You Are My Sunshine: A Novel Of The Holocaust (All My Love Detrick Companion Novel) (4 page)

Monda
y morning the office buzzed with whispers when Manfred arrived. Several people had been relieved of their jobs, there were even rumors of arrests, but no one knew why, no one but Manfred.  A pang of guilt shot through him. He’d ruined their lives, perhaps even had them sent to work camps. He’d heard that the camps were brutal, people died. A shiver ran up his spine. He was responsible. Shake it off, he told himself. If he got soft now, he would never have Christa, never get that promotion, and never win the prize. He must not allow that to happen. Besides, they probably were enemies of the Reich. They said terrible things about the party, about Goebbels, about Hitler. He’d heard them with his own ears. That meant they were traitors and if they were arrested then it was well deserved. He’d done nothing wrong. In fact, he’d helped to ensure Hitler’s visit would go off without a glitch. And wouldn’t it have been worse if somehow the Fuehrer had been harmed? What would become of Germany? What would become of Manfred?

Over the past
weekend, Goebbels ordered the arrest of four of his male employees. Those arrests were carried out by the Gestapo.

Four arrests
made so far….

The more Manfred kept his log
of traitors, the easier it became, and the justification grew more and more righteous in his mind. For the first time in his life, Manfred felt good to be a part of something bigger, something monumental. The party of Aryan rulers meant to save Germany.

By the
time, the day for Hitler’s arrival at the Ministry came around six more employees had been taken under arrest. But Manfred was too caught up in the preparations to give it much thought.  He must see to the orders of the special food and handmade white tablecloths with the Swastika insignia embroidered into their fine linen fabric.  Manfred shellacked the wood of the podium that Hitler would use for his speech until it shined like brushed gold. A brand new flag of the Führer was purchased and hung on a brass pole. While a hand painted, oil painting of Hitler was placed behind the podium.

On the eve before Adolf
Hitler’s arrival, Manfred and Goebbels surveyed the conference room.

“Once again, you did not let me down, Manfred. You’re
a diamond. And because you have been such a help, I would like to introduce you to our leader.”

Manfred gasped, he could hardly speak. “
Me?  Introduce me to Hitler?  Thank you. Truly thank you.”

“Be here early tomorrow. I want to be sure everything is perfect.”

“Of course.”

The excitement wafted through
the office like smoke after a huge fire. It was unavoidable and strong enough to penetrate the lungs polluting any clean air that might remain.

When Hitler arrived and entered the
office surrounded by his motorcade a roar of enthusiasm shook the room. Although Hitler was not a large man, he commanded attention.  It took five minutes of him raising his hands in an effort to quiet the crowd before he was able to speak.

Unlike his small stature, Hitler’s voices rang through the halls like an entire marching band. Manfred glanced around to see that the entire group was spellbound. Their faces open, receiving, internalizing everything the
Fuehrer said. It felt good to see a man, who was not athletic, and in many ways very much like himself, so powerful and adored. The women looked at him with such strong desire that Manfred was stunned. A smile crept over Manfred’s face. This was what he longed for. He would rise in the party; he would be a voice to be reckoned with.

After his speech, Hitler’s
bodyguards escorted him into the private conference room of the Minister of Propaganda. Only a few employees were invited, Manfred was among them.  As the diners took their places, Hitler stopped for a moment to admire the lovely tablecloth, ordered and designed by Manfred who beamed with the compliment, even though it was directed at Dr. Goebbels and not to him.

“You’ve done well,
Goebbels.”

“Thank you my
Fuehrer.”

“And who are you, young man?”

“I am Manfred Blau.” He replied.

“Manfred,
Blau…Joseph tells me that you are quite a help to him. In fact, he mentioned that you did some outstanding children’s books in order to further our cause. The young people are the most important citizens of the Third Reich; they are the future of our Aryan race. Correct?”

“Yes
, sir.”

“Good, very good.
I saw some of your work and being an art student myself, I must say it was quite impressive.”

“Thank you, thank you, sir.”

“We’ll have to keep an eye on you, Manfred Blau, now won’t we?” Hitler placed a strong hand on Manfred’s shoulder.

The food was delicious, but Manfred could hardly eat he was too enthralled. He met and spoke to Hitler himself. And Hitler was keeping
an eye on him. Manfred was on his way, he was moving up in the world.

On
Saturday, Manfred went to the park across the street from the Henkener’s home.  He took his seat on the bench and opened the small paper bag he’d packed. Taking a bite of the pastry inside, he licked his lips. Life was sweet. He was no longer an outcast, he was on his way to becoming an important man. His eyes fixed on the large cherry wood door of Christa’s house. Even from where he sat, he could see the thick gold knocker. Manfred took a deep breath. It took all of the courage he could muster. Then he stood up, tossed the bag and its contents into a trash can. Wiping his hands together to be sure that there was no trace of powdered sugar, he straightened his suit and tie and walked over to the house where the woman of his desires lived.

Once Manfred knocked on the
door, he was sorry he had. His nerves and feelings of inferiority returned. He wanted to run away, he wished he’d brought flowers. A million thoughts ran through his mind. But before he could turn and bolt, the door opened.  A maid with a navy blue uniform with white lapels and a crisp white apron, stood before him.

“Can I help you sir?”
The woman asked.

This was his only chance. If he left now he could never come back. His heart
beat so hard that it seemed to want to leap out of his chest. And then…there she was, Christa, beautiful Christa.

“Who
is it, Mary?” Christa asked the maid.

