There he stood! He had stepped down from a coach car, bigger than ever, his face bronzed, the tip of his nose showing the usual signs of peeling, his blond hair shining like a halo. He spied Hanna halfway down the quay and started running, the large, leather suitcase in his hand brushing people as he dodged from side to side. She began running too, tears blurring her vision. Then she was in his arms and hugging him with all her strength, reaching up to kiss whatever she could reach. His lips finally found hers, and a moment later she pulled away, weeping with happiness, pressing her head tightly against him.
Finally, she straightened up and wiped her face with a handkerchief. “Oh, Stephen, my love. I cannot believe you are here.”
He rubbed his nose with the back of his hand. “Neither can I,” he said, hugging her carefully again. He held her back and looked at her tenderly. “I haven’t forgotten how beautiful you are. But you are more beautiful now.” He grinned at her with love in his eyes. “You’ve grown.”
She linked her arm through his and began to guide him to the station. “I’ve gained some weight, finally.”
He pressed her arm against him. “I have thought of you every day since we parted.”
“And I have missed you every day. But you look so wonderful.”
A stocky porter wearing a worn, leather apron wheeled a baggage cart up to them. “Can I help you with your bag, mein Herr?” he asked in German.
“No, thank you,” replied Stephen carefully, also in German. “I am a big man, and it is only a small bag.”
The porter smiled at the evident accent, and he moved off. Hanna turned to Stephen in surprise. “How well you speak German,” she remarked with pleasure.
He laughed; his large, white teeth gleaming in his ruddy face. “I have been studying all year. Also, it is one of the dozen phrases I memorized. Thank heavens he didn’t ask me a question I wasn’t prepared for.”
Outside, in the bright glare of early afternoon, she tugged at his arm. “I have taken a room at a hotel two blocks away,” she said, her face turning pink. Eyes averted, she drew him to a crosswalk, waited as the stream of wagons and black taxi limousines and white and blue electric trolleys passed and wheeled under the watchful eyes of leather helmeted policemen directing the flow of traffic, bringing all to an obedient stop as they turned their direction signals to allow the pedestrians to cross the streets.
In short order, she led him into the lobby of a tall, pleasant hotel, secured a key at the desk, then up a wide, curling staircase to the third floor. Midway down the corridor, her heart pounding as desperately as his, she opened the door to a large room, dominated by a two piece bed, covered by sparkling white sheets and pillow cases.
“Look, Stephen,” she said excitedly, taking him to the French windows and drawing them open. Outside was a small, iron-railed balcony, and from it they looked down upon the wide boulevard below.
Stephen took one appreciative look, then stepped back and drew her into the room. In an instant, they were in each other’s arms; their lips pressed eagerly together; Hanna’s body melding into that of Stephen.
They undressed slowly, pausing to share long, ardent kisses and to speak of their love, and finally, they lay side by side, Stephen staring in awe at her naked body. It was the first time they had actually seen each other fully unclothed, and Hanna’s blood raced at the sight of his large, smooth arms and chest. Then he was atop her, his lips suddenly gentle as she guided him inside her. She felt a slight pain, and then she opened wide to him. Soon they were thrusting at each other with a burning need to become one.
Suddenly, Stephen stopped and tried to draw away. “No! No!” said Hanna, muffled against his shoulder.
“You may get pregnant again,” said Stephen, breathing hard.
“No,” she said. “We are safe; I am sure.”
She lunged against him, and climaxed at once, her body shuddering.
With a few deep strokes, Stephen ejaculated fiercely, a moan breaking from his lips. They did not stop, but continued on until both peaked again, and then they lay locked together, their chests heaving, eyes closed; their minds whirling with the fullness of each other.
Stephen rolled to his back with a sigh of contentment. Hanna placed her head on his shoulder, equally fulfilled; her hand idly caressing the muscles of his chest.
“Will you marry me, Hanna?” said Stephen softly.
She looked up at him. His clear blue eyes were fixed on her with a longing and need far greater than that which they had just shared, and his face was filled with a gentleness she had never seen before. “I will marry you whenever you wish.”
He turned to her and kissed her lips tenderly, a smile of happiness wrinkling the corners of his face. “Now,” he said. “Let’s get married now.”
She chuckled with joy. “Not now. Tomorrow. I’m not going to let you out of my arms today for anything.”
He motioned his head towards the open windows. The sun had passed its zenith, and dusk was beginning to gather in the sky. “You’ll have to. I’m starving.”
