Daisies Are Forever (23 page)

TWENTY-FOUR

M
itch returned to the demolished apartment house. Up and down the street, bricks and chunks of concrete littered the sidewalk and the roadway. Fires smoldered, women wept.

He wanted to forget every sight, every sound, every smell of this war.

Kurt lifted his head and acknowledged Mitch’s return. “How is Gisela?”

Now Kurt was interested in her? “Fine. The kinder are resting well.” He ignored Kurt’s stare and the questions written across his face and got back to work.

They labored with as much speed as possible, careful about which bricks to remove first, not wanting the building to collapse on top of whoever might be down there. They dug until Mitch’s fingernails were broken and his knuckles bled. Every little while, they paused, listened, prayed to hear sounds of life.

None came.

Darkness fell. Twice they had to stop because of air raids. No other bombers targeted this particular area today. If nothing else,
Mitch hadn’t felt this useful all war long. At least he wasn’t milking cows or mucking stalls. He was trying to save lives.

If there were lives to be saved.

Because of the blackout ordinance, they were unable to use floodlights or even torches to illuminate the ruins. They toiled in the thin light of the moon, alternating between digging and listening. His arms ached and his shoulders burned.

Kurt stopped and stretched his back. “Those British. They bomb innocent women and kinder. Hospitals too. What kind of monsters are they?” He pointed at his own empty sleeve. “We hit military targets and leave the civilians alone.”

Kurt was trying to bait him. “The Germans killed thousands of Londoners at the beginning of the war. You expected that they would treat the Germans differently?”

His poor German was, in all likelihood, a good thing. If he could speak the language better, he would tell Kurt just what he thought of the Nazis and their war tactics.

A beam of moonlight illuminated the German soldier who scrubbed his face. “Gisela is very beautiful.”

Now Mitch knew for sure Kurt was trying to get the best of him. “Ja.” He bent down and lifted away another couple of bricks.

But it was true. Gisela was beautiful. The kind of woman a man wanted to shelter, watch over, provide for. Mitch wanted to take her to England, show her his favorite spot under the willow tree, take her flying.

But she wanted to go to California. He had been away from Britain for such a long time, he hadn’t a thought of going anywhere but home.

“How did you meet her?”

“At a farm.”

“You don’t talk much.”

“Nein. We have to work.” Mitch put his head down and concentrated on the task in front of him. They would soon have to stop. Then he shifted a hunk of plaster.

He would never forget the gruesome sight that met his eyes.

Sleep eluded Audra in the few hours they were able to be upstairs when the all-clear had sounded. She should be exhausted. A few hours of rest here and there weren’t enough. But she lay wide-awake.

She hadn’t meant to make Gisela angry with her. This was going to be hard—being friends with Gisela while trying to make sure she didn’t go to England. If she did, Audra might never make it to America.

She crept from the bed she now slept in with Frau Cramer, careful not to disturb the woman. Gisela’s mother turned over and resumed her snoring.

The city lay in silent slumber. Blackout shades covered the windows, refusing any light entry to the apartment, but she imagined the fires burning red against the dark sky. For now, peace had descended.

Even with the destruction, she loved the vibrant heartbeat of the city. And imagined Hollywood. No more fighting every day to keep body and soul together. There were opportunities and she would take them.

She grabbed her sweater from the edge of the bed, wrapped it around her shoulders, and tiptoed across the creaking bare wood floors to the larger bedroom where the girls slept. Their breathing was congested but even. Gisela slumbered in the bed beside them. She hadn’t left them since they took ill. That would have given Audra the chance to spend time with Josep, if he wasn’t so busy digging bodies out of the collapsed shelter next door.

Audra leaned over Renate and felt the girl’s forehead with the
back of her hand. Still warm, but perhaps not quite as warm as during the day. Annelies slept with her mouth wide open.

The color of the children’s hair, as fair as wheat in the fields, reminded Audra of her younger sisters. All of the girls in her family were blessed with that beautiful feature. You could pick a Bauer from a crowd because of it.

She padded to the living room. At home when she couldn’t sleep, she would sneak to the barn and curl up in the hayloft beside the kittens. Their warm, purring bodies had a way of lulling her to slumber.

