The Wall Crossers

Same Evening - a Sign of Devotion at the Café

Olivia's perspective

At the café, a waiter comes out and takes our orders for Rüdesheimer Kaffee, which is a popular coffee drink with Asbach Uralt brandy and sugar cubes added, and whipped cream on top. We sip the coffee and laugh at each other's creamy mustaches!

It is cold for October. We are glad we have our warm coats on. Anja says, "Livie, what will you do if you go back to your home in US?"

"I don't know," I say.

"Do you have many friends there?", she asks.

"Not really," I say, looking at my kaffee drink, stirring it.

I look up and see her watching me intently. I swallow and feel nervous all at once and quickly ask her, "What will you do if Horst escapes the East, makes it through the Wall and comes to you, Anja?"

"Ach, mensch! (Oh man!)," she says, "We will, I guess, see if this suche (quest) was worth it."

"What do you mean?"

"We are on eine große suche (a big adventure), Livie. I have to see this through. But it involves you too."

We sip our kaffee, thinking. I ask her, in almost a whisper, "How does it involve me if Horst eventually comes through—over the Wall to you, Anja?"

Anja takes a deep breath and after a minute says, "Because we have to decide how... how we vill live our lives. Was gibt es noch? What else is there?"

"Anja," I say hesitantly, "... uh, how do you know for sure you love Horst? As much as... as you... as you could maybe love... someone..." I hesitate, and then finish in a rush, "... like... like, you know, how things maybe could be, you know... with me?"

Anja is staring across the street. She turns to look at me so that her lovely thick auburn hair cascades across her face, covering one eye, the other eye sparkles from all these glistery KuDamm lights, head tilted slightly down, hands in her lap. She slowly raises one hand, fingers combing her hair away from her eye and back behind her ear, raises her eyes now, both meeting mine. The cream and lipstick have been wiped from her lips. She has her lower lip between her teeth. I stare at her mouth, now shift my gaze to her eyes.

She finally says, "With Horst... we say our love to each other in our letters all the time, du albern Mädchen (you silly girl). But I do... I do spend all my time with you, Ja?"

She is looking at me so earnestly—like seeking my understanding, and I am so confused, I feel an overpowering emotion coursing through me. It rattles around in me with the feeling of a heart breaking on the edge of a hard truth.

I blink several times to stop selfish tears before they fall, and look away toward the constant flow of people passing our table—shoppers, lovers, late-leaving office workers, KuDamm workers, tourists, people selling things, people selling themselves, hippies selling trips, hippies on trips, mesmerized by all the lights and the people in motion.

My voice breaks, but I manage to ask, "Will you remember me, Anja—if... when I leave, to go back home?"

Anja quickly says, "Immer meine Liebe (Always my love). That is why... I wrote you this." She pulls a folded piece of paper, pretty light green in color, from the inside pocket of her coat. She is smiling now... an easy warm Anja smile that can evaporate away all apprehension and meld the shards of a heart back together again. She hands me the folded paper.

I look at her, my face a question. I take the paper, and with my expression ask, I should open this?

She nods and cups her face in her hands, her eyes sparkling. Something is happening. Something I did not expect.