The Wall Crossers

I will Always Wait for You

Olivia's Perspective

As Edvard drops us off in front of Anja's flat, we see that Elke is also arriving, along with Annelie and Manfred of the party, getting out of a black Mercedes that pulls up to the curb behind us.

Anja is frantic and distraught. Her friends run up to her, still wearing their party finery, and they all hug her and are speaking together rapidly in German. As they talk, they walk together to the doorsteps of Anja's flat. She is telling them. They look at each other in deep worry. Anja is crying. So is Annelie. Manfred draws out a handkerchief—blows his nose.

I can tell from catching some of their words they are offering assistance and want to go inside and discuss the situation together. I hear them mention the East a couple of times.

I stand to the side feeling forlorn and dejected.

I hear Anja say, "Let's go inside." Since we exited the car, she has not spoken to me.

I close my eyes. I see our future: Anja and I are married. We live in West Germany, near Frankfurt. We have... one child. What was that name she said she loved when she imagined a child? It was... Sasha. Yes! We have a daughter, Sasha. I work in technology, her Papá, with his many connections, has gotten me a job. Anja is a manager in an industrial firm. Horst is in her past... long forgotten. Anja and I are so happy! Leida? She is married, to Raphaela, living a life of bliss in Wolfach, in the Black Forest, in a light blue and white two storey house. All is happiness and contentment, for all of us, except... where does Elke fit in this? I saw their exchanged glances at the party.

I open my eyes again, the reverie ending. I call to her, "Anja, please do not go into the East. You will be in danger there."

The four of them stop, turn to me, like they just remembered I am here. I am on the sidewalk, they are near her steps, although not within touching distance of each other.

Anja replies, "I have to go to him... his family. I have to find them."

"Anja, please... " I start to say, but I see she has crossed her arms, so I adjust my appeal, "... then let me help you. Let me go with you."

In barely a whisper, she says, "Nein, Olivia."

Elke, Annelie, and Manfred watch us—quietly. Arms wrapped around themselves, or hands in their coat pockets, to keep warm.

"Anja," I say, my voice breaking, almost in a whimper, conveying deep anguish, "Ich werde niemals die Frau eines anderen sein (I will never be anyone else's wife but yours)!" My arms are hanging limp at my sides. I have on my burgundy coat, as does she. I notice from the corner of my eye that Annelie and Manfred glance at each other. Elke claps her hands up to her open mouth.

Though it is very cold standing here outside, I feel an even colder devastation coursing through my veins, flooding through my freezing heart. Worse even than what we experienced at the Wall tonight.

I walk to her, draw near, saying in an imploring voice, "Anja." She waits. I close the distance further. I look into her eyes and raise my right hand so she sees my ring. "I will never remove this ring." I hold it against my heart, as we often do, as if it symbolizes our only sweet child together, but so she must certainly now see how our kiss-less bond must even yet hold us together so powerfully.

I take another step—close enough now to touch her, to smell her wonderful, sweet Anja smell that I love so much, that I cannot bear to lose.

Elke breaks the moment's silence, "Oh, Anja..." she looks straight at Anja, but points her right hand, fingers together, toward me, saying, "... Olivia. Was müssen wir wegen Olivia tun (What must we do about Olivia)?" She is appealing to Anja... for me? Anja stares at her. I glance between them as they give each other a look that I do not comprehend. Anja looks back at me, then to Elke again. Elke again clasps her gloved hands, down now in front of her coat, twisting her fingers nervously.