After all of the barns she had slept in the last few weeks, she never wanted to sleep in the loft again. From now on, it would be nothing but featherbeds and silk sheets for her.

She sat on the old, sagging couch in the dark. Kurt slept on the other davenport, the gray one, and Josep on the floor. With the lumps digging into her backside, she surmised the floor provided more comfort.

Josep stirred and thrashed about, moaning, then screaming, his breathing rapid.

She knelt beside him, touching his shoulder lightly. He calmed without waking, and his breathing returned to normal.

At last her eyelids grew heavy and she leaned her head against the back of the couch. Her body twitched as sleep claimed her.

Then the floorboards creaked and someone touched her arm.

Audra’s eyes flew open and she clutched her chest. She scooted deeper into the dark-red davenport. Kurt hadn’t meant to frighten her.

She stared at him. “What do you think you are doing?”

“I’m sorry. I thought there might be something wrong.”

She ran her fingers through her long, brilliant white-blond hair. “Nein, nothing. I couldn’t sleep.”

“Those Americans and Brits don’t want us to get any rest. They think they can break us that way.”

“They are wearing us down.”

“And what about Josep? Are you wearing him down too?”

“As much as possible. Today—yesterday—was more about planting seeds of doubt in Gisela’s head.” Audra sat straighter. “Have you seen the way he looks at her?”

Kurt lowered himself beside her, his hand on his knee. “You think he likes her?”

“Ja. Maybe he more than likes her. Like she is as vital to him as air.”

“Then we have to work harder. More doubts. More questions in their minds.” Gisela may be as vital to Josep as air, but she was as vital to him as his music. Without that, he had nothing.

She turned toward Kurt. “I admire you, you know. You don’t quit.”

How many times he had wanted to.

“You’re the type of person who can do anything he sets his mind to.”

“I couldn’t be a typist. Or a trapeze artist.” Or a concert pianist.

She giggled, pure and clean as a mountain stream. “Nein, I suppose I couldn’t see you in a room full of women on their typewriters or swinging from the rafters. But you could be a banker. A preacher. A professor.”

None of those professions held even a bit of appeal. Nothing but his fingers flying over the ivories.

She touched his empty sleeve. His missing digits tingled. “Oh, I know, you could be an escape artist. Can’t you hear the ringmaster shouting now? ‘Ladies and gentlemen, may I direct your attention to the center ring. The world-famous Kurt Abt is going to attempt to escape from this locked case, underwater, with one hand tied behind his back.’ ”

Her words stung. He knew she meant them in jest, but they hurt. Was that all he was good for? To be a circus act?

Audra backed away. “I’m sorry. That came out all wrong. I mean . . .”

She didn’t understand like Gisela did. She would never insult him, would never belittle him. He guessed she never even thought about his missing arm. She didn’t stare like everyone else did.

And most important, she brought the music.

He shook his head. Regardless of the careless words Audra threw around, he needed her. “Just remember the plan and stick to it. If we do that, both of us will get what we want.”

Josep stirred. “Hey, quiet here. A man needs his sleep.”

Kurt had forgotten about Josep on the floor. How much of their conversation had he heard?

What did he know of their scheme?

TWENTY-FIVE

April 16, 1945

G
isela couldn’t stand being cooped up in the apartment one minute longer. The girls’ colds had lingered for several weeks. She and Mitch had each caught it a week or so after they got sick. The cough stuck around. Finally, they were all feeling better. With the arrival of warmer weather, they would do well to enjoy it. She grabbed a sweater for each child. “Today we are going out.”

Annelies’s and Renate’s curls bounced up and down as they skipped about the tiny, crowded apartment. “Where are you taking us? To the zoo? I want to see the giraffes.”

Gisela shook her head. The zoo had been destroyed long ago. “Nein. The giraffes will have to wait until after the war. We’ll take a short walk today.”

Mutti buttoned up Renate’s gray sweater. She had outgrown it and the cuffs had begun to unravel. “You will have fun, nein?”

“Ja, I’ll run in circles.”

Mitch laughed. “See, that is fun.”

Gisela worked the buttons for Annelies on the sweater that
hung almost to her knees. At least she would grow into it. “Are you sure you don’t want me to stay and help with the laundry, Mutti? That is so much for you to do on your own.”

