All My Love, Detrick (11 page)

Helga and her friend Gretchen inhaled the splendor, which exceeded all of their expectations. Chairs had been set up along the wall for single girls - wallflowers awaiting a dance partner. The two chose seats in the center. It took less than fifteen minutes for a young party member to ask Helga to dance. He approached, head bowed, in his pressed uniform and spit-shined boots. She could see by his medals that he held a lower rank, but Helga didn’t care, she longed to dance. When she followed him out to the
floor, her heart thumped with excitement. Everyone turned to look at the magnificent blonde in the rich emerald dress smoothly gliding across the floor. From that moment on she never sat down. Whirling like a princess in a fairy tale, Helga waltzed until the lights flickered on and off, indicating time to take a seat for dinner. She turned, thanking the last man she’d danced with, and as she did, she saw a tall high-ranking SS officer standing at the bar staring at her approvingly. Helga turned away; shy, with the blood rising in her cheeks as she followed Gretchen to their seats. When the girls were seated, Helga tried to catch another glimpse of him, but he had gone, so she assumed he had forgotten her.

Following the speeches and a scrumptious dinner, Helga rose to accompany Gretchen to the ladies' room. On her way back, the handsome officer appeared, as if he’d been waiting for her. With his raven hair slicked back from his angular face and his striking blue eyes accented by his shining black uniform, he made a stunning sight.

“Good evening, Fraulein. It is Fraulein? Or is it Frau?”

Helga laughed nervously. “No, I am not married. It is
Fraulein.”

“And what is your name,
Fraulein? Or shall I call you simply 'Fraulein?'”

“Helga.”

“Hello, Helga.” He kissed her hand. “I’m Eric.”

Helga could not find her voice. Her breathing
momentarily stopped. Eric’s charming smile and teeth so white they seemed to have a violet tint, intimidated her. She’d charmed boys before, but this clearly was a man.

“May I have this dance?”

She nodded, and before she could say another word, he took her into his arms and they glided across the floor to the final song of the evening.

Helga could not believe her own voice as she heard herself agree to Eric’s invitation to escort her home. He took her arm and walked her to his waiting vehicle. Then he opened her door and patiently watched as she arranged her skirt so he could close the door. Once inside his long black automobile, Helga smelled the leather of the seats combined with the hint of a fine cigar.

“Where do you live?”

Helga felt the shame rise, giving
her face and neck a pale blush as she remembered her family’s social position. What would this man think when he saw her home? Her mind raced, but she could not think of a lie. Biting her lower lip she told him her address. Surprising Helga, Eric seemed unfazed. Even when he saw the apartment building with the women talking to each other through the windows across the courtyard, he did not flinch. Instead, he walked her to the door, and in a voice that penetrated right through her skin, he asked if he could see her again.

“Yes, I would like that very much.” Helga wished she could stop the noise of her neighbors, people whose classless behavior embarrassed her. The voices of the women in her building carried across the walkway. Even at this late hour, the banter continued.

“My husband is out drinking again, Hilde - dirty no good lout… Get in here right now, Fredrik... You listen to me, or when your father gets home...”

“Ech…
My husband too…the good-for-nothing bastard.”

Although the clock read after ten, children with dirty faces, hands and feet still played in puddles outside on the street.

“Would tomorrow night be too soon?” Eric seemed not to notice, his attention fixed on Helga.

“No, not at all too soon.
I would love to see you,” She replied.

“Good, it’s settled then? Eight o’clock, for dinner?”

“Yes.”

Eric smiled, his teeth sparkling in the moonlight. Before he left he turned back one time to take in the lovely girl in the green dress as she disappeared into the dilapidated apartment house.

25

The following morning, two dozen crimson roses arrived in a long white box. When Helga opened the door to find the flower deliveryman, she stared at him in disbelief. None of the boys she knew would have had the finances or the inclination to orchestrate such a romantic gesture. Gently, she touched a petal. She found the small envelope and with trembling fingers, she opened it.

Helga,

Thank you for making the dance last night so very special for me. I will spend all day looking forward to our dinner tonight.

Eric

Helga pressed the card to her chest and twirled around on her toes like a ballerina. Then a musical laugh escaped her lips. Inga watched from the kitchen and her heart ached. As Helga’s, mother she hoped she’d been wrong about the world snuffing out her daughter's ambitions. Inga thought that perhaps over-cautiousness caused this unwarranted worry. But, of course, Inga had every reason to be watchful. After all, when she looked at what had become of her own life, she cringed. She had been young once, and at least attractive, if not beautiful. Hans had made promises, too. Now, he not only fell short of them all, but his failure to be the man she had once hoped he would be no longer bothered him. Often she wondered if she still loved him. Once, she had loved him a great deal. Admired him, too. He’d been ambitious and filled with dreams. But, poverty and daily failure had beaten him down and stripped all hope from him. Hans grew older, more angry, and miserable, while Inga’s life had become drudgery. Although she never told anyone, Inga Haswell believed that her only way out of her wretchedness would be death.

And
, sometimes she thought she might welcome it.

Now she found it hard to watch her daughter
being swept up in a mad love affair that might be her vision realized, or result in hideous disaster. So many mixed feelings surfaced as Inga thought of Helga finding herself in the same situation Inga now suffered. Horror at the knowledge of how badly things could turn out made Inga overly cautious. After all, she’d seen things go wrong firsthand.

