Faces From Another Time

The soldier's head slumps between his shoulders. No one moves or speaks. The clock's steady ticking splinters the pain that hangs in layers in the room.

Mother is the first to move. Like a thin, gray sigh her hand reaches out and strokes the soldier's face and then turns to look at the clock.

"You've got to leave now", she says hesitantly, "My husband will be home soon."

The soldier turns to look at us, disbelief and fear warring on his face. "I forgot until it was too late to take back my wallet", he says. "My leave papers are in it. If they catch me without papers I'll be shot as a deserter."

He stands up, swaying, his eyes now like frightened rabbits running from face to face.

"Let me stay in your shed, please. Just overnight. I'll go in the morning."

Mother and Oma whisper together.

"Please, Mother", I say, clutching at her sleeve, "let him stay."

She bends down to me, gripping my shoulder hard.

"You know that Simmsen's son Gerhard is in the SS", and she turns to the soldier, "they live not far from here. And besides, we don't know who you really are. If you are caught, they'll punish us for taking you in. And then there's my husband."

Oma looks uncomfortable and as if she is thinking hard.

"Never mind, Anna", she says to Mother, and then shakes her finger in the soldiers face. "Never tell anyone that you were here. We have no power to protect you or ourselves." She then adds sternly, "Come with me", and pulls him by the empty sleeve into the hall.

Their footsteps are dull thuds on the stairs. I hear Oma's door close. Then silence settles into the house, while outside the storm rages.