The Watcher (14 page)

“Johanna, do you know there are two girls who have come to work with you?” I asked in a hushed voice.

“No,” she said with a slight frown. “Why? Who are they?”

“Trouble,” I whispered. After telling her what I overheard, I cautioned her. “I think they are here to trap you.”

Johanna nodded. “Oh,
ja.
This happened with Frau Messner when I first came. She eventually began to trust me and leave me alone. But she may try again if she is put under pressure. There are others who want to put me in prison and then force me to reveal who my friends are and where they may be meeting for our worship.” She shook her head. “All my family and most of my dearest friends are in prison. I have no idea if or where the rest are able to
meet. And I would never tell them even if I did know.”

“Don't let those two girls trick you, Johanna.”

“Thank you for warning me, Wendy. I will be careful.”

On the way home I waited for the bus and noticed a girl standing nearby. The same girl who begged outside of Lebensborn. She was still looking for money to buy a uniform for the youth group. I did not have much money with me, so I turned away from her. I noticed a few other passengers did put a coin or two into her box. She did not get on the bus when it came. Instead she turned and walked away, stopping people on the sidewalk to ask for money.

I climbed on board, found a seat, and watched the people around me. Many were going to a late shift; others, who were probably going home, looked tired—some of them even sleeping in their seats. A few were reading a newspaper, and some laughed or spoke with one another. Most, though, were silent.

Did any of them know that thousands of innocent people were being murdered every day in death camps? Johanna said her
Bibelforscher
friends were risking their lives to get the truth out to the world. Perhaps many of the Germans refused to believe that Jews were being slaughtered, or they chose to ignore the stories. How could they live their lives knowing this terrible secret? Why didn't they cry out? Why did they stay silent?

Then I remembered that I had my own secret.

I was a Jew—a
Mischling
. If I valued my life, I had to live a lie and stay silent too.

A
drie was gone for three weeks. She was back and unpacking her suitcase when I arrived home one Friday. She pulled a garnet-red dress from her suitcase and tossed it to me. “This is perfect for you. Go try it on.”

The dress was simple, with long sleeves, and trimmed with white lace at the collar and sleeves. I loved the material—soft and comfortable. The label said
Jugendliche
. Didn't that mean young, or teenage? Why did Adrie have this dress in her suitcase? Her clothes were usually very sophisticated—and very stylish but this was a dress for a younger person.

I ran to my room, quickly changed, and looked in the full-length mirror, turning slowly. It was beautiful.

“Schön!”
Adrie agreed when she popped into my room.

“Did you buy it for me?” I asked.

“No. I wore it once. . . .” She paused as if determining
whether to tell me. Then she went on. “When I was in Munich, my assignment was to become a student at the university.” She smiled but then looked serious. “It was difficult, because I couldn't get one soul to open up about the White Rose group—such as who was involved and who helped them.”

“What are they doing that is so terrible?”

“They are writing and passing out antigovernment leaflets that are full of hatred for our Führer, the SS, and the Reich in general. The group is stirring up dissenters and is growing in numbers. They've got to be silenced.”

She took a deep breath. “I was hoping one of them would give themselves away, but they are a very tight, dedicated group.”

I twirled around in front of the mirror, trying not to appear too interested in the White Rose group. “So you became a student again. “

“Yes, I did, and in case you are wondering if I got away with it—they all accepted me completely. I even went to student parties.” Her expression became grave. “Believe me, it wasn't fun, knowing that group would be found out sooner or later. God help those students when they're caught . . . and they will be caught.”

She left the room, and I called out, “Thank you for the dress. But wherever will I wear it?”

“At Reichsmarschall Himmler's birthday party,” she replied.

“What?”

“October seventh is his birthday, and I'm sure there
will be a party at Lebensborn. After all, he is the one who created the Lebensborn program.”

That was next week! I wondered how Johanna would get by on that day with Gertrude and Rikka there.

After supper Adrie said, “I'm going to listen to the British newscast.” She headed for the den and then paused. “Oh, by the way, pay close attention to this, Wendy.” She emphasized each word. “If any citizen is caught listening to international broadcasts, they will be shot.”

“Oh, come on. You're kidding me, aren't you?”

“No, it's true. The false news we get from the allied countries makes German people depressed and stirs up fear that we might lose the war, which could not be further from the truth.” She gave me a warning look. “So I don't want you listening anymore.”

“What about you? You're always listening to British broadcasts.”

“I'm allowed to listen because of my position with the
Abwehr
.” Adrie headed for the den. “Just remember, no sneaking into my den to hear British broadcasts anymore.”

That made me angry, and I stomped after her into the den. “I never sneak in here. And I only listened when you were listening.”

“There's more,” Adrie went on. “American jazz and American music by that . . . what's his name . . . Glenn Miller—they're forbidden too.”

“Glenn Miller? You mean ‘In the Mood' and ‘Chattanooga Choo Choo'?”

“Yes, all his music—and other American performers as well.”

I never heard the U.S. Government tell us what music we could listen to. I opened my mouth in protest but changed my mind. There was no point in arguing with Adrie.

“Oh, Wendy. I'm just warning you . . . so no one will shoot you.” Suddenly, as if trying to make things lighter, she grinned and held up her fingers like a gun. “Bang!” she said.

That is not funny,
I thought as I marched out of the den.

