In Progress Writing!!! Romance

Dear Allies

Chapter Ten

I took the train to Vienna, and sat in the back on the bumpy ride. I never replied to the few people’s pleasant, “Good morning”, instead pulling back with my head down and sinking deeper into the seat. 

I heard softer footsteps coming closer and closer to me, and I lifted my head, surprised to see Stephen taking a seat next to me. “Hello,” he said pleasantly, setting down his own gray backpack next to my briefcase. “Hi,” I said, more timidly, scooting my briefcase closer to me. Stephen frowned. 

He lifted my briefcase up, only to set it down moments later in the same spot. “It isn’t safe,” he insisted immediately, and I sensed that he could tell where his grenade had ended up. “Just in case,” I persisted, and he leaned closer. “No, I mean it isn’t safe for you to be out, with no papers.” My mouth hung open. My papers were in my book. How did he know? “Why isn’t it safe?” I whispered, looking around. It looked safe enough for me. 

“Nazis are demanding to see papers left and right! If your papers are in your briefcase, and an officer comes up to you, asking for your papers, you will have to open your briefcase in front of him, and the grenade tumbles out with your papers! You don’t understand, Emi, that everything matters. Everything.” 

I had never heard Stephen use such a stern and serious tone before. But my brain snatched onto one word especially. 

“‘Emi’?” 

He grinned. “So much better than Emilia, right?” I nudged him with my elbow. “I guess,” I teased, grinning. Stephen grinned as well, and we both burst out laughing. Then Stephen’s face turned serious again. “But really, Emi, you have to be careful. And now, instead of being able to pull open your briefcase now, you will have to go somewhere more secluded and remove those papers, soon.” I nodded, my smile fading. 

We both went silent when an older woman walked by us, carrying her purse as though it weighed the world. In her defense, though, it was very large. Stephen stiffened, sitting up straighter and his face turning stoney. I hurried over to the woman, taking her handbag for her and carrying her to her seat. 

“Thank you, sweets,” the woman thanked me, sitting down heavily in a seat far too close to me and Stephen’s to be an accident. “You’re welcome,” I replied, smiling a smile far too large to be real. The woman tilted her head. “What’s your name, honey? What is wrong?” Stephen sent me a warning glance as I replied, “My name is… Sofie,” Stephen’s eyebrows shot up. He looked impressed. I just smirked. He should know by now; lying is my specialty. “and nothing is wrong,” I added quickly, “I’m just tired. With all of the commotion these past few days, no one can ever be too careful,” The woman smiled. “I understand. My name is Alice, by the way. All these confusing decisions that the Nazis have been making can’t leave you too careful,” I nodded in agreement, but was eager to get back to my seat. 

Alice smiled, and motioned to the seat next to her. “If you don’t mind, sweets, you can sit by me,” she offered, her smile sinking into the deep folds of her face when I looked… less than enthusiastic. When I opened my mouth to say “no thank you”, Alice simply sighed, as though she knew what my response would be. I must have looked guilty, because she added, “Don’t worry about me, hon, I just wondered if you needed a seat,” I smiled, than admitted, “Oh thank you, but I’m sitting with my friend over here,” I pointed in the direction of Stephen, who politely waved. Alice smiled again and motioned for me to sit next to him. 

I plopped down next to Stephen, the guilt inside of me cooling just a little. Stephen leaned closer to me, his breath warming my cheeks as he whispered, “Good job with the name introduction,” he murmured, adding, “I didn’t realize you were such a good liar.” I smiled, my cheeks flushing. “Yeah, thanks.” I whispered back, smiling slightly. Stephen leaned back into his seat, a smirk-y smile appearing slowly across his face. 

I pulled my light brown hair back into a tight braid, smoothing out any bumps. I ran my hands down the front of my uniform, smoothing the wrinkles out of my blouse before sitting up straighter and tilting my head up. Stephen looked at me funny. “Why are you sitting like that?” he asked, and I grinned. “This is how the Gruppenfuhrer wants me to hold my head, so I figured I could practice.” And on that note, it reminded me of the fact that the Gruppenfuhrer would be back today. 

What would she say when she realized that the whole squad was gone but me? Luckily, all the other Hitler Girls would be there, from all across Germany, but it wouldn’t stop Winter from noticing that I was the only girl there.

“You okay there?” Stephen asked, leaning over my lap to look into my eyes. I blushed, murmuring, “Yeah, fine, sorry.” he leaned back into his chair again. “I heard that you locked a group of German Girls in your grandparent’s cellar,” he said casually, his hands behind his head. I gasped. 

“How do you know about that?” 

“Word gets around when you lock Hitler’s favorite daughters in a food storage.”

“That’s not funny, Steph.” 

“Steph?” 

“Hey, if I get ‘Emi’, you totally get ‘Steph’!” 

Stephen made a face. 

“It’s not that bad!” 

“Yeah, because ‘Steph’ isn’t a girl’s name!” 

“It’s not!”

“Um…”

“Okay fine, maybe a little… But I’m not changing it!” 

