Mercer Street (American Journey Book 2)

by John A. Heldt

  "Is something humorous?" Erich asked.

  "No," Susan said. "We're just all in a good mood."

  "I see."

  "We don't entertain much. Please excuse our enthusiasm."

  "There's nothing to excuse," Ella said. "Your enthusiasm is uplifting. We would much rather spend an evening in a house of laughter and smiles than in a house of sorrow and tears. We heard precious little laughter in Vienna this year."

  "That's understandable," Susan said.

  "I suppose it is."

  Elizabeth smiled as she soaked up the conversation. She could not have asked for a better evening, even if it was an evening that she had not anticipated or even agreed to.

  "I think we're done talking, Mom," Susan said. "You can deal at any time."

  "I will in a minute," Elizabeth said. "I will after everyone refreshes their drinks."

  "OK," Susan said. "Everyone fill their glasses."

  Elizabeth watched closely as Susan poured some Old Jersey No. 10 in her tumbler and started the bottle around the table. When the fifth finally reached the dealer, she poured what was left of the rotgut into her glass and then set the bottle to the side.

  Elizabeth looked at Susan, Amanda, and Dot and then at Erich and Ella. She raised her glass to the messy baby and then to the adults.

  "Here's a toast to neighbors, friends, and family," Elizabeth said. "May they give us laughter, smiles, and strength and remind us that life is about living."

  Six glasses clinked and several people spoke.

  "Hear, hear."

  CHAPTER 33: AMANDA

  Wednesday, January 11, 1939

  Sitting again in the back row of the Mercer Auditorium, Amanda scanned the public hall for empty seats, found none, and pondered the difference of ten years.

  In 1929 the military attaché from the German embassy in D.C. drew an audience of barely a hundred. He did so because he represented the peaceful, predictable Weimar Republic and talked about trade, debt, and other things that put most people to sleep.

  In 1939 the same man drew a packed house. He did so because he represented a Nazi regime that had just annexed Austria and parts of Czechoslovakia and talked about treaty violations, miscalculations, and other things that kept most people awake.

  Amanda knew that Colonel Heinrich Schmidt had fared poorly in Princeton ten years earlier because she had spoken to a man who had heard him speak. She had learned in a matter of minutes that nothing defined a person or an event like context.

  When Schmidt began explaining the reasons for Germany's recent military build-up, Amanda turned away to look at others. She looked at Elizabeth and Dot, who sat to her left, and to Susan and Admiral Hicks, who sat to her right. All seemed riveted to both the speaker and his uncomfortable message.

  Amanda didn't need to ask her grandmother why she had come to the hall. She knew that Elizabeth wanted to see the face of the regime that had driven her family from Austria and now threatened to disrupt the rest of Europe.

  She didn't need to ask Dot why she had come either. Dorothy Gale wanted to see what Amanda wanted to see – a six-foot blond who, for some reason, had exited the stage after Clark Abercrombie, Nassau Institute director, had introduced the speaker.

  Amanda knew that Susan and Jack had their own reasons for attending the lecture, ranging from interest in the subject to interest in each other. She figured it was only a matter of time before their working relationship turned into something more personal.

  She had mixed thoughts about that. She liked seeing her mother mingling with others, but she didn't like seeing her on the arm of a man who wasn't Bruce Peterson. She had not yet reached the point where she could psychologically bury her father.

  Amanda returned her attention to the stage as the speaker, a tall, good-looking man of fifty-two, defended Germany's annexation of the Sudetenland. She didn't know how anyone, in good conscience, could justify Nazi belligerence, but she conceded that Schmidt was doing a fair job. He made even the obscene seem defensible.

  Amanda wondered how any German could succeed in peddling such nonsense until she remembered she was in 1939 and not 2016. She lived in an age where news magazines named Adolf Hitler their man of the year and many officials, celebrities, and firms conducted business with the Nazis. Hitler had succeeded in fooling the world because the world did not yet know the depths of his depravity.

