Daisies Are Forever (11 page)

Gisela smiled at Kurt. “Danke.”

His fingers, the ones that were no longer there, could almost feel the cool ivory piano keys. A warm satisfaction spread through him. “They need to be entertained.” He aimed an expressionless stare in Josep’s direction.

Annelies stuck her tongue out and concentrated on the scribbles on the page. “I need to eat.”

Josep rumpled her hair. “Are you hungry?”

Annelies nodded. “Ja,
Onkel
Josep. I want candy.”

Kurt’s rival smiled that ridiculous smile. “Nein, no candy.”

“I will get you some soup from the Deutsches Rotes Kreuz. The Red Cross has a table on the other side of the bahnhof. How will that be?” Kurt stood and brushed off his pants before grabbing Gisela by the wrist. “Tante Gisela and I will go.”

She tugged her arm from his grasp. “Nein. Where I go, the children go.”

Josep also rose. “Me too.”

Kurt sighed. Would he never be able to get Gisela by herself?

Annelies dropped the pencil and it rolled away. “I want to go.”

“We all will. Audra, you stay here with Bettina and Katya.”

Audra’s green eyes turned cold, but she nodded her consent. “Don’t be long.”

What a hassle it was to do such a simple task as getting a bowl of soup.

Josep swung Renate on his shoulders and the little girl shrieked in delight. Kurt stared down at Annelies, expectation written across her face.

Curse his empty sleeve.

Unwashed bodies pressed in on every side of Gisela. The crowd in the bahnhof had swelled throughout the morning. She wandered in the general direction of the soup kitchen the DRK had set up.

She wished they still had their cart, loaded with food, packed with love from home. But wishing wouldn’t bring it back. Envy rose in her chest when she spied two middle-aged women munching on a large stick of knockwurst. Her stomach growled. There were two of them with plenty to spare. It had never been her favorite food, but it would be more filling than a bowl of thin soup. She had to ask.

“Excuse me.” They kept on chewing, the heavier woman wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

The thin woman fluffed her gray-speckled hair. “What can I help you with?”

“These are two soldiers who fought gloriously for their fatherland.” Never mind that they fought for opposite countries. “Could you spare a little of that sausage?”

They stared at Gisela, then at each other. The thinner one scooted closer to her traveling companion and motioned for Gisela to sit. “What sweet little girls. How old, do you say?”

Play on a woman’s nurturing instinct to get her what she wanted. “Just three and five. They have been through so much.”

The bigger one stopped chomping on her food. “Oh, look at their freckles. My granddaughter has freckles. I love them. What is your name? Where are you coming from?”

“I’m Gisela Cramer from Heiligenbeil. We’ve run low on food because one cart fell through the ice on the Frische Haff and the other we had to abandon to catch a truck. The walk was too hard on the girls.”

“I can imagine. My granddaughter would never be able to walk all the way from Heiligenbeil to here. And she’s ten.” She turned to her friend. “What do you say?”

The smaller one nodded. “I think so.” She produced a knife and proceeded to slice a generous hunk from the sausage and wrap it in a cloth napkin. “What about these soldiers? Where were you injured?”

Kurt jumped in with an answer. Just as well. Mitch wouldn’t have to open his mouth. “Russia. Both of us.”

“Ach, surely we have a few slices of bread and some cheese for these poor men.”

Her friend got busy searching through their backpack. Before too long, she produced the requested items.

Gisela dug out a few cigarettes, the day’s currency, from her pocket. “Danke, danke. I wish I had more for you in return.”

The skinny one waved away the offering. “You keep those. You never know when you will need them.”

“But I insist. Vater always told me to never be a borrower or a beggar. I’ve done the begging, but I’d like to pay for what we have taken from you.”

Again the woman declined the offer. “Are you headed west on that ammunition train due today?”

She spoke so low, Gisela was sure she had heard wrong. “There is a train coming? Is it going to Berlin?” Mitch stepped beside her and touched the small of her back. Was the thrill she felt from his contact or from the news about the possible train?

“The rumor is that one is due. Be on the lookout. I don’t know where it is headed, but anywhere west is fine with me.”

“I have to get to Berlin.”

