Part 38 (1/2)
”Don't do that.” She held a mirror up to inspect herself, then turned to Audra. He didn't recognize her face. Nein, she couldn't disappear.
She tipped her head to the side. ”Deepen the crease marks around my mouth and eyes and that will have to be sufficient.”
The demanding foreign voices with their harsh-sounding language approached ever closer. His palms sweated and he managed a breath every ten seconds or so. Gisela huddled in the corner of the bas.e.m.e.nt beside Mitch. Audra slid into the empty spot beside Kurt.
He leaned over to whisper in her ear. ”You can't let them get this close. Not at a time like this. You should rely on him; she should be here with me.”
”I'm watching. Trust me.”
Kurt wiped his damp hands on his rather tight khaki pants, borrowed from Frau Mueller's much smaller husband. They had at last convinced him to burn his German officer's uniform. He shouldn't have to be ashamed of who he was.
”You'd better work fast. This war is almost over. And then what? They will run away to the west and leave us alone here. We can't let that happen.” He didn't know if he was more afraid of the Red Army or of losing his muse.
Bettina sat at the edge of her seat. ”Moscow, Sister, can you imagine? Remember being here years ago? Let's go see the colorful roofs of St. Basil's.”
Frau Mueller grasped Bettina's arm. ”Later, ja? Soon it will be supper time.”
Jorgen sat dazed between the Holtzmann sisters and listened to them argue about what they would order in the Moscow restaurant tonight.
A higher-pitched scream broke out, cutting off the sisters' banter. Frost formed on the inside of Kurt's blood vessels. Gisela rose and snuck to the narrow window.
”Women. Large-boned Russian women high on the tanks, shooting their guns in the air and hollering like cornered rabbits. The Mongols weren't as bad as them.”
”These are your allies, Josep. The people you have teamed up with to defeat Germany. What do you think of them now?”
Josep didn't answer, but fire smoldered behind his eyes.
While her back had been turned, Audra had snuck into Gisela's vacated seat next to Mitch. She clung to his elbow, her head on his shoulder. ”I can't take much more of this. All of this yelling and shooting is frightful. How will any of us survive?”
No doubt about it, she batted her eyelashes at him. She practiced her English on him. ”Please, tell me about England. I go to your house.”
Mitch shot Gisela a glance, one dark eyebrow raised. She shrugged.
Kurt patted the empty spot next to him on the bench. ”Come sit here, Gisela.”
Mitch raised his other eyebrow. Good, raising doubts in his mind.
She moved like a wooden toy and took the seat beside him.
”There is nothing to worry about.” He patted her knee.
”I wasn't worrying.”
”Those communists won't harm me. If Josep can pretend to be German, I can pretend to be English. I will say I lost my papers and identification in the POW camp.” Kurt reached for her hand, which she pulled away to scratch an itch on her nose. This wasn't what he wanted. Had Josep told her what happened at the warehouse?
”You sound rather confident.”
”I am. When this is over, I will take you to my parents' home in Bavaria. You can rest and enjoy the quiet of the forest and the mountains. The air is fresh and clean, the countryside beautiful. Perhaps Oktoberfest will begin again in Munich. I want to show you the sights.” If she saw his home, she would want to stay.
”That is a gracious offer, but I have to find Mutti. Ella will come for the girls, I will take the Holtzmann sisters to their niece, Vater will return, and then I will leave for home.”
”This is your home.”
”America.”
Kurt shook his head. ”Nein, you are German through and through. What little bit of American you had in you is gone.”
A shadow pa.s.sed over her heart-shaped face. The music in his head turned soft and slow. ”I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you.”
”Please understand.” She turned to him, her gaze holding his. ”Germany hasn't been kind to me. I lost my sister here. We were closer than most. America is where my happy memories are. Where I want to be. Away from the war and death this place brought.”
She couldn't leave him. He couldn't allow it. ”You have awhile to decide. I will help you situate both sets of sisters and locate your parents. By then, Germany will have healed.” If he could convince her to stay . . .
”You need to return to your home and your family, and I need to go to mine.”
He grabbed her hand and pressed her fingers into his palm. ”You must come with me, for the music.”
Her forehead scrunched. ”The music?”
”When I am near you, I hear the dancing of the notes. The music I thought I had lost along with my arm.”
”I don't give you the music.”
He sat straight. ”But you do.”
”Music comes from the heart.” She touched his chest. His lungs expanded. ”When you hear it, your heart is speaking to you. Not me. At home, the place you love, the music will come back. And I will be in the front row of your first concert.”
”Don't you see? There will be no more concerts. A one-armed man will never play the piano. The melodies in my head are all I have left.”
”G.o.d will give you the music. You could direct. Or teach.”
”I could never do it. I was born to play.”
”With G.o.d's help, you can do anything. Look at what we have survived.”
She was slipping away from him, though he squeezed her hand. ”I love you, Gisela.”
She yanked her hand from his. Kurt's mouth went dry. ”It's not me you love; it's the idea of me. You love the music you think is only with you when I'm nearby. But you don't love me. And I don't love you, Kurt.”
He stared at the gray concrete floor, clenching his jaw. Without her, without the music, his life would be empty.
”G.o.d will give you the music. Trust Him. Love Him. It will come.”
Kurt first fell in love with music in his hometown church. The swelling of the organ filled his soul. Once he had joined the n.a.z.i party and entangled himself with them, that music failed to stir him. Could the Lord give back that gift?
She touched his shoulder. ”When you go home to Munich, one day a woman will come along and you will love her. All of her. Not just the idea of her.”
A requiem played in his head. Yet he heard the organ chords, and a spark lit deep inside. Perhaps, just perhaps, he needed to pray for the return of his beloved music.
Across the room, Audra touched Josep's stubbly cheek.