel, and set off for the Gypsy camp. By the time they got there, Paige had persuaded Frieda that she and the boys could get to the bus stop on their own.
“Very well,” said Frieda. “Please visit us again if you can.”
“They will,” Rosa said solemnly. “But not here. They will come where and when they should. And perhaps when they should not.”
“That kid’s a little on the creepy side,” Paige declared once they were well away from the Gypsy camp.
“You mean Rosa?” Dane frowned. “Yeah. I do find that deep, penetrating look of hers somewhat disconcerting. Some of the things she says are a bit weird, too.”
“No weirder than my medallion insights or your animal ones,” said Jack.
“You think she really does have ‘the gift’?” Paige inquired.
“As Uncle Edmond would say, we can’t dismiss the possibility.”
Upon returning to their own time, they each selected a carving from the box of baby animal carvings and went to join the others. Despite having recently snacked at the Reitzels’, they managed to do justice to Frau Gerlach’s Pfefferkuchen as well.
As promised, Frau Gerlach then got out an old photo album and showed the children pictures of Herr Gerlach and herself when they were children. In almost all of them their clothing was similar to that which Zach and Alina now wore; the exceptions being photos of them wearing traditional outfits like the Reitzel children had had on, and formal portraits of them dressed in Hitler Youth uniforms.
“Jürgen and I both belonged to the HJ, the Hitler-Jugend,” said Frau Gerlach, noticing the looks on all five young faces. “Belonging was compulsory for all Kinder so, belong, we did. The uniforms are no more, but we still have these.”
She took a small box from a nearby drawer. Inside were two Hitler Youth badges. Both were made of metal but were of slightly different designs.
The old woman gave a wry smile. “I was not very dedicated. Many times my Jungmädel leader came to our house to ask why I was not at meetings.”
“Did you then start going more regularly?” Paige wanted to know.
“For a time, so as to keep my parents out of trouble. But then I would stop and not go until the leader again came calling.”
“For me, it was easier,” said Herr Gerlach. “Olga lived here, in Oberammergau, but I lived in a village where they did not so much bother about such things.”
“But you didn’t like going to meetings, either?” Jack inquired.
“The meetings were not so bad. It was the sports I did not like. Sports, sports, all the time, sports. I was not good at sports.”
“I can relate to that,” the equally non-athletic Jack said feelingly.
Zach looked at the Gerlachs curiously. “I can understand, perhaps, the keeping of the photographs of yourselves in your HJ uniforms, but why do you keep the badges? The badges of something you did not like? Something that was not good?”
“Zach, that is not a polite line of inquiry,” Aunt Regina admonished.
Herr Gerlach held up his hand. “No, Regina. Do not scold the boy. It is to be expected that he would wonder. Old people think often of their childhood, Zach. And whether we liked it or not, the Hitler Youth was part of our childhood. It is not a part of which we often speak, but it should sometimes be spoken of. Especially to Kinder so that they might understand how great an influence it had on us.”
“Were you in the Hitler-Jugend, Opa?” Alina asked her grandfather, the question never having occurred to her before.
“No, liebchen. Unlike these two really old people here, I was still too young when the war ended. But one of my sisters, and most of my cousins were. Some of them even joined willingly.”
“Many joined willingly,” said Frau Gerlach. “My older brother very much liked being in the HJ. To him it was like the Boy Scouts. Lots of camping, and boating, and singing, and other activities he enjoyed. Most of all, he liked cycling. Boys and bicycles go together, but bicycles were expensive. Like many German boys, he did not have a bicycle until he joined the HJ. He became a good rider and was among those who, before the war, went on a cycle tour of Great Britain. This tour was something he always remembered. He said scout troops and other youth groups welcomed them wherever they went, but some people looked upon them with suspicion because they thought the tour was merely a cover, and the cyclists were really there to spy for Germany.”
“Were they?” Paige asked.
“That I do not know. My brother went only to cycle. He joined the HJ to make good friends and have good fun. And since he did make good friends and have good fun, he thought everything about it was good. He had much admiration for his leaders. He believed what they told him and did what they told him. Including some things of which he was later ashamed.”
“At every meeting and every rally we were told how important we were,” Herr Gerlach recounted,” “We were told we were Germany’s most precious resource. We were told the future lay only with us. We were told we would one day rule the world. Me, I liked to read and to carve. I did not much want to rule the world. Even so, I felt stirred whenever I heard the Führer speak such words. It was difficult for young people. So hard not to become at least a little indoctrinated.”
“To appear otherwise was dangerous, for themselves and for their families,” said Uncle Ludi. “People who complained a lot, or spoke against the government, or just failed to follow all its dictates ran the risk of being placed in concentration camps to be ‘re-educated’. Denunciations were common. They came from employers, employees, workmates, customers, friends, neighbours, and even, on occasion, family. Some made denunciations to prove they were ‘good Germans’, others because they were fanatics and could not abide any sign of disloyalty to Hitler and the Nazi regime.”
Frau Gerlach nodded. “I remember seeing a neighbour slap his small daughter for greeting my mother with, ‘Grüss Gott’, instead of, ‘Heil Hitler’. Four years old she was. Little more than a baby. And other neighbours put their child in an institution as soon as they realized he had been born deaf. They were ardent Nazis, and only wanted to raise perfect children for the Reich. The grandparents on the father’s side were most upset. The other ones approved.”
“It must have caused trouble in families if some were ardent Nazis and others weren’t,” said Dane, remembering Herr Reitzel and Onkel Gottfried.
Herr Gerlach nodded. “Conflicts were quite common. Sharing a bloodline did not necessarily mean sharing a viewpoint. But that is true of families in any era. Everyone feels more in tune with some members of their family than they do with others.”
“They do indeed,” said Aunt Regina. “And, speaking of families, it’s time we were getting back to ours. By now, Alan should have finished filming, Emma, Gus, and Tania should have finished shopping, and Horst and Gareth should have finished whatever it was they went off to do. Which means the bus will soon be making ready to leave.”
