Page 24 of Library of Forbidden Books

Before Gustav handed her off, he leaned forward and whispered, “My child, when you feel lost in life, don’t forget to follow the path that leads you home. We love you!”

Helene breathed deeply to keep even more tears from falling and gave her father a hug. Then Gustav held out Helene’s hand to Derek and moved aside, the most sacrificial step a father can take. “Take care of her,” he whispered.

“I will, sir,” Derek said, knowing he was stealing a treasure from the Weber home.

The ceremony was simple and sweet. The pastor’s message was brief. Before being pronounced man and wife, the couple spoke aloud the vows they had each written. Derek was intimidated to share his feelings in public, not to mention the fact that his bride was an expert writer. But he took a deep breath and began to read: “I will love you as long as there’s air in my lungs. Because of you, I have known what true love is. I would rather have one moment with you than an eternity without you. Before these witnesses, I pledge to you my love. I pledge to protect you and care for you all the days of my life.”

Helene bit her lip, then smiled through her tears and whispered just for him, “Well done, babe.” Then she began to recite her vows. “You are the best man in the world. I have never met a nobler soul. You’ll always be my home, because you’re my best friend, and there’s nothing I want more in this world than to share my life with you. I promise to love you, respect you, care for you, and bring you joy all the days of my life.”

The happiness surrounding the ceremony was palpable, momentarily chasing away the shadows shattering the world around them. The mothers in the crowd were dabbing their eyes. Amalia was swallowing hard to keep back her tears, and Lena had rested her head on Gabor’s shoulder, dreaming of when it might be their turn. Klaus was grinning and trying to capture the moment with a camera. Helene’s maternal grandparents were bursting with such pride in their beloved granddaughter that they felt a peace they had not known since Hitler had come to power.

The pastor raised his hands and said, “By the authority invested in me as an ordained minister in the German Evangelical Church and by the authority from God our Father, I pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride!”

The couple melted into one another in an ecstatic kiss. The guests burst out in raucous applause. Happiness was so near at hand.

Then, as the wedding party processed down the aisle, the sky darkened, the wind whipped up, flowers swirled around, and huge gray clouds billowed over the horizon. The smell of humidity overpowered the scent of wildflowers, and fat, chilly drops started to fall. Guests and the bridal party ran for cover, but there was no safe place to take shelter anymore.

Chapter 14

Sanity

Salzburg

June 26, 1933

Derek and Helene had agreed on a short honeymoon. She needed to be back to organize the transfer of the books to their new location, since Klaus had managed to rent the building in front of Gestapo headquarters. And Derek had to get back into the service as soon as possible. General von Blomberg had taken it upon himself to Nazify the army. Derek desperately wanted to leave his post, but it would be too dangerous for a change right then.

Their train was approaching the border with Austria, and within an hour they would be in Salzburg. Their final destination was Vienna, but Helene had requested one night in the charming gateway to Austria.

The newlyweds shared a compartment with a mother and her two daughters, a priest, and a man reading a newspaper. The headlines announced the dissolution of the Social Democratic Party, along with negotiations among the rest of the country’s political groups to form one party for all of Germany.

In contrast with the bleak news, the countryside could not have been more beautiful. Neither Derek nor Helene had ever been through Bavaria. Despite the warm weather, each town and village they came to seemed lovelier than the one before.

“How can this be the cradle of Nazism?” Helene whispered into Derek’s ear. It was best to avoid speaking of politics in public, as one never knew who was listening.

“Well, the region’s also known for their fine swine,” he said, and they both chortled. The man with the newspaper lowered it enough to glare at the couple.

“So what made you want to stop in Salzburg?” Derek asked. He was nervous that Helene’s answer would be more than simply enjoying a new place before getting back to their regular lives.

“Oh, it’s where the Austrian author Stefan Zweig lives. He’s one of my favorites. Anton Kippenberg asked me to take him some important letters.”

Derek cocked his head in surprise. That sounded like it could be dangerous. “Why did you say yes?”

“His publishing house, Insel Verlag, has published all of Zweig’s works, but now of course they’re banned in Germany, so Anton wants to know what he should do with the stock of Zweig’s books. He was able to keep a lot of them safe during the burning. We’re hoping to store them in our library, along with some of Zweig’s valuable manuscripts,” she explained quietly.

Her answer did not seem to satisfy Derek.

“You haven’t talked about the library in a few days. I know what you’re up to, but when so many lives are at stake . . . maybe the books aren’t the most important thing.”

It was Helene’s turn to be miffed. Derek kept his jazz records hidden, even though the Nazis had forbidden all foreign music, especially from the United States. Yet he seemed incapable of recognizing the travesty that the disappearance of books represented.

“The Nazis recognize that books are dangerous because they can change people’s lives and, therefore, the world. Why do you think literature is one of the first things they’ve gone after? The radio entertains the masses and tells them what to think, whereas books must be savored, digested, and interpreted.” Helene’s voice had gone from whisper to regular volume as she talked, and Derek gestured for her to be quieter.

“I understand that, I really do. But this isn’t the time to . . .” he began in as conciliatory a tone as his whisper would allow.

“We’ve got to save as many works of as many authors as possible, and Zweig is one of the most important. He’s written fabulous biographies, essays, and novels. His only crime is being Jewish.”

The priest, seated right in front of them, caught their eyes and motioned for them to be quiet, then pointed to the man with the newspaper.