by Liz Tolsma
A blush crept up her neck. “Ja. This is Mit . . . um, Josep.”
“Not the little girls?”
She shook her head.
“That is too bad.” The soldier leaned on his crutches and stuck out his right hand, examining Mitch. “SS, is that so?”
Mitch nodded. “Ja.” He shook the man’s hand, though the soldier’s perusal made him uncomfortable. “Any needs? We have to find the kinder.”
“Go, look for them. I will keep my eyes open.”
Gisela stomped her feet and hugged the child to her. Her forehead furrowed and indecision crossed her face. When she was little, she must have brought home all kinds of lost animals. Mitch didn’t want this German soldier joining their group. One was more than enough. The time had come to move on.
Mitch nudged Gisela with his shoulder. “Then let’s go.” Not waiting for an answer, he trudged off. In a moment, he heard light footsteps squeaking in the snow behind him.
Both of them raised their voices, hoping for the girls to answer them. He checked around them for a little red hat and a little blue one.
The boy began to cry, his wail building with each passing minute. If the girls did answer them, they would never hear. Mitch stopped, took the baby and slung him over his shoulder. His arms ached from hanging on to the side of the train, but he galloped in a semi-horse-like fashion and the child quieted.
They had almost reached the end of the passenger cars. “You said Kurt handed the girls through a window?”
“Ja. I don’t remember which one.”
“So they wouldn’t have been in a boxcar?”
“Nein, he would never do that.” Her words were sharp.
“I’m only trying to glean any information that will help us find them.”
Her shoulders slumped.
They marched along. She was young and fit but fell behind him, even though he carried the boy. The boy who smelled like his nappy needed to be changed. She looked more deliberately, more carefully than he did. He scanned the crowds faster.
“Annelies! Renate!”
Their cries met nothing but silence.
Gisela and Mitch had almost reached the end of the crowd. They dared go no farther, no closer to the train. There might be more ammunition that would explode. Her heart beat with a wild rhythm for a moment, then stopped altogether for a few more before resuming its untamed ride.
Where could the girls be? Were they even alive? Please, God, let them have had a kind soul to help them. May they be safe. May they be alive.
Mitch marched on, not looking hard enough. A quick scan of the area satisfied him. But not her. They needed to make a thorough search of each and every person that had been on that train. Two girls didn’t disappear into thin air, no matter how small they were.
She left Mitch’s side, the boy crying again, and picked her way over and around people, refusing to let herself think of them as the dead bodies they were. “Annelies! Renate! Where are you?”
A hand tugged at the coat she wore—the dead woman’s much warmer coat.
She spun to find an older man. “Can I help you?” She had nothing to offer him.
“Fritz? Oh, that is my Fritz. My grandson.”
The little one wiggled and held his hands out to the older man. “Opa. Opa.”
“God bless you, fräulein. I don’t know where his mother, my daughter-in-law, is, but I found him.” The man buried his head in the little boy’s neck.
Gisela couldn’t wipe the smile from her face if she wanted to. “He was alone on the train.”
“Danke, danke. My sweet boy. How can I ever repay you?”
“Only if you help me find my nieces.” Since they called her tante, she might as well claim them as such, not just as cousins.
“Ja?”
She gave him a description of the girls.
“One you say is Renate?”
“Ja. Do you know where they are?”
“I remember Renate because that is my daughter-in-law’s name.” He swallowed a few times.
She crossed her arms and hugged herself. Was he preparing her for what he had to say? She squeezed herself hard.
Mitch drew her close. “Where are they? What happened to them?”
FOURTEEN
The crackle of the fire burning the train and the crunch of footsteps in the snow whooshed in Gisela’s ears. Even if the news from this old man was bad, she needed to hear it. Now.
“Bitte, if you know where they are, tell me.” She scanned around them, but no sign of Annelies and Renate. The bile she had tamped down earlier rose in her throat.
The little boy, Fritz, squirmed in his opa’s arms, still sucking the three middle fingers of his small hand. The man, shivering, smacked his tongue against the roof of his mouth a few times. “Saw two pretty ladies with them heading in that direction.” He pointed to the farm in the distance and the river of people streaming that way. “They were afraid to go back on the train, but the girls needed to be somewhere warm. Told me that if I saw a young woman with a green daisy scarf I was to tell you where they went.”
The description fit. Did she dare to hope?
All proper social convention long since abandoned, she hugged the old man, almost knocking him and Fritz to the ground. She steadied him, then kissed him on the cheek. “Danke, danke.”
“I am glad I could repay the favor.”
With her throat burning and aching, she kissed Fritz goodbye. Before her heart broke, she spun on her heel and set out across the white expanse.
Mitch tramped in the snow behind her. “Is this a good idea?”
She kept her focus on the farm. The frosty vastness of fields and small groves of trees stretched out before them, leading to a tiny village, the white houses all red roofed. “What choice do we have?”
“If the Russians return, we are exposed out here.”
“Those girls are my responsibility. If you don’t want to come, don’t. Whether or not you join me, I’m going to that barn. I’m the one who left them alone on the train. I’m the one who has to retrieve them. Before the train leaves.”
