Eva had taken two sleeping pills and fallen into a dark, dreamless sleep in the car. When she woke, her head like cotton, it was almost dark and they were far from the city, near to the cabin, near to Poland, really. Hansi was smoking, the window slightly open. The air that came in was quite cold. She felt it against her face, a bit wet, like a trace of ice on her warm, sleep-filled skin.
“Wir werden schon da sein, neh?” she asked, more to wake herself up than anything.
“Ja, mein Liebchen.” He smiled at her. She was his Liebchen. His Schatzi. She was someone he loved and counted on. All this trouble, all the trouble in the world. And what else can we ask of God than for one person to love us? Even if that person is as flawed as the Bible says we all are.
“I made a stop, but you did not wake up. You are very tired today, no?”
“I’m waking up now. I am.”
The countryside was beautiful in its emptiness. She opened a window wide for a moment and the air made her gasp. Endless snow-covered fields, dark mounds of hills beyond them, and a road that stretched out ahead. Occasionally they passed a small house or shed. Then there was the turn onto the last stretch of road, this one dirt and gravel, and ahead, the cabin.
“Did you meet Tom and Maggie before that day at my apartment?” she asked.
“And if I did?”
“Then it means Elena introduced you to them.”
“Why these questions, Schatzi? It’s over now. Things didn’t work out as planned with Tom. But I still made a lot of money.” He turned to her and grinned.
“But Elena? She always warned me against you.”
Hansi started to laugh. He began laughing so hard he couldn’t drive, so he pulled over.
“You laugh at me?” She wanted to hit him. “Me? Who loves you? Who is always there for you?”
“Schatzi! Bist dumit mich nicht bose sein! I only laugh because you are so naive. But you aren’t really, are you? And I’m not laughing at you, really; I’m laughing at Elena. She is something else, warning you against me. How do you think I got your smells, eh? When she joined the Party, she was a schoolgirl, but we had lots of children working for us. She warned you against me? It’s funny, it’s just too funny.”
Eva looked ahead. She saw the cabin at the end of the road. “My own daughter.”
“We are all on the same side, Liebchen. You can’t hold anything against her. It was the way things were then.”
Hansi carried large, dark cases slowly from the car. They were very heavy looking, very different from what Eva had seen him bring in before. He didn’t ask her to help, even though he was clearly struggling. He had parked the car right near the boathouse. At first Eva watched from the car; then she went into the cabin. It was very cold. She put together a fire and found a broom to sweep the dust that had collected since they’d last been there. She carried the wool blankets outside and shook them out. Lastly, she boiled some water for coffee.
“Ach, meine Rück tut mir weh,” Hans said, holding his back and grimacing.
“Here, have a coffee.” Eva passed him a hot mug. Her Hansi. What trouble had he really caused? Could she blame him for Maggie’s problems? She was already using drugs before she came to Berlin. And yet.
Hans’s face was quite red from exerting himself. He blew on his coffee, wiped his brow.
“Warum liebst du mich?” Eva asked.
“Warum?” Hansi laughed. “Women. You are all so crazy.”
“Aber du liebst mich, doch?”
“Of course I love you.”
“Warum? Warum mich?”
Hansi stood up, stretched his back. Then he came to her, and carefully wrapped his hands around her face. “Du bist meine sichere Berlinerin, Ost Berlinerin. Paula war nicht wie du, ist nicht wie du. Ja, Die hat in der DDR gewohnt. But you, your heart is like mine. Your heart is here in Berlin; Paula’s is not. Und was mehr? Ach, woman, I don’t know. It is love. It doesn’t make any sense. You must know that by now.”
This moment of tenderness startled Eva, but there was no reason to be startled. Ten years they had. Despite her regrets, regrets that grew and deepened. Having regrets didn’t make her a bad person. Loving a man perhaps she wished she’d never loved. To endure regardless of regret, well that was the human condition, no? She closed her eyes and smelled the cigarettes from his hands, the sour smell of his sweat. She was a man’s woman, and she’d always been. Despite her love for Liezel, or Elena, or Maggie. She loved her sister and her daughter, because they let her be a wife, a mother to a man’s children, first her father’s, then her Hugo’s. They let her be the woman of the house, the woman in a man’s house. And Maggie? She did love her, but what good did that do? Not much. And that was it, too: loving the women in her life never amounted to anything good. But now she was being ungrateful, the very trait that poisoned so many, that poisoned Maggie. Ingratitude. Her eyes still closed, she said a prayer. “Thank you, God, for my daughter, my sister, my niece. Look after them, guide them, care for them. And forgive me, God, for the truth in my heart, for the love I have for this man is stronger than it should be. Forgive me.”