  The time traveler watched with interest as Schmidt thoroughly and methodically made the case for a stronger, more aggressive, and more independent Germany. For forty minutes she listened to his words, watched the audience, and tried to gauge whether he was making any progress with a group that was arguably brighter than most.

  Amanda applauded politely when Schmidt finished his remarks, but she decided she could not let him leave the building without making him sweat. So when Schmidt told the audience that he would field a few questions, Amanda got out of her seat.

  "Where are you going?" Susan asked.

  "I'm going to ask the speaker a question," Amanda replied.

  Amanda looked at the others in her party and saw everything from support to concern to bewilderment on their faces. Admiral Hicks and Elizabeth smiled. Susan frowned. Dot shot Amanda a glance that said: "What in the hell are you doing?"

  Amanda stepped around Elizabeth and Dot and continued down their row of seats. When she reached the aisle, she straightened her dark blue dress, smiled at her family, and proceeded toward a microphone that had been set up in the aisle about ten rows from the stage. She reached the end of a short line of questioners a moment later.

  Four of the first nine questioners asked Schmidt about Germany's intentions in central Europe. Three more inquired about the nation's defense buildup. Two others asked about prospects for peace in the coming year. All sought answers to questions that related to military and foreign policy. Amanda sought an answer to something else.

  She waited for the ninth questioner to return to his seat, sighed, and then stepped to the microphone. She greeted the speaker warmly and then let him have it.

  "My question, Colonel Schmidt, is more domestic in nature. Several weeks ago, paramilitary groups in Germany and Austria destroyed thousands of Jewish synagogues, homes, and businesses and killed as many as a hundred innocent citizens in a series of unprovoked attacks. German authorities, I've read, did nothing to stop the attacks and, in fact, may have encouraged them. Why should we trust German leaders to act responsibly toward the world at large when they can't act responsibly toward their own people?"

  Amanda smiled as half of the audience cheered wildly. She frowned when she saw many others shake their heads, mutter in disgust, or throw daggers at her with their eyes.

  Schmidt turned red. Amanda could not tell whether he was rattled by her question or the audience's reaction to her question, but she could tell he was shaken. He clearly did not expect a five-foot-five-inch blonde who looked like she had just emerged from a sorority function to ask a sensitive question about human rights abuses.

  "Thank you for your question," Schmidt said in nearly perfect English. "I appreciate your concern about the events of last November. As a diplomat and a person who has lived in the United States for the past seventeen years, I am neither authorized nor qualified to speak at length about domestic German affairs. I can tell you that I too read the papers and was dismayed by what I read. I hope that you and other Americans will not hold an entire nation responsible for the unfortunate actions of a few."

  Amanda started to ask a follow-up question but was cut off before she could utter a word. She watched in frustration as Clark Abercrombie replaced Schmidt at the lectern, thanked the speaker for his time, and reminded the audience about the next lecture.

  Amanda sighed as she watched Abercrombie lead the colonel off the stage. She knew they were already headed to a reception where Kristallnacht would not be discussed. She mulled the irritating situation until a woman with a familiar voice brought her out of a daze.

  "I must say you know how to
liven up a party."

  Amanda turned around and saw Dot.

  "You didn't like my question?" Amanda asked.

  "It was OK," Dot said. "You certainly grabbed the attention of the guys in the front row. I think half of them want to marry you for simply showing some spine."

  Amanda smiled.

  "They don't want a woman with spine. They want a woman who can cook up a storm in the kitchen and the bedroom."

  Dot laughed.

  "I suppose you're right. It doesn't matter. You didn't come to see them," Dot said. She pointed to the stage. "You came to see him."

  Amanda turned around and gazed at Kurt, from close range, for the first time in five weeks. She watched intently as he turned off the microphone, wrapped a short electrical cord, and started to push the lectern off the stage.

  "You're right," Amanda said. "I came to see him. Let's go."

  Amanda grabbed Dot's hand and weaved around several people to the bottom of the aisle. She reached the edge of the stage just as Kurt wheeled the lectern out of sight.