“I don’t know are you selling something?” The maid called Mary asked him.

“No, I’m here to see you.” He could not believe his own words. “Christa.”

“Do I know you?”

“Probably not, I was in your class in school, and I was wondering if you would like to have dinner or coffee with me.” How clumsy I am, he thought, how awkward. He stood trembling waiting for her answer, wishing the concrete beneath his feet would swallow him up.

It took a moment but to Manfred it seemed like centuries. Then a smile came over her lovely face. Her bright blue eyes danced.

“Yes,” she said, “A coffee would be nice, how about tomorrow afternoon?”

“Yes, yes, that would be fine. I will be here to pick you up at
two. Would that be alright?”

“
Yes, perfect.” She nodded.

“Well then…”

“Well then…”

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She closed the door and he walked back towards the bus, his feet on the ground but his head dancing in the clouds with the fairy king and his entire court.

By a quarter to
two, Manfred was pacing the sidewalks in front of the Henkener home. In his hands, he carried a bouquet of red roses and a box of cream filled chocolates, which had been quite difficult to acquire. He felt dizzy in a kind of dream like state. It was hard to believe that he would be spending time with Christa, the woman he’d wanted as long as he could remember, a woman far above his class. Until now, this had been only a fantasy. But…Soon he would sit across the table from her and they would sip coffee. She would speak to him while he gazed into her crystal blue eyes.

Manfred knocked on the door and waited. Christa answered instead
of the servant girl.

“Would you like to come in?”
She wore a pale blue dress that brought out the rich sky blue of her eyes. As she opened the door, he saw her pale pink nail polish and his heart fluttered. He missed nothing.  From her slender ankles to her golden wavy hair, Christa was truly lovely.

“Yes
of course.” He said, but he was frightened. He’d never dated a woman before and he’d certainly never been inside a potential girlfriend’s home meeting her parents. Manfred was glad that he was wearing the impressive black uniform of the SS. It gave him an air of sophistication, importance.   An importance he did not feel. After all, until just a few months ago he had been an unpopular boy at school, shunned by the more attractive athletic students. Forced to spend his time alone drawing pictures in the art lab.   Well, he bore no resemblance to that boy any more, at least not on the outside.

Christa showed him into a small sitting room with a plush love seat and two chairs upholstered
in deep gold velvet interlaid with hunter green needlework.  The walls were encased with books, their leather jackets bringing warmth to the room.

He handed her the gifts. “I brought you some things.” He said and he felt clumsy, awkward
, again.

“Thank you, the flowers are lovely. And the chocolates…well, they are my favorite kind. How did you know?
And how did you ever get them?”

He smiled. She had such poise, such grace.

“I didn’t realize that you were in the SS. You weren’t wearing your uniform yesterday when you arrived.”

“No, it was my day
off and I was just taking a walk.”

“So you just decided to come by?”

“I…yes…I just decided to come by…”

“How did you know where I
live? I’m afraid I don’t even remember you from school.” She placed the flowers in a vase, but did not yet go to the kitchen to water them.

“I
…well…I’ve always known.” He stammered, almost wishing he could get up and run out the door. “I guess you could say I’ve had a crush on you for years.” There, he’d said it. Now he felt even more foolish…vulnerable. His hands trembled as they gripped the sides of the chair. He looked down and noticed that his knuckles had turned white. Then quickly he released, hoping she didn’t see how nervous he was.

“I’m flattered.
” She smiled. Her teeth were like snow on Christmas morning against her light red lipstick.

She sat down in the chair beside him. From where he sat he could catch whiffs
of her perfume, not overpowering, just enough to be enticing.

“Well, Manfred. Tell me a little
about yourself.”

“I am an artist. I work under
Doctor Goebbels.”

“Really? That’s rather impressive for one so young. Have you ever met him?”

“I have. I speak with him all the time.”

“
Do you really?” He saw that she was impressed. It gave him strength “He sort of scares me. He looks so serious and stark.”

“I suppose he can be, but he has always been very nice to me.” Manfred began to relax.

“Why don’t we have coffee here? I can have Mary bring us a tray and we can just sit and talk.”

“If you prefer
,” Manfred said.

“Yes, and then perhaps I will allow you to take me for dinner.” She smiled. “Mary” she called and within
seconds, the woman appeared.

“Yes ma
’am”

“Can you bring us a tray with c
offee and some sweets?”

“
Of course, ma’am”

“So, I suppose you have seen Hitler?”

“I’ve dined with him.”

“My goodness,
you really have made a name for yourself.”

He smiled.

“My father doesn’t like the party. He doesn’t like Hitler or as he calls them, his goons.” She laughed and to him it sounded like the ring of tiny bells.

Manfred knew this was treason, but he would keep his mouth shut. With any
luck, this man would be his future father in law.

They sipped black c
offee. The pastries were small and bland. Christa apologized for the lack of sugar. “It’s hard to come by, as you must know.”

“Yes, I know.” He said and made a mental note to bring some s
ugar the next time he visited. Provisions were easier to acquire for party members.

The sun began to set casting a golden light on the trees and grass.

“May I be so honored as to take you to dinner?” Manfred asked not looking directly at her.

“Yes” she answered. “Let me go and get my purse.”

He had plenty of cash, and that felt good for a boy who’d been raised in poverty. The Nazi party was surely good to him.

As they walked towards the main street, he realized that he didn’t really know the area. It would have been wise to do some planning, to scope things out so that he could suggest a restaurant.