OLDENBURG, GERMANY—DECEMBER19, 1916
Max, guided by Nia, walked with Anna and Emmi through snow squalls on their journey to school. He gripped the handle to the dog’s harness, feeling the sway of her body as she plodded through the snow. Their conversations were muffled, due to gusting winds that compelled them to cover their faces with scarves. Reaching the barn, cold and shivering, they shuffled inside.
“Fleck will surely limit your training time today,” Emmi said, closing the door.
Anna stomped snow and ice from her boots, and then loosened her scarf. “Ja. I can’t feel my toes. He won’t want to take the chance of anyone catching frostbite.”
I hope so,Max thought, shuffling to the cast-iron stove.Each day that graduation is delayed gives me more time with Anna.
With extended arms he located the stove, kneeled, and began to insert wood and old newspaper. Neither the windburn on his cheeks, nor the hunger in his belly—due to the meager portions of turnip he’d eaten for the last several days—dampened his spirits. For most of the night, as well as their morning slog to school, his mind had been on Anna. In less than three weeks, he’d gone from a battle-blinded veteran, who’d nearly given up on his will to live, to a man with hopes and dreams. And, Max believed, it was all because of her.
It was Anna’s perseverance and compassion that had saved Nia, who was now saving him. With Nia at his side, he would break the shackles of dependency. He could do almost anything with a guide dog, he thought, including travel on trains and the navigation of unfamiliar streets and cities. His confinement to an apartment—or at most a radius of a few city blocks—was now expanded to all of Deutschland, perhaps even all of Europe, assuming there wasn’t a war and that he’d someday earn enough money to travel. Although the guide work that Nia performed was essential for his quest for independence, it was her affection and companionship that was most important to him. He cherished their time at home, when Nia lay at his feet, cuddled with him on the sofa, or gave him an occasional lick to his cheek. In return, he’d brush her fur and rub her belly, all the while telling her what a smart, good dog she is. They’d become close partners, and he hoped that Fleck would, in the end, overlook Nia’s feeble paw and allow her to go home with him.
He was deeply grateful to Anna. She’d given him far more than dog handling skills and the chance of having Nia as his guide. She and hervaterhad welcomed him into their home and treated him like family. She’d empathized with his injuries, the death of his parents, and his failed engagement, yet she didn’t allow him to dwell on his misfortune. Day by day, she’d urged him to carry on, and his heartbreak gradually transformed to hope. Despite his initial skepticism, her encouragement for him to imagine high-pitch notes had worked, rekindling his passion to play the piano. And Anna had reminded him of the root reason that he’d performed as a musician: to give others joy and an escape from the hardships of life.It doesn’t matter that I can’t hear the high tones, he thought while playing “Clair de lune” by Claude Debussy.What matters is how an audience feels when listening to the piece.His fondness for Anna had bloomed, perhaps into something more than friendship. However, he knew that nothing more would ever come of it.
The door screeched open, and wind blasted the interior of the barn.
Fleck, Max thought.
“Are you finished with your chores?” a gruff voice said.
Waldemar.Max tossed wood into the stove.He’s early.
“Almost,” Anna said, sweeping out a stall. “Where is Herr Fleck?”
“He was summoned to a meeting with Dr. Stalling and directors at the Ambulance Dogs Association.” Waldemar puffed his chest. “He put me in charge for today.”
Irritation rose in Max’s chest.
“Did Fleck say how long he wanted us to work in these conditions?” Anna asked.
“Nein,” Waldemar said. “But he did request for me to arrange for indoor work. Finish your chores and get outside. You’re training in town.”
Max shut the door to the stove and stood.
“Frau Bauer,” Waldemar said. “After you’re done with your work here, Fleck wants you to go to the ambulance dog shelter and check on the shepherds with kennel cough.” He looked at Anna. “He plans to put them back into rotation with the veterans, which means that you and your lame dog will likely be back in the barn.”
Max clenched his hands.
Waldemar turned and left, leaving the door open.
Frigid wind gushed into the barn, and Emmi darted to the door and shut it.
Max shuffled to the sound of Anna’s sweeping broom. “We can handle Waldemar for a day. He’s jealous of you and is trying to get under your skin. If Fleck’s intentions were to replace you and Nia, he would have done so days ago with his dog, Elfriede.”
“I suppose you’re right,” Anna said.
“Go,” Emmi said. “I’ll finish the work here, and then leave for the shelter.”
“Are you sure?” Anna asked.
“Ja,” Emmi said. “I’m glad you’ll be working indoors.”
“You too,” Anna said.
Max, Anna, and Nia went outside where Waldemar—his coat collar turned up to block the wind—was sitting in his wagon with his dog, Gunda. As Anna approached the bed of the wagon, Waldemar turned and said, “What do you think you are doing?”
“I thought you were going to give us a ride to town,” she said.
