by Renee Duke
“We might,” said Jack. “It wouldn’t hurt to put our nineteen-thirties clothes in our daypacks. There are probably lockers or a cloakroom we can leave them in.”
Chapter Twelve
The next day, Cousin Bentley and Penelope met them outside the Deutsches Museum in what was shaping up to be a mini blizzard.
Penelope told the other children she was very pleased to see them and intended to make up for ‘being nasty at Grantie’s party’.
“I was disappointed about not being at that fancy wedding I told you about,” she explained. “I very unkindly took it out on all of you. I’m ever so sorry. Really I am.”
Paige and the boys responded to this with tight smiles. Before leaving the guesthouse their mothers had made them promise to at least be pleasant to Penelope.
“This beastly weather is likely to make the museum’s visitor count either very small or very large,” said Cousin Bentley. “If it’s small, you children should be able to scamper about a bit. Probably get way ahead of your slower moving elders.”
And let Penelope corner one of us when there’s no one else around? thought Jack, who had reluctantly agreed to let Paige wear the medallion again. No chance.
His mother was equally adamant.
“There’ll be none of that,” she said firmly. “They’re going to stay with us at all times. Even if the crowd’s thin and we’d be able to keep them in view.”
“And if it’s packed in there, it’s even more important to stay together so they don’t accidentally get swept away from us,” said Mrs. Marchand.
The museum was packed, the high number of visitors evident even as they made their way to the cloakroom so the children could deposit their coats and packs. The adults chose to keep theirs.
“My, it’s busy,” said Cousin Ophelia. “I suggest we each take charge of a specific child to avoid mislaying one. I’ll take Penelope. I don’t know her as well as the others and would like to get better acquainted.”
“That’s very nice of you, Cousin Ophelia,” Penelope said, with more politeness than enthusiasm.
“And very sensible,” said Mrs. Marchand. “I’ll have Paige. Shall I hold your hand, dear?”
“No,” Paige said emphatically.
“I’ll hold your hand, Mummy,” said Jack, who still often did.
“And I’ll…um, stick with Uncle Trevor,” said Dane.
Despite the close surveillance, and the unwelcome presence of Penelope, the children thoroughly enjoyed their time at the world’s largest scientific museum. Having been a science and technology enthusiast for years, Dane loved practically everything. Paige and Jack were a bit more discriminating, but found many of the exhibits interesting. Especially the real WWI U-Boat, a Stone Age cave replica, and a Polish salt mine replica.
Penelope hid her displeasure at being the focus of Cousin Ophelia’s attention by prattling about the various exhibits and making enthusiastic noises whenever the adults solicited her opinion. As the afternoon wore on, however, her cheery façade began to crumble.
“Oh, look, they’ve got something on amateur radios,” said Cousin Ophelia. “I’ve got a friend who’s into that. Come on, Penelope. Let’s take a closer look.”
Penelope didn’t move. “I’m rather weary from walking, Cousin Ophelia. And I’m really not all that interested in amateur radio. You go. I’ll wait here and look at this, well, whatever it is I’m standing beside.”
“We have to stay together, Penelope. And I’m sure I can make it interesting. My friend’s told me lots of amateur radio anecdotes.”
Taking her by the arm, Cousin Ophelia pulled her across to the exhibit. She resisted a little, which caught the attention of the other adults and gave Paige an opportunity to motion to the boys.
“Looks like Penelope’s starting to feel antsy. I’d like to get away from her for a while. Have you noticed that, whenever the elevators here open, they’re full, or almost full? Well, follow my lead.”
As soon as Cousin Ophelia and her hapless walking buddy returned, Paige waved a museum brochure in front of Mrs. Marchand.
“Look, Mum. According to this, there’s going to be a musical instrument demonstration in a few minutes. Since Dane’s so into music now, we should check that out.”
“It’s not on this level,” Mrs. Marchand said, looking at her watch. “Do we have time to get there?”
“We do if we take the elevator.”
“Great idea,” said Dane, and immediately headed for it.
When the doors opened, the elevator was, as anticipated, quite full, but Paige and the boys managed to wriggle their way in ahead of the rest of their party. Penelope tried to join them, but only succeeded in getting halfway in before a nudge from Paige caused her to stumble out again.
