Forbidden Love

by Mary Hagen

  “If you keep telling me, my head will swell and I won’t be able to wear my hat.” Hannah attempted a laugh.

  The small out-of-the-way establishment bustled with men and women who drank and laughed tuning the volume to high. Conversation was impossible. Cigarette smoke filled the air. Penn helped Hannah with her coat and saluted two brown shirts who flirted with their companions at a table not far from them. Men called for refills of beer steins from the comely waitresses. Penn watched one buxom blonde lass hit away a hand that pinched her bottom.

  When the waitress approached them, Penn ordered beer for them, a light supper of soup, bread, and chicken covered with a rich sauce. Hannah turned her back to the brown shirts and straightened a napkin on her lap. Penn read her discomfort, her uneasy sitting forward in her chair, but determined to make the evening memorable for them.

  “You can relax,” he said. “The people in here are interested in themselves and not us.”

  He lifted his stein. “To a better future for us, my love. May we grow old together.”

  With a weak smile, she took a sip of her beer, but he noticed the tautness in her shoulders.

  “Glance around you,” he said. “We are just another couple in this room.”

  She peered at him with tenderness, but her face was a jumble of fear. He reached across the table and touched her lips with his finger. “I won’t allow someone to hurt you. I promise.”

  Ravenously hungry, Penn ate quickly, but Hannah picked at her food. “You’re not hungry?”

  “No. I’m apprehensive. One of those officers keeps looking at me.”

  Penn chuckled. “Because you are beautiful.” Her slight frown informed him his words did not comfort her.

  After finishing with their supper, Penn said, “Now for my next surprise for you. Let’s go.” He pushed away his chair from the table, stood, and helped Hannah with her wrap. On their way past the SS men, one winked at her. Penn smiled at the man but the gleam in his eye warned him away.

  “Heil Hitler.” Penn raised his arm to the two men. He guided Hannah out of the shop onto the busy street. A warm night for November, people strolled along the sidewalk with pauses to study the new designs or clothes, jewelry, and furniture in the brightly lit show windows.

  Instead of going to the Tiergarten to spend the evening, Penn led Hannah to his car.

  “You have more surprises?” Hannah asked. “I thought our time in the shop was the surprise. That is enough for me.”

  Penn smiled. “I do, but you’ll have to be patient.” His heart raced in his chest, apprehensive she might not like his apartment. The surge of desire he had for her almost overwhelmed him. How stupid of the Nazis not to recognize the value of a group of people because of their religion. The Jews weren’t a single race.

  Entering traffic, he maneuvered his vehicle in the direction of the Jewish Quarter. Hannah turned with a question. “Why are we going in the direction of the Jewish Quarter? Have you decided we can park there without danger? That can’t be.”

  He heard alarm in her voice. “Not quite.”

  At a new building, five stories high, built in the style of the Reich Chancellery with straight lines, and narrow windows evenly spaced on each level, Penn made a left-hand turn. The entrance to the structure was in the middle of the front wall with three pillars reaching to the third floor, and above that, the swastika to symbolize the order of Nazi rule. Driving onto a narrow street, Penn entered an underground parking garage.

  “This is it, my surprise for you. I’ve rented an apartment on the second floor. We no longer need to freeze our fingers and toes sitting on a cold bench.” He put his arm around her shoulder and kissed her, his joy having her next to him buried his concerns for the moment.

  “You’ve rented this? Won’t others in the building notice us especially since I’ll only come at night? They might get the wrong impression. So close to the Jewish Quarter.” Hannah frowned.

  “Come on. I’ll answer all your anxieties as soon as we’re settled in our living room with warm tea. I have a key for you.” A laugh of pleasure erupted as he guided Hannah into the elevator for the ride to the second floor. They emerged into a carpeted long hallway with white-painted doors and black numbers. At the third door on the left side, Penn suggested Hannah use the key he gave her. “I’ll show you the stairwell, too. Might be less traffic than on the elevator.”

