The Roses Underneath (16 page)

“Oh, she’s feeling better, that’s great.”

“Not exactly. She was evicted. For bad behavior, mostly.”

Cooper laughed. “Even better. Look, I’ll give her a ride.”

Anna flinched. “No, Captain, I can manage. Really. But thank you.”

“Nonsense, I am giving the old lady a ride. You have to stop turning me down all the time. I’m just trying to help. Loosen up, will you?”

Anna sank into the chair. She decided to let his comment go, although she didn’t understand just how much loosening up he expected of her. “Very well. Thank you. What did you want to talk to me about?”

“That’s better. I found out something out about the villa. Did you know it was used as some kind of children’s home during the war?”

“Why would I know that? I didn’t live here, remember?” Anna paused. “You think Oskar’s being there is connected somehow? How did you find out?”

“I tried to get hold of a truck to go over
there today and one of the locals told me. Doesn’t that seem strange? Of all the places he could go, he goes there?”

“There were so many orphans.” Anna couldn’t see a connection. The open window creaked as a breeze blew through and briefly moved the stifling air. “Maybe it’s just a coincidence.”

“Maybe.” Cooper took a piece of chewing gum from his shirt pocket. He pulled the stick from its envelope and folded it in half and half again before tossing it in his mouth. He held the package out to Anna who shook her head. “But it sure seems weird, that’s all. Anyway, I can’t get a truck out there until tomorrow.” He stood up and walked to the window, pulling a handkerchief from his pocket to mop his brow. The heat was becoming oppressive.

“Psst, Anna.” He gestured for her to come to the window. “Look at this.”

Anna looked down into the courtyard and searched for what Cooper had seen. A convoy of trucks was pulling in, drawing the attention of the workers who gathered to unload them. “What is it?”

“Look, over there, our friend is back.”

Anna saw Ludwig Schneider, standing at the gate talking with a corporal.

“Maybe he wants back in? To talk to you?”

“More likely he wants to go over my head. That guy he’s talking to, that’s Miller. He’s kind of shifty too,” Cooper said. They stood and watched. Schneider nodded at the soldier and handed him a piece of paper. Then the two men shook hands and Schneider walked away in the direction of the park.

Anna suddenly became aware that she and Cooper were rubbing shoulders in the small window frame. She lingered for a moment, enjoying the connection, the feeling of another human close by her side. She realized she liked their shared objective, even the secret of the art stash between them. Cooper turned his face toward hers, and Anna could feel his eyes on her. When she turned to look at him,
a loneliness rose up and squeezed her chest, making her inhale sharply. Their eyes locked, and she could smell the sweat on his skin mixed with the starch of his uniform. Her feet took several clumsy steps back, and she pretended to look in her bag for something to hide the color rising in her face.

“I wonder what that was all about,” she muttered.

Cooper cleared his throat and turned his face away. “Who knows? People are always trying to bribe the guards.” He mopped his forehead again and looked at his watch. “Why don’t we go fetch your friend now?” The air between them had gone very still, and Anna could not meet his eyes.

“Yes, let’s,” she said, and shouldered her bag.

Madeleine did not look like someone who should be coming home from the hospital. Cooper carried the old woman up the flight of stairs to her apartment and laid her gently on the bed. Madeleine pretended to swoon and he indulged her by holding her hand and propping her against the pillows. When she was settled, he opened the windows and then stood in the middle of the living room, waiting for something.

Anna checked the faucet in the kitchen. “Water’s running at the moment. Can I make you a coffee, Captain?” Having him in the apartment felt strange—her two worlds were overlapping. It was disorienting. She peered at him through the small pass-through between the kitchen and living room.

Cooper caught her eye. “I have to get back. Why don’t you get settled and I’ll see you back at the museum. In an hour, say?” He saluted at Madeleine. “I hope you’ll be feeling better soon, ma’am.”

“I’ll make up the time I missed,” Anna said as she followed him to the door. “Thank you, Captain.”

