The Wall Crossers

Wed 12 January - 9:00am Going to Tempelhof - Olivia's perspective

I am on my way to Tempelhof Airport for my flight today back to the States so I can process out of the Army tomorrow. I am riding in a 30-passenger Mercedes bus and am the only passenger.

The bus's diesel engine growls and its heaters fill the compartment so that, along with my heavy winter Army overcoat and my nerves, I almost feel feverish.

At this time of morning, mid-week, normally there would be lots of traffic. But when I woke up earlier and looked outside the barracks, it was snowing. The snow has ended, but people must be off to a slow start today due to the weather. The snow dampens things: it dampens sound and dampens bad memories. I like that.

The bus driver is talking incessantly about his workday today, and how he must go to the train station, after dropping me off at the airport, to pick up troops there. I am not responding to him as I have too much on my mind.

I shift my gaze down the streets as we cross each intersection. The Wall looms everywhere here in Berlin—a relentless reminder that the Cold War casts its shadow over all of us, a senseless puzzle where we're nothing more than small, displaced pieces. I think about home, a place where surely I will be welcomed and understood, but then I catch my reflection in the glass and see—a stranger looking back at me. I close my eyes, letting the world blur away, trying to forget everything, daydreaming about the simplicity of driving my own car down familiar roads again.

I am also thinking of Anja, and feeling such an overwhelming emptiness and loss, wondering where she could be right now. And I feel that with every inch closer I get to the airport surely is that is one more mile away from Anja.

I wish my Uncle Richard could be here. He liberated Berlin once long ago, maybe he could help me rescue Anja too? Does she want me to rescue her? If she is with Horst, then that was her dream. Why would she wish to be rescued from her dream?

As we get closer to the airport, there is more traffic now, and we are moving slower. I look at the people passing by each time we stop and wonder about them: could I be one of them? Could I just stay in Berlin, not go home and instead get a job here? Then wait until I can find Anja again, or she could find me? We could at least be friends, and Horst could be my friend too—that is if he survived his wound(s) at the Wall. For certainly, he was shot. We could see that.

That night was so awful. Anja was so upset. I didn't know what to do... what to say. I offered to go with her, to the East. She said "no". Did she not want me with her, or was it just too emotional that night for her, or me, to think clearly?

If Horst is dead, why would Anja still be in the East? What was it last night I imagined when I was restless, unsleeping, and envisioning a tragic future without Anja? She had been arrested! This had not occurred to me before, but it makes sense—she is connected to an escape attempt and goes into the East straight to those who might turn her in, or those who could be watching for her!

This thought makes my heart race and I feel such fear I want to tell the driver to stop the bus, let me out, so I can run to the checkpoint and go into the East myself, right now!

But, where would I go? I should have asked Anja for Horst's home address. Why did I not think of that?

I try not to think of Leida. I feel so guilty about her. And sad too, because—the truth is I love her too. But even Frau Elisa agreed—I should not call Leida. And that riddle she gave me... it surely meant Anja would be my wife. Right? And yet, here I am on a bus, going to the airport, going home. But Elisa also said home is my future wife. That was so bewildering! One who waits and doesn't know she waits knows who my wife will be. Far out! And weird.

And one more thing she said, I would hear in a dream and then hear in waking life Don't doubt your heart when faced with fear. And I did hear that in my dream—last night! So, what does this mean? I should turn for home if I hear it again. But I am already heading home! Maybe home means something else in her prophesy—perhaps I will understand this some day. It is all so perplexing!