The Tangled Rose (Time Rose Book 4)

by Renee Duke

  “We can’t go back yet anyway,” said Dane. “We still have stuff to fix. And it’ll be awesome to have an extra Christmas.”

  “Even if we do have to spend it with Marta,” said Paige.

  Chapter Sixteen

  By Christmas Eve, Jack was feeling much better. His arm was showing no signs of infection and Frau Altmeyer credited that to Old Zigana’s salve.

  “Gypsy healers have knowledge beyond that of our doctors. We are fortunate to know one. Gypsies rarely form friendships with non-Gypsies.”

  Pleased with Jack’s progress, she allowed him downstairs to help decorate the Christmas tree awaiting attention in the living room of Altmeyer’s apartment. Though small children were always kept out of the Weihnachtszimmer or, Christmas room, until a bell was rung to show off the decorated tree, Jack, his cousins, and the Altmeyers’ grandchildren were all old enough to adorn it with cookies, candy, tinsel, hand-crafted ornaments, and real candles, which the young Reitzels came to do a short time later. In deference to her grandparents’ feelings regarding appropriate Christmas attire, Marta was not wearing her Jungmädel uniform. Jack’s arm sling had been explained away as support for an injury sustained in a fall, and Frieda said she was pleased to see he was recovering.

  Once the tree was finished and anticipatory looks thrown at the presents beneath it, everyone turned their attention to an enormous dinner.

  “This meal is called Dickbauch, which means ‘fat stomach’,” Gustav told Paige and the boys as they surveyed the array of food.

  Following the meal, they returned to the Christmas tree to open presents. Uncle Trevor had bought presents for the Altmeyers and Reitzels, who also had presents for them.

  When Paige opened hers, it was the Keeper Bracelet.

  “Isn’t this a family heirloom?” she asked, looking at Frau Reitzel.

  Frau Reitzel smiled. “Ja, but Hani’s, to do with as she wished. She wished to give it to you.”

  Paige glanced at Marta, expecting her to start ranting about how, when the bracelet was hers, she hadn’t been allowed to sell it. But, in keeping with her new, docile, manner, she said nothing.

  After the presents had all been opened, some traditional—not Nazified—carols were sung. Even Marta joined in, and then sat quietly while Frau Reitzel read the Christmas story.

  Reverse psychology must be working, Dane mused, having been told of the Reitzels’ new approach.

  “It is now time for church,” said Frau Reitzel.

  Everyone except Jack and Frau Altmeyer got ready. Frau Altmeyer did not deem him well enough to stay up for the Midnight Mass service, or venture out into the night air.

  “You can go to church, also, if you wish,” Marta said to her grandmother. “I will stay with Jack.”

  “That is kind, Marta,” Frau Altmeyer said, “but I think your mother would like to have all her children with her at church in what will be our last Christmas in Germany. The next will be in America. How different will that be I wonder?”

  Well, for one thing, you won’t have to hide Hani’s face under a kerchief and shawl like you are tonight, Paige thought. More cynical than Dane, she also thought, And I doubt Marta’s offer was prompted by kindness. She’s just looking to get out of going.

  If so, being made to go did not put her into a sulk. She merely nodded and went passively with the others.

  Christmas Day was the traditional day for visiting friends as well as family, and both the Altmeyers and Reitzels received their visitors at Gasthaus Altmeyer.

  “Nicko’s family will probably not come until later,” Frieda conjectured. “To avoid contact with our other friends. Most would not mind them being here, but others...” She sighed. “It is difficult. Even some who accept Hani look disparagingly at little Barti.”

  She indicated the son of one of her mother’s friends, who was engaged in racing toy cars along the floor with Hani and Jack. Six-year-old Barthold Tresler was fair-haired and blue eyed. The ideal Aryan child. Or would have been if he had not, like Hani, had Down Syndrome.

  “With him, the condition is more severe. It is hard for him to talk and for others to understand,” Frieda went on.

  “Maybe his parents could teach him sign language,” said Paige.

