A Flicker of Light (8 page)

“Would you like to feel something? The baby is kicking,” Petra said.

“Oh yes, could I?” The flour spread across the floor as
Siegland
wiped it quickly from her hands.
Siegland
reached over to Petra and put her palm carefully on the girl’s large abdomen. Movement rippled across Petra’s belly, filling the older woman with joy at the sign of a new life.

“Have you thought about names?”

“No, I haven’t, really. I suppose I should.”

“There’s still time.”

Filling the dough with vinegar and raisins, and then carefully forming the strudel,
Siegland
lifted the tray and put it into the oven. With an oven mitt, she removed the cookies she’d baked earlier and turned to Petra.

“Smell that; it’s wonderful, eh?”

“Yes.”

“Let’s have some cookies with our tea.”

Nodding, Petra smiled as she took the tea kettle down from the hook above the stove and filled it with water. Then, placing it on the burner, the women waited for the whistle indicating the water had come to a boil.
Siegland
placed two tea bags, so difficult to come by these days with the war, into the pot. “We must allow some time for it to steep, so that the tea will be good and strong.”

The sugar cookies we
re baked just right and tasted like ambrosia
. Although she did not mention it, Petra marveled at how
Siegland
and Hans had come by so many supplies during such a time of lack.

The following day, Petra watched as
Siegland
made butter. With the help of a large wooden bucket with a vertical wood plunger in the center, the woman’s skilled hand churned the milk into a wonderfully delicious, spreadable concoction. “So, now that we’ve got fresh butter, w
e will
bake
some bread so that
we will have fresh bread for ou
r lunch.
”

“Yes, all right. May I help?”

“You can, yes, of course, but I think maybe it’s not such a good idea; maybe it would put too much strain on the baby. You are not used to kneading dough, and I
think maybe it would pull
on your stomach.”

“May I sit and watch you then?”

“Oh, yes, I would love that. You
can help just by being here,
”
Siegland’s
face broke into a smile as she looked at Petra.

Once the bread rose, it went into the oven. Within fifteen minutes the house felt warm and cozy, with appetizing scents filling the air.

“I’d better be careful. I think I might just get fat here.”

“Good, fat is healthy. It will be good for the baby when it comes.”

Petra laughed, and it sounded like the tinkling of a bell.  She watched as
Siegland
prepared the ham and sauerkraut they would have with the bread for lunch.

“Tomorrow, I will make cheese; you ever made cheese?”

“No, I haven’t. I’m afraid I haven’t done much of that sort of thing. I grew up in a fishing village. I know how to clean fish, but that’s about the extent of my domestic knowledge.”

“Well, don’t you
worry.
Today we start the culture, and tomorrow we s
tart the cheese. It will take
several weeks till
it’s ready, but once it is; well, you will see how good
real homemade cheese can be.
”

“I can’t wait. I don’t know how to tell you just how much I appreciat
e all that you have done for me
and for the baby. I don’t know how I will ever repay you.”

“
Oh, come on, we haven’t done anything
so special. We love hav
ing
you here.”

“Well, thank you. I don’t know what else I can say.”

Shyly turning back to her cooking,
Siegland
felt a completeness that she had longed for all of her life.

Chapter 7

W

inter still loomed over the family. The highlands of Germany were covered in opaque, crystal blankets of shimmering white snow. Klaus collected the eggs, tended to the horse and milked the cow. While waiting for the return of warmer weather, most of their food remained stored in a cellar beneath floor in the barn. The previous fall,
Siegland
had spent weeks canning so they would be ready for winter. Before the temperatures dropped, Klaus had slaughtered and smoked a hog to provide meat. Warm blankets hung from hooks scattered about the house in various colors, examples of
Siegland’s
knitting skills.

Now things had changed. Instead of making Klaus another pair of gloves to add to the ten she’d already made for him,
Siegland
spent her evenings knitting baby blankets and booties. Before Petra awakened one morning,
Siegland
spent several hours in her sewing room. An experienced seamstress who had made her own clothing since her mother had taught her at nine years old, she had no trouble assessing Petra’s size. She carefully cut from a bolt of wool that she had kept for years with plans to
someday design a special dress. It was a gift from Klaus that she’d never found an occasion to use until now. The wool was a rich gray color which reflected like silver in the sunlight as it seeped through the sewing room window.
Siegland
hummed softly as she expertly ran the material through the needle of the machine. When Petra awakened,
Siegland
presented her with a pair of trousers and a heavy tunic-style shirt.

“This is good for the winter. I will make you a sweater too. You’ve got no warm clothes. I can’t let you catch cold.”

Petra ran to
Siegland
and put her arms around her. She
kissed the older woman’s cheek,
“Oh, you are so good to me, like a mother.”

“I don’t do much, really. Here try it on. Make sure it will fit. After the baby is born, I will take it in for you, so you will be able to use it still. Come on. Try it on. Try it on.”

A perfect fit, the warm clothing felt comfortable and allowed enough room for movement. “How did you ever know my size?”

“I’m guessing it just worked out good, eh?”
Siegland
winked at her and laughed. Petra laughed too.

“It’s very beautiful. I will never be able to thank you enough.” A single tear of joy and appreciation trickled from her eye.