“Doors are closing, Mum,” Paige yelled, having surreptitiously pressed the button to bring this about. “We’ll wait for you down below.”
“Oh, well played,” Jack said as the doors closed upon the pleasing spectacle of Penelope’s enraged face.
Paige grinned. “Thanks. We can ride this down to the ground floor and change in the washroom before hitting the streets of Munich as they were eighty or so years ago.”
“What about coats?” Dane asked Jack.
Jack frowned, concentrating, then shook his head. “I’m not sure. It’s hard to tell this time. I guess we’ll just have to take a chance.”
After changing, they made their way to the entrance area and left the museum. It was still snowing hard outside, but their lack of warm outerwear raised no eyebrows as the museum’s courtyard was deserted. Upon materializing in its equally deserted Pre-World War Two counterpart, they were all thankful to find it was spring and the courtyard only empty because the museum had just closed for the day.
“So, how do we get from here to Gasthaus Altmeyer?” Paige asked.
“A tram, I guess,” said Dane. “The subway hasn’t been built yet.”
They made their way to the nearest tram stop, where Paige and Dane waited while Jack went to a nearby newsstand to inquire as to which tram they should take.
“Even when he finds out, it’ll be hard to know when to get off,” said Dane.
“Especially with those things lining the streets,” said Paige, nodding toward the plethora of Nazi flags adorning buildings and lampposts, and trying to ignore the cold feeling the sight gave her. “The city just doesn’t look the same as it does in our day.”
While at the newsstand, Jack glanced at a newspaper to ascertain the date.
“It’s the twenty-first of April, nineteen-thirty-seven,” he informed the others, running back to them just as a tram arrived.
“Still not at war, then,” Paige said as they boarded. “That’s a relief. I keep wondering about that every time we connect.”
“No T4 programme or Gypsy round-up yet either,” said Dane. “That’s a relief, too.”
They got off at a stop someone on the tram said was close to Gasthaus Altmeyer but could find nothing that looked familiar.
Turning down a residential side street Paige said, “This doesn’t ring any bells, either. We can’t be in the right place for the guesthouse.”
“But we’re in the right place for the Reitzels’ house,” said Jack, pointing. “Frieda said they lived close by, and that’s her and Marta going into a house three doors down.”
“Why, so it is,” said Paige. “And both of them in HJ uniforms. You can bet Frieda’s not happy about that.”
Racing ahead of the others, Dane went and knocked on the Reitzels’ door. By the time Paige and Jack arrived, Frau Reitzel was cautiously opening it.
Recognizing her callers, she relaxed and broke into a smile. “Ah, you are back. Come in. Come in.”
She ushered them into the living room, where Hani and Gustav were seated on a sofa with Father Gervas. Marta stood to the side looking bored.
“Look who has come for another holiday,” said Frau Reitzel, waving them towards chairs and taking one herself. “Did you
r parents come, too, or are you with your uncle as you were last summer?”
“We’re with our uncle,” Jack replied. “Our parents can’t afford to travel much. Uncle Trevor gets free trips through his work. He said we could visit you while he was off taking photos. We got a bit lost trying to find Gasthaus Altmeyer, but then we saw Frieda and Marta and realized we’d stumbled across your house.”
“Father Gervas has been travelling also,” said Hani. “He brought to us a present, but says we must wait for Frieda and Marta.”
“Frieda is upstairs, changing out of her uniform,” Marta said contemptuously.
“As do I as soon as I am home,” said Gustav, “but I did not have a meeting today.”
“You do not go when you do,” Marta retorted. “Twice now your leader has been here to complain.”
“That is why I was careful about opening the door,” Frau Reitzel told her visitors. “People are becoming so intolerant of those who are different, it is best Hani not be seen by some who come here.”
“I am surprised your parents do not hide you away,” said Marta. “Though you are not like Hani, you three must also have a defect of some sort.”
“Marta!” said Frau Reitzel giving her a disapproving look.
“They must, Mutti. It has been three years since we first met them and they have hardly changed at all.” She nodded toward Jack. “He told the Führer he was nine. He must now be twelve, but does not look it.”