  “Sign language?”

  “Talking with your hands. Some deaf people use it. So do some kids with Dow— uh, kids like Barti. I’ll show you some.”

  She did so. Impressed, Frieda took her over to Barti’s mother. Frau Tresler did not speak English, but her reaction to a second demonstration left no doubt that she was impressed as well. Beaming, she began to speak excitedly.

  “She likes this idea. She asks if you could teach this to her so she can teach Barti,” Frieda translated.

  “I doubt we’ll be here long enough for me to teach her much, but I could show her the basics. After that she could maybe get a book on it or something.”

  “She would like this very much,” Frieda confirmed. “As with Hani, Barti cannot go to school and receives no help.”

  “Couldn’t Frau Dengler teach him as well?”

  “She moved away last year. To Switzerland, where she has a sister.”

  “Barti’s parents should move, too. To America with you guys. It’s way safer for people who are different, and he could go to school with Hani. When are you leaving?”

  “In the new year. We are going on a ship this time, and this time, Vati has the tickets somewhere safe. Precisely where, he will not say. Though I have no proof, I think Marta took the Hindenburg tickets so she would not have to go to America. It is possible Mutti and Vati suspect this also, and do not want her to try the same trick again.”

  A little while later, the Treslers left and Frau Reitzel and Hani went with them to call on a mutual friend. Thinking Jack looked a little drained from playing with Barti, Frau Altmeyer made him go upstairs to rest for a while. He was therefore spared the company of the next set of visitors. The Grubers arrived with some friends, a Munich family also known to the Altmeyers and Reitzels.

  Herr Altmeyer introduced them to Uncle Trevor, Paige, and Dane.

  “The Kepplers,” he said, in the same tone of voice someone might have said, ‘the Borgias’. “Herr Keppler and his wife and their children, Viktor, Kurt, and Monika. The parents and Monika do not speak English. The boys do.”

  The Kepplers’ offspring were all tall, with fair hair and blue eyes. The boys were eighteen and fourteen and their sister twelve. All three were wearing Hitler Youth uniforms, as were Emil and Elsa, who immediately went to greet their grandparents.

  Marta was still out of uniform, and apologized for this when she came to join the young Kepplers.

  “It is to please my grandparents,” she explained, in German.

  Monika seemed to accept this, but Kurt and Viktor both chose to express disapproval of this perfidious concession by ignoring Marta and turning their attention to Paige.

  “You are English?” Viktor inquired.

  “Canadian,” Paige replied.

  “And what are Canadian schoolgirls taught about the glorious Third Reich?”

  “Not much really. Not in school. We just sometimes read stuff in newspapers or hear it on the radio. Major stuff like, oh, Kristallnacht.”

  “A necessary exercise so the Jews will know their place. My friends and I acquitted ourselves well that night. So did young Kurt.”

  “I am a Jungvolk leader and my boys were spellbound when I told them of our activities,” Kurt boasted. “And most upset that our adult leader had considered them too young to take part. Personally, I would have let them. Though only ten years old, they are the most loyal and stalwart Jungvolk in the city.”

  “All of them?” Dane asked.

  “Of course. When I first took charge of them, there were a few shirkers and cry-babies, but Viktor told me how to deal with those. I soon taught them to do their duty.”

  The brothers shared a laugh over this achievement. The cruel looks that came into their faces did not m
ake Dane eager to probe into the methods involved.

  “When I am a Jungmädel leader, I, too, will look to Viktor for advice,” Marta avowed, anxious to redeem herself. “And to you, Kurt.”

  “And we will be pleased to advise you,” said Kurt, feeling sufficiently flattered to finally look in her direction. “There are differences, of course. Both boys and girls must learn to be obedient, but boys must also be aggressive and decisive. This is not desirable in girls. Girls must only aspire to be good wives and mothers.”

  Paige bristled. “Why?” she demanded.

