The Day the Flowers Died (5 page)

“I really do love poetry,” she insisted. Eli flipped through a
few pages and read aloud, loud enough for her to hear and soft
enough for the words to travel through the ears of the strangers
passing by.

E'EN as A LOVELY FLOWER 

     by: Heinrich Heine (1799-1856)

E'en as a lovely flower, so fair, so pure thou art;

I gaze on thee, and sadness comes stealing o'er my heart.

My hands I fain had folded upon thy soft brown hair, 

Praying that God may keep thee so lovely, pure and
fair 

“There is something about his words. The poetry… the words…
are  captivating,” Rebecca whispered, elating Eli by her
enthusiastic approval.

“He is one of my favorites. He blends French modernism with
German sentiment.” Eli turned the page to Heine's bibliography and
read the line quoted at the top without so much as a waver in his
voice.

 “Where one burns books, one will, in the end, burn
people.” Eli opened his mouth about to say something political, but
before he could, Rebecca interrupted his thought.

“Read me some more of his poetry,” she asked like a child with a
bedtime story. Gazing at her blue eyes that matched the sky, he
turned the page to find another poem. “I really like this poet,”
she said in her naïve age, never hearing of him before today and
not fully comprehending the significance he had for Eli.

“He’s more than a mere poet. He’s a writer and
political-religious thinker of Paris. Have you read him?”

Eli educated Rebecca as she shook her head no and then he spoke
in audible softness.

MY DARLING, WE SAT TOGETHER 

             by: Heinrich
Heine (1799-1856)

MY darling, we sat together, we two, in our frail boat;

The night was calm o'er the wide sea whereon we were afloat.

The Specter-Island, the lovely, lay dim in the moon's mild
glance;

There sounded sweetest music, there waved the shadowy dance.

It sounded sweeter and sweeter; it waved there to and fro;

But we slid past forlornly upon the great sea-flow 

Rebecca rested easily with Eli on her lap. He wrestled to keep
his eyes from shutting with sleep. Their intimacy from an embrace
on this almost secluded bench in the middle of a cold winter etched
into their bodies, the way his head fell onto her legs and the way
she kept his head afloat.  She was like the frail boat and he
the passenger, amidst a dim day with the sweetest symphony
surrounding them, sliding upon a great sea flow.

“Do you think it could stay like this forever,” Rebecca
whispered to him, “with us in each other’s arms, laying here in the
quiet breeze of winter.” She knew it could never be true, and yet
hoped it all the same.

“Nothing lasts forever,” he said.

“Then at least for a few hours,” Rebecca sighed, crumbling into
his chest with her head against his stomach. Eli lifted his hands
up to her snuggled head and stroked her hair in the few moments
left of pleasant retreat. Then he pulled himself off the bench,
lifting Rebecca with him.

They returned to their apartments, knowing they each had
obligations to fulfill before the day disappeared. Standing outside
the building, Eli continued with some of the thoughts heavy on his
mind.

“Prejudice and political unrest,” Eli thought aloud, wanting
Rebecca to join in.

“What do you mean?”

“Do you think they go hand in hand? When a country is falling
apart, it inevitably divides within itself.  People cling to
what they know, and fear foreign ideas and differences.”

“I think it takes a unique kind of a person to think or do
something differently from the majority of society,” Rebecca said,
and Eli curled his body into hers, holding her gaze.

“In these times, it’s important to think about these
things.”

“But it’s more important to laugh.” Rebecca tickled Eli and he
yanked away, holding his side.

“Rebecca.” He laughed, hoping she wouldn’t dare do it
again.  “I’m very sensitive.” Rebecca reached out anyway,
testing him with her fingers.  He grabbed hold of her and
tried to stop laughing.  Before they parted, Eli to his office
and Rebecca upstairs, he stopped her by gripping her arm.

“ Would you like to go swing dancing next weekend?”

“That sounds fun.” She nodded and Eli let go of her arm.

“Have you ever been before?”

“No, my mutti would never let me.  But I’ve always wanted
to.” She almost begged in her words.

“Then, I’ll pick you up just after the sun goes down Saturday
night.”