  "You think he's coming back?" Dot asked.

  Amanda nodded.

  "He's coming back. He saw us."

  Amanda was right. Thirty seconds after making her bold prediction, she saw Kurt step back onto the stage, pick up a slip of paper, and then walk toward his two biggest fans.

  "Hello, ladies," Kurt said.

  "Hi," Amanda and Dot replied in near unison.

  "I didn't see you in the front row tonight."

  "That's because we arrived late again," Amanda said. "How come you didn't sit on the stage with the director and the speaker? We looked for you."

  "I had to cater to others offstage," Kurt said. "Our lecturer came with a security detail."

  "I can see why."

  "What do you mean?"

  "I mean he expressed views that didn't sit well with much of the audience," Amanda said. "I don't think many people believe it's OK to annex a country simply because you feel like it."

  "So you didn't like his lecture?" Kurt asked.

  "I didn't say that. I said I didn't like his message."

  Dot tugged lightly on the back of Amanda's dress. She clearly wanted to send a message to her friend that she had come to flirt and not to argue.

  "I agree that much of what he said is controversial, but I don't think it was all that much different than what Admiral Hicks said last month," Kurt said.

  "Really?" Amanda asked. "I think it was night-and-day different."

  Kurt slid off the stage and walked up to the women.

  "How so?" Kurt asked. "I seem to recall that Admiral Hicks advocated building up his country's military too. Like Colonel Schmidt and many other speakers we've had, he said the world is a much safer place when there is a balance of power."

  "It's not the same thing."

  "Why is it not the same thing?"

  "Why? Because it's not, that's why," Amanda said. She could feel her blood pressure rising. "Admiral Hicks wants to keep America safe from foreign invaders. Colonel Schmidt wants to keep Germany safe from foreign meddlers."

  "He didn't say that."

  "He did in so many words. He complained about British and French 'interference' and said that Germany needed a 'sphere of influence' just like America. He said that at least two or three times. I listened to the whole speech."

  "So did I," Kurt said. "Trust me when I say that Colonel Schmidt has a broader view of these matters than you think he does."

  Amanda ignored another tug on her dress and stepped forward.

  "I don't know why you defend him. He didn't say anything I couldn't have read in a German newspaper. He wasn't very candid either."

  "You really think so?"

  "Yes," Amanda said. "He didn't even try to address my question about Kristallnacht. He just dismissed the event as 'unfortunate' and handed the microphone to Dr. Abercrombie."

  "He's a representative of the German government," Kurt said. "What did you expect him to say?"

  "I expected him to do more than tout the party line. I expected him to engage his audience – his American audience – honestly and responsibly."

  "I think he did."

  "He didn't," Amanda said. "He didn't at all. He came across as a hack."

  "He's not a hack," Kurt said. "He's a diplomat."

  "He's a Nazi apologist!"

  Kurt sighed.

  "He's my father."

  CHAPTER 34: AMANDA

  Thursday, January 12, 1939

  Amanda peeked in the window, noted everything she saw, and assessed the situation. She knew she would find Kurt Schmidt inside the Dairy Diner and would probably find him alone, but she wanted to learn as much as possible before approaching him with her hat in her hand.

  She surveyed the restaurant and spied him eating a burger. When she was certain that the empty chair at his table did not belong to someone else, she walked to the door, slipped inside, and moved slowly through the diner until she reached the object of her attention.

  "Hi," Amanda said.

  Kurt looked up and lowered his burger to his plate.

  "Hello."

  "An intern at the Institute said I could find you here. Do you mind if I join you?"

  "I suppose that depends on why you want to join me," Kurt said.

  "I want to apologize for my behavior last night."

  "Then please sit."

  Amanda sat in the empty chair and looked at Kurt for a few seconds as she tried to think of something to say. She found it difficult to maintain eye contact.

  "I came here to say that I am sorry for leaving in a huff after the lecture. It was wrong and thoughtless and deeply inconsiderate. I apologize."