Then she had other concerns.
Much darker, ugly ones that filled her with shame. Could she be envious of Helga? Would Inga allow her jealousy to poison her towards Helga’s happiness? Inga despised herself for that thought, and confusion as to her motives worried her. Inga watched and listened as her daughter sang softly to herself. She combed her golden hair and carefully smudged a muted lipstick on her heart-shaped mouth.

Then satisfied, Helga grabbed her pocketbook and left for the bus that would take her to work. She had recently found a secretarial position at the local grammar school, but only part-time hours had been available. The rate of pay left much to
be desired and she found that, although it helped a little, the Haswell family remained poor.

At precisely eight that evening, Eric arrived. Crisp and polished in his uniform, the majesty of his presence caught Inga off guard. Instead of giving just a spoken greeting, he kissed her hand. Inga watched from the window as he opened the door to his automobile and helped Helga inside. Her daughter looked so beautiful that a tear came to her eye. After the car pulled away, with a heavy heart, Inga went back to the washboard to work on the pile of dirty sheets that she needed to finish for her customer by morning.

Hans did not come home that night until the tavern closed. When he entered the bedroom, Inga heard him; she could tell by the tune
that he hummed that he felt amorous. She pretended to be asleep.

Eric chose a quaint restaurant with a lovely view of the city. Candles lit the tables and a violin played softly. He ordered roasted goose, and
sauerbraten, a green salad, potatoes with cheese, and a lovely strudel for desert. Although her stomach rumbled, Helga could not eat. Her nerves made her feel clumsy as she sat across the table from Eric trying to make clever conversation. He listened intently when she spoke. His eyes gazed into hers, soft with emotion that stirred her.

“You were by far the prettiest girl at the ball last evening.”

“Do you really think so? There were so many.”

“Yes…by far.” His smile drew her in.

“Thank you.”

“Please don’t thank me. I
am honored that you have allowed me to see you again. I hope that you are enjoying yourself enough to agree to another date with me.”

“Oh, yes. This is a lovely place.”

“But you are not eating. Would you like something else? I would be more than happy to order anything you would like.”

“No, please, this is more than perfect. And, by the way, thank you so much for the roses.”

“It is hardly enough.”

She could think of nothing to say so she looked down at her plate and moved the strudel around with her fork.

“Perhaps you will allow me to escort you to some of the finer ballrooms in town.”

She looked at her dress, the sleeves appeared worn “Yes, of course. I would love that.”

He saw her lack of enthusiasm. “What is it? You don’t seem to want to go.”

“Oh, no, it’s nothing really
.”

“Come now, you can tell me.” Eric’s voice and his mannerisms seemed so sincere that she felt at ease to express her concerns.

“Well, I…my dress is so old, and I’m just afraid people might think badly of me.”

“Is that all?” He laughed
aloud. “You just leave that to me.” Such a simple problem, with an easy remedy - Eric would simply purchase a gown and have it sent to her home.

After that night, the gifts began to arrive. Eric sent a dress of ivory satin and silk stockings, as well as an ermine fur stole. Every other day a
deliveryman climbed the stairs carrying the white box of red roses.

He bought her a hair comb with three tiny diamonds that sparkled like stars in her golden halo. Helga would see Eric for a week straight, and then he would leave on business for a few days, but as soon as he returned, he knocked at the door with a pretty trinket as an offering from his travels.

When Hans first met
Eric, he radiated with pride. He made a point of telling his drinking companions at the local tavern that his daughter kept company with an SS officer. For a while, this knowledge kept him in an unusually jovial mood. Others respected and looked up to him for the first time in a long time. But, after a while the depression that he’d suffered returned, and once again, he withdrew into the safety of the solitude of his own mind.

Detrick, however, had no such admiration for Eric. He found it difficult to keep his abhorrence of the Nazi Party a secret, even for his sister’s sake. When he voiced his concerns to the SS officer for the future of a Germany ruled by a tyrant, his mother’s face turned as white as parchment.
She frowned at him in warning, and instead of continuing the argument with Eric, he left the house.

As he walked the street that night, his thoughts turned to Jacob and Leah, and he feared what the future would hold for all of them.

On occasion, Eric’s sexual needs surfaced, but he seemed to understand that Helga’s lack of experience made her reluctant to go to his bed. He never became forceful or insistent. Instead, he told her to take her time. Always kind and attentive, Helga came to believe Eric had fallen in love with her. His kisses and embraces grew tender as stirrings of desire manifested within her. When Eric looked at Helga, she saw that his eyes radiated sincerity.

They frequented ballrooms and waltzed the night away, dined at the finest restaurants, and laughed at the shocking and decadent burlesque shows. Everywhere they went, Eric, wearing his black SS officer uniform, received the treatment of a crowned prince. Helga, at his side, drew the envy of females young and old. Her fair-haired Aryan beauty radiated like the sunshine, and the couple seemed a perfect representation of the New Order of the Third Reich.
The future of Germany!

Fall turned to winter and the winter to spring. Eric grew more reluctant to leave on his government business and he continually tried to find replacements so that he could stay with Helga.

They walked hand in hand through the park as the spring flowers began to bloom. The blossoms on the trees had just begun to open. Eric turned to her, his eyes glassed over with feeling. She felt her heart skip a beat, and as he bent to kiss her lips, she sighed.

“I am falling in love with you.” Eric touched Helga’s face as his words sprung forth husky with desire.

She swallowed hard then looked up into his eyes. “I am falling in love with you, too.”

They kissed and embraced for a long time. Helga felt Eric’s powerful chest against her own. She could smell the fragrance of his cologne and the spicy odor of his cigars as it mingled with the perfume of the flowering trees. The passion mixed with the aromas left her intoxicated.