Page 11 of The Banned Books of Berlin
Los Angeles, April 2024
This had to be the strangest social event she’d ever attended, Maddie thought, following her grandfather into the community centre. They stood in the foyer – a bright, airy space, with posters on the wall advertising bake sales and baby yoga classes – wondering where to go next.
‘Are you heading for the Death Café?’ asked an elderly lady, walking through behind them. ‘It’s right this way.’
‘Thanks. We’ll tag along with you,’ Maddie said. She caught the eye of the guy whose arm the old lady was holding – most likely her grandson, to judge from his age – and they exchanged looks that said, ‘You, too? What on earth are we doing here?’
‘We’ve not been to one of these events before,’ Gramps said. ‘Can’t wait to hear what it’s all about, though my granddaughter isn’t quite so keen.’ He had dressed for the occasion in purple slacks, a red shirt and a red-and-yellow striped blazer, accessorised with a Panama hat.
‘Oh, these kids are too soft for their own good,’ the lady said. ‘Just wait till it’s their turn. Old age is no place for sissies.’
‘My thoughts exactly.’ Gramps hurried to hold the door open for her to pass through. They were much the same height and she was also stylishly dressed in orange leggings with flatform sneakers and a pink tunic dress that matched the pink streaks in her white hair. From behind, she and Gramps could have been a couple of kids going to a festival. Maddie hid a smile.
‘What you have to bear in mind,’ the old lady was saying, ‘is that this isn’t a counselling session, and it’s not some kind of death cult, either. It’s just a forum for people to discuss what seems to be a taboo subject these days.’
‘With refreshments,’ added the probable grandson. ‘Though sadly not of the alcoholic kind.’
They found themselves in another light-filled room with around twenty or so other people, standing alone with glazed expressions or making stilted conversation in groups. Tables and chairs were dotted about, and a coffee urn stood to one side, along with plates of sandwiches, cookies and cakes. A woman with cornrow braids and a clipboard came to meet them, introducing herself as Gabrielle and asking for their names, which she ticked off on a list.
‘Eva! Great to see you again,’ she greeted the pink-haired lady.
‘And you remember my grandson, Daniel.’ Eva pushed him forward and he gave an awkward wave.
Gramps and Eva began chatting immediately, leaving Maddie and Daniel looking at each other. Maddie wished intensely that she hadn’t come; she couldn’t think of a thing to say and she still wasn’t comfortable around groups of strangers. It might have been her imagination, but this guy seemed to be staring at her intently. Did he know who she was? His brooding, suspicious gaze made her nervous. Maddie turned away and pretended to be fascinated by a leaflet about woodland burials. Part of her had been thinking that a visit to the Death Café would make great copy, but she could guess the shower of abuse that would rain down on her head if she dared write about it.
After another few minutes, Gabrielle clapped her hands and announced the meeting could start. There was no agenda: they would chat in groups about whatever was on their minds, taking care to be respectful and making sure everyone had a turn to speak. A page of conversation starters was provided on every table, for use if required. Maddie took a quick look. ‘Would you prefer to be buried, cremated, or some other kind of ritual?’ she read. ‘How would you like to be remembered? Would you prefer to die suddenly or over a period of months?’ She flipped the paper face down.
Luckily there was no need for any prompts with Gramps around. He talked about clearing out his home and the comfort he’d gained from looking back over his life that enabled him to think calmly about its end. Soon the others were joining in: Brad, who was caring for his father with terminal cancer; Devika, heavily into Tarot and spiritualism; Charmaine, recently diagnosed with a life-limiting condition she didn’t want to specify; Alison, whose husband had passed away a couple of years before after a long illness, and who was thinking of training as a death doula. A death doula, she explained, was someone who could help a person out of life in the same way as a midwife brought a baby into it.
‘Now that sounds fascinating!’ Gramps said. ‘Tell me more.’
Maddie had seen her grandfather’s charm at work so many times: people warmed to him because he was open-minded and curious. And why shouldn’t he be interested in what lay ahead of him, maybe sooner rather than later? Maddie didn’t contribute much to the conversation, feeling she was there under false pretences, but it was fascinating to eavesdrop on these discussions between like-minded strangers who had no axe to grind, no skin in the game. She regretted her previous squeamishness. Gramps was trying to make things easier for all the family, and there might come a time when they’d thank him for that.
Now they were deciding what would be the ideal way to die. Alison’s sister-in-law had suffered a stroke in the passenger seat of her carer’s car while out shopping. ‘What a mercy,’ Charmaine commented enviously. ‘She didn’t even have to fall down.’ The winner, though, was Brad’s boss, who’d had a heart attack on the eighteenth hole, having just declared that was the best round of golf he’d ever played. They were laughing when Maddie glanced across the room to find Daniel looking at her again with that odd, calculating expression. What was wrong with him?
Shortly afterwards, Gabrielle announced it was time for coffee. Before she could lose her nerve, Maddie walked over to Daniel and asked, ‘Do I have spinach in my teeth or something?’
He gave an embarrassed laugh. ‘God, no. Sorry. I feel like I know you from somewhere, that’s all. Just trying to work out where.’