The chubby woman smacked her lips. “I wouldn’t worry about the destination right now. Just get on that train and get west as fast as possible.”

“But . . .”

“You don’t know when the next one will come. Or if it will.”

Mitch broke their agreement for the umpteenth time. “Ja, she’s right, Gisela. Whatever train comes, we take.”

But west without Mutti? “Danke. For everything. We will think about it.”

Their newfound friend locked gazes with her. “Nothing to think about. Whatever you have to do, get on that train.”

Kurt chatted beside her as they turned back toward Audra. Gisela tuned out his senseless babble. They did need to hurry west. What if they were too choosy and missed their opportunity entirely? They could get caught by the Soviets and be in worse shape than they were now.

But more than anything, she longed to be with Mutti. It had been two years since they had seen each other. And she had to make sure with her own eyes that Mutti was safe. Especially when she heard about the bombing of the capital city.

They located Audra and their two elderly companions with little trouble. Gisela sat beside her. “I have a surprise for you.” She opened the off-white napkin and revealed the treasure.

Three sets of eyes lit up like candles in a dark room.

Audra leaned forward. “Where did you get this?”

“We found two women a little way from here. They were eating knockwurst and I couldn’t resist the temptation to ask them for some.”

Kurt drew a pocketknife from his coat, divided the meat, and gave it to the girls. Noticing that her part of the share was much larger than the others, Gisela switched portions with Mitch. She avoided looking at Kurt.

Gisela bit the once-despised, now-loved meat. “That’s not the best part.” She whispered and Audra leaned closer. “They told us an ammunition train is due here today, headed west. I just don’t know if it’s for Berlin or not. I have to get home.”

Mitch broke off a piece of the sausage for Renate. “We have to get on the train.”

“What if it is headed more south than west? It could be going to Frankfurt or Bavaria for all we know.”

Mitch pulled her to the side and spoke in English. “Do you want the Russians to catch you?”

She shook her head.

“With trains no longer running on a regular basis, who knows when one will show up.” His cheeks bore no signs of his dimples.

“I have to protect the children.”

“Then get on the next train, so long as it’s headed west. No matter where.”

She choked down the meat. If she ended up in Frankfurt or Dresden or any city other than Berlin, how would Mutti ever find her? Would they ever be reunited?

Annelies pulled on her coat. “I want to go on the train. I don’t want those bad men to come here.”

Gisela peered at the little girl, her pert nose turned up a bit. Pleading, excitement, and fear all shone in her pretty eyes. The same emotions churned in her own stomach. How long would it be before the Soviets entered Danzig? She couldn’t risk letting the Russians catch them. Not again.

“If the train comes today, we’ll go on it. How is that?”

Annelies nodded and so did Mitch.

The day wore on with no sign of a locomotive. They dozed the afternoon away until the sun stopped streaming in the windows and darkness fell.

Gisela rubbed her eyes and ran her fingers through her greasy hair. “The train isn’t coming today, is it?”

“Train, train.” Renate bounced up and down.

Mitch caught the child when she tottered over, then shrugged. “Hope and pray God will send one.”

As if he were a prophet, in the distance a train’s whistle sounded. “Train, train,” repeated Renate.

Gisela laughed. “That sounds like one, doesn’t it?”

Mitch shot to his feet and pulled Gisela to hers. “Let’s go. We have to be in front if we ever expect to get on.”

They grabbed their sacks and Gisela clung to each girl’s hand, desperate not to lose them in the crush of people headed toward the tracks. As a group, the three of them twisted and pushed and maneuvered to position themselves as close to the arriving train as possible. Kurt and Audra came behind them, each dragging a Holtzmann sister. Several meters from the tracks, they could go no farther. People were packed in shoulder to shoulder and hip to hip. They couldn’t have moved even if they wanted to let the little party to the front.

The train chugged into the bahnhof, like Santa Claus dragging his feet on the way to a child’s house. No sooner had it slowed to a near stop and belched a puff of steam and coal ash did the crowd surge forward.

They were carried onward by the wave. Women with sweet, round faces pushed old men to the side without apology. The old men swore. The girls cried as they were pressed against Gisela’s legs.