Hans embraced her; she put her head on his shoulder, inhaled him, his tart sweat, his smoky skin. Then she pulled back and stared into his eyes. It’s fitting, she thought, that the last thing we see before we die is the thing we love, is the thing that kills us. A needle, a criminal, a man, a love. Love. Is it God’s will? Is it the Devil’s? Is it the two, working together?
Hans moved away, poked at the fire, then looked through the closet.
“I’m going on a walk,” Eva said.
“So spät?”
“Nicht für lange.”
Eva pulled on a coat and stepped into Hans’s rubber boots.
“Woman, you are taking my boots?”
“Ja. I need some air after that long ride. But I won’t be gone long. You drink your coffee. Smoke a cigarette and I’ll be back.”
The moon shone over the lake now, so brightly she could see everything. The grooves in the frozen lake, the grooves in the frost, like a knife had run through it, and the sparks of snow that gathered along parts of the ice. She could see so well, until she got to the path in the surrounding woods. Then her eyes had to adjust again. The roots of the trees started to take shape in the dark and a focus came over her; her eyes felt keen, it was as if she were on a different planet, a different plane of existence. “I will die someday, God. And what will you do with me? Will I see Hugo, Mutti, Vati? Will I see Maggie there, sooner than she should be?” If life was to be lived to ensure a happy eternity, one must fight evil at all times, fight temptation. “Lead me not into temptation.” Well, that was not what she really meant. The prayer was hollow and it filled her heart with grief. “Forgive me.” Yes, that is what she really meant. If we can’t be honest with our own souls, in our own private talks with God, then what? Then what?
The boathouse lay ahead, and in the clearing, it was lit brightly by the moon. Suddenly, she was very excited. She tripped in the boots and hurt her knee, hurt the palms of her hands trying to break her fall. She opened the broken door. The lockers were gone, but the rowboats were still there. And there were containers like the ones that Hans had moved into the cellar that night.
And then he was there. He wore a heavy coat and his soft-soled shoes; he’d made no noise.
“Ach, my feet are so wet. You! Was willst du hier, Schatzi?”
“I want to know you.”
She was not afraid. But she felt lightheaded. She walked to one of the containers.
“Why can’t you leave some things alone, Schatzi?”
“Don’t hide things from me.”
He walked past her and gruffly pushed her aside and opened one of the long containers, a case similar to one that a musician friend of Hugo’s had used to carry around his large horn. Inside were guns.
“Do you know how rich I will be? It will change everything. And this is not illegal. Wirklich.”
“I see.”
“No more drugs. No more of that.” Hans closed the case. “Because of you.”
“Because of me?”
“Yes. Well, and maybe for other reasons, too.”
Say it. She wanted to ask him to say it. Her niece, whom she was supposed to protect. And Krista? She was gone. It was just one more failure in her life, a life that changed and changed and then would end.
“They are Kalashnikovs. I got them at such a good price. The Cold War is over now, Schatzi. These guns are flooding the market, but the demand is still high. And I have buyers in Serbia, and in the Middle East. I keep some here, for me. But with my partner, we have a warehouse filled to the ceiling with these.”
Eva reached out to touch one.
“Here,” Hans said. He picked one up and handed it to her. She dropped it, then picked it up, found a way to hold it. She cradled it in her arms awkwardly. And he leaned toward her again, now that her hands were full, and cupped her face there in the dark cabin. “Für dich. Alles für dich.”
“How bad are you?”
“I’m not bad. I am the one who looks after you. This is all legal! When I sell these, I am buying you a proper apartment. I’ll spend a lot of time here in Berlin. I won’t always be in Poland. You’ll see.”
Eva hoisted the gun around and pointed it Hans.
“It’s not loaded.”
“Ich weiss.”
“I’m not a bad man.”
“I am more worried about my soul than yours, Hansi.”
“Put the gun down.”
Eva put the gun down. Hansi reached over and closed the box. “Let’s go. Come, Schatzi. Let’s go back.”
He led the way in front of her, and for some reason that made it harder than when she had come out here alone. She held on to his back, a shaky hand on his thick shoulder.
“Schatzi,” he said, not turning back to look at her while he spoke, but continuing to lead the way. “It is the beginning of a new world, a better world. I will take you with me. I will show you the way.”