  “I think I’ll have a problem relaxing,” Hannah said. “But this is a wonderful surprise and such a nice evening spent with you.” Her words were insincere and full of disquiet.

  She unlocked the door and they entered the living room. Penn took her coat and hung it in a closet. “I’ll show you the layout, but first I’ll put on a record for us from America. Hitler allows it. He thinks Americans agree with his Jewish policy, especially President Roosevelt.”

  The apartment appeared larger than it was. The living room and kitchen were one and painted white. Stools were pushed under a black-topped counter with shelves above it dividing the two rooms. The small living room was furnished in the latest fad with white davenport, and two dark blue chairs. The radio and record player sat against a pale blue-painted wall between the chairs.

  Penn drew dark blue curtains across the large window over the kitchen sink and turned the burner on the stove to heat water. “Come, follow me.” He led her to a short hall with a bedroom on each side. The bathroom was at the end. One bedroom was furnished with black lacquered bed with a red and white quilt, dresser and nightstand. Gray rugs covered the floor. In the second bedroom, twin beds with gold-framed mirrors above them sat next to one another separated by a low red-painted wardrobe, and a red velvet chair in one corner.

  “You know, Hannah, red is believed by some to be the color of love.”

  Hannah smiled and squeezed his hand. “Why did anyone leave such a nice apartment with places difficult to find? Were they reported for some reason by a disgruntled neighbor, and sent to Dachau?” Her voice trembled and she glanced over her shoulder at the entrance to the apartment.

  “Not quite that bad. The man was German, his wife Jewish. Rather than divorce, they fled to South America. The manager rented the unit at their request until they decide what to do. They may sell it. In the meantime, we’ll enjoy it.” He stepped close to her, framed her face in his hands and kissed her, his heart pounding. “If you would marry me, we could live together.”

  “That’s not possible. We’d end up like the couple who lived here. You know that.”

  Penn followed her into the living room admiring her dress belted at her tiny waist, the length emphasizing her long shapely legs before returning to the kitchen. While he made tea, she sat on the davenport and studied the paintings on the walls, prints of Italian and French masters. As he waited for the water to boil, his heart sank like a stone. We’re trapped by the Nazis, by our duty to our families, and there is no escape. He gasped to catch his breath.

  “What are your thoughts?” Penn asked, noticing her pained expression. He placed white cups with hot black tea on the white coffee table. “Come, drink your tea.” Holding his breath, he waited for her answers hoping she would not dash his surprise into smithereens. He wanted this for them, a place they could act normal. He gazed into her blue eyes, his desire for her in every bone in his body.

  “I do like it. Of course, I have reservations. I’m not certain I can visit you every evening without raising questions from the other tenants. We’re so close to the Jewish sections of the city. Will others wonder if I’m Jewish?” She stood, walked to the window, and looked out at the street before returning to the coffee table and to pick up her cup. She took one sip and returned to the window.

  “The SS, the Gestapo, the brown shirts, will focus on the Jews, not on this building, giving us a cocoon of protection. I’ve told the manager you’re my fiancée, have a key, and will
visit me.” Penn laughed. “I had to assure the man you’d do no more than visit me.”

  Placing her cup on the table, she checked the lock on the door, disquiet etched in her face. “If we could be like this forever, together enjoying the record player, at peace with each other. I love you so, Penn, but I worry about us. What will the Nazis decide to do to the Jews who stay here? Will there be a war? Will you crash in your plane?” Terror rattled her words. “I have nightmares. I admit, I’m uneasy here. I’m sorry.”

  Gently, he touched her cheek with his finger. “We won’t worry while we’re together.”

  “Still, we’ll have to be secretive because of the Nazis and our parents.”

  He sighed. His mind clouded with the truth of her words. “Hitler cannot last. Neither can his thugs.” This was the woman he loved and because of stupid laws, he could not have her, but she was his reason to live. He could protest, join movements to rid Germany of Hitler, or continue doing nothing admitting his lack of control and a weakness in himself.