* * *

The crowds brought in by the music and dance of swing epitomized
what the youth wanted the country to be — soulful and free. 
It defined a counter sub-culture opposing the repression and
work-bent society of their time, longing for everything not German,
but English.  The bright lights circled around on the high
ceilings.  Young boys wore checkered jackets, showy scarves,
loud hats and swung their umbrellas as they passed the doors. 
Young ladies wore excessive makeup coupled with hair sprawled over
their shoulders, knowing this bright, boisterous room offered the
only place they could truly be free.

A high school crowd packed the room and a group of college
youths on occasion stood on their tables, shouting, laughing and
then sat back down. Colorful dresses worn by the young ladies
swayed side to side on the wood floor and then, when their partners
lifted them up, for the briefest moment, their exposed womanhood
reminded everyone in the room this place was like no other in
Germany.

The women cavorted high over the heads of the men bracing them
and then swung back to the floor.  Feet moved quickly, sliding
from one side of the floor to the other and the sound of heels and
toes smacking the wood echoed with each thud.  The band on
stage comprised of an anchoring rhythm section, loosely tied wind
and brass players, and a soloist who took center stage.

Rebecca couldn’t take her eyes off of the room, loud, bright and
free.  She had never seen anything like it before and wasn’t
sure if it was  proper. Eli grabbed hold of Rebecca, swinging
her about in his arms and then carried her onto the dance floor.
Rebecca tried to escape at first, pulling herself toward the wall,
unsure of her ability to dance. But Eli held her tightly, lifting
her into the air and rotating her around and around high above the
floor.  He placed his hands under her shoulders and then on
her stomach, raising her over his head as she gazed down at the
swirling world below her. The dark red dress, cut too low at the
neckline, swung as Eli held her with strong, sturdy hands.

Rebecca caught her breath when Eli placed her back on the wooden
dance floor. Though swing wouldn’t become widely accepted for
several more years, the lack of popularity of the dance didn’t
matter to Eli. He only ever followed his passions, and he was
passionate about two things for sure. Rebecca and swing. 

“That was wild!” She shouted to him over the sounds of reckless
rhythms, keeping a four beat jive.  Feet slid and jumped while
toes tapped across the floor.  A short robust young man with
dark hair, a flashy thick scarf, long black and white checkered
jacket and umbrella still in his hands slid over to Eli.

“Eli! You made it!” he shouted.

“I did.” Eli pulled her close to him, proudly displaying his
affections, “And this is Rebecca.”

“Nice to meet you.” The short man took her hand and kissed it
twice.  “I’m Jacob.” He held her hand and pulled her towards
him, twirling her.  Her eyes widened in surprise and Jacob
grabbed hold of her other hand before she collided into him. 
He tapped his feet and then, with a swing of Rebecca’s arms, he
danced with her for a moment before returning her to Eli.

He nodded when he let her go, grasping his short black hat to
pull it down in old fashioned politeness before tapping his feet
across the floor to the other side of the room where his other
friends awaited him.

Rebecca whispered to Eli in intimate closeness while Eli held
her waist. “What a character,” she giggled. Eli guffawed at his
friend’s antics and then mimicked Jacob’s audacity by pulling
Rebecca back onto the dance floor.  He grabbed her hands,
swinging them back and forth and moved his feet like everyone else
in the room, slowly at first to show Rebecca how and then quickly,
like he had done this many times.

Rebecca tried to keep up with him, laughing at herself and then
at Eli.  The band slowed down the music, out of a Gene Kardos
and his orchestra into a jazz-blues rhythm. The music beat like a
heart slowing until the floor became saturated with couples arm in
arm.  The lights dimmed and Eli held Rebecca close.

Rebecca draped her arms around Eli’s neck and rested her head on
his shoulders. They swayed in a naïve bliss forgotten by society
outside the doors.  When the slow jazz-blues music ended, the
band revived the quick stepping swing and the room filled up with
throbbing musical improvisations, causing everyone to get up and
dance. The long night of dancing tired their feet and they sat down
at a table near the wall.  Rebecca watched Eli laugh and
smiled as he watched the youth of his generation free and jovial
inside this room.