“Calm down. It’s not going anywhere for a while. Maybe never.”
“I heard talk they are sending another engine from Stettin. An engine alone should travel quickly and be here in a matter of hours. If you want to stay here, that’s fine. I’m going to find the girls before it arrives.”
“Even knowing what might happen.”
She stopped and spun around. Mitch had been following in her shadow and ran into her when she halted. He reached his hand out and wrapped it around her to stop her from falling. How could he smell so manly when there was probably no cologne left in the entire country?
“Even knowing what might happen. Especially knowing what might happen.”
Mitch released his grasp and stepped forward. “Then let’s find the others and get back to the train.”
“You’re coming with me?”
“Why not?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. I didn’t think you would. You have to get back to the Allies. A woman with two missing children and two AWOL senile ladies is holding you back.”
He motioned to the train behind them. “That doesn’t matter. I’m not going west anytime soon. Besides, for little girls, Annelies and Renate are pretty swell.”
She leaned away from him and took a good look. His face remained serious. But weren’t soldiers trained not to give away their emotions?
“I want to.”
“Fine. Then let’s go.” She picked up her pace.
Right alongside of her, he laughed. “You’re a tough bird.”
She didn’t feel tough. The few contents of her stomach agitated like butter in a churn.
What would she do if they didn’t find the girls? The man might have confused them with someone else. He might have pointed them in the wrong direction.
How would she ever tell Ella that she had lost her children?
Audra sat shivering in the snow, Bettina an
d Katya standing nearby. The feeling of Kurt’s body on top of hers while the tiefflieger fired on them hadn’t faded. A wonderful dream combining with a bad nightmare.
“Are you hurt?” He touched her shoulder, a charge like electricity zinging up her arm, nearly stopping her heart, and she jumped.
He kept his distance this time. “I’m sorry to have frightened you. I only meant to protect you from the shooting. That Russian aimed for whatever moved.”
“It’s what they do. What they always do. They want to kill and maim as many as possible.” She clutched her hands to her chest.
“You are trembling. Come on. It’s warmer on the train.”
She gave her head a vigorous shake. “I’m not going back on there.” She never wanted to be in such close quarters again.
“Why not?”
Bettina bent over, hands on her thighs. “She doesn’t like crowds or small spaces.”
“Is that true?” Kurt towered over her.
Katya had to insert herself into the conversation. “Every bit of it. Dietrich is afraid just the same way. He always said it made his heart flutter. Where did that brother of ours go, anyway?”
The old woman spun in a circle. Gisela had told Audra about the Holtzmanns’ brother. Katya searched for the sibling she would never find. Audra studied the tamped-down snow. “You will see him later.”
“He always did like to go exploring on his own. He must have gone off to the Louvre.”
Kurt blew out what sounded like an exasperated breath. “What about that farm? We have to get inside and get warm.”
True. Darkness would soon descend and Bettina and Katya would die if they had to spend the night outside. Kurt stood and offered his hand to her. She declined the invitation, not wanting his touch to upset her balance, and rose to her feet on her own. The horde of people who had packed every available inch on the inside and outside of the train strung out across the ground.
She looked to the skies. All quiet. For now.
Kurt kept pace with her. “What about your family?”
Did he ever stop prying? “Why do you want to know?”
“I’m making idle conversation to pass the time.”
“I don’t like idle conversation.”
“So I’ve gathered. I’m trying to change that.”
“If I tell you about my family, will you stop asking questions?”
“Maybe. You told me you had nine siblings, but not how many of each.” A hint of a grin softened his sharp features.
“I had six brothers and three sisters. Two of my brothers have died and one of my sisters.” If she didn’t think too much about what she said, it didn’t hurt. “Does that satisfy your curiosity?”
“Older or younger?”
“All younger. I left home because there was nothing for me there. My parents were always busy with the other children. There was never enough to go around. I want more. So much more.”
The cold wind whipped up, biting her face. What a wonder it would be to be warm. “Now you must tell me about your family.”
A muscle jumped in his jaw. “A much quieter household. I am the only child.”
“What did you do before the war?”
“You thought I was inquisitive.”
“If I have to answer questions, so do you.”
“I asked them. I never said you had to answer.”
“Don’t change the rules now.”
He clamped his jaw shut, then released the pressure. “I was a pianist. Set to travel to New York to play in Carnegie Hall.”
She stared at his empty sleeve. To go to New York, he must have been very talented. And now . . . He would never get to play there. Or anywhere. “New York. Broadway wouldn’t be quite like Hollywood, but it would be good. I would like to go there one day too.”
She almost missed the ladies’ chatter when they fell silent. The cold made it too difficult to talk. They passed old people and little children struggling in the snow. She wished she could help. It would be pointless.
Up ahead, against the pallid ground, she spotted a little blue pointed hat and a little red one, both familiar to her.
No adult held their hands. No one offered them assistance. Where was Gisela? What happened to them?
She pointed her mittened hand in their direction. “Look at those hats. Just like Annelies’s and Renate’s. I think they are alone.”
Kurt shook his head. “That cannot be them.”
“What happened to Gisela?”