He pulled the door handle and turned to her. “Don’t mention it. I’ll figure out a way you can make it up to me.” He winked and then was gone, down the stairs. “See you later, Frau Klein,” he shouted behind him. Anna could hear the neighbors run to their peepholes as she closed the door.
Damn
Amis.

“Well, that was fast,”
Madeleine said when Anna brought her a cup of water and sat down on the bed. “He seems very nice. How kind of him to bring me home. I never would have made it on my own.” She sat up and sipped some water. “He didn’t want to stay? I suppose he’s very busy.”

“Yes,” said Anna. “The whole place is working like mad to prepare for the art coming from Frankfurt on Monday. All the art the
Amis
found in the Merkers mine, back in April. Did you hear about that?”

Madeleine shook her head. “You mean up there near by Bad Salzungen? Wasn’t that where they kept all the gold? The
Reichsgold
, I mean?”

“Yes, but you remember, the
Amis
also found art in the mine. The Nazis hid it there—I think it was all from the national museum in Berlin.”

“I do remember hearing about that. Well that’s exciting, isn’t it? I wonder what the
Amis
will do with all of it.”

Anna lay back on the bed, her legs hanging down the side. Her stomach rumbled. “Who
knows. I don’t really care. I miss Thomas, Madeleine. Do you think he’s all right?”

“Of course, my child. He is just fine. He will be here as soon as he can. You mustn’t worry about him.” She patted Anna’s hand. “Come on now. Up you get. I am going to nap and you need to get back to work. Did you eat?”

Anna shook her head. “I’ll have some bread before I go.” She kissed the old woman’s cheek and stroked her hair. “How about you have a bath tonight?”

Madeleine nodded and patted her cheek. “That would be lovely. Now go, and don’t worry about me.”

Anna returned to the kitchen and sat on the small stool by the black cast iron stove that always smelled of bacon fat. She imagined that somewhere in its bowels lay a forlorn slab of bacon waiting to be discovered. She lit her last cigarette and inhaled deeply as she looked out the window. Blue sky. She could hear sparrows. The rustle of the plane trees signaled the warm breeze before it stroked her face. She thought of Oskar and wondered how he must really feel under that toughened exterior. What happened to his real parents? He had lost two mothers already. She had only lost one and that was when she was already an adult. To be a motherless child in this world? She shook her head to dislodge the idea. The sounds of the city—voices, motors and footsteps—trickled into the room and fell on the floor around her feet. She felt completely alone.

The late afternoon sun had put the entire rear courtyard of the museum into shadow, providing a long-awaited respite for the day’s heat. Anna stood at the gate, peering up the Frankfurter Strasse, to see if Frieda was bringing the children. The afternoon had been very busy with organizing papers and setting up the office. Cooper had found a table and chair for Anna, and she now had her own workspace under the window next to his desk. He sent her up to requisition one of Frau Obersdorfer’s typewriters, which had gone about as well as expected. Anna carried the machine, a ream of paper and some loose-leaf carbon sheets down to the second floor and set up her desk. It wasn’t much.
The typewriter, paper and some pencils. But it was a spot, and that mattered. From there she could look out onto the front entry, the Wilhelmstrasse and the Rheinstrasse straight ahead. The Collecting Point director, a fastidious American named Captain Farmer with weight of the world on his shoulders, had stopped by. Cooper introduced Anna as his translator and praised her knowledge of art. “Nice to have you working with us,” the director said, eyes darting behind his thick glasses, before he moved on down the hall.

