فصل 89

alfred

Life vests and floats. That was my new assignment. Collect as many life vests and floats as I could find. I was glad of the task outside as it would finally give me a chance to visit the movie house and the young recruit. This was becoming exciting, just like the Karl May adventure novels that Hannelore loved so well.

But where exactly was the movie house? It was bitterly cold outside; the hairs inside my nose gummed and froze. A long walk would not be tolerable. I spotted the old man and the young boy standing under a damaged building with a large clock.

My pulse raced as the crumbling theater came into view. Yes, yes, I would do this. I would be in best favor with leaders of the party when the recruit revealed that I had helped him.

I walked through the snow around back and realized I had forgotten the number of knocks. No matter. The door stood open and people moved in and out freely. The movie house overflowed with refugees. The smell was quite unpleasant. Baggage and personal articles towered on top of the seats. A shrill whistle sounded. It came from the pregnant Latvian woman. She pointed above, toward the ceiling. I supposed she was suffering the feminine hysteria common to pregnant women, but then I saw the recruit, standing in the small window of the projection booth.

It took me quite a while to find the stairs and I was belabored of breath once I climbed them. I approached the closed door at the top of the stairway. Was this where I was supposed to use the secret knock? The door flew open. The recruit pulled me inside.

The tiny dark room smelled of cigarettes. I waved my hand in front of my face, hoping to clear the air.

“You want a smoke?” asked the recruit, pacing the floor.

“I don’t partake,” I told him.

“Do you have it?”

He spoke in code, but I knew what he meant. The pass. I tried to remember the terminology used in the spy magazines but could not recall any. So I just slowly whispered, “Yes.” His coat shifted and I saw a pistol in his waistband. I quickly produced the pass.

“You’re a good man,” he told me. He then handed me a leaflet labeled Victory or Death.

“Have you read that one?” he asked.

“No,” I admitted.

“It speaks of good Germans and bad Germans. You are a good German.”

“Thank you.” I felt a glow of confidence within me. “Permission to ask a question?”

He smiled. “Permission granted.”

“How will you manage? The pass is blank. It will need to be filled out and also stamped officially for you to board. They will have a complete manifest.”

“Yes, I know. Leave that to me. Now, friend, before boarding begins and all hell breaks loose, I need you to bring me the nurse.”

“The pretty nurse from this morning?” I asked.

He stopped pacing. “You think she’s pretty?”

I had heard other sailors talk often of girls, sometimes in graphic detail. And of course I had my Hannelore.

“Yes.” I grinned. “In my experience, the nurse would certainly rate as attractive.”

He stared at the pass. “Can you find her? Tell her that her patient needs her. Make sure you use the word need, sailor.”

“But where will I find her?”

“She promised the pregnant girl she would come for her. She’s probably on her way here.”

“Ah, yes, she did seem most concerned for the Latvian.”

The recruit turned to me, lighting the stub of a cigarette. “The pretty nurse,” he said. “Her name is Joana. And when it comes to her, sailor”—he clapped me on the shoulder, exhaling a scarf of smoke—“I’ve heard she’s already spoken for.”