She wrestled with him playfully. In a few minutes, he was over her again; their lips joined with passion; his penis again stiff and eager, and they made love once more with endearment rather than the fervor of their first embrace.
They took supper in a Gasthaus, a few blocks from the hotel. Entertained by the vigorous sounds of a Lederhosen clad band, Hanna drank a vegetable puree while Stephen tried the Leberknödel soup, and as she dined on boiled carp with potatoes and carrots, he attacked a large veal cutlet accompanied by an overflowing dish of thick, French fried potatoes. When Stephen signaled for his second liter of rich, foamy Bavarian beer, she grinned.
“Be careful,” she warned him. “It is not like our Russian beer. It is much stronger.”
“I’m used to potent drinks,” he said. “At university, we drink this much vodka.” He took a swallow from the new stein of beer. “Oh, yes. Larisa saw your family just before I left for here.”
She shook her head in pretended reproach. “Why did you not tell me earlier?”
He grinned. “You didn’t give me a chance. Then I was too hungry to talk.”
She yanked at his hand. “Tell me.”
“Your Uncle Sam is still harassed by the police. They watch his mail all the time. Apparently you and Jakob are still very high on their most wanted list. Reba now lives with him, and she is working at a shop in Slabodka, and that fellow in Kaunas who has Gitel took Zelek a short while ago. It seems that Mr. Wilson has not been feeling well the past few months.”
“Poor Mr. Wilson. He has been a savior for us.”
“Who is that fellow in Kaunas?”
“His name is Katzman, the son of a man who helped Papa start his boat business. When Papa had his accident, Mr. Katzman foreclosed on our house and rented it to us for practically nothing so we would not have to move.”
“Why would he do that? Didn’t he lose money, too?”
“It is called a mitzvah. You do something because it will find favor with the Lord.”
“Speaking of the Lord, how is Jakob?”
Hanna laughed. “A lot better, but nothing like he was before the injury. He can barely walk a block without having to rest for five minutes.”
He looked at her from under his thick brows. “You stay with him all the time, don’t you?”
“In a way.”
“Is that to make amends?”
She pursed her lips, thinking over his words. “Yes, in a sense. After all, I would not have lived that night without him. And Jakob and I would not have survived until now without you. We both owe you a great deal. More than we can ever repay.”
He smiled at her serious expression. “Is that why you are marrying me tomorrow?”
She smiled back. “It would serve you well if that was the only reason. No, my dearest. I am marrying you because I do not know how I can live my life without you.”
He drew her hand to his lips. “Let’s go back to the hotel now. I want to hold you in my arms, and never let you go.”
The morning was a hectic one. After a quick breakfast, they took a streetcar to the Rathaus, the huge, impressive, red brick city hall, where a succession of clerks gave them forms to complete, and then informed them that banns posted for four days would be required before the marriage ceremony could take place. At their crestfallen expressions, one of the dour faced clerks went on to explain that since the Kingdom of Bavaria was a Catholic state, were it a church ceremony, the banns would have to be posted on three successive Sundays first.
In desperation, Hanna led Stephen to the post and telegraph building, and put in a call to the police sergeant in Garmisch, to whom she reported each month, and explained the situation. Those Russians again, he raged inwardly. What did they do to deserve such privileges, such as medical costs, identification papers, and now bothering him about a wedding? But he remembered the strict orders he had received that he was to contact a certain number in Berlin if anything important came up concerning the two.
“I will think it over, Fräulein, and call you back shortly,” he said curtly.
Hanna put down the phone, a look of discouragement on her face.
“Don’t be so sad,” said Stephen. “If we must wait four days, we can wait.”
She said nothing; she just led him to a corner in the crowded communications section.
The police sergeant’s call to the designated number went through promptly to his complete astonishment.
“Hauptmann Roth here,” came a clear, commanding voice.
“Herr Hauptmann,” said the sergeant, almost stammering with surprise. “I am Sergeant Prosner, of the Garmisch station.”
“Yes, Prosner. I know of you. What do you want?”
The sergeant was further amazed at the idea that he was known to an important captain in Berlin. “It is about Fräulein Barlak, Herr Hauptmann. She has requested my assistance for her to get married.”
“Is that right! To whom?”
“A Russian. A Stephen Timoshinkov.” He pronounced the name badly.
“Timoshinkov! Is he there?”