Stephen sighed. “Ugh, fiiiine. But don’t blame me when someone comes up to us and asks us if we have any relation.” I shoved him hard in the shoulder at that, and we both burst out laughing. “Shush!” I whispered, clamping a hand over his mouth when a gentleman walked down our aisle, staring at us like cucumbers in a field of corn. Stephen shut up at that, and grinned innocently (or his version of innocently, since I kind of thought it looked even more suspicious) at the man. Thankfully, the man moved on, but not without a glare in our direction. 

“You really need to work on your lying techniques,” I whispered over to him, and Stephen’s face turned neon. “How would you know? You’re just as bad as I am!” He protested, and I gave him another hard shove. “Am not!” I argued, pretending to be offended. “I lied to Alice just fine, and I could tell you were impressed! You said so yourself.” Stephen looked annoyed at my small victory, and instead chose to poke me in the shoulder. “Hey, Emi, want something from the cart?” He motioned toward a cart stacked high with rolls, hot tea, sweets, and plenty of other pastries and candies that were passing by. A short, stubby woman pushed it using the metal rungs that stuck out of the front of the cart. I opened my mouth to say no, I wasn’t hungry, but Stephen handed over a fistful of wrinkled bills to the woman and asked for two slices of black forest cake and two steaming mugs of coffee, with extra caramel. 

“You didn’t have to do that,” I informed him as the server lady handed him his treats and pushed the cart toward the next row of seats. “Oh, I know,” Stephen grinned, passing me one of the thick slices of cake, and sliding a steaming mug of coffee next to the cake. 

Black forest cake was a thick slice of chocolate cake, soaked through with cherry syrup and layered with whipped cream and covered with cherries. The slice that Stephen had given me was absolutely dripping with chocolate syrup, and the cake was almost soggy with whipped cream. The slice was about as big as a large envelope, and the sponge-y cake was about six inches high. 

Stephen’s face was dripping with about the same amount of cherry syrup as his cake had on it, and a little chocolate spot appeared on the very tip of his nose. He picked up his mug with both hands, tipping the hot liquid into his mouth and swallowing deep. He grinned at me when he had lowered his mug, and reluctantly I dug into the slice of cake. A burst of sweet cherry exploded into my mouth, and splashes of rich chocolate spread over my tongue. Whipped cream smeared over my lips, and the sponge cake melted on my tongue. I reached for my mug, and took a sip of the coffee inside. The bitter caramel taste hit my tongue, the coffee worked its magic for a moment, and then caramel took over, and my taste buds took a deep breath of relief when the sweet taste overwhelmed them. 

“Good?” 

I took a second to digest all those sweet tastes before answering. 

“Is it weird to say that even though I come from a very well off family and yet I have never tried black forest cake before this?” 

Stephen’s eyes stretched huge. “Yes,” 

“I mean, we have been a bit busy…” 

“So busy that you didn’t have the chance to try the most famous German dessert ever invented?” 

“I guess…” I took another sip of coffee, shrugging. “I don’t know, my parents don’t really care about tasting desserts,” 

“Even my foster parents showed this to me,” 

“Foster parents?”

“Well, I couldn’t just sneak over from America and expect to be let in as an orphan into the Hitler Youth, are you serious?”

“So… you have German foster parents who take you to rallies every week,” I raised an eyebrow. 

“Well, no, but they feed me, and give me a bed, and they highly encourage me to go to the rallies. They don’t know that I am American,” he added quickly, “and you better not tell.” His goofy grin revealed that he was joking on that last part. “They think that I was rescued from America after being taken as a prisoner of war,” he explained, which sounded pretty far-fetched if you asked me. 

I swallowed the rest of my cake, and drank the last dregs of my coffee. Stephen pushed away his empty plate and mug, making them clink against my identical dishes. Stephen raised his hand above his head, and the server lady came over and collected our dishes, replacing them with thin German pancakes dripping with butter and cream. Stephen nodded his thanks, and shoved a couple crumpled bills into the lady’s hands. I cut a slice of pancake and let it melt into my mouth. Stephen gobbled his down, and then neatly used his finger to wipe the rest of the cream off the plate.  

I swallowed down my first pancake, the cream turning sour on my tongue when loud banging interrupted the train. It lurched to a stop, throwing me and Stephen against the seat. Loud shouts filled the train, and Stephen turned white as chalk. “Nazis,” he whispered, and I gasped quietly. “We need to hide.” Or, Stephen needed to hide. I should be perfectly safe, if I could get my papers. I opened the clasp of my briefcase and shuffled my clothes around, revealing a small leather booklet. I snatched it up and stuffed it into my uniform pocket. I could hear German spoken demands coming from the car in front of us. I latched my clothes back up and set my case down by my feet. 

Stephen got up from his seat and hurried in the direction of the bathroom. I didn’t have to ask to know what he was doing. The bathroom on trains were the only rooms with doors that locked. Stephen probably hoped that the Nazis would think that he needed to go to the bathroom, and would give him privacy. 

