And Your Girl Can Sing

Chapter 53: Das Leben Geht Weiter

Hamburg was a giant swirl of color, heightened only by the experience I had with the truck a couple of minutes ago, heightened by Paul's touch, something I hadn't felt in a while, his slight frame against mine, different. Simple red skirts were made vermillion, German was louder, words sparred with each other in the air, urged on by their owners, the smell of the sea was overpowering. As I made my way along a side street, a familiar figure stood out to me, brighter than the rest, standing by a fruit vendor, looking down at the rows of apples with a glazed look.

    "Anna," I acknowledged. She too was watching, the world heightened as it was for me but probably tinged with a dreary gray. She had a look of fear in her eyes, I saw it as she suddenly moved her head towards me.

    "Cora." This was said in a slow voice.

    "I'm so sorry," I told her. "I'm so, so sorry."

    Anna shot me a glare which immediately softened. "It's not your fault. It's his." She spat out his like it was an unwanted substance in her mouth.

    I took a deep breath. "Anna," I started, not knowing quite how to go on, but feeling like I had to explain. "I know what he did was offensive—unacceptable, but..." the next part came out in a rush. "Not many people know this, please don't repeat it, but John lost his mother to a car accident a couple years ago. The... laughing is probably a coping mechanism," I did my best to explain, sudden tears forming in my eyes. Entschuldigung, entschuldigung went the people around us, and I gently took her sleeve and we maneuvered to the side of the narrow brick street against a wooden doorway with a metal dog dish. Anna was quiet, looking at the gray pavement. "I didn't know," she said at last. "Es tut mir leid. I slapped him. Oh, my."

    "You didn't know," I told her, an unexpected tear coming out of the left corner of my eye. "Anna, will Mila be all right?"

    She put a hand on my shoulder. "They don't know yet," she said, and then we were holding onto each other like it was the end of the world. I wrapped my arms around her, feeling the rough wool of her coat and smelling the flour of the bakery and an underlying tone of charcoal in her hair. My shoulder was pressed into the crook of her elbow, so tight but comforting to know that there was someone to share the pain with. She took a shuddering breath and stepped back and I was shocked to see that her eyes were dry. "Böses mit Gutem vergelten," she told me and we stood by the doorway a little before I translated throatily, "Meet evil with good."

    "Life goes on," she said.

    "Das Leben geht weiter," I repeated, surprised at my German, and she gave me a soft smile. "Where is John?" she asked.

    "I don't know. Top Ten, probably. Do you want me to go with you back h—"

    "Find John," she said. "At least I still have my mother for the meantime."

    "Anna—"

    "If she's gone, Cora, listen, I must take over the bakery shop. It's the only way."

    "Anna, don't think like that,"

    "I'll be fine," she said. "Ich werde in ordnung sein." She said it with such conviction I believed her, and she stepped back before disappearing into the throng of people.

***

    John wasn't by the water.

    I had doubled back, remembering why I had first stepped out of the cafe in the first place, to check by the water by the benches. Feeling like a jogger in New York City, I ran quickly by the benches, keeping an eye out for Uncle George's coat, but amongst the elderly feeding the pigeons and the young adults there was no sign of his familiar figure. Feeling frustrated, I slowed my run to a walk and lingered by a bench before deciding to sit down. Looking over the waters at the ships, I tried to collect my thoughts.