  Kurt smiled.

  "I'm the one who should apologize."

  "Why?" Amanda asked. "You did nothing wrong."

  "I did though," Kurt said. "I didn't tell you about my father when I had the chance."

  Amanda sighed. She couldn't take issue with that. Kurt could have saved them both a lot of grief by sharing a few details about his family.

  "Why didn't you?"

  Kurt smiled sadly.

  "I didn't because I was afraid you would react as you did. Most people treat me differently when they learn I am the son of a 'Nazi apologist.'"

  Amanda winced.

  "I'm sorry I said that. I could have picked better words."

  "There's no need to apologize. You made a judgment based on what you heard in a speech," Kurt said. "My father is an apologist for his government, but he is also a capable diplomat, a war hero, and an honorable man."

  Amanda widened her eyes.

  "He's a war hero?"

  Kurt nodded.

  "He was one of the most decorated pilots in the Luftstreitkräfte, or German Air Force. He downed more than thirty aircraft in 1917 alone. Only Captain von Richthofen, Ernst Udet, and Erich Löwenhardt recorded more kills in the Great War."

  Amanda caught only half of the German that whizzed past her ears, but she caught enough to get Kurt's point. Heinrich Schmidt was part of an elite fraternity that included Manfred von Richthofen, the Red Baron, the greatest fighter pilot of all time.

  "So how did he end up here?" Amanda asked. "How did he get into diplomacy?"

  Kurt took a sip of water.

  "My father wanted to make the world a better place. He had grown weary of death and destruction and wanted to promote peace through diplomacy, trade, and mutual understanding. When he had an opportunity to be a part of the Weimar Republic's first diplomatic mission to the United States, he took it. He has served in the embassy in Washington since 1922."

  "So D.C. really is your home?"

  Kurt nodded.

  "I've lived in America since I was six. I went to school here, attended college here, and hope to remain here. In many ways, I'm as American as you."

  "That explains a lot," Amanda said. "It explains, among other things, why you don't have an accent and why you seem so at ease in your surroundings. I never would have
guessed that you were German or anything other than an American."

  "Now you know."

  Amanda smiled at Kurt. She liked this guy. She liked him a lot, but she felt uneasy about forming a friendship with the son of a man who represented one of the vilest regimes in history.

  "Do you mind if I ask you more questions?" Amanda asked.

  "No," Kurt said.

  "I don't mean to pry. I really don't. It's just that I've never met anyone like you and don't know how to proceed."

  "In other words, you're trying to decide whether I'm worth your time."

  Amanda laughed.

  "You might say that."

  "Then ask away," Kurt said.

  Amanda sighed.

  "I guess what I need to know is how you feel about your government," Amanda said. "I'm not like some people in the audience last night. I'm not indifferent toward Hitler."

  Kurt did not respond immediately. He instead looked around the diner, as if checking for eavesdroppers, and then paused for a moment before returning to Amanda.

  "I despise the Nazis and all they represent," Kurt said in a hushed tone. "They are a cancer on the face of humanity, a blight that must be removed at the earliest opportunity."

  Amanda smiled.

  "I suspected you felt that way."

  "I have hated them since the beginning."

  "What about your father?" Amanda asked. "What does he think of the Nazis?"

  Kurt sighed.

  "My father does not speak to me about domestic politics. He speaks only about his love of Germany and his duties as a citizen and a patriot."

  "Is he a Nazi party member?"

  Kurt shook his head.

  "He declined the opportunity when Hitler assumed power."

  "Didn't that tick off the Nazis?" Amanda asked.

  "It did," Kurt said. "Some officials wanted to recall my father to Berlin, but they decided to let him stay. They apparently didn't want to explain to their many critics why they removed a war hero from such an important post."

  "What does your mother think of Hitler?"

  "She is like my father. She does not discuss politics with me."

  "How about your siblings?" Amanda asked. "I assume you have some. Are they like you?"