“When am I going to meet more of your friends or your family?”
Rebecca asked him with inquisitive eyes.

“New Year’s Eve, I’m having a party at my house and I want you
to come.  Many of my friends will be there.  They’re
looking forward to meeting you.”

“You’ve told them about me?”

“Well, not everything,” he smirked. “What about your family?
When will I get to meet them?” Eli turned away from the spontaneity
of the swing around him and focused on Rebecca.

“I’m not sure. I mean if you have time, you could come up for
Christmas.  My parents were asking about meeting you.”

“You’ve told your parents about me already. I must admit, I’m
impressed.”

“You haven’t spoken to your parents yet about me?” Rebecca asked
with a hint of hurt in her voice.

“It’s complicated with my parents.  I will, but I have to
find the right time.  After the New Year, I promise.”

“I’m not waiting any longer than that.”

“I would never make you.”

They left shortly after that, and Eli drove Rebecca, checking to
make sure she was warm. The weather had progressively cooled from
autumn into winter and snow already lumped up in corners of streets
and trees.  When they arrived home, Eli strolled with Rebecca
to the front door, bent down in her favorite spot of grass and
broke off a single rose dressed with a  light snow lace
dripping off its petals.

“I think we ought to keep this a secret,” Eli smirked while
handing the purloined rose to Rebecca.

“You could get thrown in jail or something,” she teased, knowing
the offense would only ever escalate to paying a fine to the
landlord.  “Then they’d throw me in there after seeing all the
evidence laid out in vases in my apartment.” She chuckled into
Eli’s coat shoulder.

“How are you going to keep all your flowers alive in this cold
climate?” Eli asked.

“I keep them close to the window for the morning sun and give
them lots of tepid water and nutrients.” She darted her head upward
with an idea.  “You know, you could help me next
weekend.  I’m going to change them into new pots and refill
their vases.”

“Next weekend?”

“The twenty-first.” She clarified the date, knowing Eli kept a
tight schedule.

“Alright,” Eli hesitated, thinking of his former obligation to
attend synagogue.  “I’ll see you in the afternoon.”

“About two?”

“Let’s make it three.”

“Alright, it’s a date, a garden date,” Rebecca smiled.  Eli
strolled with her up to her room, kissing her on the lips, and then
headed to his room.

The week progressed like all other weeks in Rebecca and Eli’s
life, going to work, coming home, and repeating the cycle all over
again until the weekend arrived, when they could spend time with
one another.

On the twenty-first, true to his promise, Eli knocked on
Rebecca’s door while he juggled a few pots, bags of soil, and vases
in a brown box.  He purchased the items during the week in
between his hectic schedule at work and stored them in the box for
this day.

The knock on the door ripped Rebecca from her work and to her
feet.  Eli walked in, lowering the box next to the wall, then
scanned the untidy room with pots and bags of nutrients sprawled
all over the floor and dining table.  A small gardening shovel
with an orange handle sat next to one of the pots on the coffee
table and many flowers lay in the sink, soaking with water.

“Wow, what a mess,” Eli chuckled realizing the grand project
he’d just entered.  “When you said repotting some flowers, I
envisioned a small venture.” Rebecca laughed at how little he knew
of her love for gardening.

“It won’t take too long,” she reassured.

“It’s no problem, really.  I didn’t have any other plans
for the rest of the day…or for the week, if it takes that long,”
Eli joked, walking to the sink to examine the flowers.  “You
have an assortment here.”

“Though winter, a few of the flower shops still hold a variety
and I collect them from wherever I can. They bring life to the
room, you know?”

Eli’s fingers tarried over a tulip in the sink and he pulled it
out to show her.  “I see the Cornflower I brought you is still
alive.  That must be a good sign.”

“Yes, it is.” Rebecca handed Eli a pot and pointed to the bag of
soil on the floor.  “You can start with refilling this
one.  The potted flowers are in this corner of the kitchen.”
She went to the box of flowers sitting in soil on top of the
kitchen counter.  “And the ones in the sink will be put in
vases with new water and nutrients.”

Eli scurried to the box on the counter and peeked inside in
awe.  “Where do you find all of these?”