Part 21 (1/2)

Sunny stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him. She scattered kisses along his neck and cheeks. When her lips found his, he kissed her back, tasting the salt of her tears.

Despite his overwhelming relief, a different form of uneasiness took hold of Franz as they held each other on the street. He realized it might have been better for everyone had his wife's secret been as simple as a romantic dalliance. He broke free of her embrace. ”Sunny, if you were to be caught . . .”

Tears flowed freely down her cheeks. ”I was so angry with them for what they did to Irma and those boys. For what happened to Father. And I was ashamed with how little I had done. It seems so foolish and rash now, but I only wanted to contribute-to make some little difference-and instead I may have ruined everything.”

Franz grasped her upper arms. ”What exactly have you done, Sunny?”

”Not so much.” She composed herself and wiped her eyes dry. ”All they have asked me to do so far is gather information.”

Franz suddenly understood. ”General Nogomi's office! That is why you were so interested, isn't it?”

”Yes,” she admitted, ashamed.

”This cannot continue, Sunny. You must cut your ties with them.”

”I want to, believe me, but Wen-Cheng says . . .” Her voice cracked again. ”I am not sure they will let me.”

”They have to! I will tell Wen-Cheng.”

Sunny looked down at her feet. ”It's not only General Nogomi's office they are interested in.”

”Who else's?”

”They want me to get inside Colonel Kubota's office.”

The hairs on Franz's neck stood up. ”Are they planning to harm the colonel as well?”

”I . . . I suspect so, yes.”

”This is insanity, Sunny. He is the only ally we Jews have ever had here.”

”I tried to talk to him, but he wouldn't listen.”

”Who?”

”My contact . . . He is the only one I ever met besides Wen-Cheng.” She paused. ”He's an old man, infirm-pitiable, really. But there is more to him than meets the eye. There is anger, and something else . . .”

”What else, Sunny?”

”There's something . . .” She shut her eyes. ”Very dangerous about him.”

CHAPTER 30.

Hannah couldn't control her trembling. She had already started toward the checkpoint twice but had turned back each time. She was sweating underneath her bulky coat. The corners of the cigarette cartons dug through her s.h.i.+rt and into her sides, as though she were buried up to her neck in a trash can.

Hannah couldn't help but think again of Freddy and Leah, whom she had stumbled upon at the noon break behind the schoolhouse. They stood, sharing a cigarette, in the same spot where days before Freddy had kissed Hannah. He was his usual unflappable self, but Leah looked as guilty as a child caught with her hand in the cookie jar.

Your imagination is playing tricks! But it was futile. There was no mistaking the intimacy between them. Why would Freddy ever choose me over Leah? She is so beautiful, and I am just a cripple.

Hannah suddenly spun around and vomited against the wall of the nearest building. An old Chinese couple stopped to stare at her. Evading their eyes, she wiped her mouth and hurried down the street. The money will help my family, Hannah told herself.

But it had never been about money. Besides, Esther had been so suspicious the last time. Hannah remembered her aunt's expression of disbelief as she stared at the five-dollar bill without reaching for it. ”Where did you get so much money, Hannah-chen?”

”I told you, Tante. A friend from school felt sorry for me-for us.”

”For us?” Esther said evenly. ”We are among the fortunate.”

Hannah nodded to Jakob, who was happily tugging at the b.u.t.tons on Esther's sleeve. ”With the baby and all.”

Esther frowned. ”Which friend?”

”She asked me not to say.”

Esther nodded knowingly. ”She did, did she?”

”Please, Tante Essie,” Hannah said. ”I knew Papa would ask so many questions. That's why I came to you. Besides, what does it matter where the money came from? We can put it to such good use.”

The darkness drained from Esther's eyes, and her lips curved into one of her wise smiles. She reached out and stroked Hannah's cheek. ”Oh, Hannah, you must understand. It always matters where the money comes from.”

In the end, Esther accepted the money, but Hannah knew she could not go back to her aunt with more unexplained cash. Her father would surely find out, and his disappointment would be the least of her worries if she were caught by the guards. It was such a great gamble. This is the last time!

Hannah stood up straight and combed her fingers through her hair. She took a deep breath and headed toward the Muirhead Road checkpoint. As she approached the intersection, she saw the pao-chia guard on duty across the street. She recognized his lanky frame and sharp features. It was Herr Einhorn, a senior member of congregation at the Ohel Moishe Synagogue. Hannah had often seen him parading self-importantly around the refugees' temple. With his hawkish face and suspicious eyes, Einhorn was one of her least favourite guards.

She considered backtracking to enter the ghetto at the far end, via the Wayside Road checkpoint. However, the j.a.panese soldiers who had been at the post when she had exited the ghetto were nowhere in sight now, and it seemed better to take advantage of their absence. Nauseous with anxiety, she lowered her chin and crossed the road to the checkpoint.

Hannah waited at the curb while Einhorn scrutinized the exit pa.s.s of the man in line ahead of her. After several questions, which seemed to her more detailed than the usual cursory screen, Einhorn finally waved the man through.

Suddenly racked with doubt, Hannah began to back away from the checkpoint, but Einhorn beckoned her forward. ”Come ahead, Fraulein.” He chuckled. ”I won't bite.”

Hannah bundled her coat tighter around her and took two hesitant steps toward him.

”I know you.” Einhorn smiled coolly. ”The surgeon, Adler. You are his daughter.”

”Yes.”

His eyes narrowed. ”You were here last week as well, were you not?”

Fear welled in the pit of her stomach. ”I have a Russian friend who lives in Frenchtown,” she explained, trying to stay calm.

Einhorn wrinkled his nose. ”Neither the French nor the Russians have been great friends to the Jews.”

Hannah looked down. ”I lost track of the time, sir. I am late to return. I was supposed to help my stepmother prepare dinner.”

”Yes,” he said. ”Your father married that local Oriental woman, did he not?”