T
he next morning at Lebensborn, Hunfrid ran to see me with a big grin on his face. I was relieved to see he had recovered so well. He was thin and pale, but his smile was bright and beautiful.

What a darling little boy. His life was so sad. Nothing bad should ever happen to him again!

During the afternoon the officer from the SS and his wife, the couple Johanna had spoken about, came to see Hunfrid. When they called his German name, his face lit up and he raced to meet them. For a while I was extremely jealous.

Johanna was talking with the couple, explaining how sick he had been. I could see concern on the woman's face, and she picked him up, cuddled him, and kissed his cheek.

Be glad someone loves him, and wants him,
I scolded
myself.
He needs a home, even if it's not his own home.

I recalled my aunt Nixie—my New York mom—who had been my mother all my life. I was a happy little girl, and I felt loved. Hunfrid would be happy too. I turned away and went into the nursery where the other children needed me.

Later when I looked for Hunfrid, I didn't see him anywhere. Johanna put her arm around me and whispered, “He has gone. He has a family again, Wendy, so feel happy for him.”

I sat on the chair I had used to rock him to sleep, and cried for a little while.

Afterward I turned my thoughts to those deceitful girls, Rikka and Gertrude. They hadn't shown up yet, so I hoped they had lost interest in whatever they were scheming. I was certain it had to do with Johanna.

Meanwhile, Johanna took out her little accordion. The children squealed happily and sat at her feet while she sang nursery rhymes. They smiled and sang with her, their hands clapping to the music.

Then Johanna looked at me and said in English, “This song is for you, Wendy. Listen carefully to this verse.” She began to sing:

Fly back again, back again, lady-bird dear!

Thy neighbors will merrily welcome thee here;

The children will dance and the skies will be bright;

You will find peace and love in the still of the night.

And there shall no perils attend thee!

The next day, when I met Barret, I told him about Johanna's riddle for me and asked him what he thought it meant.

“It is your riddle, Wendy Vendy. What do you think she is saying?”

“That somehow, I should leave Germany and go back to America.”

I
wore my new red dress to Lebensborn on Wednesday. I was sad because I knew little Hunfrid was no longer there. I would miss his voice calling to Johanna and me: “Ven-dee—Yo Yo!” I hoped with all my heart that he was safe and happy.

As soon as I entered the building, I looked for Johanna. Were Gertrude Ernst and Rikka Himmelman there with their evil plans to cause trouble for her?

I went to the playroom, hoping Johanna was there—but she was not. Instead Gertrude Ernst stood by the window, her arms across her chest, a cold, arrogant look on her face. Did I dare ask about Johanna? I was afraid to know what they might have done.

Frau Messner was walking among the children as I approached her. “
Guten Morgen,
Frau Messner,” I said in German.

“Oh, Wendy, what a pretty dress! You speak so well in German now. I can see you have a gift for languages like your mother does,” Frau Messner said with a half- smile.

“Thanks to Johanna,” I answered. “She's been my tutor and mentor. She's made learning German a pleasure.” Even though Frau Messner was smiling, I could tell something was bothering her. “Where is Johanna?” I asked, looking around.

Frau Messner gathered herself together, and a stern look came over her face. “She is being punished.”

“Why?”

“Because she will not give in and sign her paper, that's why.”

“But that's been her stand all along. Why is she being punished today?”

“I've been told I haven't been strict enough.” Frau Messner sighed and shook her head. “I admit that Johanna has been so helpful, I forget sometimes she is here to be disciplined. So for the past two days she has gone without meals and . . . she's cleaning toilets.”

I knew that Gertrude and Rikka had something to do with this. “Johanna is a wonderful person. She works hard, and the children love her. Why does she have to be disciplined?”

Frau Messner gave me a long look. I could not tell if she was angry with me for asking, or if she were sorrowful. “Gertrude and Rikka put her to the test—and she failed. She will not capitulate.”

“What kind of test? Who gave them the right to test Johanna?” I demanded.

“They tried forcing her to sign the form renouncing her religion.”

“Of course Johanna wouldn't give in. She is loyal to her own beliefs. That is why she is trustworthy in everything. You know that, Frau Messner.”

“
Ja,
what you say is true. I trust her with anything here in Lebensborn. However, I am supposed to be training her to be a loyal German,” Frau Messner said, “and I was recently told that I have failed in my duty.”

“But Johanna is a loyal German,” I argued. “She obeys the law and she is kind. Her people do not start riots or cause dissension. They do not lie or steal. Johanna is loving and clean and polite and . . . a lot better than most people.” I could hear the anger rising in my own voice, and I noticed Gertrude turn and look my way.

“Johanna is a tower of strength and yes, she is a good person.” Frau Messner looked down at her hands, which she clutched tightly. “However, she cannot win, don't you see?”

“I heard Herr Himmler is coming here today.”

“
Ja,
Reichsführer Himmler is coming to celebrate his birthday and to give a present to any child born on October seventh.” Frau Messner glanced nervously around the room. “And I would like to keep Johanna out of sight.”

Suddenly Gertrude and Rikka approached, obviously having overheard Frau Messner's words. “
Ja,
Wendy, you should be honored. You're going to meet Reichsführer Himmler in person,” said Rikka.

“It would be an even greater honor for Johanna!” Gertrude said with a laugh.