M I D D L E of Enemy Lines

Chapter Three

The next morning I get up and head downstairs.
   " Guten Morgen. How did you sleep?" Aunt Elsa asks me as I sit down at the dining table.
   " Good, and you?"
   " Fine, just fine. Eat up quickly and then run upstairs to get ready for today. We will leave in twenty minutes." Auntie Elsa tells me as she was finishing up her plate. " We decided to let you sleep in as much you could. Help you with your jet lag." Aunt Elsa tells me as I look around the dining room noticing that only my Uncle and her were the only ones present.
A young women around twenty-five walked into the dining room with a plate full of eggs and sausages, with a piece of toast and a glass of milk in her hands. She set my breakfast in front of me. Placing a napkin on my lap before she started walking out of the dining room. She only had gotten a few feet away from me when I spoke up to her.
   " Danke." I tell her kindly and sincerely. Her clothes were like the old man's. Light, faded blue and white striped. Button up shirt and this time her pants were short on her. Too short. They stopped a few inches above her ankle bone that pokes out to the side. ( Medial Malleolus?) Suddenly right after my 'thanks' she stopped. As if she had gotten startled.
   " B- bitte." She spoke quietly enough for me to hear. It was obvious that when she said ' you're welcome' to me there was a smile on her slender face. Quickly she scurried out of the dining room. I noticed during that exchange between the young women who happened to be a Jew, which didn't matter to me or any other American. I watched my uncle Joseph from the corner of my eye, slowly and calmly look up from his newspaper with an expression I could not pinpoint. Finally I decided to look at my Uncle Joseph as his blue eyes looked just barely over the edge of his newspaper making it so I only saw his forehead and sceptical blue eyes staring into mine. I just shrug and ignore the unfamiliar way he stared at me. Looking at me differently than he had the last time we were face to face. I could tell he has aged. It is now so different, yet so familiar: as if there was someone else controlling him. I don't like it one bit.

After breakfast I quickly get ready and we all pile up into the car and head toward the market in the city of Berlin. Trees, fields, and houses pass us by. The warm wind blowing my curly hair around. I never got bothered riding in a car with the windows down, in fact I preferred car rides with the windows down. Even in the fall. If the temperature was in the 50 degree fahrenheit range I'd have if not all of them, then at least one window down. I turn my head to look at my cousin Liesel.
   " Steiner's Tailor is owned by our neighbour's, the Steiner's who live to the left of us. It is a known landmark to us all in and around the city. You ask anyone directions they will always start at the Steiner's tailor shop and then direct you from their. The café, which is just down the street from Steiner's Tailor, just four or five shops down is where the café sits.
That is where everyone meets up. It is connected with a bar, so Friday nights, Saturday nights, and any celebrations going on will be extra packed. They need more people working at the café. Later we will get you an interview to work their. They'll most likely give you a raise. You'd be working a lot. Saturday night mostly, but I know you're fine with that, correct?" Liesel asked looking at me. " Gives you a chance to be where everyone is, know what is going on. You get to talk to people, but not long enough for them to get on your nerves." I couldn't help but laugh at Liesel. She knew me so well. Back at home if I could be downtown I would be downtown or at the beach as much as possible. I enjoyed being around people. I enjoyed the business of other people's lives. The morning rush of getting to work, the buzz and excitement of a party or some venue going on nearby and how excited everyone is. Even the farmer's market in the warm mornings of Spring and Summer.

   However, I wouldn't lie about being nervous around all of these Berliners. Not just Berliners, any German citizen that did in fact support their Führer willingly and not pretending to. Certain people, the few people, you could easily pick out and know they were faking. Just going with the flow. Just trying to survive, but failing miserably but not really blending in with the rest of the crowd.