“Perfect! Heinrich, you couldn’t find a better wife, I’m proud of you. She’s young, athletic, beautiful, just a perfect set of Aryan features, all in one girl. When are you getting married?”
“As soon as you sign our papers, Herr Reichsführer.”
“I’ll sign them tomorrow morning. And don’t make me wait too long for the wedding.”
“Of course, Herr Reichsführer.”
On the way home I couldn’t say anything in front of Heinrich’s driver, Hanz, but I felt such an overwhelming desire to spill my emotions in one monologue that I asked Heinrich to stop by his apartment “for a drink.” It was not too far from our house and even though he was a little surprised by such a request, he told Hanz to wait in the car and escorted me upstairs.
As soon as Heinrich let me inside, the first thing I did was whisper-scream at him (even though I was extremely emotional, I still didn’t want to get him or myself in trouble, and you never know who might be listening through the walls).
“What is those people’s problem?! I felt like a dog at an exhibition! I swear to God, the only thing they didn’t do was open my mouth and look at my teeth! And do you know what? I wouldn’t have been surprised if they did!!! What am I, a breeding horse?”
“I thought you said you were a dog.” Heinrich laughed, and after taking my coat off, went to the bar. “What do you want to drink?”
“I don’t know. Red wine, I guess. Any alcohol will do at this point!”
“Oh, come on, that wasn’t so bad. They loved you.”
“Heinrich, it’s humiliating! They were discussing me as if I was an animal, not a person! Oh, let’s cross this female with this male, they both look good, they’re going to give good quality offspring!”
Heinrich chuckled again and filled two glasses with wine.
“Do you find it funny?!”
“No, I’m sorry, it’s not funny, you’re right.”
“Then stop laughing, for God’s sake!”
“I’m laughing about what you said about the offspring, not the situation.” He raised his glass and winked at me. “To our good quality offspring!”
This time I couldn’t contain a smile even though I tried. It did sound very funny after all.
“Your offspring is not going to be so purebred, Herr Standartenführer. It’s going to be half Jewish.”
“And your offspring is going to be half German, Fräulein Meissner.”
“Touché.”
We both took a sip from our glasses, and I looked around. I’d never been to Heinrich’s apartment before and was very curious about it.
“So this is where we’re going to live after we get married?”
“No. This is just a temporary place my office gave me right after my return from France. The Party is giving us a house as a wedding present.”
“A house?” I’d never heard about the Party being so generous before. “That’s quite a present, I have to admit. Are they building it or it’s an existing house?”
“An existing house. I’ve seen it already, it’s almost as big as your father’s. You’ll love it.”
“Where did the Party get it from?”
“I don’t know. Maybe the previous owners died, maybe they moved, who knows. I thought you were really craving alcohol, why aren’t you drinking?”
“Last time you got me drunk, we ended up in the snow and almost got arrested by the Gestapo.”
“I liked that.” Heinrich moved closer to me. “Did I tell you how beautiful you look tonight?”
“Several hundred times, yes.”
“Well, here’s several hundreds and one: you look absolutely breathtaking.” He slightly touched my cheek and slowly traced his fingers down to my neck and then picked up the little golden necklace he gave me for my birthday so many years ago. “I can’t believe you’re still wearing it.”
“Of course, I’m wearing it.” I smiled. “You gave it to me. I never took it off since.”
Heinrich looked at the pendant for another second, and I could swear I knew what he was thinking: his wife, who was now dead, picked it up for me. Suddenly I remembered what Reinhard told me about the mysterious circumstances of her death and decided to ask my future husband about it right here and now.
“Heinrich, can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“Is it true that your wife died from shooting herself twice?”
“Who told you that?”
I started thinking that it was going to be a little more difficult than I thought. Meanwhile Heinrich sat on the edge of a table, put his drink next to him, and was waiting for my answer with his arms crossed.
“Umm… Reinhard did. Remember I told you that he scared me to death when he came into my dressing room after the show? When you were away?”
