“Ja, but you and Norbie need more than turnips and occasional pieces of black bread,” he said. “We’re in this together. Remember?”
She wanted to argue with him, but instead she tightened her arms around him. “You nearly frightened me to death.”
“I’m sorry.” He placed a palm over her hand.
She nuzzled to him.
Floorboards squeaked from above them, and a light flickered in the stairwell.
“Anna, Max!” Norbie, wearing his bedclothes and a coat, descended the stairs with a cupped hand protecting the flame of a candle. “I heard a clamor. Are you all right?”
Anna felt Max’s hand slip away.
“Ja,” Max said. “I took a tumble down the steps.” He carefully stood, and then helped Anna up from the floor. Candlelight flickered over his face.
Anna took the handkerchief from Max’s hand and dabbed a bit of blood from a nostril. “Your nose doesn’t look broken.”
“Danke,” Max said, retrieving his handkerchief. He turned toward Norbie. “I’m sorry to have awakened you.”
“Not at all, my boy,” Norbie said, placing a hand on Max’s shoulder. “Are you sure that you’re okay?”
Max nodded. He reached his hand and located Nia, then stroked the dog’s head. “None of this was your fault, Nia. You did a good job of helping me find the banister. It was me who was not being careful.”
Nia nuzzled against his leg.
“How about I take you outside?” he said, rubbing the dog’s ears.
“I’ll come with you,” Anna said.
Max shook his head. “I appreciate your offer, but soon I’ll be on my own. I’m likely to have many tumbles and mishaps in my future, and it’s probably best if Nia and I learn to work through them on our own.”
“All right,” Anna said, the truth stinging her.
“Dankefor your help, Anna,” Max said. “And Norbie, I appreciate you coming to check on me.”
“You’re welcome,” Norbie said.
Max clasped Nia’s harness, and together they exited through the door leading to the garden.
A blast of frigid wind prickled Anna’s skin. Her heart prodded her to wait for him to return and climb the stairs, but her brain understood that Max was right—it was best to allow him to recover from his accident on his own. Reluctantly, she scaled the two flights of steps with Norbie, where they said a second good night and went to their separate rooms. She dressed for bed, adding an old wool sweater to help keep her warm, and then crawled under several layers of blankets. Minutes later, the shuffle of boots and the patter of paws grew in the hallway, followed by the creak of a door.Thank goodness. Anna, her veins still flooded with adrenaline, whispered two prayers: one for Bruno and another for Max. But long after she’d gone to bed, she remained awake, reliving Max’s fall and the fear—of him being injured or worse—that had shaken her core.
Three days passed, and Bruno had not arrived in Oldenburg, nor had Anna received a letter or telegram to inform her of his whereabouts. Both Norbie and Max had reassured her that the journeys of soldiers from the front were often met with delays, and that Bruno would eventually arrive. But with the passing of time, her worry spiraled. To distract her mind, she buried herself in guide dog training and each evening she stayed up late, until she could no longer keep her eyes open, transposing Max’s composition.
In addition to consuming herself with work, Anna strived to make certain Max was getting added nourishment to prevent more episodes of fatigue. Because Max remained intent on sharing his military rations with her and Norbie, Anna resorted to stealthy methods of altering portion sizes. At meals, she gave Max the biggest turnip cutlet or an extra ladle of leek soup. But when Max insisted on helping her carry their plates of food to the table, he’d discovered—by examining slices of black bread with his fingers—that he was receiving a larger portion of food. Therefore, she’d resorted to slicing Max’s black bread at twice the thickness as the others, then compressing his slice with her hand to create equal depth.Same size but twice the density. He’ll get a bit more nourishment, even though the bread contains wood pulp.
Her attempts to battle Max’s weariness by giving him more food had worked. For the past few days, despite grueling obstacle course training and canvassing many kilometers of cobblestone streets in the cold, he hadn’t had another incident of dizziness, although he did, at times, require moments to catch his breath. “Gas, you know,” he’d often say to Anna while pausing to suck in air. It wasn’t unusual for the veterans to have ailments in addition to their blindness. In fact, many of the veterans in class had other afflictions, including a man who tottered when he walked due to embedded shrapnel in his leg, and another veteran who required training on the opposite side of his guide dog due to nerve damage in his left arm. And Anna was disheartened to think that the veterans, even after they’d regained their independence through a guide dog, would still be battling maladies long after the war was over.
At the end of a tedious day of training, Anna, Max, and Nia walked to the station and waited for the evening train to arrive. And like the days before, the passengers exited the carriages and mingled out of the station, leaving the trio alone.
An ache grew in Anna’s stomach. “I’m worried that something bad has happened.”
“He’s fine,” Max said, stepping to her with Nia.
“How do you know?”
Max paused, as if he was carefully choosing his words. “Our military is proficient with promptly notifying families of unfortunate events. Bruno’s parents would have informed you if something had happened.”
She drew a deep breath.
