Behind the Bedroom Wall (13 page)

Korinna nodded briefly in agreement.

“I can't believe that some of them are still in town. Not that it does them any good with their synagogues closed and their shops closed. I'd think they'd all want to go live somewhere else with other Jews. At least they'd be with their own kind.”

“Isn't Frau Reineke your mother's best friend?” Rita continued, once more burying her chin in her neck scarf.

“I suppose they're friendly. Or at least they were,” Korinna said. She knew that wasn't exactly the truth. The truth was that they had been the best of friends since they were children, and they still were.

“Well, I certainly hope Frau Reineke's bad habits didn't rub off on your mother. Not that I think your mother is anything less than an absolutely loyal German,” Rita added quickly.

“They haven't seen each other lately,” Korinna lied.

Rita nodded. “That's good, because any friends of the Reinekes will probably be under suspicion now. At least that's what my brother told Papa.”

“Did Hans also tell him that he searched our
house?” Korinna asked bitterly before she could stop herself. “And that he hit my father? Hans knocked him on the floor.”

Rita looked startled, and she shook her head. “No, Korinna, I swear, he didn't say anything about that. What happened?”

“He was ruining some of my mother's photographs and my father told him to be careful. Hans hit my father and made him bleed.”

“I didn't know that, Korinna. Honest, I didn't.”

Korinna shrugged as if she didn't care, carefully taking control of her anger. “Hans was just doing his job. Papa shouldn't have interfered,” she said, trying to sound nonchalant.

Rita nodded. “That's true, but still, I'm surprised Hans hit your father. Hans is usually so gentle.”

Korinna suppressed a shudder. Visions of Hans kicking Herr Haase the other day popped into her mind. And the Hans she had seen the night he'd searched their house had been far from gentle.

Korinna turned down her path. “I'll see you tomorrow.” She waved to Rita and then stepped into the warmth of her house.

As she took off her coat and boots, she realized her hands were trembling.

She found her mother in the front room. She was sitting in the dark with the curtains wide open.

“Mother?” Korinna said softly, sitting down beside her on the couch. She could see the sheen of tears on her mother's cheeks. “Mother, what's wrong?”

“Frau Reineke,” was all she said, reminding Korinna what Rita had told her. Her mother's best friend had been arrested for harboring Jews. Would her parents be next? she wondered as she took her mother's cold hands into her own trembling ones.

Suddenly her mother let out a sob, which sounded like it was wrenched from the bottom of her soul. The sound ripped through the quiet of the room and squeezed Korinna's heart. Frau Rehme put her arms around her daughter and cried against Korinna's shoulder. Korinna pulled her mother close, feeling helpless, yet somehow in charge.

Her mother had always been there to dry her tears. That's what mothers were for. But now she consoled her mother, murmuring under her breath and rocking her back and forth. She suddenly felt grown up, something she'd longed to be for quite some time. Only now she wasn't sure she liked the feeling, or the heavy sense of responsibility that came with it.

Herr Rehme finally came home, later than usual. He joined his family in the dark front room, enveloping his wife and daughter in his long, strong arms. No one said anything for quite a while. Finally Korinna's mother said, “The Krugmanns are probably hungry.”

It wasn't until the last few minutes of the
Jungmädel
meeting, after school the next day, that Korinna and Rita had a chance to talk.

Korinna eyed her friend nervously for a few moments, then she took a deep breath and said, “Rita, do you remember Anita Scheinmann?”

“That scrawny Jew?”

“That's right. The skinny little thing who used to live next door to me. Do you ever wonder what's happened to her?”

Rita glanced up from her tassel. “Every once in a while. Why?”

“Well, I wonder, too. I mean what's happened to all the Jews who used to live around here?”

“They've been sent east to live with other Jews. They're happier there with their own kind.”

“Do you really think they're happier?”

“Of course they are.”

Korinna nodded in agreement and didn't say anything.

Finally Rita broke the silence between them. “Do you think about the Jews a lot?”

“Not a lot,” Korinna said hastily. “Just once in a while.”

“Oh.” Rita lowered her voice. “I think about them more than just once in awhile.”

Korinna raised her gaze from her tassel and stared into Rita's blue eyes. “Really?” she said.