“And what exactly did he tell you?”
“Well… basically what he said was that it was you who shot her.” I bit my lip waiting for Heinrich’s reaction. He didn’t say anything, and I continued just to fill the pause. “Of course I told him that you didn’t do it and that she shot herself, but then he told me that ‘shooting yourself twice in the heart is quite an interesting way to commit suicide.’ So I was just curious, how is that possible that she shot herself twice?”
“You’re right. It’s not physically possible.”
“So… how did she die then?”
“Do you really want to know the truth?”
“I’m not sure.” I really wasn’t sure. And I really didn’t like where it was going.
“It was me who shot her.”
Heinrich kept looking me straight in the eye, and I couldn’t decide if it was one of his jokes or if he just told me the truth.
“All right. I’m going to need a little bit more explanation of what you just said.”
“Well, she actually forced me to do it. She tried to shoot me first. And she actually did. But she was the world’s worst shot.”
“I still need a little more context to this situation. Why would she try to shoot you?”
“You see, when we got married, we were both very young and hardly knew each other. I was travelling a lot for work, and she was a very jealous type. When I started working for SD, they sent me to Paris and I took her with me, but I couldn’t really tell her about my job, you understand why. You know, when you have a job like mine, you can’t always tell your wife where you go and what you do. And she kept accusing me of all kinds of things. Finally, I just got tired of it and told her that I wanted a divorce. That’s when she threw a fit and pulled a gun on me. I took my gun out too and told her to put hers down. She kept screaming and saying that if I didn’t take the divorce papers back she’d shoot me. I thought that she was just bluffing, of course, and made a step toward her to take her gun. And then she shot at me. I still have no idea how she missed my head from five steps away, but somehow she did. I couldn’t take another chance and hope that all her bullets were going to miraculously miss me as well and… then I shot her. The police didn’t even investigate the case as the Party took care of it. They don’t care too much for women as long as their agents are still alive and working for the ‘victory of the Reich.’ They even made up the story for the general public that she supposedly shot herself. Only some people within SS and SD knew the truth. I guess our ‘good friend’ Reinhard heard it somewhere and couldn’t wait to share the information with you.”
I was looking down at the floor. I didn’t know what to say. The whole story made a lot of sense, but… he still shot his own wife. As if reading my mind, Heinrich asked me, “Let me guess, you’re contemplating if you should marry a man who shot his first wife?”
Even now he’s joking. I smiled, came up to him, and put my glass down next to his.
“Well, I told you that I was Jewish, and you’re still marrying me. So you, telling me that you killed your first wife, kind of makes us even now.”
Heinrich flashed his charming smile at me, grabbed my waist, and pulled me close to him.
<
br /> “We’re going to make one interesting couple, Fräulein Meissner.”
“I don’t mind. Just tell me this now, are there any other dead ex-wives or girlfriends I should know about?”
“Do dead men that I had to kill for work count?”
“I’ll just pretend that it was a joke, but even if it wasn’t, I don’t want to know anything.”
“Then no. That one case pretty much sums it up.”
“Thank God!”
“Are we still getting married then?”
“Of course we’re getting married.”
At that point I already couldn’t imagine my life without this man. He couldn’t do anything wrong in my eyes. Whatever he did, I would forgive him anything.
Chapter Nine
It was finally here, my wedding day. I woke up the happiest girl in the world and immediately ran to the kitchen for my morning cup of coffee. Gryselda was already busy making breakfast and insisted that I waited for the food first. I was too excited to eat, so I, spoiled and stubborn, as my grandmother repeated too often, made the coffee myself. My mother came into the kitchen and gasped.
“Annalise! You haven’t showered yet? What are you doing sitting around and wasting time? We’ll be late!”
“Mama, the ceremony is not until twelve! It’s seven in the morning!”
“Yes, and we still have to do your hair, get dressed, and actually get to the hall, which is on the other side of the city! So put that cup down and march to the shower, Fräulein!”
“Almost Frau!”
