Remembering You (22 page)

“Why? Why?”

After all these years.

Tears sprang to her eyes, and silent gasps vibrated her chest. She didn’t know why she was asking him to do this. Dennis had known all along the pain they carried. The pain of sharing.

“Grandpa?” She leaned forward and touched the checkered sleeve of his shirt. “You don’t have to do this. I’m sorry.” A sob escaped. “I’m sorry I pushed this on you. I’m sorry I didn’t understand.” She pinched the fabric between her fingers, realizing these men never left 1945. This trip wasn’t about remembering. It was about returning to the place that was always with them.

Ava released his sleeve. Moments like this were exactly what would make for good television, but her heart was heavy. She didn’t want to gain viewers at her grandfather’s expense.

“You don’t need to do this,” she repeated.

He lowered his hands and looked at his lap.

“I’m proud of you, Grandpa. Proud of who you were then and who you are now. I’ve always been proud of you, and if you never sit in front of this camera again, I’ll love you just the same.” There would always be another job. She’d deal with that. But this day with this amazing man was something that would never come again.

He nodded and attempted to stop his trembling chin. After a minute passed, she turned off the camera. Her grandfather’s eyes met hers. “I’m sorry, Ava. I can’t do this now, but I’d like to finish stronger. I know I didn’t play a big part in the first videos, but as we continue…I have some things to say.”

Ava tilted her head, surprised. “Really? Are you sure? It’s okay if the camera sits in the trunk the rest of this trip.”

“I have a story I need to tell. I didn’t realize it until I started reading through my old letters.” He lifted his head and looked at her. “You know, Ava, I wasn’t kind to you. At Thanksgiving I challenged your upcoming marriage, but I didn’t tell you what troubled me. I see something in you that reminds me of myself. For so long, I worked to do everything right, while missing the whole point of life. At Mauthausen concentration camp I learned that I was just as imprisoned as the prisoners there—but the brick walls were inside me. I thought I’d built them for protection, but I was the one enslaved. And on this trip I did the same thing—trying to protect myself from the pain. I’d like to tell you about the concentration camp, not now, but when we get to Austria.” He cleared his throat. “And if I’m willing to do that, I think my friend here needs to face something too.”

Her grandfather turned to Paul. “You’re afraid to pray because you don’t want to be disappointed, but prayer is more about being willing to change ourselves. To know God has the answers.”

“You’re sounding like a preacher,” Grand-Paul said with a huff. Then he lowered his chin. “And it’s a sermon I’ve needed to hear.”

They sat in silence for several minutes.

“I like what you’re saying about the walls coming down too.” Grand-Paul cocked an eyebrow at Grandpa Jack. “So are you going to talk about
everything
now?” Even though Grand-Paul didn’t mention Chenogne, they all knew what he was talking about.

“That’s different.” Grandpa’s chin jerked upward like a yo-yo on a string.

Grand-Paul crossed his arms over his chest. “Is it?”

“I was talking about allowing Ava to videotape me talking about the camps.”

Grand-Paul nodded but didn’t say a word. Ava felt like her heart was going to break. Whatever happened in Chenogne impacted her grandfather even more than discovering the piles of bodies, the half-dead prisoners.

Ava didn’t know Dennis had approached and was standing behind her. She didn’t know that she was crying, until Dennis gently wiped her cheek with his curled finger. His touch was gentle. She glanced up at him and offered a sad smile.

Deep inside she realized she really would never know her grandfather until she knew what happened in Chenogne. She looked at Dennis, and his eyes attempted to see inside her as if challenging her walls too.

Was it worth sharing everything?

Chapter Twenty-Two

Ava was buckling up her seatbelt when the cell phone in her pocket vibrated. She pulled it out and saw that it was Jill calling.

“Dennis, can you hold on? I’m getting a call from work that I need to take.”

Dennis nodded and turned off the car engine, but he didn’t seem happy about it. They’d all experienced a powerful, emotional connection as her grandpa Jack shared about the walls he’d built up—the ones he was still trying to break down. The mention of work pulled them back to reality like loose change being sucked up into a vacuum cleaner.