Anna felt an unexpected swelling inside her. For the first time since leaving her home she felt truly present, like a real person, and not just a lost desperate face in the crowd—a DP, a German, a
Kraut
. She had seen so many desperate faces along the road from Kappellendorf as she drove the truck with Amalia’s head in her lap. After Anna had told her over and over to close her eyes and look away, Amalia had decided to lay down for most of the trip. Once in a while they would pick up women and children walking alongside the road and drop them in the next town. A rotting stench hung over the countryside—animal carcasses rotting in the sun, here and there a dead body, desperate people begging for food. An intermittent trickle of hollowed men walked in the opposite direction, fleeing from the Americans, their army haircuts and averted eyes betraying their true identities. On a small country lane near Eisenach, a young woman, half naked and screaming, had run from the underbrush and stepped without flinching in front of the truck. Anna swerved and missed her by a hair, sending the truck and their meager belongings into the ditch. For her efforts Anna was rewarded with a tirade of curses and insults from the woman who charged at her, knocking her to the ground and pummeling her with rage. “I want to die,” she had screamed over and over. It took the three other women who had been on the back of the truck to pull her off Anna and run her back into the forest by throwing stones at her. Then it had taken the rest of the day and the help of a passing American patrol to get the truck out of the ditch. The memory revisited Anna nearly every day. She wondered what had become of the wretched woman.

“
Hallo,
Anna.”

She spun around to see Emil, his face red and glowing, hair matted against his head. His face was relaxed and open, the way it had been when they met at his house.

“Emil,
hallo
. You’ve been working hard,” she laughed.

“Yes, we’re almost ready. Almost all the windows are in now.” He jabbed a thumb over his shoulder. “We still have to work on the humidity. But were are getting there.” He looked at the ground and bit his lip. “Anna? I am sorry about this morning. I should not have—”

Now Anna cut him off. “Don’t,” she said. “You have nothing to apologize for. Let’s not speak about it again.”

“Please let me invite you to dinner. Today is an auspicious day, and we should celebrate.” He held her gaze with an intensity that made her nervous.

“Actually, I don’t feel much like celebrating, Emil. You are kind to ask,” she replied.

“I’m not being kind,” he said. “I am asking you to dinner.”

“Emil, you know I am married.”

His eyes flashed. “Yes, of course, I know that. I just thought we could…” He stuck his hands in his pockets and looked up at the sky. “Listen, I don’t mean anything by it. I like you. We survived. Doesn’t that put us in the same boat?”

Anna reached for his hand. “Emil I like you, I do. But you must understand, I have Amalia. And now that Madeleine is home, I need to take care of her. I can’t have dinner with you. Besides, where would we go? What is there to eat? No, it’s not possible. I am sorry.”

Emil pulled his hand away. He looked at her with a shroud of sadness covering him. He seemed to shrink in front of her eyes. “All right. I understand. I won’t bother you again.”

“You are not a bother, for heaven’s sake, Emil. You have helped me so much. It’s just that I have to take care of other things now.”

She spotted the undersized phalanx of children marching down the hill, with Frieda at the rear. Amalia was still holding hands with Liesl and they tugged each other’s arms playfully. Frieda saw Anna and waved.

“Here they are now,” said Anna. “Emil, will you be all right?”

He shrugged. Anna was nearly knocked over by Amalia’s tackling hug.

“Mama! Pick me up,” Amalia giggled. “
Hallo
Herr Schilling. Are you coming with us?”

“No, Maus, he isn’t,” Anna replied. “He has to go home, too. He’s had a hard day of working.” She lifted Amalia to her hip. The other children ran to meet their mothers, who had emerged from inside th
e building. Some lit cigarettes; others talked with the soldiers loitering in the yard. Anna recognized one of them from the typing pool and another from the filing offices downstairs. The mothers all went their separate ways without any casual after-work chatter. Anna too turned to leave, but bumped into Frieda who had come up behind her.

“Ah, Frau Klein. It’s good to see you. Everything is well?” Frieda smiled and waved to another mother over her shoulder. She looked at her brother. “Emil, what are you doing here?”

Emil shrugged. “I’m just leaving.” He waved a hand at Amalia but held Anna in his gaze. He turned and walked away.

Frieda sidled up to Anna, standing closer than Anna thought was comfortable. “I hope he’s not bothering you,” she said with tight lips and eyes darting at her brother’s back. “I think he’s taken to you a bit. Just misplaced emotion, you know. I’ve told him to let you be, that you are married and not interested in the likes of him anyway. He’ll have to find his happiness somewhere else.”