“She wasn’t in the same carriage. The two women who gave us the knockwurst pulled them inside the train.”
Audra’s stomach churned. She chewed on her bottom lip as she picked up her pace, Kurt following, dragging the old women with him. With each step, she grew more frustrated at their lack of progress. As they neared the farmhouse, she ran, heedless of the three behind her.
“Annelies.” Audra tapped her shoulder.
The older child tugged on her sister’s hand and pulled her in close, her gray eyes wide. Audra pulled her hood from her face.
A grin spread across Annelies’s features like light at sunrise. “Tante Audra.”
“Tante Audra.” Renate mimicked her sister.
Kurt came puffing beside her with the old ladies. “Where are the women who took you on the train?”
Annelies’s smile drooped and the sunshine fled. “They fell down in the snow and wouldn’t get up.”
Like so many others. The bitter cold killed them.
Audra turned to Kurt. He scrubbed his whiskers with his hand.
Annelies pulled on Audra’s heavy blue skirt. “Where is Tante Gisela?”
Audra knelt so she was at eye level with the girl. “We know she was on the train but not in your carriage. She will catch up to you soon. Would you like to go with us to the farm to warm up?”
Her lip trembling, Annelies stared at Audra.
“Don’t worry. Tante Gisela will find you in the barn, maybe even before we get there. I will hold your hand and watch out for you.”
Annelies reached out her hand, encased in a blue mitten, hesitated a moment, then slipped it into Audra’s. She clutched the child’s fingers and picked up Renate.
The six of them tramped across the fields, tripping from time to time on the furrows hidden below the white blanket. Annelies lifted her short legs as high as she could, but their pace slowed as she tired. Renate fell asleep on Audra’s shoulder.
She had attempted to sound cheery and optimistic for Annelies’s sake, but Audra worried about the tiny odds they would find Gisela in the mob. And what about Josep? The train left a swarm of people on the platform as it pulled from the Danzig bahnhof.
What would she do with the kinder if they didn’t find Gisela? Or if Gisela wasn’t alive? Audra had no idea where to take them. Gisela had mentioned she was headed to Berlin, but beyond that, Audra didn’t know.
Despite the exercise, the brisk air bit through Audra’s thin coat. Her fingers, ears, and toes were all frozen. Here, too, just as on the Frische Haff, the old and the young succumbed to the elements. She stopped and rubbed Annelies’s arms and hands to keep the blood flowing. The child’s nose was bright red.
Renate stirred on her shoulder. Good, she hadn’t frozen to death. What would they do if the girls got frostbite or hypothermia?
They said no more until they approached the farmyard. A low stone wall surrounded the house and barn. A stork’s nest, a couple of meters in diameter, rose on a pole high above the scarlet roof. The house’s white stucco exterior blended into the snowy background.
Of course, they should have known there wouldn’t be enough room in the home or the adjoining barn for all of them. A lucky few crammed into the dwelling, their faces peering from a bevy of windows, while others spilled out from the arched doorway.
Someone had built a fire in the middle of the farmyard, in the corner created by the L-shaped barn and house, protected from the wind. The crowd stood many, many deep. Those on the outskirts must not even b
e able to feel the fire’s heat. Audra imagined the barn would be equally as crowded.
She patted Renate’s back as she spoke to Kurt. “Now what?”
He shook his head. “I don’t know. We will search for Gisela and Josep here. Then we should return to the train. We can get on one of the cars, stay warm, and not miss it when it leaves.”
“Nein.” She couldn’t make herself get back in that sardine can.
It had blown up once.
It might again.
FIFTEEN
Kurt stood in the farmyard, wanting to stomp his feet. So he did. Audra would think he stamped them from the cold, not from her stubborn declaration that she wouldn’t return to the train.
He had taken Renate from her. Now his arm had gone to sleep, the weight of the child on his shoulder cutting off his circulation. If he possessed two good hands like God intended, he could have traded positions. Instead, he had to rouse the girl and slide her to the ground. “We’ll argue the train part when the time comes. If I can get up each day and face life without an arm, you can get on a train. Right now I’m going to look for Gisela. Stay here and let everyone get warm.”
Worry gnawed in the pit of his stomach. They had to find her. Without her, he would never hear the music again. His life would never have beauty or wonder. Or meaning.
Her daisy scarf should help her to stand out in the throng. But what a throng it was. Even with such a bright article of clothing, it would be difficult to impossible to locate her.
Kurt pushed his way into the crowd of women gathered around the fire. Some of them chatted like this was a Sunday social. Some stood with sullen faces, beaten and dejected. “Excuse me, have you seen a woman with a bright green scarf?”
One of the ladies pointed to the other side of the fire. “I think I saw a woman with one over there.”
Could it really be this easy? He had heard that with God, nothing was impossible—except maybe growing a new arm—so he pushed and shoved his way around the huddled group. He spotted the scarf almost immediately. The woman, her face leathery and tanned, was most definitely not Gisela.
Just as he had suspected, it was too good to be true. Still, it wouldn’t hurt to ask. “I’m sorry to bother you. Have you seen a woman with a green scarf?”