Ava climbed from the car, walking toward the sidewalk with long strides. “Jill, thanks for calling! Did Todd like the latest video?”

“Oh, the video. Yeah, it was great.” Jill’s voice sounded far off, and it wasn’t just from the distance of the call. “We’re already getting e-mails on our website. Everyone loves it.”

“Good news. But something’s wrong.” She slowed her pace. “I can hear it in your voice.”

The line was silent for a moment, and Ava was trying to decide if she’d dropped the call when Jill spoke.

“I wasn’t really calling about the videos or the ratings. It’s something you asked me to research.”

Ava glanced back to the car. Three sets of eyes were on her. She forced a smile and then walked a little way farther down the sidewalk. Her shoulders tightened with every step.

“What is it?” She bit her lip, thinking of the two things she’d asked Jill to help with—finding Angeline and Chenogne. She didn’t want bad news about either.

“Do you want bad news…or worse news first?”

“I don’t like the sound of that, Jill. Don’t you have some good news to throw in?”

“You already got the good news. Everyone likes the videos.”

“The bad news then.”

“Okay, I’ve done a ton of research, but I can’t find anything about that woman Angeline Pirard.”

Ava approached a small brick wall and sat. She didn’t want to look back at the car. She didn’t want to see the guys watching her. “Well, I found something. It’s a woman by the same name in Linz, Austria. I’m going to look her up when I get there.”

“Oh, that’s good.” Jill’s voice sounded hesitant. Then she continued. “I discovered information about Chenogne. You’re right, there wasn’t much on the Internet, but I went to the library. Marge, in the reference department, found an old book. In it were soldiers’ stories and one talking about Chenogne. She’s supposed to scan the page and e-mail it to you.”

“Can you give me a quick rundown? I won’t be on e-mail until tonight.”

Ava dared to glance at their car still parked in front of the hotel. The guys had gotten out of the car and were now standing in the sunshine. As she watched them, Dennis glanced over. Ava quickly looked away, turning her attention to the cobblestone sidewalk.

“The e-mail has more information, but something happened in Chenogne. Something to do with prisoners of war on New Year’s Day 1945. But maybe it wasn’t even your grandpa’s unit.”

“Thank you for looking,” Ava said, not feeling thankful at all.

“I’ll let you know if I find out about that girl.”

“Oh yes, that would be great. I’ll let you know if I find out something too.”

Ava hung up the phone. It wasn’t until after she’d tucked it back into her jean pocket that she realized she hadn’t asked Jill about how things were going at the station and with the morning show. She hardly had the strength to walk back to the car and pretend to enjoy the day. All her mind could focus on was that something happened on New Year’s Day 1945. Something that her grandfather could have been a part of.

Ava forced a smile as she hurried back to the car. “I’m so sorry to keep you waiting.”

Dennis’s eyes scanned her face and he frowned. “Is everything okay? You’re a little pale.”

“Am I?” Ava patted her cheeks. “I hope I’m not coming down with something.” She stressed the last word. “Just work stuff—things I can take care of when I get home.” She waved off his concerns and then climbed into the backseat of the car next to her grandfather.

The others got in the car.

“You sure everything’s all right?” Grandpa Jack patted her hand, and she winced slightly.

“Yes.” She rubbed her forehead. “It’s just a little problem, but it’ll all work out. The good news is Jill said they liked the videos.”

Dennis started the car, and Ava was ready to leave this place. To move on to a different city with other stories.

Ava looked out the window, watching the buildings as they passed, seeing the German people walking by. Some in ordinary clothes, some in business suits, mothers pushing prams.

In the front seats, Grand-Paul and Dennis talked about their flights home and a family reunion they were planning with Dennis’s family for that summer.

Beside Ava, Grandpa Jack sat silently, looking out the window, taking in the view of the German countryside. Did he think about his friends who had been captured near Chenogne? Did they all make it out, or did some die in the prison camps?

Ava pushed those thoughts out of her mind. Or at least tried to. Then she pulled out the last of the letters her grandfather had given her. They were the ones he hadn’t wanted her to read, and she guessed that perhaps some of the events of Chenogne were within these pages.