“No crying. Come on, we will eat now, eh?”

Petra nodded her head as she followed
Siegland
to the kitchen.

Although, Klaus had eaten much earlier and left to work in the barn,
Siegland
did not mind preparing a second meal for Petra and herself. In fact, she enjoyed it.

That night as they sat by the fire,
Siegland
knitted, Klaus smoked his pipe and Petra read. After an hour, the women brought dessert out to the table. The satisfying fragrance of freshly-brewed coffee wafted through the room. White, doughy cookies sprinkled with sugar and an apple strudel beckoned enticingly.

“You know how to read?”
Siegland
smiled, struck with wonder at Petra’s unexpected talent.

“Oh, yes
,
ma’am.”

“What kind of book is that?”

“It’s the only one that I have with me, a book of fairy tales. I brought it when I left my parents’ home. I thought it might be nice to have for the baby when it’s born.”

“Why did you leave?” Klaus asked. “Don’t you think it’s time that you told us?”

“Klaus be quiet. She will tell us when she is ready. Don’t push her like that,”
Siegland
said as she gave Klaus a reproachful stare.

“I’m sorry. But maybe we should know?”

“Yes, you should. You are like family to me now, and I trust you both, so I will tell you. I escaped from Heim
Hockland
the
Lebensborn
home. My parents did not approve of my illegitimate pregnancy. I am from
Norway
. My boyfriend, the baby’s father, whom I planned to marry, served as a German soldier. We met when Germany invaded
Norway
. My family and friends didn’t approve of him because everyone thought of the Germans as the enemy. When my family found out I was pregnant, they were very upset, so I left. That was when I signed myself into the home.”

“How did you ever get involved with a soldier, especially one who was invading your country?” Klaus asked.

“I know it seems strange, but when Hans introduced himself to me - the first time we spoke as he sat at a table in my father’s tavern - he said with the brightest smile I’d ever seen and a wink of his blue eyes, ‘Hello,
Frauline
. I
am Hans. And I must tell you something. I came all the way from Germany, and in all of my travels I have not seen anything as lovely as
you.’ He could be very charming,
” Petra continued, “Hans and I were the same age, and I guess for a time I forgot that he was a German soldier. To me he was just the most handsome fellow I’d ever met.”

“Yes, it can be like that sometimes.”
Siegland
went over to Petra and put her arm around the young girl’s shoulder.

“After I entered Heim
Hockland
, Hans was moved unexpectedly from his base in Germany to the Russian front.  He was supposed to be discharged in six weeks. We had planned to get married then. We thought I would be out of Heim
Hockland
before the baby was born. But after he died in battle, everything changed. I knew that if I stayed at the
Lebensorn
home without a German husband, they would take my baby. I couldn’t let them. I couldn’t. I had to run. Besides, if the baby showed any abnormities at birth, they would have killed it. I’m sorry. I couldn’t tell you the truth before. I was afraid. I am still afraid. I have so much at risk. Forgive me, please.”

Klaus stared at Petra; his face had gone pale.

“Please don’t turn me in,” Petra said, more to Klaus than to
Siegland
.

“Child, dear, dear child - we would never do that. Petra, you should know better. Never be afraid of us. You are now
of our family
,
eh? Klaus, what do you say?”
Sie
gland
reached over and patted her husband’s knee.

“Yes
, my darling
. Of course, yes.” His head bobbed as he nodded quickly.
“She is
a relative who is staying with us for a while.
If the Nazis should come asking questions
, we will think of a good story to tell them
.”

“Oh, you are both so wonderful. I w
ill leave when the baby is born,
I promise. I will not continue to trouble you.”

“Please stay as long as you like. We are happy to have you here. This is your home now. We want to be your other family, not to try to replace your mother and father, but to be an extra set of parents. Isn’t that right Klaus?”

“Yes, of course it is.”

“And about that book, maybe you can read it to us?”

“Why not?”
Petra smiled, “I would love to.”

And so began a nightly ritual of stories that Petra read to her newfound family. As the fire warmed the room with orange flames that crackled and sputtered in the fireplace, Klaus quietly whittled toys for the baby. 
Siegland’s
large, man-like hands worked tirelessly, clicking her knitting
needles as she made blankets, booties, clothes, and hats for the child that would soon ar
rive. A comfortable sense of peace came over the room.
Petra’s soft voice
held them enthralled
as she read the stories of mermaids and swans, of an emperor fooled by his own vanity, of a tiny girl the size of a thimble, and of a pair of red shoes.

Many nights, Klaus would leave and go out without explanation, but
Siegland
and Petra spent all of their time together as the winter nights quietly flew by. By the time she’d finished reading the book, April had arrived, bringing with it an influx of gray days haunted by rain. Petra had grown large
r
and was almost ready to have the baby. Klaus told her that he knew of a neighbor, a midwife, who might be willing to take some canned goods in trade for her services. Petra was grateful. The delivery worried her, but she found she had other concerns as well. Even though she tried to ignore Klaus’ nighttime departures, she could not help but wonder where he went and what he did. The idea that he might be somehow endangering himself was foremost on her mind.  One evening after Klaus had gone out, Petra and
Siegland
sat sipping tea.