“Just go, for God’s sake!!!”
I rolled my eyes at her, but still got up and went to take a shower. My mother was actually right: the biggest waste of time was travelling all the way to the other side of Berlin where the ceremony was supposed to take place. Even the church was not good for Reichsführer Himmler anymore, all the members of his “love child” SS and SD were supposed to be married by his rules and in his own place. When Heinrich first told me that the ceremony would take place in front of the Party functionary and with the presence of Himmler, I thought he was joking. But when he went on and said that even the altar wouldn’t be the regular Christian one, but some sort of a pagan Germanic, and it would be Reichsführer himself who would be pronouncing us the husband and wife, I thought that this country had definitely gone mad.
When I got out of the shower, I already heard my Grandmother Hilda’s loud voice coming all the way from downstairs. They say Hitler is a great public speaker, well, they certainly never heard my Grandmother speak! Put her on a pedestal for fifteen minutes and she’ll organize her own Jewish National Socialist Party, and will turn the Germans into the “unfit” ones. I chuckled at the thought while combing my hair, when my mother opened the door to my room.
“Annalise, you will never dry your amount of hair in time, Herzchen! Let me cut it; after you get married you won’t have time to take care of it anyway, so let’s just do it now.”
“Mama, no! Don’t even think about it!” I always had some strange attachment to my waist-long braid and protected it with the devotion I was supposed to have for my Führer (even though I would choose my braid over my Führer every time).
“Dear, after today your life will change completely. Your sole purpose from now on will be to take care of your husband’s needs. You’ll have to be in charge of the house; you’ll have to cook, clean, iron his uniform every day, and make sure that everything is in perfect order. Besides all that, you’ll still have to work for the company, if you don’t choose to quit it. Do you really think you’ll have time for your hair with all that?”
With all the wedding rush I didn’t actually have time to sit and think about all that. I certainly didn’t like the whole idea of “cook” and “clean,” but I’d figure something out. One thing I knew for sure: my braid stays.
“You’ll cut it over my dead body, Mama.”
She just sighed.
“Just go to the kitchen and dry it over the gas burner then. And try not to set it on fire!”
A couple of hours later, when I was already dressed and was busy finishing with my makeup, Grandmother Hilda paid me a visit. Surprisingly, this time she wasn’t as feisty as she was on my engagement day, and instead of cursing “my no-good Nazi fiancé,” sat quietly on my bed.
“Hi, Gran-gran.” I adjusted a couple of hair-clips that were supposed to keep my hair nice and wavy after I take them off, and smiled at her. “You aren’t yelling at me today, huh?”
“What can an old woman do?” She shrugged. “You made up your mind. I may not agree with your decision, but I don’t want my only granddaughter to stop talking to me because I don’t like her husband the putz.”
“Oma! Don’t call him that!” “Putz” and “meshuggeneh” were probably the only Yiddish words that I knew and all thanks to their regular usage by my Grandmother in relation mostly to the Nazi Party members and their wives or mistresses.
“Anyway, I’m not here to fight, I want to give you something.”
She walked up to me, took something out of her pocket and put it around my neck. She did it so quickly that at first I didn’t realize what it was until I looked closely at the pendant. It was a golden Star of David. I quickly clenched it in my hand ready to tear it off before someone came in and saw it.
“Oma! What the hell are you doing putting this thing on me?!”
“This ‘thing,’ as you condescendingly call it, was given to my mother by your great-grandfather before they had to leave Poland, girl. He made it to remind her that no matter where they go and no matter who they officially become in the eyes of the state, this ‘thing’ would remind her of who they really are. This is not just a piece of jewelry, this is a symbol, a memory, to make sure that you never forget that you belong to the, indeed, Chosen People and not what those Nazi imposters pretend to be. You belong to the Chosen People and should be proud of it, no matter what they tell you. My mother gave it to me before she died, and I gave it to your mother. Now we both agreed that it should be yours. So eventually, you’ll give it to your daughter. I know that you can’t wear it, of course, none of us did, but you can keep it some place safe and during the hard times you can take it out and look at it and remember how our ancestors suffered in Egypt and God saved them. And this time He will, again. It will give you strength even when you feel that there’s no hope.” I saw my grandmother quickly wiping a tear from her eye. “Annalise, I pray God every day for one thing: I pray to Him that my little girl doesn’t become one of them.”
