Korinna didn’t wait to hear more. She turned and fled, grabbing her bag and coat on the way out of the silent room.
Chapter Eight
The cold air whipped against Korinna’s damp cheeks as she ran home. No one had ever hit her before. She was stunned by what had happened, and she didn’t want to think about it. She especially didn’t want to talk about it when she got home, so she slowed her pace as she neared her house and carefully wiped the tears from her cheeks. She didn’t want her mother asking any questions.
When she got home she found a note from her mother saying she was visiting with Frau Reineke, her mother’s best friend. Glad no one was home, Korinna took off her coat and clumped up the stairs to her room. Leaving her book bag by the wardrobe as she always did, she lay down on her bed and stared at the ceiling.
Life was terrible, plain and simple, she thought. Her parents were traitors, and she hadn’t done anything to remedy the situation. So she was a traitor, too. And now she had been slapped by her Jungmädel leader. Slapped hard!
She lifted a hand to her tender cheek as tears welled in her eyes again. She didn’t understand why she had been attacked. What had she done wrong? So she had said, “Heil Hitler,” a little out of unison—so what?
Korinna twisted over onto her stomach on her narrow bed, and buried her face in her pillow as tears began to flow in earnest. The Jungmädel was hers, it was where she belonged. Yet now she was suddenly punished in front of everyone, in front of all her friends and the other leaders, for something that seemed so inconsequential, so trivial.
Was she supposed to be exactly like everyone else? Move and speak at the same time? Dress exactly alike? Think and feel identically?
That’s impossible, she thought, trying to hold back a sob that tightened her throat. Finally it erupted into the stillness of the room. Not only was it impossible, she didn’t even want to be exactly like everyone else! Another sob escaped, and then another, and another, until each one sounded like an echo of the one before.
All the fear and anger Korinna had been holding inside these last few days gave vent through her tears. Nothing was fair. Nothing was right. Nothing! Neither her parents nor her Jungmädel—the two things she counted on the most—were the way they were supposed to be.
Finally her sobs quieted to join the stillness of the house. Korinna held her breath to listen to the silence, and that’s when she heard the soft meow of her kitten. She lifted her hot, tear-stained face from the pillow just in time to see the kitten come scrambling up onto her bed.
Korinna gathered the little bundle in her arms. “Hello, little one,” she crooned, sitting up and rubbing her stuffy nose against the silken fur.
Suddenly, a thought struck her. She didn’t know why she had thought she was alone when this whole time there had been two people not four meters away from her bed. She glanced suspiciously at the wardrobe, but it looked firmly in place against the wall. Where had her kitten come from? she wondered, still staring at the wardrobe. Someone had let the kitten out of the hiding room, she guessed, because she was almost sure the kitten hadn’t been out before or it would have greeted her sooner.
She was embarrassed to think of the Jews listening to her crying. They had no right to eavesdrop on her, she thought angrily. But just as quickly her anger dissipated. For heaven’s sake, she thought, exasperated with herself, what were the Krugmanns supposed to do? Knock on the wall and tell her they could hear every sob and that she was disturbing them?
A sudden giggle tried to escape, but it got lodged in her throat, swallowed back just in time. Hiding Jews in a back room was no laughing matter. Obviously, one of them had let the kitten out of the hiding room for a reason, and she had a strong suspicion the reason was to make her feel better. And it had worked, she realized with a slight smile.
Korinna stroked the head of her purring kitten, while still staring absently at the wardrobe. She didn’t exactly like the idea of the Jews being considerate; after all, it was contrary to everything she had ever learned about this contemptible enemy.
Just then she heard the front door open. Her mother was home. Laying aside the kitten, she hurried into the bathroom to wash cold water over her heated face, trying to erase all trace of her tears.
“Korinna?” her mother called.
Korinna went downstairs and greeted her mother in the front hall with a hug.
Her mother stepped back from her daughter and frowned slightly. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine. Why?”
Frau Rehme shrugged. “Your face looks red and you hugged me so hard, I thought you’d crush me.”
Korinna grinned. “I’m just happy to see you. What are you making for supper?” she asked, following her mother into the kitchen.