She turned her head to see if Mitch was still behind them. Nowhere in the crowd did she see his dark head. Where did he go? They needed to stay together. “Josep! Josep!”

The shouts of the horde drowned out her screams. No one answered.

She glanced to her left, hoping to see him. Instead, Kurt headed in her direction. He beamed a crooked smile. Another heave by the crowd and he joined her. “Keep moving forward.”

She squeezed each girl’s hand to make sure she still gripped them. The throng squashed her so she couldn’t move her arms from her sides. She propelled herself forward, no matter how small the steps. Her goal, their salvation, lay mere meters in front of them.

The black iron horse grew larger and larger, and after several
more minutes riding the ebb and flow of the mass, they reached the tracks.

They stood in front of the passenger car, the steps several meters on either side of them. The windows were either cracked or missing altogether. Women handed their children to strangers through the openings. If moving forward had proved difficult, moving sideways toward the stairs was impossible. They were unreachable. She didn’t know what to do.

Two graying heads popped out of the window directly in front of them. The thin woman with the knockwurst leaned out as far as she could. “Hello there, Gisela.”

She would have waved but couldn’t.

Kurt pulled Annelies from her grip.

Gisela’s throat threatened to close. “What are you doing?”

“Getting the girls on the train.”

“Nein, nein.” Even her shouts were ineffectual against the racket of the crowd.

“Do you want them on here?”

“Not without me. They have to stay with me. I made a promise. If you put them on this train, I will never find them again. I won’t leave them with strangers.”

Kurt took no heed of her pleas. With his one strong arm, he lifted Annelies to the window. “Grab her and take her in,” he shouted to the woman.

“Ach, of course. We’ll take the kinder.”

One plump hand and one bony hand each reached from the window and grabbed Annelies by the wrists.

“Don’t take her from me.”
Oh God, don’t take her from me.
Before she could reach to pull Annelies back, the worn soles of the child’s shoes disappeared from sight.

Gisela picked up Renate and pressed her against her chest. “Don’t take this one. She stays with me.”

But despite the fact that she clung to Renate with all of her might, Kurt tugged the child from her grasp and handed her up in the same manner. She beat his single arm, but he didn’t let go.

Renate disappeared from her sight.

Annelies appeared at the window. “Aren’t you coming with us, Tante Gisela? I don’t want to go with these ladies.”

“I’ll come, I promise. They will watch you for a little while until I get onto the train.” She turned to Kurt. “Lift me up. Now.”

“I can’t. There is no way I can lift your weight with my one arm. The kinder are smaller.”

“Then bend down and let me stand on your back. Or shoulders.”

The engine hissed and blew another puff of steam, then another. The couplings creaked as the wheels began to turn.

“Now. Lift me up now.” Gisela couldn’t catch her breath. She had to get on the train.

It chugged and chugged some more, picking up speed and momentum.

The carriage containing the girls moved away from her.

The train was leaving.

With the girls.

Without her.

TWELVE

M
itch scanned the crowd in the train station, first to his left, then to his right. The engine belched steam. Where were they? They had to be here. Right beside him. How could he have lost Gisela and the girls? Not to mention the rest of their little band. He beat his arms against the people mashed against him. If they would just move. At last, he managed to get his arm above his head to wave it. “Gisela! Gisela!”

No return wave. No answer to his call. Sweat trickled down the side of his face.

For a moment, just a small moment, he had leaned to the side to try to gauge how far they were from the train and what the chances were they would be able to get aboard. In that split second, someone had pushed between him and Gisela and then more and more people until she was lost to him.

By the time he turned back to them, they were out of sight. Gone. All of them. In this vast train station, he couldn’t locate anyone he knew.

Separated.

Again.

He couldn’t swallow.

The crowd pressed in on every side, cutting off his breathing and his circulation. “Bitte, bitte.” He dared to use his German.

The wiry, pimple-dotted teenage girl next to him took up his cry. “This man is a soldier. Let him through. Get him on the train.”

“Nein, nein.” What if they didn’t get on? They needed his help. He needed theirs. Like Gisela would insist, they had to stay together. “The women and children go.” He pushed a pretty young blond woman with four children ahead of him and up the steps to the compartment.