I felt tears filling my eyes. I never knew about this little family treasure we had and, more than that, I never knew that my Grandmother thought that I was sympathizing with the Nazi Party, whose only purpose was to create a Judenfrei Germany, which basically meant to get rid of the people I belonged to. I suddenly felt so ashamed that, preoccupied with my happiness, I completely forgot all about what was going on in the country. No, not even that, I chose to close my eyes on it because it didn’t concern me and if I didn’t see it, maybe it didn’t even happen, maybe it was just rumors spread by the anti-government propagandists. But it was happening, and in my hand I was holding a reminder, the little star, which the rest of my less fortunate fellow Jews now had to wear sewn on their clothes.
“Oma, I will never become one of them. I swear to you, never. And Heinrich, he’s not like any of them either. He knows all about me, and he doesn’t hate me for that.”
Grandmother Hilda was definitely surprised to learn that, but she reacted much calmer than my mother.
“He found out you’re Jewish?”
“I told him myself. And see, he’s still marrying me.”
After a little pause, she smiled.
“Well, maybe he’s not that much of the putz I thought he was.”
I smiled back at her.
“Well, if he’s so tolerant of your Jewish origin, maybe he’ll agree to one little request of your old Oma?”
Around 10:30, Norbert knocked on my door and tol
d me that Heinrich was here. I was already completely dressed, and my mother had just finished readjusting flowers in my hair. I asked Norbert if Heinrich was alone and, after my brother’s affirmative nod, I quickly ran out to the top of the stairs. Heinrich, in his formal uniform, which SS and SD officers only wore for special occasions, looked especially handsome. He was talking to my father and didn’t see me until I called out his name.
“Heinrich! Could you come up to my room just for five minutes? It’s very important.”
“Sure.”
He ran up the stairs and stopped at the last step, smiling at me.
“Isn’t seeing a bride before the wedding bad luck?”
“It is our wedding. Kind of.”
Heinrich’s eyes stopped at my neck.
“Are you wearing a Star of David?”
“Yes. And I have a big favor to ask you. A huge favor.”
“If you want to wear it during the ceremony, I’m afraid the answer will be ‘no.’”
“No, of course not. My Grandmother was begging me to say a blessing before we actually get married. All of our family members had rabbis secretly marry them before the official ceremonies in church, and the thought of her only granddaughter not to be wedded according to the Jewish law is killing her! It won’t mean anything to you, so could you please just let her say a quick prayer?”
I made my best begging eyes at my future husband, who was grinning and shaking his head.
“You realize that by asking an SD Standartenführer to marry you during the Jewish ceremony you’re really pushing it. This is really, really wrong.”
“I know, I understand, but it will mean the world to her! Please?”
“On one condition. She’ll have to stop calling me a putz.”
Five minutes later, we were standing in front of my Grandmother, who was smiling from ear to ear. Her and my mother had already made up an improvised tent by throwing a curtain on two standing lamps (good thing they were high enough for us to stand under). Norbert was sent to guard the stairs and tell us right away if someone from Heinrich’s friends, who were waiting for him in his car, decided to show up. My mother made me remove all my jewelry except for the Star of David and covered my face according to the Jewish tradition. Then Grandmother told me to walk around the “tent” seven times and then stand on Heinrich’s right side. I had no idea what it meant but did what I was told to. After I took my place next to my groom, Grandmother reassuringly nodded and said, “I’m asking God to forgive me for doing this, as I’m not a rabbi. But I hope He forgives me because I’m only wishing happiness to this couple.”
The Girl from Berlin, #1 Page 10
