Dinah

Magdalena

Constantijn dropped Holde off at the factory where she worked, just outside of town, and then stood emptily outside the giant building, wondering what to do with himself.

So he started walking, and before too long he ended up in town again, although further from the Ghetto than he had been yesterday.

The park in town was small and unkept, but the small pond in the middle was still good for skating when it froze over, and the gazebo had long been a spot for boys to take their ladies after dark - not anymore, though, since the war started and not only were there curfews, but the boys were off fighting. Pieter had proposed to Holde there, and Dieter had taken Thea about every other night. Her parents were absolutely fuming at first, before they figured out he really didn't mean anything wrong, and then Thea's father gave Dieter a knife and told him to take good care of Thea or he'd personally use the knife to gut him. And the way Thea's father was, he was dead serious.

As a few dribbles of rain came down, Constantijn quickened his pace to the cover of the gazebo, and sat down on one of the benches in there. The benches, as well as the posts and half-walls, were marked all over with little hearts and initials. Some were scribbled out. Constantijn knew that Werner had erased several in the past few years.

Not too long after he'd sat down, the pitter-patters quickened and then there were torrents, and Constnantijn saw a figure racing through the wet to the gazebo.

She dove under the cover, fast breath steaming in the cool air. Then she pulled her coat tighter around her and smiled shyly at Constantijn, “Hello,”

“Hi,” Constantijn felt himself turn bright red. She was pretty. Her hair, soaked thoroughly, was a sort of golden red, and she had bright eyes. Maybe they were gray, or else a shaded blue, but they were bright.

As she sat down on the bench next to the one Constantijn sat on, he realized that they were clearly both planning on being here for a while and he'd better make conversation. “Are you from around here? I haven’t seen you before,”

She shook her head, water flying through the air. She reached back to wring out her hair and said, “No, I'm from the opposite side of town. On Willem-Straas. I came to meet the train,” She brought her hands down and frowned at her watch, “I wonder if I might as well go, I'm soaked already,”

Constantijn resisted the urge to burst out his words, “No, I wouldn't,” He said. And then he couldn't think of a reason why he wouldn't and turned redder. “Who are you meeting on the train?”

“My father,” She said, “He's coming home from Kiev,”

“There's a train coming from the eastern front?” Constantijn said, only just containing his surprise.

She nodded.

“Oh,” He said, and realized it was stupid to suddenly get his hopes up like that. They hadn't heard from Dieter. He couldn't be coming home. He probably wasn't ever coming home. “You're excited, then, aren't you?”

“It's been a year and a half since I saw him last,” She said, “He was sent when they occupied Poland, and he's been right at the front lines since,”

“He's brave,” Constantijn murmured thoughtfully.

She laughed without any sense of humor, “He is, but not brave to be there. He doesn't have any choice but to be there. It only counts if you choose to do something, or if your heart's in it,” At the expression on Constantijn's face, she said defensively, “At least, that’s what I think,”

Constantijn nodded, “I think I agree with you,”

She smiled. It was beautiful.

Constantijn's cheeks got hot and he turned his head, on the pretense of observing the weather, “I think we're going to be here a while,” He said, “Will your father know you're coming?”

She stood and leaned on the short wall of the gazebo, crossing her arms, “He'd better. I'm the only family he's got and he can't be so stupid as to think he's going to walk all the way home with only a leg and a half - that's why he's coming home,” She said, looking at Constantijn, “A friend of his stepped on a land mine,” Here her tone was soft, subdued.

“I'm sorry,” Constantijn said, standing and walking over next to her, “Did you know his friend well?”

“They grew up together,” She said, “Papa talked about him all the time. He always wanted to take me to his hometown to meet him,” Then she laughed and ducked her head, “I don't know why I'm telling you all this,”

“I don't mind,” Constantijn said quickly, and then added, “That is, if you don't,” Her voice sounded - well, really, it sounded ordinary, but he liked it. Constantijn, what are you doing?! A voice in his head said. You don't even know her name! You've only been talking to her for five minutes!

“I'm Constantijn, by the way,” He said, extending his hand. He didn't give her his last name. He didn't want to be associated with his father, because the right girl would be repulsed by the man.

“I’m Magdalena,” She smiled. “It's nice to meet you,”

Okay. So you got her name. You're also leaving for Russia in a week. You'll go and get killed and leave her hurting?

Constantijn stiffened. He couldn't.

“You, too,” He murmured. “I - I should probably go. I told my friend I'd be there in ten minutes. I'm sorry,”

“Sorry for what?” Magdalena smiled, but her eyes knew. They were such pretty eyes. They were gray, Constantijn decided, like the ocean on a cloudy day.

“Oh - nothing, really, I guess,” He blushed. “It - it was nice talking to you,”

She nodded, “You, too,”

Constantijn nodded, and gave her a last wan smile, and turned and strode into the rain.