Page 27 of The Lies We Leave Behind

27

With curfew still in place, we didn’t have much time. Thankfully, I hadn’t unpacked much, just my toiletries, the picture of William and I, and my pajamas, all of which I gathered and placed back in my valise before staring down at my ring. But I didn’t have time to reminisce. Pulling it from my finger, I searched the lining of my little suitcase for a loose stitch, finding one and giving it a hard yank. Managing to make a small hole, I slid the ring in and zipped the case closed. After giving the room a quick last look to make sure I hadn’t missed anything, I opened the door and hurried downstairs.

The drive was relatively quick, Lee watching our surroundings as usual while I sat in my seat, my hands clasped between my thighs, palms damp with sweat.

We pulled off the road and he parked behind a building and then turned off the ignition and turned to me.

“Should we be caught, there will be questions,” he said. “Why we’re here. Where we’re headed. Who I am to you. None of that worries me. We’ve practiced all that. What does worry me is time. We have a window to get where we’re going and retrieve the vehicle that will get us up through the country.”

“I understand,” I said.

He nodded and glanced out the windshield before turning to me once more.

“We’ll be meeting an old friend of mine. Klaus. He will help get us up the river to where we need to go. Your job will be to sit in the middle of the boat with your head down while we row. Understood?”

“Yes.”

“You’ll need to have your identification readily available.”

“Which one?”

“Both,” he said. “Stow one in your pocket and one in your bag. It is crucial you remember which one is in which place.”

“Okay,” I said, and pulled both sets of identification from my bag.

“Should we get caught, they will likely question you first.”

“Why?” I asked, and immediately wanted to bite my tongue for asking questions.

“Protocol. Ask the youngest one. Ask the female. They assume if you’re a child or a woman you will be more easily intimidated and more likely to tell the truth, rather than the story you were told to tell. They will be harsh. Rude even. And desperate. Looking for a last chance to make their mark before the Allies inevitably push them back yet again. This makes them more dangerous than ever. So be smart.”

“Okay,” I said, a tremor in my voice.

“What’s my name?”

“Maximillian Brunner.”

“Spell it.”

I did as he asked, he nodded, and then opened his door while I followed suit on my side.

The boat was a small walk from the car. Down a path, through some trees, and then I could hear it, the clunk of the oars being jostled by the water below.

The silhouette of a man appeared and I sucked in a silent breath. Klaus, our contact. A moment later my valise was taken from me and a hand, calloused and cold, took mine and helped me into the rowboat that would take us north, farther into Germany, and closer to the place I’d once called home.

It was colder on the water and my teeth chattered as the men got situated, each grabbing a set of oars while I shifted the pile of what seemed to be blankets beneath me.

“Unter,” Klaus said, his voice gruff.

Under?

I turned and looked to Lee, now Max, on the seat behind me.

“Lie down,” he said quietly. “Beneath the blankets. Out of sight.”

Carefully, so as not to rock the boat too much, I did what I was told, grateful to have so many layers around me, insulating me, but not liking being blind to where we were going.

I felt the boat tilt as we pushed off from the bank, and then we were gliding along through the pitch-black, the only sounds the muffled slap of water against the sides of the boat, and every so often an oar scraping gently along the edge. I prayed we wouldn’t get caught, but more than that, I hoped we wouldn’t capsize. The water would be too frigid to fight against, and death would be slow and much too cruel.

I wasn’t sure how long we’d been on the water, but my body began to ache from being curled in one position on the hard, cold boat floor. I shifted carefully, repositioning my legs and hips, arms and shoulders. Above me I thought I heard the sound of voices whispering, but when I stilled, there was nothing.

The rocking of the boat as it glided across the water began to lull me and I started to drift, my eyelids closing, my breath slowing, until I was asleep.

“Scheisse.”

I woke to the word, whispered with intensity, and waited, listening.

A bark in the distance and shouting. The shifting of feet on the floor of the boat.

“Lena.”

For a moment, I forgot my new name.

The blankets covering me were pulled back and I was staring up into the face of Max. “We’ve been spotted,” he whispered. “Vorbereiten.”

Prepare.

I pulled in a shaky breath as I sat up, my body aching with the effort, and glanced over my shoulder to where the commotion was coming from, terrified by the half-dozen flashlights cutting through the darkness in our direction, voices calling out for us to stoppen . Kommen. Footsteps hurrying toward us. The sound of bodies pushing through the brush as Max and his friend maneuvered the boat toward the riverbank, calling back our compliance.

As soon as the boat touched ground, a light was shone in my face and I was hauled by my arms by two men and pulled up the steep slope of the embankment until I was standing alone at the top, my accomplices having been left in the boat, four soldiers pointing guns at them.

“Identification,” one of the men barked at me.

I nodded and pointed to the boat.

“Meine tasche,” I said, my native tongue rolling off my tongue as though I’d never stopped speaking it.

He shouted to the others to get my bag. A moment later it was shoved at me.

Hands shaking, I reached in, finding the little zipper inside and grasping on with numb fingers, pulling it with some effort until it released. I handed the man my ID and waited for the questions I knew would come next.

“Lena Klein,” he said, reading my name and looking at the photo and then me.

I nodded.

“And what, Miss Klein, are you and these two gentlemen doing out on the river at this late hour?”

The words were cordial, the tone was not, and though I was quaking inside, Max had prepared me for this, taking me in the car two days before to a spot where no one could see or hear as he shouted in my face over and over until I could answer without fail each of his questions.

“I am going home,” I said simply. For it was the truth.

My innocent answer seemed to stump him for a moment and so I continued.

“We got trapped behind enemy lines when the Allies came in. We’ve been in hiding. Biding our time. We’d hoped they’d get pushed back and were waiting it out. Unfortunately, they didn’t and we waited too long.”