  Hannah glanced at her watch, shook her head to straighten her hair, and said, “It’s getting late. I must go home. Dear Penn, this has been such a nice evening. I’ll love you always.” She straightened his tie, her breath warm against his face engulfing him with heat and desire.

  Turning her toward him, he encircled her in is arms. “I don’t want to take you home. I’ll come back to this apartment and my loneliness without you will crush me.” He kissed her, a slow kiss using his tongue to invade her mouth, tasting her, desiring her.

  She pulled away from him. “We have no choice.” She walked to the closet with her head lowered, her eyes averting his, to retrieve her coat. Penn followed behind her, his disillusionment, his frustration, driving him to desperation. “Come here whenever you need to. Never hesitate. Promise me.”

  She did not answer.

  Chapter 5

  Well before daylight, Hannah slipped out of bed and started her heater to warm her room. She crawled under the covers allowing fifteen minutes rest before dressing and leaving the house with Papa to visit patients.

  Whenever Hannah left the house, her life was in danger. She could do nothing to stop the black tide rolling over her and her people. Even her home, the place where she had grown up, no longer provided sanctuary. Her belief in security had been twisted and distorted. She did not understand the prejudice against the Jews and no longer agreed with her father keeping a low profile and obeying the Germans would protect them.

  Hannah did not consider herself religious and wondered if she should classify herself an agnostic. During Chanukah, she observed the time with her family, watched the lighting of candles, and listened to prayers, but she was a skeptic. With the present intolerance of Jews, she could not help questioning the Christian religion too. Weren’t they supposed to be charitable professing brotherly love? She saw none of it. Hitler placed himself next to God and the Germans worshipped him. How could any religions’ God sanction such horrors as she had observed committed against the Jews?

  Turning on her bedside lamp, Hannah dressed in her brown tweed skirt and white shirt freshly washed and ironed by Mrs. Oster, who wanted to be called Ethel, then slipped into a warm wool sweater that matched her skirt. Irritated Papa’s patients could no longer come to their house for safety reasons, she thrust her feet into her ankle high brown leather boots and laced them. With snow threatening the city, she folded her belted tan wool coat over her arm, grabbed her purse, and descended the servants’ stairs to the kitchen.

  She missed her bedroom, the warmth on waking up, having coffee in bed, but they no longer had servants and could not afford to heat their home. Instead coldness closed in on her. Sheets covered furniture, valuables were packed and stored in the attic, and the drapes remained drawn. She gave up her beautiful bedroom and private bathroom to sleep in the attic at her papa’s insistence. In the attic, she had a closet with a hidden door to a small cubbyhole where she could hide if the SS came for them. Ethel slept in the basement with a similar hiding place next to Jacob’s room. The plan did little to restore feelings of safety. The SS would find them, but she had no plans of her own.

  Where are you, dear Jacob? Have you found a safe place? She missed him so much, his teasing, his laugh, trekking with him in the mountains, skiing, but he was wise to leave Germany. She sighed knowing in her heart her parents and she should follow him out of the country, but her papa stubbornly refused. How could he? The only joy left in her life was seeing Penn. He provided her escape from the reality of Germany even if it was only for the moment.

  In the kitchen, she greeted her papa with a kiss to his forehead and poured coffee.

  “I have oatmeal and toast for breakfast.” Ethel picked up a bowl and filled it with cereal. “We’re out of milk and sugar, but I found raisins and added them.”

  Hannah hugged her and sat at the table across from Papa who read over the records of the patients obtained from the pharmacist they would call on in the Jewish Quarter.

  “Oatmeal, how exciting. Who needs sugar and milk?” She hated oatmeal but forced the mush down her throat. At least, they had something to eat. Many of Papa’s patients suffered from lack of nourishment, and he could do little about it. The children broke her heart, especially the ones sent to other countries by their parents, where they might never see each other again. Their parents comprehended the seriousness of living in present day Germany under the Nazis and paid enormous amounts to send their children away. The sadness in the faces of the mothers filled her with grief, and she stopped eating to push away the tears threatening to surface.

