Life Will Have Its Way

by Angie Myers Lewtschuk

  “Anja!” Stop! It’s the children’s grandfather. He’s come to take them home.”

  She turned back and pulled her sweater up over her shoulders. She was still in a panic, I could tell she was torn between standing and listening to me and going for the children. “Their grandfather?” she asked somewhat irritated. “What grandfather?”

  “The children’s grandfather. He’s come for them. He’s waiting in my apartment. He’s there now.”

  Her brows furrowed, her lips became tight. “Well, where in the world did he come from in the middle of the night?”

  “Anja, why are you asking me? You’re the expert on all these secret passageways. I would imagine he came from the same place they did.”

  “Well, they never mentioned their grandfather, did they? I don’t remember hearing anything about a grandfather.”

  “Give me a minute to freshen up and we’ll go see about this,” she said gruffly as she disappeared into the bathroom. When she returned, she seemed even more upset.

  “This just doesn’t feel right, I really don’t have a good feeling about this.”

  I was surprised by her reaction, it wasn’t anywhere near what I had been expecting.

  “I mean, how are we supposed to even know he’s really their grandfather?” she asked, her eyes wild and accusing.

  “Trust me” I nodded, trying to suppress a laugh, it didn’t seem right to be laughing while Anja was in such an agitated state. “I can guarantee at the very least he’s related.”

  We reached the door and she stopped, “You know, maybe you should bring him over here. I think it’s safer. I don’t think it would be wise to leave the children right now.”

  I wasn’t sure I wanted to bring him back into the hall where he would surely find a way to make too much noise. Anja must have sensed my apprehension. “It’s late, run along now, no one will see him,” she said impatiently as she pushed me toward the door.

  Turning back I caught her fussing with her hair in the mirror over the fireplace. She was muttering something under her breath as I went out.

  I rushed back to my apartment to tell the children’s grandfather we were going next door, he wanted to check on his things in the bathroom and was refusing to leave without them. His clothes were still quite damp, I presented him with a large trash bag, he loaded everything inside and shoved his feet into his boots.

  Anja was waiting behind the door and pulled it open as we approached. She checked the hallway and secured the lock behind us then turned to introduce herself to the children’s grandfather.

  “Hello,” she said in an anxious, rushed tone, “I understand you’re here for the chil… dr…”

  Her voice trailed off, she stared at him, unable to finish. He stared back, his eyes filled with anticipation.

  “Thomas?” She looked as though she’d just seen a ghost. Her hand reached toward him, needing to be able to feel something, yet not fully expecting to have anything to feel. “Is that you?”

  “Am I too late?” he asked, playfully while trying to keep a straight face.

  She stumbled toward him, falling into him. She reached up and took his cheeks in her hands, her eyes searched his, she was trying to decide whether or not the person standing in her living room could possibly be the person she thought it was.

  “Is it really you?” she whispered.

  He wrapped his arms around her small figure and gave her a tight squeeze, then pushed her back gently so he could see her better. “It is Anja, right?” He smiled flirtatiously, pulling his head back even farther, “No, no, not possible, you must surely be Anja’s daughter.” He looked to me and winked.

  Anja shook her head, her face flushed and her eyes seemed to sparkle, “Oh my, Thomas, it is you, isn’t it? It really is you.”

  After the initial excitement had worn away, they both became quiet and the room was filled with a sort of awkwardness, the kind that always seems to surface during any kind of reunion. They needed a bit of time to get past the years and wrinkles, time to rectify the fact that the person standing next to them was the same person they used to know, the same person they’d kept preserved in their thoughts where time hadn’t changed them.

  “Well, sir, I must say, you sure know how to keep a lady waiting,” Anja said, her lips forcing themselves into an unconvincing pout.

  “I know, I know,” he said, “but if it helps any, I can honestly tell you that I haven’t ever stopped dreaming of this day.”

  “Me too,” she replied under her breath. Her eyelids dropped. I knew she was trying to recapture in the span of a minute the forty years that had slipped away.

  They moved slowly toward the kitchen, I offered to warm water for tea and set mugs on the table but decided not to join them. I felt a little intrusive and thought I needed to make myself invisible in order to stay. Thomas cleared his throat and rubbed his face, knowing what Anja was thinking, he decided to answer a question she hadn’t yet asked.

  “You should know we always planned to come back,” he squinted to look deep into her eyes, “to be honest, for many years it was all I thought about.” He rubbed his finger over the pattern of the cup while he spoke. “The minute we heard the war was over, we had great plans to return home. To finally get back to our lives, to make up for all the time we lost, for all the time that was taken from us.” He reached across the table and put his hand over hers, “to rekindle old romances.”

  Anja lowered her head, her cheeks flushed again with a pink, rosy glow.

  “But things didn’t exactly work out that way.” He pulled his hand back and waved it toward me, looking for something to sweeten his tea. I reached quickly for the sugar bowl hoping he wouldn’t lose his train of thought. After adding an insane amount of sugar to his cup, he went on to tell us that as soon as the war had ended some of the young, single guys headed back for the city right away. And unfortunately they didn’t get quite the reception they’d been hoping for. People were openly hostile, even old friends and colleagues were unhappy to see them. Things were even worse for the families that tried to go back to their homes. They found the houses were already occupied, occupied by people that had no intention of leaving, people that were angry, people that had never expected them to return.