“Fraulein!” a rough German voice interrupted my nervous thoughts. I sat up straighter, and looked him straight in the eye. I didn’t say anything. “Papers!” the Nazi ordered, and I humbly pulled out my passport. The man – no, Nazi, – riffled through my papers, searching each one with a sharp eye. I sat, terrified, in my seat. What was he going to do next? 

“Are you in the League?” 

“Yes, sir,” 

“Where are your parents?”

“Back about a hundred kilometers. I am on my way to the rally in Vienna, the annual one hosted by Gruppenfuhrer Sarah Winter,” 

“How old are you?” 

“Nearly fifteen.” 

The Nazi looked at me with a hard expression. “You’re good.” He said, sounding almost disappointed with his words. Did he want me to be arrested? I wouldn’t put it past him. Clearly, though, the Nazi wasn’t too concerned with my wellbeing, though, because he simply pushed past me to reach the other passengers. 

I sat in my seat, feeling an itch to chew my nails. I shifted my weight around on the seat, my stomach sloshy. I sat there for about an hour, before Stephen slipped back into our car and sat down heavily. Sweat beaded his brow, and his chest was rising and falling rapidly. 

“Did they find you?” I asked, leaning closer as to let no one else hear. Stephen shook his head, then nodded, then shook his head again. “They knew I was in that bathroom. Well, they knew someone was in the bathroom. They banged on that door for a long time, and I was worried they were going to blast the door down. They left eventually, though, but I sat there for a bit longer just to make sure. Gosh, it stinks in there. Either it was never cleaned, or someone just did something in there and I was the unlucky one,” 

I giggled. Suddenly, the conductor walked into our car, looking nervous. “Fraulein, Herr, the train has stopped at Vienna. We have been waiting for all passengers to get off, and you never came. So sorry for the inconvenience.” “It’s fine,” I said, standing up and grabbing my luggage. Stephen copied me and we both hurried out of the closing doors of the train car. We both then hurried over to a crowd of kids wearing identical uniforms and – for the girls – the same hairstyles. Stephen walked me to my troops’ area before hurrying off to find his group. 

Gruppenfuhrer Winter clapped her hands sharply, announcing, “Ladies, we must find our rooms in the hotels. Remember, we are taking the place of a potential hospital or shelter, so be grateful that we even have a roof over our heads.” We all walked rather humbly over to a nearby building, covered with fresh creamy paint and large windows. It had all clearly been redone for this specific event, and for some reason this made me angry. They gave us this special treatment while many people didn’t have anything, let alone a warm bed. 

Gruppenfuhrer Winter escorted me to my room, which I had all to myself. It was airy and had three large, clear glass windows with lacy curtains. A queen bed sat heavily in the center of the room, its covers a pale blue linen, with a heavy quilt drawn over it. A spindly legged chair stood in the corner right of the door, and sat in front of a white stained wooden desk. A fountain pen stood ready for me to use it. 

Winter left me to get settled, and I quickly unpacked my briefcase, placing my uniforms in a small chestnut dresser that stood at the foot of the bed. I slid my book onto the nightstand next to the bed, and placed my notebook on the desk. Perfect. 

The Gruppenfuhrer led us Girls all done to the dining room, since it was close to dinner time. I hadn’t eaten much of a lunch, just the sweets that Stephen had bought for us, but I wasn’t very hungry. Nonetheless, Winter insisted that us Girls sit down at the long wooden table and eat something. Servers set down a chicken pie, thick gravy, and a big bowl of buttered peas, which was an odd food to give to the League if you asked me, considering we were mostly given the best of the best. 

I dished up a thick slice of chicken pie, dripping with gravy, with a pile of peas. I picked up my fork and quickly ate as much food as possible. Of course, there ought to be dessert coming, so I cleaned my plate, wiped my face with a napkin, and sat politely in my seat, waiting for the tarts and pudding. 

As I had assumed, servers soon came out with platters of everything. Little cookies and tarts were set out, and I set three sugar dusted cookies on my plate and a couple peach and lemon tarts. After I had finished, I dusted my lap of any crumbs, before standing up and going to my room. The big rally wasn’t until the next day, so I could stay in my room for the rest of the night. It was only 7:54, so I had several hours if I wanted them. 

I sat down at the desk, opening my notebook and grabbing the fountain pen. 

6-12-43

Today was another uneventful day. I don’t truly know what I will do with the grenade. Why did I even bring it in the first place? I don’t want anyone to be killed. I am so, so much of an idiot. Why couldn’t I at least consider the options before I had packed my bags and left? Well, I’m stuck with it now, so… I gotta do something with it. Sophie just came into my room with a covered dish, saying that she hoped I was feeling better. I guess she assumed I was sick when I left dinner earlier. The plate has tarts on it. Cherry, lemon, strawberry, pomegranate, and apple. Yummy. Probably about two dozen tarts on this plate. Gosh, Sophie, not everyone has such a big appetite as you.

Once I had finished my daily entry, I quickly wrote down a quick prayer and went to bed early.