Dinah

Fences and Walls

Constantijn strode quickly down the street, his head ducked, long legs making fast time, although he didn't particularly have a destination. His head was bubbling full of information and complications and he needed his feet to move at the speed of his thoughts.

Things were tense at home. The whole family was waiting in breathless anticipation for something, and of course nothing good. Constantijn didn't know why, or why they couldn't just breathe a little easier and maybe smile a bit, but that seemed, unfortunately, to be how things were. Oma walking around the house with her cane that she used more to wave around threateningly than to walk with, and Isold trying to keep the younger children from completely destroying the house, and when two forces ran up against each other like that, sparks flew. And Constantijn had gotten out of the house because he didn't care to stick around when two women butted heads. Dieter had always told him to clear the area of small children and then get out of there. Sometimes he even left the children to their own devices.

That was, before Dieter had left for the Russian Front almost a year ago, leaving Constantijn with enough thinking and debating himself to last until the war ended - however far away that was.

The night before he'd left he hadn't been able to get to sleep, which of course had kept Constantijn awake because the two shared a bed. When Werner and Rolf could be heard snoring across the room, he mumbled, "Con'?"

"Yeah?" Constantijn was justifiably annoyed. He loved his brother and all, and he wanted to spend as much time with him as possible before he left, but it had to be nearing two in the morning and he was tired.

"If I told you something important, would you keep it a secret?"

"Did you kill someone?" Constantijn whispered, smirking despite exhaustion.

"No. I guess I'm going too, though," He sighed.

Constantijn bundled his pillow underneath his head, "Alright. I'll keep your secret."

"I -" Dieter sighed, and then said quickly, as if to get it over with, "I don't think I agree with everything he says,"

"The Führer?" Constantijn didn't hardly have to ask. He'd seen Dieter's tight frown when he stood in the doorway of the living room listening to Hitler's speeches on the family's old radio, and the way he watched Werner, concerned, whenever the older boy spoke so fervently of the man and the cause.

"Yeah."

"Okay."

"Really?" Dieter breathed, relieved.

Constantijn looked at where his brother's face probably was in the dark, and wondered how long he'd had that bouncing around his head, "I think... I don't know what I think," He decided with a sigh, "But that's a secret too, okay?"

"Mm-hmm," Dieter flung an arm over Constantijn, which the younger didn't really like but he was also terrified it might be the last hug he'd ever get from Dieter, "Night,"

"Night."

Dieter hadn't written in almost three months.

"Dieter!" He looked up sharply - at this point he responded to any of his brothers' names; all the Rot boys looked alike. Shaggy white-blong hair, icy blue eyes, set gazes. The ideal Aryan type, although Constantijn wasn't sure what he thought of that anymore.

His eyes met those of Thea Weiss, whose expression fell, "Oh. Constantijn," She said, not doing a very good job at hiding her disappointment, "Have you been well?"

"Good enough," Constantijn shrugged, taking her hand, "I'm sorry, we still haven't heard from Dieter,"

Thea nodded, and they started to walk together, "I don't mean to get my hopes up like that, everytime I see anyone who might look remotely like him. I don't want to disappoint myself."

"I know," Constantijn frowned at the sidewalk. He didn't do much smiling these days, "That's what Mama keeps saying. But she's been miserable about the whole mess ever since Pieter died. Maybe it's better to be optimistic, if you're going to feel just as low if everything goes wrong,"

Thea nodded, and Constantijn didn't argue when she changed the subject, "What brings you to town, then?"

The truth was, Constantijn didn't have any reason to walk the three miles to town. He hadn't even meant to come this far, his feet had just carried him that way.

"No reason, really," He said, "I'll walk with you a little while."

"Sure," Thea smiled, and then stayed content to walk quietly, hand in hand. Constantijn let his thoughts wander again, although this time to what was coming in the week ahead. It didn't matter what he thought of the Nazi party, he and dozens of other Hitler Youth were being drafted to relieve troops on the Russian Front. The standard issue gloves and hat weren't going to cut it. If Constantijn wanted to keep his ears and nose, he'd better find at least a scarf. Earmuffs if he could - thick gloves would be best. Maybe the clothing store in town, or if Oma cared to knit him a scarf...

Constantijn spent a great amount of time wondering at the marvel of his grandmother making something nice for him when Thea's grip on his hand tightened, "Do you hear something?" She asked, her bright eyes darting around, "Crying."

Constantijn's heart skipped when he realized where they were.

"No," He said, although he heard it plainly. A child's cry, isolated and scared, bawling a name. "Dinah."

Coming from the ghetto. He could just see the hideous scene through the slats in the poor wooden fence.

Constantijn grabbed Thea's arm and yanked her in the opposite direction, "No, and Mama wants me back before dinner. Isn't yours worried about you?"

"She's visiting Uncle Horst in Stuttgart," Thea said, "Constantijn, are you okay?"

"No - yes! Thea, we have to go, please."

Thea must have recognized the look of costernation on Constantijn's face from Dieter, and nodded, and walked quietly beside him.

They walked until they stood on the landing in front of Thea's family's apartment, comfortable although plain and a bit crowded with a family of five.

"Constantijn?" Thea held onto his wrist as he started to pull away, "What happened?"

Constantijn stared at her, and weighed Dieter's - and everyone's -love and trust for the girl against the inevetable punishment if he said anything that didn't sound quite right.

But Dieter loved her. He owed that to him.

"Did Dieter ever tell you what he thought?" Constantijn asked, his voice low, "Of - things?"

Then she understood, "Yes."

He nodded, "I'm figuring things out."

"Okay," She said, "Stay in touch. Thanks for the walk."

"Yeah," And Constantijn turned and walked down the stairs, his thoughts bursting.