February 5, 1945

Dear Mom and Dad
,

I have to say I’m thankful January is over. We’re leaving Belgium behind—or at least that’s our plan. We’re parked outside in a little village, waiting for what’s to come. There’s a stream that runs through the village, and at night all the villagers come down to water their cattle. I want to hate the enemy, but these people don’t seem like they’re the enemy. It’s hard figuring out what to think. It’s hard to deal with what we must do. What we have done.

I’ve been having nightmares again. But can they be called nightmares if the events really happened? Over and over I see the soldiers being lined up. I try to scream, to tell them to run, but no words come out. I try to run, so I don’t have to watch, but my feet won’t move. They look at me with trust in their eyes, and I just look away.

With my love,

Jack

Ava paused. She folded up the letter and held it tightly between her fingers. She didn’t want to believe what Jill had revealed was true, but now she knew it was. She closed her eyes and tried to picture it—having good friends rounded up by the Germans.

Ava wished her grandma was still around. It would have been great to talk to her about all this—to see how Grandma Maggie had handled her husband’s memories and experiences of the war. Grandma might have been able to advise her when to listen and when to prod. Or Grandma might have just said it was enough to hold the knowledge inside and trust that love and respect for her grandfather would go further than words ever could.

God, help me here. I don’t know what to do…what to say. How to say it. Help me to promote healing and not pain. Help me not to judge or jump to conclusions.

Ava glanced up and studied the back of Dennis’s head. She noted the way his dark hair curled on his neck, and she was suddenly flooded with a new gratefulness that he was here and she didn’t have to do this—the trip, the driving, the talking, the remembering—without him. She also wondered if she should talk to Dennis about what she knew. She wondered if she’d be able to continue her work. Her videos seemed so shallow now. They merely scratched the surface.

She’d try to do better, but she didn’t have much time. There would only be two more videos, and then they’d be at Mauthausen. The experience there would speak for itself as survivors joined with liberators. It would be good to celebrate the freedom some found despite Hitler’s attempts to steal, kill, and destroy.

Ava tucked the letters back in her bag. She couldn’t read more now. She leaned back against her seat—trying to take it all in, attempting to make sense of everything she was learning.

Grand-Paul turned to her. “So, you find out anything interesting?”

She looked at her grandfather, and the sadness of this morning was gone. A new emotion was there—worry.

“Not much.” She offered her grandfather a smile.

Grandpa Jack squeezed her hand and then released it, and for the first time on this trip, she wished she didn’t know so much. Because deep down, she’d never look at her grandfather the same again.

Was there something he could have done to help those men?

Chapter Twenty-Three

The fading sun descended on one of Germany’s most famous buildings, the Festspielhaus—Festival Hall—opened in 1876.

Ava crossed her arms as she looked around the manicured grounds in front of the famous opera house designed by Richard Wagner. A picture she’d seen on the Internet had shown scowling brownshirts with rifles on their shoulders, guarding the entrance. It also showed Hitler, standing at a podium near the front steps, wooing the crowd with his words and SS troops marching down the road. She shuddered.

Grandpa Jack and Grand-Paul had shared more of their stories at the hotel in Bayreuth and then asked if they could wait there to rest. She and Dennis had come to the Festspielhaus together, and while she was drawn to the front of the building, taking in the sight of the tall steps that Hitler had strode up hundreds of times, Dennis had walked just down the road to the Richard Wagner gardens to stretch his legs.

Ava had just returned her camera to its case when a young man approached, carrying a frayed knapsack over his shoulder and a digital camera in his hand. He smiled as he walked up to her—a flirty smile—and Ava felt heat rising to her cheeks. He reminded her of Brad Pitt in his younger years, only cuter.

“Excuse me.” He had a bit of an accent, Scottish maybe.

“Yes?”

“I was wondering if you wouldna mind taking my photo. Maybe over here on the steps.”

“Sure.” She took the camera from him, and his fingers brushed hers.

“Beautiful evening.” He smiled.