“Sure. I almost feel sorry for them.”

“You do?” For a moment Korinna felt a wave of suspicion wash over her. Was this some kind of a trap? she wondered. She looked around the room, but no one was taking any notice of them. She looked back at Rita, but her friend was intent upon her project. Korinna felt ashamed of herself for suspecting Rita. Rita was her very best friend. It wasn't Rita who was lying and keeping secrets, it was Korinna. She was the one not acting like a best friend.

“I feel sorry for them, too,” Korinna whispered under her breath.

“I thought you hated Jews,” Rita said, also keeping her voice down.

“I did until—well, until a little while ago.” As much as she trusted Rita, she just couldn't bring herself to tell her about the Krugmanns. Not yet.

“I don't really hate them,” Rita said. “I just pretend so people think I do.”

“I always believed you,” Korinna said. “You should be an actress some day.”

“I'd rather be a nurse. Hans told me they need nurses at the work camps to help the doctors who care for the Jews.”

The camps couldn't be all that bad if they had doctors and nurses attending to the Jews, thought Korinna. But somehow it didn't make sense to her to lock up the Jews in work camps, and then give them medical care. She couldn't help wondering how much “care” they actually got.

“By the way,” Korinna said, “have you seen my black book?”

Rita raised her pale blond eyebrows. “No, why?”

“I can't find it and I know I had it yesterday. I probably left it at home. It's just that—”

“Let's go,” Rita said, interrupting her friend. The leaders were calling all the girls together.

“Wait for me after the meeting,” Korinna said, twisting the extra twine into a ball.

“Oh, I can't,” Rita said hastily.

“Why not?”

“I have to run an errand for my mother. You go on without me, and I'll see you tomorrow.”

Korinna nodded slowly. “Okay,” she said, trying to shrug away the uneasy feeling that suddenly settled on her shoulders like a heavy, itchy wool sweater. “I'll see you tomorrow.”

As soon as Korinna walked in the door her mother called to her from the kitchen.

“What is it, Mother?” she said when she saw the drawn look on her mother's face.

“Sit down, Korinna,” Frau Rehme said.

Korinna sat down at the table where her mother was peeling and cutting carrots. Cut onions were also on the table, no doubt accounting for the teary look in her mother's eyes.

“I've told you about Herr Krugmann and Ruth, Sophie's husband and fourteen-year-old daughter?”

“Yes, Mother, you've mentioned them. Rachel talks about Ruth all the time. What's happened? Is something wrong?”

“It's Ruth,” her mother said slowly. “She had pneumonia for weeks, but nothing could be done. She died last night.”

Korinna sat in stunned silence. All she could imagine was Rachel's face when she heard the news. “Do Frau Krugmann and Rachel know?”

Korinna's mother nodded. “I told them as soon as I heard.”

“Why couldn't they call a doctor?”

“There was no doctor in the area who could be trusted,” Frau Rehme said sadly. “They did what they could for her, but living above a barn where it was cold and damp was the worst thing for her.”

“Why didn't they move her?” Korinna demanded. She couldn't rid herself of the image of Rachel proudly bragging about her older sister. She must be devastated.

“The family that was hiding her couldn't move her. There was no safe place to go at the time,” explained her mother. She got up from the table and came around to hug her daughter. “I'm so lucky to have you,
Liebling,”
she said softly.

Korinna felt her throat tighten. “Can I go see Rachel?”

Frau Rehme hesitated. “You can try. I don't know if she'll see you, though.”

Korinna nodded and went upstairs. In her room, she quietly deposited her book bag by the wardrobe
and then pulled the curtain over her window closed. She didn't care if it looked suspicious, she thought with a sudden flare of anger. It wasn't fair that she had to sneak around and try to act normal when everything was so—so mixed-up!

She knocked on the wall. Slowly she opened up the wardrobe and looked into the dimly lit room.

“Hello, Frau Krugmann,” she said softly, crouching down before the woman. For a moment they just stared at each other in silence. “Can Rachel come out for awhile?”

Sophie looked sadly at her daughter, who was curled up on the small mattress she used as a bed at night and play area during the day. “Rachel, do you want to play with Korinna?”

Rachel shook her head.

“Come out and draw with me,” Korinna said.