He shouted to the others to get my bag. A moment later it was shoved at me.
Hands shaking, I reached in, finding the little zipper inside and grasping on with numb fingers, pulling it with some effort until it released. I handed the man my ID and waited for the questions I knew would come next.
“Lena Klein,” he said, reading my name and looking at the photo and then me.
I nodded.
“And what, Miss Klein, are you and these two gentlemen doing out on the river at this late hour?”
The words were cordial, the tone was not, and though I was quaking inside, Max had prepared me for this, taking me in the car two days before to a spot where no one could see or hear as he shouted in my face over and over until I could answer without fail each of his questions.
“I am going home,” I said simply. For it was the truth.
My innocent answer seemed to stump him for a moment and so I continued.
“We got trapped behind enemy lines when the Allies came in. We’ve been in hiding. Biding our time. We’d hoped they’d get pushed back and were waiting it out. Unfortunately, they didn’t and we waited too long.”
He glared at me, shining his too-bright light in my eyes, trying to shake me. I feared my knees might give. I could assess an open stomach wound without so much as a tremor, but this... At any moment I knew this man, just for the fun of it...just because no one would stop him, could shoot me if he thought my answer not good enough.
“And who are they?” He sneered and turned his light on the men in the boat.
“Klaus, our guide,” I said, gesturing to one man and then the other. “And Max, my uncle.”
Again, he glared at me and then motioned to the men watching the boat. There was a splash as one of the oars fell overboard, and the two men were hauled from the boat and shoved by rifle barrel up the hill.
“Papiere!”the soldier shouted and both men pulled their identification papers from deep within their layers of clothing.
Klaus’s were inspected and then passed to one of the other soldiers who gave it a long look before handing it roughly back to its owner. But it was upon the inspection of Max’s papers that the soldier examining it took a small step back, his entire demeanor changing.
“You are Maximillian Brunner,” he said, eyes wide as he held out the papers.“Entschuldigen sie, herr.”
Max’s demeanor too had changed now, his shoulders pulled back, his facial expression haughty as he took his time collecting his papers, gaze flicking over the young man before him that had stood so tall before, but now shrunk a bit in size, worry prevalent in his eyes.
“Apologies are not necessary,” Max said, smiling coldly as he tucked his papers away inside his jacket. I watched in fascination as he smoothed back his hair, his chin raised. It was not just that he seemed like a different person, he looked like one too, all by the mere act of changing his body language. “You were only doing your job, isn’t that right, soldier?”
The way he said “soldier” made it sound like an insult and the younger man flinched.
“Yessir,” he said.
“But now that you have interrupted our little journey and scared my niece, perhaps you would like to provide us a place to sleep for the night and a vehicle in the morning to resume our journey?”
My blood turned cold. How badly I wanted to turn and stare at him. To grab his sleeve and beg no. Not here. Not with these people. But I couldn’t. To do so would turn their eyes back on us, and perhaps they’d demand to search us more thoroughly, finding our hidden IDs in the process.
“Absolut!”the soldier said, and then shouted to his men to gather our things and bring the boat ashore. “You will stay with me, of course. I have plenty of room. I am Hauptmann Keller, at your service.”
“Wonderful,” Max said and fell in step beside him, the two men suddenly acting like old chums as I glanced worriedly at Klaus, who merely gave me a grim smile and held his hand out for me to follow along.
Two of the soldiers, who’d only minutes ago been aiming guns at us, carried our bags. I kept an eye on them, making sure neither got curious and slid a hand inside our things.
The accommodations of the young captain weren’t grand, but the house had two stories, a large downstairs, a fire in the fireplace...and it smelled of food.
“You are hungry?” he asked.
I didn’t want to say yes, but my stomach grumbled quietly and along with the others, I nodded.
“Come. Sit. I’ll have the cook bring you some food.”
I tried not to look at my surroundings. Tried to ignore the furnishings that had clearly belonged to a family and not this single man. But it was impossible to miss the small chair built for a child at one end of the table.
