فصل 95

florian

The interior of the chimney measured about five meters wide. There was a ladder and a ledge of ample width to lie down on. It was cold and I couldn’t sleep. The chimney was secluded, but it could also be my downfall. If someone looked in and saw me, they would immediately know I was hiding. Should I have stayed in the infirmary? I might have been better camouflaged there, warmer. Closer to Joana. But if the Nazi from the harbor came on board, he’d look for me in the infirmary.

I was weighing my options when the hinges on the door rotated.

The sailor climbed up the ladder and took a seat next to me.

“I’ve come with news,” he announced.

“Oh yeah, what’s that?”

He rubbed his blistered palms together. “I have just observed from the top deck the arrival of hundreds of female naval auxiliaries. They are well dressed and quite clean.”

“They’re bringing the women’s auxiliary on board?” Maybe that meant we’d leave soon.

“Yes, there are hundreds of them and they seem quite plucky.”

“Where are they going to put them?” I asked. “Are there enough cabins available?”

“Oh no. All of the cabins are quite full already. But I imagine there are those on board who might offer a warm cot.” He snorted with laughter.

I leaned back against the cold chimney wall. Had this guy been broadsided with a brick at some point?

“How long have you been in the service, sailor?” I asked.

He stared at his feet, hesitating. “As we share confidences, I will be truthful. I was a late recruit. I had wanted to be part of the youth organizations, but the physical drills were quite rigorous and placed heavy emphasis on athletic competition. I can see you have gifts of strength and coordination. I do not. I cannot run very fast or jump very far. My gifts lie in other areas. My father was terribly disappointed but Mutter was relieved. Although Mutter of course loves the Führer, she wasn’t quite inclined to serve me up. I’m an only child.”

“Your mother loves the Führer, eh?”

He looked at me, his eyes sober and sharp. “Of course. We all love the Führer, sir. As the papers say, ‘The good German fights for the Führer.’ I certainly do. I will admit that I’m too tenderhearted and at times felt sorry for someone or other who could not be part of the master race, but now I banish such impure thoughts. Such is the nature of sacrifice, is it not?”

His impure thoughts were radically different from my own.

He stared at me. “You agree, of course? We are good Germans.”

His eyes lingered. His speech pattern carried an unsettling cadence. I suddenly had an overwhelming urge to knock him off the ledge. But instead I just nodded.

“We are good Germans. So do you think you could find me some food?” I asked.