“They are in München, Herr Hauptmann.”
“Good for them! What do they want?”
“They need help with the banns.”
“I see. Wait.” Roth put down the receiver. He was the one who had sent Stephen on his way. He got up from behind his desk and walked to a nearby door, tapping on it lightly before going inside.
Colonel Dannetz was standing in front of a map, hanging on a wall. He had a notebook in one hand and was marking information on the map with a red crayon. He turned. “Yes, Roth.”
“It is Prosner, Herr Oberst, from Garmisch. Timoshinkov is in München with Hanna. They want to get married, and they need help with the banns.”
A light kindled in the stern eyes of the colonel. “So, he came for his prize,” he said softly. He nodded his head approvingly. “He’s got more sense than I hoped for. Clear the way, Roth.”
“Very well, Herr Oberst.” He started from the room.
“Roth.” The captain turned. “After you finish with Prosner, get me the Rathaus at München.”
It was almost an hour later when the switchboard operator signaled to Hanna to take up the phone in a booth. Gnawing her lip with anxiety, Hanna almost ran to the booth, Stephen hard on her heels.
“Hanna Barlak here,” she shouted into the phone, Stephen holding his ear close to the receiver.
Sounding further away than the ninety kilometers was the sergeant. “Fräulien Barlak?”
“Yes, yes. I hear you.”
“Return to the Rathaus. Ask for the chief clerk. He will help you.”
Hanna’s knees suddenly felt weak. “I will. Thank you, Herr Sergeant. Thank you.”
She hung up. The two looked at each other. Stephen opened his mouth. She knew he was going to let out a shout of victory, so she pinched his arm. He laughed with sheer relief, his white teeth flashing. Hand in hand, they hastened out of the building.
The chief clerk was a ruddy faced man with an expansive belly. The moment they were announced, he came from his office and motioned them down a corridor to a large, pinewood paneled room with a long oak desk at the far end, flanked by candle holders two meters high. Flags of Bavaria stood in front of a highly polished railing. It was the most impressive room Hanna had ever seen.
A tall, smooth faced man, dressed in an ornate, forest green suit with badges of office hanging from his neck and a matching green hat on his head, rose from behind the desk.
“The Herr Bürgermeister,” said the chief clerk with a proper show of deference.
Hanna and Stephen just nodded, too awed to speak.
The mayor motioned up two witnesses seated on a bench at the rear of the room, and then started through a brief, but completely binding ceremony, asking their names, which the chief clerk recorded on a form, ages, nationalities, names of their parents, and other information. When he requested place of baptism, Hanna flushed, and then said in a level voice that she was a Jew. The mayor had not been told this, and for a few moments he and the chief clerk whispered back and forth about how to answer this question. The chief clerk filled in the term ‘Jude’, and the ceremony continued.
Once they repeated their vows, Stephen’s face turned a dark red when it came time to put on the ring. In their rush, they had forgotten to buy one. He slipped off a wide gold ring his father had given him at his entry to the university, and placed it on Hanna’s right ring finger. She had to keep her hand upright to prevent it from falling off.
At the conclusion, the Bürgermeister, smiling, motioned for them to kiss, then he stepped around the desk to shake their hands and wish them good health and fortune.
Still somewhat dazed, the two signed the marriage register, the Bürgermeister affixed his seal to the certificate, which was attested to by the chief clerk and the two witnesses, and then they were led by the chief clerk to a registry window for the final stamp, a large official gold leafed seal.
“Five marks,” said the registry clerk.
As Stephen was digging into his pocket, the chief clerk leaned his head towards the registry clerk and whispered a few words. The registry clerk looked at him in surprise, and then turned back to the newlyweds.
“There is no charge. I have been told to present to you the compliments and best wishes of Herr Eric.”
Hanna and Stephen stared at each other, and then they smiled. At last, they were officially man and wife.
The chief clerk escorted them to the door, and he shook their hands goodbye.
They walked out into the street, hand in hand, their eyes shining with joy, their hearts pounding with happiness, suddenly shy, able to steal only peeks at each other. Then, in the middle of the block, Stephen pulled her to a stop, engulfed her in his arms, and kissed her hungrily on the lips. The passers-by smiled at the two locked in their embrace. It was not an unusual sight near the Rathaus.
Two blocks away was a quartet of goldsmith’s shops, opened in that location for such a reason. A ring in the second window caught their attention, a little wider than usual. They waited patiently the few minutes it took to size it to her finger, and then they were out on the street again.