“What do you think?” Frau Rehme said dryly. “Bread and cheese, bread and jam. Oh, and maybe a bit of butter here and there.”
Korinna laughed. “Well, it’s not too exciting, but you always manage to make everything taste good, Mother.”
Her mother smiled. “You must have had a good day at school today.” She tied an apron around her waist. “Did you have fun at your Jungmädel meeting after school?” she asked, glancing at her daughter.
“Yes,” Korinna replied casually, avoiding her mother’s eyes. “We learned a new song for the Führer’s visit.”
“Oh,” was all her mother said in response. She changed the subject. “Here, peel these potatoes for tomorrow.”
Korinna took the pile from her mother and sat down to peel off the dirty skins. Potatoes and more potatoes. Sometimes they got meat. Sometimes they got sugar. Sometimes they got butter. Times were hard, but they’d get better thanks to Adolf Hitler. Wouldn’t they? Abruptly Korinna pushed that doubt out of her mind. Just because of a little slap she shouldn’t be losing her faith in the Führer and in the Fatherland. Life would get better once enemies, such as the Krugmanns, were subdued.
Chapter Nine
“Korinna, did you hear me?” Rita demanded as they walked to their Jungmädel meeting on Friday.
“What?”
Rita looked at her friend through narrowed eyes. “What’s the matter with you today?”
“I’m sorry,” Korinna said. “I feel a little light-headed. I must still be sick. In fact, I don’t think I should stop at your house and then go to the meeting.”
“I don’t blame you, after what happened yesterday,” Rita said.
Korinna almost thought she saw a smirk on her best friend’s face. But she must have imagined it, she told herself quickly.
“That’s not why,” Korinna said defensively. “I’m just feeling a bit tired. You go on. Tomorrow you can tell me what happened.” She started to turn down a side street toward her house.
“I don’t think I’ll go today, either,” Rita said unexpectedly, turning the corner with her friend. “I’ll come home with you. It’s been so long since you’ve had me over after school, Korinna. And remember, your mother did invite me over this week.”
“But that was before—” Korinna abruptly cut herself off.
“Before what?” Rita asked.
Korinna shook her head, “Never mind. But you can’t come over anyway.”
“Why not?”
“I ... my mother isn’t expecting you,” Korinna stammered. “She won’t have enough food prepared.”
“That’s fine. I won’t stay for dinner. Your mother won’t mind if I just stop by, will she?”
At one time, Korinna knew her mother wouldn’t have minded. But now that the Jews had moved in.... She wondered what the Krugmanns were doing at that moment.
“You know I’m always welcome at your house,” Rita persisted. “What’s gotten into you?”
“What?”
“There you go again!” Rita exclaimed. “You’re impossible!”
Korinna shook her head as though to clear it. “I’m sorry, Rita, I really must still be sick. Maybe it’s better if you don’t come over,” she said, forcing herself to sound
calm.
“I’ll only come for a little while. Unless, of course, you really don’t want me to,” Rita said in a casual voice.
Korinna sighed. They were almost to her house. “No, it’s alright. You can come over, but not for too long. I think I should lie down for a bit before dinner.”
“Fine. I won’t stay long,” Rita said as she preceded her friend to the front door and walked in without waiting for Korinna.
Korinna followed on her friend’s heels. “Hello, Mother,” she called as soon as she was in the house.
“Did you have to yell right in my ear?” Rita demanded, lifting a hand to her right ear. “This house isn’t that big.”
Korinna smiled wanly at her friend, then turned her attention to her mother who’d just stepped into the small front hall.
“Why, hello, Rita,” Frau Rehme said politely. “I haven’t seen you here lately. You should stop by more often.”
Rita turned her head slightly and grinned at Korinna. Korinna didn’t bother smiling back.
“Thank you, Frau Rehme. Korinna and I decided to skip our meeting this afternoon. We thought it was best after what happened at yesterday’s meeting.”
“Oh? What happened?” asked Korinna’s mother with a raised eyebrow.
Rita’s eyes flew wide. “You mean Korinna didn’t tell you the awful thing that happened?”