  Thomas stopped to take a long, slow drink, then placed his mug back on the table, the metal of his spoon clattered against the porcelain as he moved it through what was left of his tea. “When my parents heard about what was happening, we realized we couldn’t go back. We could never go back to our old lives because they no longer existed.”

  Anja lowered her head, resting her chin on her hand, I could hear her swallow from across the kitchen.

  “My parents loved you Anja, and they never forgot what your family did for us. You saved our lives. But it was just that they thought that after what happened to the others, well, they were afraid that if I returned and tried to become a part of your life… I would ruin it.”

  “Hmm,” Anja tried to say something, but was too choked up to speak, she closed her eyes and held both hands to her face, her chest shook, and a muffled whimper came from somewhere deep inside her. I tried to comfort her, rubbing my hand on her shoulder. She reached up to take hold of my hand and her sorrow soon turned to laughter, “Oh, I’m so embarrassed, I can’t believe I’m carrying on like this,” she shook her head and diverted her eyes while trying to regain her composure. “Of course I would have loved things to have happened differently,” she tipped her head to the side and looked directly at Thomas, “but things do seem to have a way of working themselves out.” Her eyes grew bright and cheery, “You see, I waited all these years for you to return, and, well, here you are.”

  Chapter 27

  “I want to know about your life,” Anja said. “The children speak of their grandmother. It's Klara isn't it?”

  Thomas nodded and started slowly, I could sense his reluctance.

  “Klara, yes, Klara,” he said quietly.

  Klara had arrived in the fo
rest with her family around the same time as Thomas, and like Thomas, she too had been separated from the person she’d considered the love of her life. Klara’s boyfriend Isaac had been drafted into the Army just before her family fled the city, but with no reliable way to communicate they soon lost touch. Fighting grew particularly brutal toward the end of the war and Isaac was killed in battle, it wasn’t until several years later that Klara learned of his death.

  Early on, there were only a few teenagers in the camp and it was inevitable that Klara and Thomas would become friends. When they finally realized things would never be as they had hoped or imagined, they found solace in one another, both willing to accept the fact that they would have to share their future with others from the past. They spent nearly 30 years together and had two daughters, one of whom died before she reached her first birthday, the other was the children’s mother.

  Just before Evie was born, Klara became ill, by the time the doctor realized how far things had advanced it was too late to treat her. “She made us all promise we wouldn’t be sad when she was gone,” Thomas said. “She warned us that she would be watching.” The side of his mouth curled in an attempted smile. He sat for a moment lost in thought, then excused himself and headed to the bathroom.

  I slid a spare chair next to Anja at the table. I waited to hear the door close before I spoke. “Anja! Don’t you see? I think Klara sent him to you.”

  She scrunched up her face and pulled her head back looking at me with confusion, “What on earth are you talking about?”

  “Petra. Their grandmother! The children said their grandmother sent Petra to watch over them, right?”

  Anja nodded slowly.

  “Well, Evie said Petra brought her here. Right?”

  Anja nodded again, her eyes were starting to fill with amusement.

  “And she said her grandma told her she was worried about Thomas. Remember? She said she was worried that he wasn’t happy.”

  Anja looked at me through widened eyes, her mouth was pulled into a smirk, she shook her head.

  “You think I’m crazy, don’t you?” I asked.

  She raised her eyebrows and tilted her head.

  “Anja, how can you? You, of all people?” I took her by the shoulders and gave her a gentle shake. “She sent him! She sent him here to find you!”

  We turned in the direction of the hallway when we heard the door to the bathroom open.

  “Just think about it,” I whispered quickly, “just think about it.”

  “Sh, sh, sh!” she waved her finger in the air toward me, I could tell by the satisfied look on her face that she was at least giving my theory a second thought.

  Thomas reemerged seconds later and seated himself back at the table. “So, ladies, what did I miss?”

  Anja looked at me sternly. I knew she was warning me not to mention what we had just been talking about.

  “Okay, okay,” I mouthed back out of his view, then trying to direct conversation elsewhere, I asked Thomas how they’d possibly managed to stay out in the forest such a long time without being discovered.

  “Well,” Thomas started, cocking his head to the side, “I have my theories.”

  “So, really, no one knows you’re out there?” Anja asked skeptically. “After all these years? Not a hunter? A Hiker? No one?”

  Thomas pushed his hair back with both hands then left them resting on his head, “Not so far,” he answered, “and I wouldn’t necessarily say no one knows we’re there. There’re a few old timers still around who were part of the Resistance or friendly with the partisans, of course they know and probably most of their kids know we’re there.” He dropped his hands to his sides then brought one back up to scratch his neck. “We do try mostly to keep to ourselves though, and all in all I’d say we’ve managed to become pretty self sufficient.”

  “But what really does keep people from finding you?” I asked.