She stopped him at the next intersection and turned to face him. “I will never take it off, Stephen,” she said, with a trace of tears in her eyes. “It will be buried with me.”
“And I will honor the ring,” he said softly. “For the rest of my life.”
He kissed her tenderly, a seal upon their promise.
Filled with joy, Stephen said the first thing on his mind. “I’m hungry.”
Chuckling, Hanna linked her arm through his. “There is a very nice restaurant two or three blocks from here. I am going to buy our lunch.”
“That’s my job,” said Stephen, falling into the game.
“Not now. When you are an engineer, you can pay for our first anniversary.”
Three days later, after hours of sightseeing, walking in the woods at the end of the streetcar lines, enchanted by the animals in the zoo, listening dreamily to concerts in the parks, making love full of adoration and bliss, they packed their bags and took the train to Garmisch. It was only a short walk to her pension, where she introduced Stephen to the owners, explained that she was now Frau Timoshinkov, and stored their luggage in her room. Then they walked to the sanitarium.
Jakob was seated in his wheel chair in the reading room, completely engrossed in his book. It took him a second or two to notice them standing beside him.
“Hello, Stephen,” he said, standing up and holding out his thin, pale-skinned hand.
Stephen took it gingerly. “Hello, Jakob.” He grinned. “You look better than when we last parted.”
“I feel better, thanks to you.” He looked at Hanna. There was no mistaking the meaning of her glowing face–she and Stephen had been together these past five days.
“Jakob,” said Hanna, bursting at the seams with the news. She held out her hand. “Stephen and I were married.”
His expression did not change noticeably, but at the sight of the ring, the Cossack’s saber was again thrust into his chest. His lips drew apart in what he desperately hoped was a smile. “God bless the two of you,” he said softly. He reached out and shook the hands of both. “May He forever keep you safe and cover you with His bounty, now and forever.”
“Thank you, Jakob,” said Hanna. He looked so pale, she thought. Was he this pale when he stood up? “Sit down,” she told him. Gratefully, he sank back to his wheelchair, Stephen and Hanna taking seats on a bench across the table.
“I am glad you were able to avoid trouble when you returned to Russia after helping us,” said Jakob to Stephen. “That was a brave act you did.”
“There was also a great deal of luck,” he replied. “I got across the border with no trouble at all and caught the train at Kovno the next day at the moment it was taking off. Then, at university, everyone was so occupied running about buying books, trying out for soccer teams, and getting settled, that they never missed me. I could have arrived even later without its being a problem. About a month later, I had a visit from the police asking again if I knew you and Hanna. I told them I had met you both a few times, like you run upon everyone in a small village. They asked my ideas on where you might have gone to, and I said it was certain you two had fled to Poland. I suspect they thought I was a bit of an idiot, for they were convinced you were still hiding in some Jew’s cellar in Kovno, and they were not about to search hundreds of buildings, hoping to find the hiding place.”
“What are your plans now?” asked Jakob.
“I will be returning to Russia in three days. I have one more year left at university.”
“But, Hanna…”
“I cannot go back with him,” she said. “He will return when he completes his schooling.”
Suddenly, Jakob’s face took on color, and he made an effort to conceal his surge of relief. The pressure of loss was abruptly lifted from his chest.
Later, they helped Jakob into a carriage and were driven to Hanna’s pension. With pots and pans and dishes from her own room, she cooked a kosher meal of fish and vegetables in the kitchen, and served them in a corner of the small dining room. She opened a bottle of kosher wine, and they toasted their reunion.
On Friday afternoon, Hanna waved her handkerchief at the departing train until it was out of sight. “Goodbye, my love, my heart,” she said through the tears blurring her vision. She stood yet another few minutes, as if by miracle the eight days Stephen had been in Germany could begin again, then she wiped her eyes and walked with stiff back to another quay, where she waited half an hour for her return train to Garmisch. It was dusk when she arrived. Quickly, she walked the few blocks to her pension, up to her room, and took out two candles. It was Friday sunset, the beginning of the Sabbath. Drawing a shawl over her head, she lit the candles, gave the ritual blessing, then prayed for the souls of her mother and her father, for the safety and
health of her sisters and brother, for the Katzman’s, father and son, for Mr. Wilson, for Jakob, and then again through her tears, for her husband.