Dane gulped. Could even Jack come up with an explanation for that? Paige felt equally dismayed, but, as usual, Jack rose to the occasion.
“I lied a bit,” he said. “I was actually only eight. It was Dane who was nine, and Paige ten. We have all grown a little, but since we’re so undersized, I suppose it isn’t all that noticeable. Delayed puberty is quite common in our family but everything gets sorted out in due course. We’ve been told that, even if we spend years hardly growing at all, we will eventually mature.”
“And your clothes? As with your height, they are always the same.”
“School uniform,” Jack replied.
“You wear your uniforms on holiday?”
“Why shouldn’t they? You wear yours all the time,” said Gustav.
Marta rounded on him, ready to take issue, but Frau Reitzel held up her hand. “That will do, Marta. Such questions are impolite. Ah, here is Frieda.”
Now dressed in an everyday skirt and blouse, Frieda greeted their visitors and settled onto the arm of Frau Reitzel’s chair.
Hani tugged on Father Gervas’s sleeve. “The present, Father Gervas?”
“Hani! You, too, have no manners,” said Frau Reitzel, embarrassed.
Father Gervas laughed. “She has been very patient, Berta.” He took a large brown envelope from a satchel and gave it to Hani.
Her face lit up as she withdrew a watercolour painting of the photo he had taken in Unterammergau.
“It is me. And Rosa, and Pascha,” she cried. “Danke, Father Gervas.”
Marta barely glanced at the painting, but the others all examined it closely.
“It is lovely,” said Frau Reitzel. She looked fondly at Hani. “You and Rosa were both so little then. Pascha, too.”
“They look like Hummel figurine kids,” said Paige.
“This they will perhaps become,” said Father Gervas. “It was SisterMaria Innocentia Hummel who did it for me. Many of her drawings are now made into figurines. They are very popular. But not everyone admires her work.” He looked at Frau Reitzel. “Some think her children are too sweet and innocent. As we all know, Herr Hitler wants Germany’s young people to be as ‘tough as leather’ and as ‘hard as Krupp's steel’. It is not desirable that they be portrayed as ‘brainless sissies’, which is what one magazine claims Sister Maria Innocentia’s children look like. When I visited her last week, she showed me a sketch called Die Freiwilligen—the Volunteers. It depicts two little boys, possibly Jungvolk boys, who are marching like soldiers but do not look happy about it. She intends to have it published soon, and put beneath it a plea for peace. I am afraid, if she does, she might get herself, and her order, into trouble.”
“Might and should,” Marta said vehemently. “Such a drawing would show great disrespect to the Fatherland. If the Jews and Communists force us into war, all must be ready to fight.”
“Is this what you are taught, also?” Father Gervas asked sadly, turning toward Gustav.
The boy nodded. “But Opa says, if war comes, it will be because of Herr Hitler.”
“That is a lie!” Marta shouted. “Opa is a traitor.”
“And you are an idiot,” said Frieda. “What was it that magazine said? ‘Brainless sissies’? Not a sissy, perhaps, but—”
“Genug!” said Frau Reitzel. “Enough. Enough of this. Father Gervas has brought us a present. This should make us happy, not set us to quarreling.”
“I am happy,” said Hani. “I love this picture. Rosa will, also.”
“There is another copy in the envelope,” said Father Gervas. “You may give it to her the next time you see her or Nicko.”
“Danke. I will put it in my room so it does not get lost. This one you will hang in here, Mutti?”
“Of course,” Frau Reitzel took the first copy from her and smiled as Hani made for her room with the other. “You are most kind, Father Gervas. Nicko and Rosa promised to come before we go, but if they do not, my parents will get Rosa’s copy to her.”
“Go? Go where?” asked Jack. “Are you planning a holiday?”
“Yes,” said Gustav. “A long holiday. Three or four months. We are going to America, to visit Onkel Hardy. He says, near him, in Ohio, there is a school for children like Hani. A real school, where she can make friends. Mutti and Vati wish to see it and learn more about it.”
“That’s great!” said Paige, delighted that the Reitzels didn’t have to be persuaded to get Hani out of Germany. “When are you leaving?”