  “Well,” he replied, “it’s a little hard to find something you’re not actually looking for. They didn’t want us around back then, and I’m willing to bet they sure as hell don’t want us to come back now. And besides,” he added with a chuckle, “most of the locals think the place is haunted.”

  “Haunted?” I scoffed, “What on earth are you talking about?”

  “Well, I don’t expect too many people like you would have any idea what really went on out there.”

  Anja stirred her tea slowly “What? What went on?”

  Thomas pressed into his chair, throwing his head back in surprise. “Well, I would have expected you to know what I was talking about.”

  Anja raised her shoulders into a shrug.

  “To put it nicely, a lot of people disappeared into those woods that were never seen again.”

  Anja shook her head, she still seemed confused.

  “I’m talking about the executions.”

  “What executions?” she snapped.

  “During the war, before the war, hell, even after it. I bet there were hundreds of them,” Thomas said, “I don’t know, maybe even thousands.”

  “Oh my God!” Anja gasped before covering her mouth. She gulped hard and looked down, staring at the top of the table, she appeared as though she’d already heard enough, but Thomas continued.

  “From where we were, we could sometimes hear the sounds of the…”

  Anja grabbed hold of his hand and pressed into it tightly, then lifted her finger to her mouth. She looked toward the entry to the hallway. “The children! They might hear you.”

  He nodded and started again in a near whisper.

  “A couple years after the war, after a really wet winter, well, that was when the stuff started coming to the surface.”

  “What stuff? What are you talking about,” I asked.

  “You know, the bodies. Well, parts of bodies, bones, skulls, personal items, clothes, wallets, watches, hairbrushes.”

  Anja squeezed his hand again and shook her head, her complexion was turning ashen and I knew she didn’t want to hear anymore.

  Thomas nodded and then as though he didn’t have the ability to stop himself, continued anyway. “We tried to stay away from it, but it just seemed to be everywhere,” he lowered his head, “the smell alone was horrific, but what we saw out there was far worse. Imagine buzzards and wild animals tearing at the decaying flesh of a…” He stopped himself abruptly, his eyes locked with Anja’s. He had the look on his face of someone that had just awaken and couldn’t quite figure out where they were. He glanced back and forth between us. He was trying to decide if he’d gone too far, if he’d been too descriptive.

  Anja looked at me, she must have realized how anxious I was to hear more, she lowered her eyes then loosened her grip on his hand. “Oh, go ahead, go ahead, I suppose we need to hear the rest.”

  “Well, there’s not much more to it,” Thomas started, “after the locals became aware of the things that had gone on out there, they started claiming to see and hear things. But,” he smirked, “when they thought they were seeing the spirits of the dead, they were probably just seeing us.” A sly smile crossed his face as he chuckled to himself. “After that, people stopped going out there altogether, the kids especially, and I doubt anyone your age,” he lifted his chin in my direction, “would even dare step foot in those woods.”

  Anja pointed to her cup, playing uneasily with the spoon, “Could you be a dear and fill me up?”

  Chapter 28

  Anja was anxious to talk about something else and we moved to the living room while she went looking for an old photo album. She returned frustrated and empty handed and slumped into the sofa next to Thomas. He fidgeted with his back pocket and pulled out a worn leather wallet. “Maybe I have something you’d like to see,” he said as he produced a faded photo.

  A pair of teenagers stared into the camera, their faces fresh, their expressions eager. Initially Anja seemed confused by the picture, she’d never seen it before or at least couldn’t remember it. She peeled back the protective plasti
c cover and rubbed her finger slowly over the image, then laughed quietly to herself. Thomas pressed his head into hers and they leaned into each other, gravity and the weak springs at the center of the sofa pushed them closer together. The years seemed to melt away and the same starry-eyed couple from the photograph sat in front of me on the couch.

  Anja slowly slipped the photo back into its sleeve, she continued to look at it for some time before finally giving it back. We all knew it was getting late but no one dared look at the clock or wonder what time it was. Morning was coming too soon and Thomas expected the tunnel would be dry enough for them to leave before midday as long as it didn’t rain again. There was a noise in the hallway and we all turned to find Lukas rubbing his eyes, staggering slowly toward us. “Gramm… pa?” he said with a startle when he realized Thomas was there. “Where did you come from?” he asked stopping himself at the edge of the living room, not certain whether or not he should advance.

  “Come on over here Skeeter!” Thomas replied holding his hands out toward him.

  Lukas rushed to his grandfather, collapsing into his arms. “But gramm-pa, how’d you find us?”

  Thomas reached into his pocket and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper. Lukas, instantly recognizing his note, hung his head in embarrassment, the skin on the side of his cheeks flushed a dark, blotchy red.

  “Don’t be embarrassed son,” Thomas said. “It was a damn good thing you wrote that note.”

  Lukas sat small and crumpled under the weight of his grandfather’s embrace, the bold confidence he’d exhibited earlier had all but vanished and he seemed content to just be young and vulnerable.

  “I guess we’re probably in real big trouble, aren’t we?” he whispered.

  Thomas squeezed him tight. “We can talk about that later.”