Mutti patted Gisela’s cheek. “Look how pale you are. I think you need the sunshine more than the girls. And we need our rations. You can fold the laundry when it is dry.”

Gisela hated to leave that work to Mutti. “We’ll be back in time for me to hang it.”

“Don’t rush on my account. Have a good time.”

Gisela kissed Mutti’s wrinkled cheek. When had she started looking so old?

Kurt came in from the kitchen. “Going for a stroll is a splendid idea. If you will wait for me, I will come along. Would you like that, girls?”

Gisela shot a look at Mitch, then at Kurt. “We won’t be gone long. We all still tire easily. Too much excitement isn’t good for them. Or us.”

Audra also joined them from the kitchen. “A walk in the fresh air sounds wonderful. As soon as I have my sweater, I will be ready to go.”

Just that fast, she disappeared, Kurt following in her wake.

Mitch grabbed Renate and shoved Gisela toward the entrance. “Let’s get out of here before they get back.”

“But . . .” Annelies tugged at Gisela’s sleeve.

Gisela slapped her hand over the girl’s mouth. “Tell me later,” she hissed.

Mitch nodded and winked, the gesture warming her more than the April sunshine. They didn’t need Annelies to repeat what he had said.

Mitch hadn’t left. Every day she expected to awake and find him gone, vanished. Out to locate his countrymen.

He had never said he would stay with her. Yet he didn’t leave.
What happened to change his mind? He had been so anxious to leave earlier.

After they descended the stairs and reached the out-of-doors, Mitch flashed his dimples. “Whew, that was a close shave.”

“Should we wait for them?”

“I say let’s get going before they catch up to us. It’s a lovely spring day.”

“I smell fire.” One part of the city or another was constantly burning now.

“Use your imagination. You’re in a field of daisies, the breeze blowing the grass at your feet.”

The image made her want to weep. These kinder deserved to have such a childhood.

“Why so sad?” Mitch stopped and invited Renate for a piggyback ride.

Gisela shook away the disturbing thoughts and gave a smile she hoped wasn’t too fake. “I’m not.”

He galloped close to her. “At least I am enjoying myself.”

“I never said I wasn’t.”

“Then enough with the doom and gloom. Today is a holiday from the war.”

The corners of her mouth crept toward her cheeks. “I didn’t realize the war took holidays.”

“Of course.”

“First, the bread. Perhaps today we won’t have to stand in line very long.”

Gisela’s wish didn’t come true. They joined the queue for the bakery before they even turned the corner to the shop. Another lengthy wait for a few meager rations.

Annelies and Renate chased each other in circles around Mitch’s and Gisela’s legs, drawing them closer to each other. He
wrapped his arm around her waist. They fit together so well. Like God had made them for each other.

Had He?

She snuggled her head into the crook of Mitch’s arm. “I wonder if Kurt and Audra are looking for us.”

His dimples deepened. “I’m sure they are. Let’s hope they don’t find us.”

“That’s mean.”

“Haven’t you noticed the way they try to separate us? Get us alone with them?”

“Audra likes you.”

“And who wouldn’t?” He flashed his impish grin.

She jabbed him in the ribs. “Modesty doesn’t become you.”

“I wasn’t trying to be modest.”

“I know.”

Annelies wriggled between them, pulling them apart. Mitch hadn’t denied having feelings for Audra. She hadn’t given up her campaign to win his heart. Every chance she got, she batted her long eyelashes at him and jumped to meet his every need.

Gisela supposed he liked it that way. A bit of the day’s luster wore away. “When are you going to leave?”

“Sounds like you want to get rid of me.”

“Don’t you want to?”

“Yes, I would like to get back to the lines, to rejoin my mates. To fight for my country. If I don’t hurry, I’ll miss all the action.”

“I’ll miss you.” And she would. More than she would admit, even to herself.

“You make it very hard for me to leave.”

Conversation buzzed around them. The woman in front of them had rather a loud voice.

“I still can’t believe the news.”

The woman’s companion leaned in, looking ready for a good bit of gossip. “What news?”

“Don’t tell me you haven’t heard? Don’t you have a radio? Do you ever leave your house? The American president is dead.”