The Wall Crossers

It is June

Olivia's perspective

It is June. We walk down Finckenstein Allee to the station. Then board the train at Thielplatz. The train passes through Heidelberger Platz, Fehrbelliner Platz, Hohenzollern Platz, Wittenberg Platz. Me watching the passing stations' lights flashing across Anja's lovely face as she sits across from me. And then we disembark at the famous sonorous and light-streaked KuDamm!

Or another day, we take the U-bahn all the way to Rudow—the end of the line.

We have sparkling days in the sun on the weekends. Laughing. She talks endlessly of Horst. I listen. My heart is overjoyed, exhilarated.

Anja's perspective

We are walking along in the Steglitz district of southeast Berlin. This area is known for its exotic shops and eateries.

We stop at a small curio shoppe and Livie nods to it. I nod back, in agreement. We step inside—it smells of musty old things, and varnish and, curiously, there is a hint of baby powder in this dimly-lit air!

I notice the walls are dark wood paneling. Floors are creamy tiles. In the ceiling, there are—so many strands of small lights, like stars.

Olivia's perspective

Some of the starry lights above us are blinking, like twinkling—so far out! There are shelves of products, and tables with displays, and cabinets full of eye-catching things. Anja and I stand frozen, gawking.

The proprietor, a man who resembles Geppetto of the Pinocchio fairy tale, looks up from reading a newspaper and smiles, nods, eyes warm, inviting.

I go left and look through some mechanical dolls—Anja goes right and looks at mechanical trains, picks one up, turns it over, to see its working parts.

We browse around the shop. I look at some home-craft pottery. Anja searches through some old magazines.

Next, she moves to a curio cabinet. The man walks to her, opens the cabinet, and pulls out a small object. He places it in Anja's open hand. Her mouth ovals as she looks down on it. I step over there to see. It is a cat-eye marble, about seven or eight cm in diameter.

"Hold up to zee light," the man tells her. She does. I say, "Cat-eye marble."

The man looks to me, studies me, says, "Luke clozely." We do. I look quizzical, tilt my head, look at the man. He smiles warmly, says, "Dragon in dare." He picks up the marble from Anja's hand, holds it up to the light. We both crouch down a bit, peering at it. He says, "See zee head, wing, zee tail? And small lump on back of dragon—a person with flowing dress, she is riding diss dragon!"

We look. We see it! We look at each other, grinning.

"Fünfundvierzig Mark (45 marks)." The man is looking at Anja. She looks at me. I look at the marble. I take it from Anja, study it closely. It has a constellation of blemishes throughout, like tiny bubbles, which create a pretty suspended starscape. There is one dark smudge within—maybe dragon smoke? "Look, Anja... stars, and dragon smoke!" The man nods, agreeing, whispers, "Umm, Ja."

Anja puts on her business face, looks dispassionately at the man, says, "Fünfundzwanzig Mark. (25 marks).

The man smiles so sweetly at Anja, says, "Fünfunddreißig Mark (35 marks). Es ist Seeglas, meine Liebe (It is sea glass, my dear)."

Anja's voice gets breathy, like a child's. She slowly says, head still down toward the marble, but eyes flicking up to me, "Tach (Oh). He says it is sea glass, Livie." Her eyes shift back down. She continues, in a voice so soft I can barely hear, "I adore sea glass."

The man takes a cloth, polishes the marble, wraps it in crinkly thin almost translucent white paper and puts it in a small black giftbox, hands it to Anja. She pays him. She turns to me, hands me the tiny box, says, "Livie, my gift to you, this little dragon."

The man observes my reaction, my joy, studies my dress, my nails, my hair, says kindly to me, partly in English, "And having diss person is riding on it, Ja? Are you that person, mein hübsches Mädchen (my pretty girl)?"

My heart warms. I am so so happy. I look away from the giftbox, from the man, from Anja, to the window, out to the street, where the sun is bright. I would rather be nowhere else in the world than right here, right now, with Anja. I reach my left hand out, not looking at her. She takes it, squeezes it. I am so in love.

Anja's perspective

As soon as I give Livie the gift, I realize I might have made a big mistake! I hope she does not consider this to be any sort of token of commitment! So I say, "Livie, I... I just wanted you to have ziss, you know, ziss Souvenir. Ja? For when... for when you are back in the US, Ja?" But she is staring out the window and there is a huge smile on her face.

We leave the shoppe, I am still holding her hand, Livie so very happy, but I am worried. Soldiers leave—they do not stay. And I... I am committed to someone else. I must be more careful... not to give the wrong impression.

And anyway, she is a girl, and I certainly have no romantic attraction to girls! No, never! Could I?