He glared at me, shining his too-bright light in my eyes, trying to shake me. I feared my knees might give. I could assess an open stomach wound without so much as a tremor, but this... At any moment I knew this man, just for the fun of it...just because no one would stop him, could shoot me if he thought my answer not good enough.

“And who are they?” He sneered and turned his light on the men in the boat.

“Klaus, our guide,” I said, gesturing to one man and then the other. “And Max, my uncle.”

Again, he glared at me and then motioned to the men watching the boat. There was a splash as one of the oars fell overboard, and the two men were hauled from the boat and shoved by rifle barrel up the hill.

“Papiere!” the soldier shouted and both men pulled their identification papers from deep within their layers of clothing.

Klaus’s were inspected and then passed to one of the other soldiers who gave it a long look before handing it roughly back to its owner. But it was upon the inspection of Max’s papers that the soldier examining it took a small step back, his entire demeanor changing.

“You are Maximillian Brunner,” he said, eyes wide as he held out the papers. “Entschuldigen sie, herr.”

Max’s demeanor too had changed now, his shoulders pulled back, his facial expression haughty as he took his time collecting his papers, gaze flicking over the young man before him that had stood so tall before, but now shrunk a bit in size, worry prevalent in his eyes.

“Apologies are not necessary,” Max said, smiling coldly as he tucked his papers away inside his jacket. I watched in fascination as he smoothed back his hair, his chin raised. It was not just that he seemed like a different person, he looked like one too, all by the mere act of changing his body language. “You were only doing your job, isn’t that right, soldier?”

The way he said “soldier” made it sound like an insult and the younger man flinched.

“Yessir,” he said.

“But now that you have interrupted our little journey and scared my niece, perhaps you would like to provide us a place to sleep for the night and a vehicle in the morning to resume our journey?”

My blood turned cold. How badly I wanted to turn and stare at him. To grab his sleeve and beg no. Not here. Not with these people. But I couldn’t. To do so would turn their eyes back on us, and perhaps they’d demand to search us more thoroughly, finding our hidden IDs in the process.

“Absolut!” the soldier said, and then shouted to his men to gather our things and bring the boat ashore. “You will stay with me, of course. I have plenty of room. I am Hauptmann Keller, at your service.”

“Wonderful,” Max said and fell in step beside him, the two men suddenly acting like old chums as I glanced worriedly at Klaus, who merely gave me a grim smile and held his hand out for me to follow along.

Two of the soldiers, who’d only minutes ago been aiming guns at us, carried our bags. I kept an eye on them, making sure neither got curious and slid a hand inside our things.

The accommodations of the young captain weren’t grand, but the house had two stories, a large downstairs, a fire in the fireplace...and it smelled of food.

“You are hungry?” he asked.

I didn’t want to say yes, but my stomach grumbled quietly and along with the others, I nodded.

“Come. Sit. I’ll have the cook bring you some food.”

I tried not to look at my surroundings. Tried to ignore the furnishings that had clearly belonged to a family and not this single man. But it was impossible to miss the small chair built for a child at one end of the table.

“How long were you in France?” Hauptmann Keller asked Max, taking a bottle of wine out of a cabinet and holding it up for him to see. Max nodded and the bottle was uncorked, the dark red liquid poured into four glasses and set before each of us. “It was rumored you’d gone to Switzerland.”

Max laughed. “Switzerland, Spain, America... I heard the rumors too. But I’ve been in France. Found a nice penthouse in Paris and another in Nice. Was stupid of us to stay as long as we did. Didn’t believe we had anything to worry about. Alas...” He shook his head, putting on a grim face as our host nodded in sympathy.

“Alas, indeed,” Hauptmann Keller said and then turned and raised his glass. “To staying in the fight. Heil Hitler.”

He watched us carefully as we each raised our glasses in answer, and repeated the filthy words, bile rising in my throat as I mouthed them, unable to let myself put sound behind the salute.

While the others dug into their food, I pushed mine around my plate, exhaustion and fear quelling the hunger I’d felt before.

“It is not to your liking, fr?ulein?” the captain asked.

“It’s delicious,” I said. “But I’m afraid I’m more tired than hungry.”

“Of course! It was a tiresome ride on that tiny boat, I am sure. Please.” He scooted his chair back. “Allow me to show you to your room.”

I glanced at Max, but he was chatting with Klaus and so I smiled and nodded, letting him slide my chair back and then daintily placing my hand in the one he held out.

“I shall rejoin you soon,” he told the two men.

“Good night,” I said. This time, Max looked up. For a moment I thought he was going to ignore what was happening. But just as I was about to turn away, he nodded and scratched his jaw.

“Good night, sweet niece,” he said. “Sleep well.”

I nodded, relief spreading throughout my limbs. The scratch of his jaw was the first and only signal he’d taught me early on. To ward me off if I entered a room and I was to act as though I didn’t see or know him. To tell me something was awry. Or to let me know he was paying attention, and if more time went by than seemed necessary, he would be up the stairs and in my room to remove the German soldier if need be.

But thankfully there was no need for heroics. Hauptmann Keller showed me to my room as promised, lit the candle on the bedside table, and bid me good-night, turning on his heel before the latch on the door clicked into place. With a heavy sigh, I sat on the neatly made bed, gasping a little as a puff of dust arose around me. I looked around, noticing a thick layer covering every surface. This room had been left devoid of its owner for a long time. It sickened me once more to know what these people had done not just to other countries, but to their own people. I wanted to leave. To march down the stairs and demand we go. But to do so would put our lives at risk, and it was one thing to be so foolish in regards to my own life, but another to endanger others. And so, I pulled back the quilt, flipped over the pillow, and curled my body into a ball in an attempt to keep warm through the night.