“No, she didn’t,” Frau Rehme said. “But I’m sure you will,” she added wryly.
Korinna poked her finger into her friend’s back. “It was nothing. Come on, let’s go upstairs.”
“But, Korinna, you really should tell your mother what happened yesterday. I’m sure she wants to know.” Rita turned to Frau Rehme. “Korinna was slapped by one of our leaders for not saluting the flag properly!”
“Oh, is that all?” Korinna’s mother turned to her daughter. “You really should do things properly, dear, or you’ll be punished. It’s only right that your leader slapped you. You must learn to be more respectful.”
Korinna lowered her gaze. She couldn’t believe her mother was responding like this. She hadn’t wanted to tell her about the slap yesterday because she hadn’t wanted her to get upset. But her mother wasn’t upset. Korinna felt a lump form in her throat.
“Korinna?” her mother said gently.
Korinna looked up. Her mother’s eyes shone with tears. She was upset! It suddenly dawned on Korinna that her mother just didn’t want Rita to know. She smiled tremulously at her mother.
“You’re right, Mother,” she said evenly. “I was just tired from not feeling well these last few days. It won’t happen again. I promise.”
“I should hope not,” Frau Rehme said firmly.
“Let’s go upstairs,” Korinna said to her friend. “Or maybe we should just sit in here,” she amended quickly, pointing to the front room. She didn’t want to chance Rita hearing any “mouse noises” from behind her wardrobe.
Rita shook her head. “No, let’s go up to your room.”
Korinna reluctantly led her friend up the stairs.
In Korinna’s room, Rita said, “I thought your mother would get upset about the slap.”
“Then why did you tell her?” Korinna asked loudly as she purposely dumped her book bag noisily against the wardrobe. She hoped the Krugmanns could hear her talking to Rita and would keep quiet.
“I just thought she ought to know. You are her daughter, after all,” Rita said defensively.
“Next time let me do the telling,” Korinna said, unable to keep the anger from her voice.
“Sorry.”
Korinna glanced at her friend. She didn’t look sorry. “Oh, forget it.”
“Where’s your kitten?” Rita asked.
Korinna froze. She’d forgotten about the kitten. Where was she? With Rachel?
“Here, kitty,” Rita called, leaning down and looking under Korinna’s desk.
“No. Don’t do that,” Korinna said quickly, fearing she’d hear a soft meow coming from behind the wardrobe. “She doesn’t answer to that. She’ll come out when she feels like it.”
Rita frowned. “Where does she hide? Can we go look for her?”
Korinna tried to sound enthusiastic. “Sure, let’s try downstairs. She loves the kitchen.” She knew they probably wouldn’t find the kitten anywhere except behind her wardrobe, but at least she was getting Rita out of her room and away from the Krugmann’s hideaway.
The girls found Korinna’s mother in the kitchen. “Mother,” Korinna said. “Have you seen my kitten?”
“No, I haven’t, dear. But let me help you look. I’ll search upstairs,” Frau Rehme said quickly, hurrying out of the room.
“Haven’t you named your kitten yet?” Rita asked.
“Not yet. I can’t think of a good name,” Korinna said, making a show of looking for her kitten behind the stove.
Rita stooped to look under the kitchen chairs.
“Here she is,” Frau Rehme called from the top landing.
Korinna followed her friend up the stairs.
“So she was up here after all,” Rita said, taking the kitten from Frau Rehme’s hands.
“Thank you, Mother.”
Korinna’s mother squeezed one of her daughter’s hands as they passed each other on the stairs.
“She’s cute,” Rita said begrudgingly, tickling the kitten on the stomach. The kitten kicked and clawed with her sharp nails. “Ouch!” Rita exclaimed. She yanked her hand away from the kitten’s grip. “She tried to bite me.”
Korinna smiled, taking the animal from Rita. “She’s just playing.” She scratched her pet behind the ears.
Rita moved to sit on the edge of the bed, as Korinna continued to stroke the kitten.
“My parents are the enemy,” Rita read out loud.
Korinna’s head jerked up. Her hand reached forward to grab the black notebook from Rita’s hands, but she wasn’t quick enough. She had left the book under her pillow.