“In two weeks,” said Frau Reitzel. “Soon I must start to pack.”
“You do not have to pack for me,” said Marta. “I am staying here.”
Frau Reitzel sighed. “You are not staying here, Marta. You are coming.”
“I do not want to. My Jungmädel group will soon be having many special camps and parades. If you take me away, I will miss them all.”
“They’ll still be doing camps and parades when you get back,” Dane said soothingly, not wanting Marta’s opposition to hinder the Reitzels’ departure.
“Not the same ones,” Marta replied. “And it is not necessary for me to go. I can stay with Onkel Gottfried. Or with my friend Monika’s family. Or any of my friends’ families.”
“You belong with your own family, Marta,” said Father Gervas. “Not that of a friend.”
“Besides, do you not wish to brag to your friends?” said Frieda. “Even Ulrika might be impressed to hear we are going to America on the ‘Pride of Germany’.”
“Is that what the ship’s called?” Jack asked.
“No,” said Gustav. “Mutti would prefer a ship. She would very much prefer a ship. But Vati has booked us passage on a zeppelin. An airship. The biggest ever built, which is why it has been declared the Pride of Germany.”
“What’s its real name?” asked Dane.
“The Hindenburg. We board on the third of May.”
Chapter Thirteen
Old newsreels Dane had seen flashed into his mind. Visual coverage of the famous airship hurtling to its fiery end. But when? Nineteen-thirty seven? Or later? The Hindenburg had made several successful Atlantic crossings. The Reitzels might not be booked on its last one.
Paige and Jack’s thoughts were running along the same lines.
“Definitely a different way to travel,” Paige said carefully. “But is it really safe?”
“That is what I wonder,” said Frau Reitzel. “To be in a ship on top of the ocean is one thing. To be dangling from a big balloon high above the ocean quite another.”
“Oh, Mutti, it
will be fun,” Gustav avowed.
Paige shook her head doubtfully. “I’m not so sure. Sounds kind of chancy to me. I sure wouldn’t like it. It might be better to get your money back and go on a boat.”
“I agree,” said Father Gervas. “I know Helmut is keen to go by airship, Berta, but he would not want you to be nervous the whole trip.”
“I would be nervous on a ship, too,” Frau Reitzel confessed. “The truth is, I do not like the idea of going across the ocean. But for my Hani, I will.”
“For Hani you will do anything,” said Marta. “We come to München because it is best for Hani. We go to America because it is best for Hani. Always what is best for Hani. What is best for me you do not consider. I do not want to go to America in any type of ship. I want to stay here.”
With that she ran from the room.
Exchanging concerned looks, Frau Reitzel and Father Gervas went after her.
“Looks like Marta’s still got some unresolved sibling rivalry issues.” Paige nodded toward Dane. “I can’t say I was all that thrilled when he came along, but I didn’t really mind him too much until he started to crawl and get into my stuff. Things did get a bit testy then. But we weathered it. I can just about stand him nowadays. Marta doesn’t seem to have got past the jealous toddler stage.”
Frieda nodded. “You could be right. Because of Hani’s…condition, she required much attention. Gustav and I were old enough to understand this. Marta was not.”
“But Mutti and Vati do not think only of Hani,” said Gustav. “If the school is good, they will leave her with Onkel Hardy and his family so she can go to it. But it is possible they will leave all of us there. I heard them talking. They believe war is coming and do not want me to be a soldier for Herr Hitler. Or Frieda and Marta the wives of soldiers. Also, Mutti thinks, since Onkel Hardy is a doctor for people’s minds, he might be able to help Marta with her thinking so she can be a nice girl again.”
“Was she ever one?” Paige asked.
“She was not always as she is now,” said Frieda. “Though she was, as you say, jealous of Hani, there were times when they were both small that she would play with her and sing or dance to amuse her.” She smiled softly, as though re-visualizing those scenes. “It was the same with those of other races. When Marta first went to school, her best friend was Jewish. But then the Nazis came to power, and she began to change. Her teachers, and Jungmädel leaders, and, of course, Onkel Gottfried, all encouraged her to believe that such as Hani are abominations and Jews cause nothing but trouble.”