‘I don’t think so,’ Maddie said coldly. ‘You don’t look at all familiar to me.’
She turned on her heel, torn between anger and fear. How dare some creep make her feel uncomfortable? She’d been doing so much better after a week at home, settling back into the usual family rhythms: taking Ben to the art supplies store, yoga classes with her mom, cooking a special dinner for Gramps. Now all her insecurities came rushing back. Daniel must have seen her picture online; he’d realise where he recognised her from eventually and another storm cloud would break. She’d probably be accused of wanting her grandfather to die. Could she not escape judgement anywhere? For a second, she wondered about making some excuse to leave, but her grandfather was enjoying himself and she had been too, up until then.
To make matters worse, after the coffee break they ended up on the same table as Daniel and his grandmother. Gramps was delighted to take the chair beside Eva but Maddie could only sit there, trying to pretend Daniel didn’t exist. She didn’t want to enter the general discussion, since anything she said might be used against her in some way or another. The woman beside her was quiet, too, though she smiled when Maddie said hello and introduced herself as Lauren.
‘What brings you here?’ Maddie asked.
‘Well, that’s a long story,’ Lauren replied, her fingers twisting together. She looked plump and comfortable but her eyes were sad.
‘Oh, sure. I probably shouldn’t have asked,’ Maddie said quickly. ‘Have a cookie? The chocolate ones are delicious.’
‘No, it’s fine.’ Lauren hesitated, glancing around the table, where a debate about assisted dying was in full flow. ‘Where to begin? It’s my mom, you see.’
Little by little, the story came out. Lauren’s mother had originally been diagnosed with cancer four years ago and the disease had recently returned. She’d gone through various sessions of chemotherapy but her latest scans and test results had not been encouraging.
‘We’ve been trying to stay positive for so long,’ Lauren said, ‘but now I’m wondering whether that’s helping. I mean, maybe it’s another burden for Mom, putting on a brave face when she doesn’t feel that way underneath. On the other hand, I’m frightened of saying the wrong thing and scaring her to death.’ She laughed awkwardly. ‘Sorry, wrong phrase.’
‘Sure,’ Maddie said. ‘You don’t want to bring her down but it might be a relief for her to talk honestly.’
Lauren’s face cleared. ‘That’s exactly it. I hope you don’t think I’m an awful person.’
‘Of course not!’ Maddie exclaimed. ‘Look, I haven’t been in your situation but maybe you should let your mom take the lead. When the time’s right, and you’ll know when that is, you could just ask her how she’s feeling and see what she says. She must be so worried about how you’re coping. If she sees you can face the truth, no matter how hard it is, she might be reassured.’
‘You’re right. Thanks. Guess it’s obvious, really.’ Lauren gave a watery smile. ‘Can I give you a hug?’
Human contact was so vital, Maddie thought as they embraced. Talking to someone when you could see the impact your words were having was a completely different matter from shouting into the void on social media.
‘Well, I’ve had a great time,’ Gramps said, fastening his seat belt. ‘That Eva is some woman. Would you believe it, her parents came here from Germany in the 1930s too. Talk about a coincidence! They were Jewish so it was more urgent for them. She’s an artist, as you can probably tell from her clothes. And you were at college with her grandson? He seems like a nice boy.’
‘Hmm,’ Maddie replied. The jury was still out on that one. Daniel had asked her where she’d gone to college and when she’d said UCLA, had replied that’s where he’d studied, too, which must be why he recognised her. She didn’t believe him for one minute.
‘You know, it feels like I’ve been given a new lease of life,’ Gramps said, looking out of the car window as they drew up at a traffic light. ‘I’ve been mouldering away for so long in that apartment, worried about bills and grocery shopping and all the useless possessions I’ve accumulated over the years, and now I’m liberated. Look at Eva – she must be around my age but she’s doing all kinds of things. She swims in the ocean all year round, and plays pickleball, and goes to German conversation classes. Makes me feel guilty I haven’t kept up with the language.’
‘She made quite the impression on you,’ Maddie said, giving him a sidelong glance.
‘Yes, I don’t mind admitting she did.’ Gramps inspected his fingernails with an air of concentration. ‘She’s invited me over to see some of her work.’
‘Woo hoo, a date!’ Maddie crowed, pulling out into the traffic.
‘Don’t be silly. At my time of life?’ But he was smiling. ‘Anyway, I thought Ben would like to come too and she says you’d both be welcome.’
‘If Eva speaks German fluently, she might be able to help you translate your mother’s journal,’ Maddie said, careful not to look at her grandfather. He’d been curiously reluctant even to read the diary in front of her, and she was itching to know what it contained.
He sighed. ‘I don’t know. Feels wrong to be prying into someone’s private life. I always had the sense there were things Mom didn’t want to tell me about her family, things she wanted to keep secret.’
‘Like what?’ Maddie asked.
He shrugged. ‘Why did she up sticks and sail halfway across the world to start over in America? It was the right thing to do, as it turned out, but she was so young. And why didn’t she keep in touch with her family? She told me once that she had an older brother but we never heard from him. I couldn’t even find an address to contact him when she got sick. And her father must have died at some point, though I don’t remember her saying so.’