  “It is what they are best suited to,” said Viktor. Just as we Germans, are, as a race, superior to all other races, so are men superior to women. Women have no head for business or politics, and, being physically weaker, they cannot be expected to do heavy manual labour or fight in the trenches. Those burdens are for men to carry. Women do not have to concern themselves with anything beyond home and family. As Reich Minister Goebbels has said, the mission of women is to be beautiful and bring children into the world.”

  “Goebbels,” Paige said contemptuously. “The Minister of Propaganda. Propaganda being so-called ‘information’ put out to persuade the masses to think in a way that serves the interests of certain people. Doesn’t usually have much basis in fact, though, so forgive me if I don’t put much stock in what your propaganda minister has to say.”

  “Your opinions are of little account,” Viktor said coldly. “You are young and foolish and will learn better as you grow older.”

  He motioned to his brother and sister and the young Kepplers went to join Frieda and Gustav, whom he had spotted across the room.

  “You should not have spoken so to Viktor,” Marta admonished, still looking crushed by his snub. “He is much older and wiser than we are. And a man.”

  “Your father and grandfather are men. You don’t listen to them much.”

  “They are men of the past. Viktor is a man of the future. Onkel Gottfried says he will rise high in the party. So will Kurt. To be the wife of either would be a great honour. An honour Onkel Gottfried is seeking to secure for Elsa. And possibly me.”

  “You’re going to America,” said Paige.

  “Only for a time. Mutti and Vati say, if I truly do not like it there, I can return. Unlike before, I now realize a visit to America could be of service to the Führer. Though Onkel Hardy does not live in a place of particular importance, Onkel Gottfried thinks I might still acquire knowledge that could be useful to the Fatherland.”

  “You planning to become a spy?” Paige demanded, wondering how they could warn President Roosevelt.

  “An observer. If nothing else, I can confirm how soft and weak the American people are.”

  “You could be in for a surprise there,” said Paige. “And what makes you think your parents will let you come back and betray their new country?”

  “Germany is their country. They have become much more accepting of the new order of late. I think I am finally getting through to them. Once we are in America, I am sure I will be able to get everyone to work for the Fatherland.”

  “Good luck with that,” said Paige.

  Marta’s eyes narrowed, an indication she could now recognize wisecracks.

  “I wish to talk more with Monika and her brothers,” she said. Tossing her braids in annoyance, she moved off.

  The Kepplers and Grubers did not stay long and were gone by the time Jack came back downstairs. Before they left, however, Onkel Gottfried and Herr Altmeyer had a blazing argument. It ended with Onkel Gottfried striding out with a satisfied smile and a glowering Herr Altmeyer standing in the doorway of his apartment looking after him with loathing.

  He then turned to Uncle Trevor. “My apologies, Herr Hastings. Once again you have been subjected to a family disagreement.”

  “Yes. Something about bringing you some more guests,” said Uncle Trevor. “I thought you weren’t taking any now that this place has been sold.”

  “I was not intending to do so. But the new owners do not take over until January, and a foreign Nazi sympathizer will be requiring accommodation before that. He arrives the day after tomorrow. He is English. A prominent businessman who has been here twice before. This time, his family will be with him. Ostensibly, he and his wife are here for a holiday with their son and his new bride, for whom it is to be a honeymoon. In reality, Gottfried says they are coming to meet some leading Nazis—Deputy Führer Hess and Reich Minister Ribbentrop, no less. They will be discussing how people on both sides can best do business after England comes to its senses and realizes Adolf Hitler is the saviour of not just Germany, but the world.

  “I naturally did not wish to spend any of my remaining time here in the company of such people, but Helmet and Berta must get to America and Gottfried could make it difficult for them to leave. And also for Gerda and I to leave. He has made this quite clear.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that, Herr Altmeyer,” said Uncle Trevor. “Such people are anathema to me, too.” He turned toward the door. “Ah, looks like Nicko and his family are here.”

  “They are welcome,”

  “How’s the eagle?” Dane asked Nicko as the Brases entered.

  “Doing well.” He smiled condescendingly. “Rosa wanted me to bring him.”