“What does this mean?” Rita asked, standing on the bed to hold the book above Korinna’s reaching hand.
Korinna’s heart leapt to her throat. “Nothing. It means nothing. I was just mad at my parents one day. I don’t even remember why.”
Rita jumped off the bed and hid the black book back under Korinna’s pillow. “Better watch what you write,” she warned. “If a Jungmädel leader read that, she’d ask you a lot of questions. Of course I believe what you just told me, but a leader might not.” Rita’s eyes darted around the room. Was it Korinna’s imagination, or did her friends eyes rest a little longer on the wardrobe than on anything else?
Korinna was glad when Rita said she had to go home.
“Don’t tell anyone about what I wrote,” Korinna said. She wasn’t ready to turn in her parents yet.
Rita paused in the doorway. “I won’t. Your secret’s safe with me.” Then she raced down the stairs and out the front door.
When she was sure Rita was gone, Korinna tore the page out of her black notebook and put the book in her bag. She took the page and ripped it into tiny pieces, trying not to think about what she was doing.
After dinner, Korinna sat down at her desk and tried to do her homework. She wrote a short essay and studied her history book, but it was hard to concentrate for some reason. Finally she gave up. Looking out the window, the murky sky depressed her. She closed the drapes to shut out the gloom, but it didn’t help. The gloom had settled in her heart.
On sudden impulse, she knocked on the wardrobe, then slowly pulled it away from the wall. The candlelight from the hidden room spilled out into her bedroom. Sophie, pale, eyes wide, stared up at Korinna. No one spoke for a full minute. Korinna didn’t know what to say. What was she doing?
She caught Rachel’s gaze. The little girl’s eyes were dark and wide like her mother’s, but while the mother’s held fear and suspicion, Rachel’s eyes looked sad and lonely.
Still Korinna couldn’t speak. She motioned for the little girl to crawl out of her cramped space into Korinna’s r
oom. Rachel asked her mother with her eyes, and after a slight pause, Sophie gave a curt nod. Rachel scrambled out from behind the wardrobe, and Korinna pushed it back into place.
Korinna and Rachel sat in the darkening room, facing each other, legs crossed, elbows on knees.
“Do you want to play?” Rachel whispered.
Korinna shrugged. “Play what?”
“We could play dress up, or house,” Rachel said, her excited voice soon rising above a whisper. “You could be the daddy and I’m the mommy. Or let’s play soldier.”
“Soldier?” Korinna said.
“You’re a soldier and I’m a Jew and you capture me; then we switch places and you’re the Jew.”
“Why would you want to play that?” Korinna asked sharply.
“I’ve never played it before,” Rachel said, her voice dropping as though she sensed she’d said something she shouldn’t have.
“Then how do you know about this ... this game?”
“The boys who lived nearby used to play it.”
“What boys?”
“Hendrik and Werner, and some of the other boys.”
“Were they Jews?”
Rachel’s eyes widened. “No,” she whispered.
Korinna shook her head. She didn’t understand the heat she felt inside. She didn’t understand her sudden longing to take little Rachel on her lap and sing to her. She didn’t understand anything anymore.
At that moment, her mother walked into the bedroom. She pulled aside the wardrobe and said, “The sun has set. I thought you’d like to know.”
“Thank you,” Frau Krugmann said, laying aside her sewing.
Puzzled, Korinna watched Rachel crawl back behind the wardrobe.
“It’s time for the Krugmann’s Sabbath prayers,” Frau Rehme said, as though sensing Korinna’s question.
She looked to say good-bye to Rachel, but what Frau Krugmann was doing caught her eye instead. She had turned a box upside down and on it she had placed two candlesticks. Visions of a similar scene popped into her head, and she recalled her childhood friend Anita inviting her over for the Sabbath prayers and dinner a few times. It had been so long ago she’d forgotten. But now a strange yearning for her childhood washed over her. How simple it had been then, with Anita Scheinmann as her best friend, and nothing more to worry about than whether her dolls had enough to eat, and if Papa would tell her a story after supper.
Behind the Bedroom Wall Page 6