‘Was she political?’
Gramps considered the question. ‘Not exactly. I mean, she didn’t belong to a political party but she had very strong beliefs. She was passionate about freedom of speech, for example. When I was growing up, Senator McCarthy was conducting a witch hunt against Communists, and my mother wasn’t having any of that, no sir.’ He laughed. ‘I remember some woman in Indiana tried to ban books about Robin Hood because she said he stole from the rich to give to the poor, and that was Communist ideology.’
‘And now books are being banned from school libraries all over again,’ Maddie said.
Gramps shook his head. ‘Mom would be turning in her grave. She said anyone who tried to restrict what people read and thought was not to be trusted. Even Hitler’s memoir, Mein Kampf, should be freely available because it showed what he was like. Read as widely as you can and then make up your own mind, that was her philosophy.’
‘Wish I could have met her,’ Maddie said. ‘She sounds great.’
‘She was wonderful,’ Gramps said. ‘In some ways, you remind me of her: both so thoughtful and creative. She made all her own clothes and mine, too, when I was little. I like to think I’ve inherited her sense of style.’
Maddie smiled. ‘My goodness, what a gift to leave the world.’
Gramps ignored her. ‘She hated war, that was another thing, which I guess was inevitable given her background. I remember going on marches with her to protest against Vietnam. I was born towards the end of 1943 so I just escaped the draft lottery, but kids I taught were killed or wounded out there.’ He shook his head. ‘All those young men whose lives were ruined. If I’d been born a couple of months later, in 1944, I might have been one of them.’
He was quiet for a while. When they were almost home, he turned to Maddie and said, ‘Maybe you’re right, and I should let Eva take a look at that journal. My mother lived through extraordinary times – she would probably want me to know about them.’
By the time Maddie had dropped Gramps off at his apartment and driven home, Ben had gone to his room for the night and her mother was alone in the living room, dozing in front of the TV.
She woke up when Maddie came in and gave her a bleary smile. ‘So how was the Death Zone?’
‘I enjoyed it, actually,’ Maddie replied. ‘It was interesting, meeting a load of random people and exchanging ideas. We should talk about the important things more often.’
‘If you say so.’ Her mother didn’t look convinced.
‘Look, this probably goes without saying,’ Maddie went on, ‘but you know I’d step up and take care of Ben if anything happened to you?’
‘Thanks, honey,’ her mother said, patting her hand. ‘That’s good to hear.’
Maddie hesitated, choosing her next words with care. ‘Ben doesn’t seem his usual happy self. The other day, he told me he wanted to live independently.’
Sharon groaned. ‘I thought I’d talked him out of that crazy idea.’
‘Is it so crazy, though?’ Maddie asked. ‘Shouldn’t we at least consider the options? Maybe we could find a shared apartment, or a group home where he can be with other people but still have some freedom. It must be a strain for you, looking after him twenty-four-seven.’
‘Are you saying I can’t manage?’ Sharon asked, flaring up.
‘No, of course not. You take wonderful care of him. What if you got sick, though? Or had an accident? And let’s face it, things aren’t going to get any easier. You have Gramps to worry about and—’
‘Ben couldn’t cope on his own,’ Sharon interrupted. ‘He doesn’t have the skills to look after himself, to shop and cook healthy food or do the laundry, let alone carry on with the art business. Remember that time he went away to camp and we had to fetch him back after three days?’
‘But that was years ago,’ Maddie protested. ‘Mom, Ben’s twenty-three now. If he wants to leave home, surely we ought to help him try? He should be able to live the way he wants.’
‘That’s easy to say,’ her mother replied. ‘I just don’t think he has the capacity.’
‘Well, perhaps we could arrange a meeting to talk about the idea with his support worker,’ Maddie suggested. ‘What was her name? Lisa something.’
‘It would be setting him up to fail, encouraging wild dreams that can’t ever come true,’ Sharon declared. ‘I’m not putting him through that.’
‘You might be surprised,’ Maddie persisted. ‘He’s started to do his own laundry now, hasn’t he? I saw him loading clothes into the machine this morning. And I’m sure he could learn to cook. It would be a shame to assume he’s going to fail without giving him a chance.’
‘He can’t manage without me,’ her mother replied baldly. ‘I’m sorry, but that’s the long and short of it.’
‘Some day he might have to,’ Maddie said. ‘Face facts, Mom – you’re not going to live for ever.’
‘Well, thank you for that cheerful reminder.’ Sharon got heavily to her feet. ‘On that note, I’m going to bed.’
It took Maddie a long time to drift into sleep that night, tossing and turning as her mind ran around in circles. She was perplexed by Ben’s tentative steps towards a different life and her mother’s refusal to contemplate them. Maybe Sharon depended as much on Ben as he did on her. Her mom had just turned sixty-five; what would happen to Ben if – or more accurately, when – she couldn’t look after him anymore? Did she, Maddie, have the patience to become her brother’s primary care giver, and how would that even work? Ben wouldn’t want to move to Portland and she couldn’t put her career on hold to come back to LA and take care of him. Perhaps that was selfish, but if she wasn’t Maddie the journalist, who was she?