  “He should not be left alone. It troubles him,” said Rosa, looking a little troubled herself.

  “He has the other creatures for company. And a house is no fit place for an eagle. Eagles belong in the open air.”

  “You have him in a caravan,” Jack pointed out, having been told this by Dane.

  “Only at night or if we are away. Now that he’s a bit stronger, he likes to spend his time on top of Onkel Othi’s animal caravan.”

  “Does he not try to get away?” Hani queried. The Reitzel children had also heard about the eagle.

  Nicko shook his head. “He knows we are trying to help him.”

  As at the time of the Jubiläum, the Brases were dressed in their best, with Delo wearing the same outfit Nicko had had on two years earlier and Nicko one that had probably been passed down from Vester or Drogo. A mysterious bulge under Onkel Othi’s embroidered vest turned out to be a small monkey. While unsuited to an eagle, the guesthouse was apparently a fit place for a monkey.

  Everyone found its antics entertaining, and after food had been served, musical entertainment was provided by Frau Altmeyer on the piano and Nicko on his guitar.

  Dane would have liked to have joined in with his harmonica, but couldn’t find it.

  “Did you have it in your pocket when you were flitting between nineteen thirty-seven and nineteen thirty-eight?” Paige inquired.

  “I can’t remember. I might have.”

  “Then that’s probably when you lost it. When weird things were happening.”

  “Maybe. But I’m going to give my room another try.”

  “What did you do with it?” Jack asked as Dane hurried off.

  Paige smiled. “I’ll never tell.”

  “Suppose Auntie Tania and Uncle Alan ask about it when we get back?”

  “Trust me, they won’t.”

  By the time Dane returned, empty-handed, Onkel Poldi and Herr Reitzel had produced violins and were playing a duet. When they finished, a sudden cloud of smoke appeared, and, with it, Herr Altmeyer, flourishing a wand and wearing a cape and top hat.

  Jack had always loved magic shows. Delighted, he turned to Gustav. “I didn’t know your grandfather was a conjurer.”

  “He is known as Ernst the Magnificent,” said Gustav. “He is very good.”

  Jack agreed, pronouncing him every bit as talented as Grantie Etta’s chauffeur, another amateur magician.

  Nadya, Zensi, and Brosi were equally captivated.

  “How did you do that?” an amazed Nadya asked after Herr Altmeyer had produced a sparkling toy ring from her ear and presented it to her.

  Her English uncle laughed. “Magic hands, love. He’s got magic hands.”

  “That’s what M
r. Dexter, or rather, ‘The Renowned Reginald’, always says,” said Jack. “I’ve worked out how he does some of his tricks, but not all of them. I keep asking him to show me, but he won’t. He belongs to a magic society called the Magic Circle and says it’s against the rules. I don’t suppose you’d be willing to divulge any conjuring secrets either, would you, Herr Altmeyer?”

  Herr Altmeyer smiled, and shook his head. “But I will tell you that a conjurer’s biggest secret is to make people look everywhere but where they should.”

  Nicko’s father grimaced. “The Nazis are good at that. Look at all the wonderful things we are doing. That way you will not notice the terrible things.”

  “Not like that in England, mate,” said Uncle Jimmy.

  This generated further debate over the Brases taking refuge there, but when the Gypsy family left, they were still divided on the issue; with Nicko’s parents, Lena, and Philo, in favour, and Onkel Poldi, Onkel Othi, Vester, and Drogo opposed. Old Zigana stayed on the fence, content to go if all were going, but unwilling to leave behind any who weren’t.

  Herr Altmeyer spent the whole of the next day grumbling about the impending arrival of the foreign Nazi supporters, but when Onkel Gottfried brought them round early the following day, he greeted them with forced geniality.

  Jack was having a lie-in, but Paige, Dane, and Uncle Trevor happened to come downstairs for breakfast just as the new guests were checking in. Upon seeing them, Uncle Trevor stopped, clutched the bannister, and, for a moment, looked positively ill.

  “What is it?” Paige asked.