  Finished with breakfast, Hannah slipped into her coat, wrapped a light scarf around her neck, and picked up her purse and her papa’s satchel. Together, they sneaked out of the house and to the street. The routine had become natural but gripped her stomach with fearfulness.

  Automobiles backed out of driveways as men left for work. Children, bundled in coats, scarves, and mittens, hurried to school without concerns for the developments in Germany. No one waved or spoke to Hannah and Papa. It never left her mind one of their neighbors might report their activities suspicious and put an end to their trips to see patients.

  If Penn would leave Germany with her, she could follow Jacob out of the country, but his parents would be tortured for information about where he was. The Gestapo would search for Penn and kill him if they found him. Desertions were a crime. The thought sent icy shards through her. Living without Penn would be intolerable. She remained in Germany with her parents and Penn against her better judgement, but what could she do? Inwardly, she cursed her papa’s patients, his Jews, putting their welfare above his family.

  They sat in the back of the tram on the ride to the Jewish section and were the last out of the conveyance. Men opened shops, many of them with boarded windows, to sell what few supplies they had. Children rushed to Jewish schools, no longer accepted in Aryan. A group of five or six Orthodox Jews, bearded and in black coats, passed them reading and mumbling words as they walked.

  Before visiting patients, they stopped at the pharmacy to check for the names of patients needing their attention. The pharmacist, Konrad Felton, met them with a list, his face sober. “We had more trouble with the SS last night,” he said. “If this keeps up, they will destroy my whole business.”

  “That’s their intention,” Dr. Dresser said. “How is Mrs. Felton?”

  “Terrified out of her mind. She no longer wants to help me in the shop. Not that I blame her. We never know when the Gestapo or the SS will show their ugly faces. She fidgets and is agitated the whole time she is here.” Mr. Felton brushed some broken glass from his counter. “I haven’t had time to clean up the mess they left last night. I apologize.”

  “I can use some bandages, iodine, aspirin,” Dr. Dresser said.

  “I’m low on most items, but I’ve located a black market so sh
ould have more next week.” He bagged the items but did not mention a price. Papa dug in his pocket and paid what he could with money he still received from a farm he owned in Italy. Hannah suspected he also had more money saved for emergencies than he let on.

  They said their goodbyes. The devastation from the actions of the SS the night before was everywhere. Store owners swept away broken glass from doors and nailed wood and cardboard over display window. Women rubbed and scraped painted anti-Jew slogans from glass that was not broken, but the activity was quiet.

  People nodded to Hannah and her father as they walked to a narrow street with drab apartment buildings on each side. No swastika banners flew from the windows, but the brick wall at the end of the dead-end street was marked with a large yellow star followed by the word ‘Jude.’

  Papa raised his fist and shook it in anger at the word. “The Germans have lost their minds. I wonder if the psychologists have answers for such hate.” He entered the building on the left side of the street. The building smelled of stale cabbage mixed with onions, but most of the rooms were quiet. Hannah followed her father to the third floor and the third door.

  “Mrs. Stein is suffering from headaches and a runny nose. Her cough has worsened and I’m concerned she may have a serious case of bronchitis.” Papa shook his head. “All I have to give her is some aspirin. I feel we do little more than give them comfort.”

  Hannah nodded in agreement and knocked on the door. A small, pretty girl of about four let them in. Her dress and sweater were clean but worn, her hair was combed, and she wore light slippers, unsuitable for the cold weather. Little heat warmed the small apartment. Mrs. Stein lay on the couch covered with blankets.

  “Thank you for coming, Herr Doctor.”

  “How are you feeling?” He picked up her arm and checked her pulse. Hannah opened his satchel, handed him his stethoscope, and he listened to her chest. The little girl leaned against the arm of the couch at her mother’s feet.