CHARLIE
I went down two hours later, as instructed, in my regular suit. I didn’t know who or what to expect when I entered the dining hall. I wasn’t sure if some of my “Uncle’s”—or as I thought of him, Erich’s—Nazi bastard friends would be there, or if it would be my distinct pleasure to eat with him alone.
I entered a rather grand room. It had a very long oak dining table that could seat at least twelve people. It already had bottles of wine in silver ice buckets and champagne in a pewter ice bucket. There was no food yet. I didn’t know where to sit, but was sure it wouldn’t be at the head of the table, so I selected a seat adjacent to the head chair. The one closest to the door as I presumed we would sit clustered on that side.
I pondered my misfortune while sitting there and missed Mom. I thought about how Mother had told me that my Uncle was a sly man, but she didn’t know him that well, and she hadn’t told me just what a cruel creature he was.
Back home, they had talked about the Nazis and how bad they were—but I had not heard about these ghettos, these prisons, where Jews were living. I liked Jews just fine and knew many fine Jewish families from Long Island. Jonny was from one, my best friend, his Uncle was kind and always generously donating large sums to charities. There was no such thing as a greedy Jew that I had met, they didn’t fit this image Erich and the Germans had of them. They were always giving away their money in my experience back in the States. I couldn’t tell my “Uncle” Erich that.
I didn’t want any part of these Nazis, I would have to find my own way. I didn’t know how to do that with how enthusiastically anti-American and anti-Semitic my Uncle was. I was thinking on that when they entered the hall.
Erich opened the door, and with feigned grace he did not possess, he motioned for two ladies to precede him in entering the room.
I stood up upon them entering and slightly bowed my head.
One of the women was close to Erich’s age, and the other was close to mine. She was about fifteen or sixteen years old and ravishing. She had blonde, curly locks and blue-gray eyes that looked me up and down. She had slightly blushed cheeks, and I couldn’t tell if her make-up was perfectly painted or if her skin was naturally that beautiful.
I saw Erich pull the chair facing me back for the lady who was his age and then push it forward, placing the napkin in her lap.
I imitated him, pulling a chair out for the younger lady to sit next to me, and she sat down. I pushed the chair forward and picked up a napkin to place it in her lap—but before I could she snatched it from me.
She glared at me. “Don’t touch me,” she said simply.
And so I said, “I, I am sorry.”
Erich laughed and clapped his hands.
“Charlie, my dear boy, meet Edith. Don’t mind her. She doesn’t fully understand manners as she is a mischling.”
The older lady chastised him, saying, “Erich, you said you would stop calling Edith that.”
“Yes, well, I will watch my tongue, but it is a fact that a little Jewish blood, even only a little, can cause one to forget one’s manners. Allow me to apologize on her behalf, Charlie. She just doesn’t understand.”
I didn’t know what to say, so I just said, “She looks nice, I mean she seems nice.”
Erich laughed again. “She is pretty, just like her mother, that is true. Let’s all have a glass of champagne to celebrate my nephew, Charlie.”
He grabbed a bottle of chilled champagne and popped the cork open. Following the pop, a smoky drizzle of bubbly poured into Edith’s mother’s glass, then mine, his, and finally he reached across to Edith. She moved her glass away.
“I am fine, I don’t want any.”
“What are you to toast to with without a drink, Edith?”
“I have nothing to toast to,” she said, glaring at me with distaste.
“Edith …”
“No, Mother, I don’t want to celebrate Erich’s nephew’s arrival.”
I could see the plain irritation on Erich’s face and I said, “It is ok with me, no offense taken. Some people just don’t like champagne and toasts much.”
Erich didn’t truly care about my sentiments or perhaps he would have let it slide. He cared about her obedience, or rather was getting angry at her defiance. Then he suddenly lost his angry face.
“I know, Edith, I know. You don’t have to give him a toast. You don’t have to drink champagne but I am going to make you both go out together, get to know each other. Don’t worry, my nephew is a gentleman, I am sure, and he wouldn’t want to date a … well, your mother prefers I not say what you are. And so, it will not be a date but a time to get to know one another as you will be like a sort of brother and sister.”
“I am not going out …”
“Silence,” he said, putting his finger to his lips.
She became quiet and still. She looked nervous and so did her mother, Anna. They knew his smirked lips, his quiet voice meant that he was on the edge and about to cross into brutality. They knew not to push him. I could tell, too, and I hardly knew him.
“Yes, I will go,” Edith acquiesced.
“Yes, what?”
“Yes, Father.”
“Good, now let’s toast and if you must refrain, you can, Edith.”
We all stood up, including Edith, who surprised me by holding out her glass, asking for Erich to fill it with champagne.
Erich smiled and said, while holding his glass unnecessarily higher than everyone else’s, “To my nephew, Charles, who lived in the land of the Jews and who has finally come home.”
He looked directly at me and continued, “Charles, I will teach you about your proud blood and you will know your superiority and someday you will make this nation proud like I have. I believe you will. To Charles, to the Fatherland and Hitler.”
He raised his glass only to clink Anna’s. At the name of Hitler both Edith and I had shirked, pulling our glasses back toward us.
He knew. “Ah, Hitler scares you. I know, I understand why, Edith.” His beady eyes lingered on her lovely frame.
“Charles, but you—is this some ridiculous loyalty to the American Jewry? We aren’t at war with America? What is your issue then with me toasting you? Have I done something wrong? Are you disrespecting me? Where will your loyalty lie, I wonder, Charles?” He mused out loud with an annoyed tone that was growing into visible irritation by the second, as evidenced by his furrowed brow.
“Sorry, Uncle, I just, he isn’t popular in America, and it—well I …”
Edith, who knew Erich better, and knew what he needed to hear, said, “It is ok to say you don’t feel comfortable yet, Charles, as you did just come to be in Germany and need time to get acclimated.”
Erich’s demeanor softened some, and he said, “True, you have not had time to get ‘acclimated’ but you will need to learn to show some respect even before you have felt it. I value respect and loyalty, as does this country. You will act like you have it until you do.”
He raised his glass once more and said, “To Charles, the Fatherland and Hitler.”
I raised my glass, as Anna did hers, and it surprised me to see Edith raise hers too.
When she clinked her glass, I noticed that she came close to Erich’s but didn’t touch it, only touching mine. Her half smile, angled toward me, let me know she was only toasting to me, and not to anything else.