The Watcher Page 6

  Watcher stopped, his head turned, listening. He gave one quick bark, and I put my hand on his head. “Sh, Watcher,” I whispered. Watcher stopped barking and stood alert, except for that one floppy ear. I noticed that when I spoke in whispers, Watcher often became still, as if he knew he must not bark or move.

  The voices stopped. I tried not to gaze in their direction, although I could tell they were near the fence. I started walking again, as if I had heard nothing. Once we passed the corner, we ran down the sidewalk toward the park gate.

  “I’ve got to see who’s in there before they have a chance to leave,” I told myself breathlessly. As I turned to go through the entrance, I looked up to see an elderly man and a youth with a dog coming down the outer pathway. The older man was smoking a pipe. I took in a breath as I recognized the young man with him. “Barret!” I didn’t mean to say his name aloud, but I was surprised to see him there.

  The two men stopped in surprise and the dog, Heidi, stood still, her eyes on Watcher and me. “Who is it?” Barret asked.

  “It’s me. Wendy.”

  The older man grasped Barret’s arm, and an expression of alarm and astonishment passed over his face.

  Watcher stood close and began to bark loudly. “It’s all right, Watcher,” I said, patting his head and ears. “Sit! I mean, sitz!” Watcher looked up at me quizzically and then sat at my feet.

  “So, this is the wonderful dog you told me about,” Barret said slowly. “I can tell he’s well trained—and he speaks German.” A smile broke over his face.

  The old man said nothing, but eyed me curiously.

  “I . . . I’m sorry if I startled you,” I apologized, and wondered if the man spoke English too. “Barret and I seem to be bumping into each other lately.” I turned to Barret. “Do you live nearby, Barret?”

  “Not too far away,” he replied. “My grandfather and I come here to walk the dog.” Barret gestured toward the older man, who still held on to Barret’s arm. “May I introduce my grandfather Konrad Strohkirch? I’m sorry, but I am not sure of your full name, Wendy.”

  “Wendy Dekker.” I noticed Herr Strohkirch’s eyes widen again when I said my name. “Have we met before, sir?”

  “No, I don’t believe so, but I did know your father,” Herr Strohkirch answered. “I have wanted to meet you for a very long time.” He looked at me closely. “Oh my, you resemble your mother.” He gestured to one of the park benches by the pool. “Please sit down with us here.”

  A sudden chill ran up my spine. Who really was this man who knew my name and was so eager to meet me?

  Then I knew—this was the watcher from the woods.

  16

  Herr Konrad Strohkirch

  The sun was sinking rapidly behind the trees as I studied the elderly man. Could this harmless-looking old man, Barret’s grandfather, be the fearful shadow I had seen among the trees? Heidi and Watcher sat at his feet, their tails wagging lazily as he stroked their heads.

  Nevertheless, if it was him, why had he lurked among the foliage, watching our house—watching me? I needed to know.

  “I can see you’re bewildered,” Herr Strohkirch said. “As I said, I am an old friend of your father’s.”

  Barret reached out and touched his grandfather’s arm. “Are we visible from the entrance?”

  “Ja. We must move farther back in the park,” Herr Strohkirch agreed. “In case Adrie—”

  “No. If you have something to say, please tell me now.” I would not be led back into the shadowy paths of the park with this stranger, no matter how kind he seemed. “I am not going anywhere with someone who stood in the bushes spying on our house.”

  “I am sorry if I frightened you,” Herr Strohkirch said. “You see, I heard you were coming to Berlin, but I needed to be sure.”

  “How did you know I was coming? Did Adrie notify you?”

  “No, not Adrie, but I was informed. Wendy, you have several people who care for you and are concerned about you.” Barret’s grandfather leaned back and his eyes searched mine. “I know, seeing you, that you are the young woman I’ve been waiting for—for many years, my child.” He paused and smiled. “You look so much like your mother, but you have your father’s blue eyes.”

  “My father had brown eyes.”

  “Oh, your father had eyes as blue as the sky,” Herr Strohkirch said with certainty.

  His gaze went to the ruby ring on my right hand. I warily pushed it into my pocket. Was my valuable ring the reason for this encounter?

  “Your father gave that ring to Adrie. It is a pigeon-blood ruby. This is even more proof that you are the one for whom I’ve waited to fulfill your father’s request.”

  “My father and I never knew each other.”

  “That is true. However, he wanted you to know him and he wanted to protect you. I promised him before he died that I would contact you when you were older and if you came back to your home in Germany—”

  “Opa, knowing the truth might put Wendy in danger,” Barret cut in.

  “I also promised her father to keep her safe,” Herr Strohkirch replied.

  The evening shadows were deepening, and I knew Adrie would be upset if I didn’t get back soon. “Why don’t both of you come to the house with me and you can speak with my mother? I’m sure she would be pleased to meet you, especially if you are a friend of my father’s.” I glanced at Barret, who looked uncomfortable as he patted his dog.

  Herr Strohkirch frowned. “Wendy, your mother would never let me see you. She would be angry if she knew we met.”

  I felt muddled. If Adrie was so cautious that I must not meet Herr Strohkirch, perhaps I shouldn’t stay and listen to what he had to tell me. Yet, at the same time, if Adrie did not want me to meet Herr Strohkirch, she would not want me to be friends with Barret, either. And I really liked Barret.

  “I must go,” I said, standing up. “Adrie will be furious if I don’t get home before dark.”

  “Yes, Adrie has a strong will,” Herr Strohkirch said. “Your father was the opposite—a kind, gentle man. He was not the man you think he was.”

  “Not the man I think? I don’t understand.”

  “Ach, mein Kind. This is not the time or place for you to grasp all I have to tell you. We need more time to talk. I must ask a favor, Wendy. Please do not mention our . . . er . . . coincidental . . . meeting to your mother. Keep this between us for now—for your father’s sake.”

  “I don’t like to keep things from Adrie.”

  “Please trust me. You have every right to know the things I have to tell you about your wonderful father—things that have been kept from you. I am sure Adrie has hidden away pieces of your background that are awaiting you in that house. Listen to your heart. Then, when you are ready, we will meet again.”

  I headed for the front gate, realizing the sun had set and the park was empty except for the three of us. “How can I get in touch with you, if I decide to hear what you have to say?”

  “I often walk to this park with my dog,” Barret said. “We will meet again . . . won’t we?”

  I felt my face redden. I wanted to meet Barret again. Besides, I did want to know more about my father. Still . . . I wasn’t sure.

  “When you are ready to hear what I have to say, you will find us, or we will find you,” Herr Strohkirch said. “Next time we are together, I will tell you all about your father. However, do not mention to Adrie—or to anyone—that you met me. If you do, you will never know the truth.”

  “I won’t tell anyone,” I promised.

  17

  Unhappy Sunday

  This had been a terrible, horrible Sunday morning. Adrie and I had our first real fight. I’m still angry every time I think about it.

  After breakfast I decided to look up Lebensborn in Adrie’s library. It was dark in the room, as the air-raid drapes were still drawn. As I went to open them, I grabbed the gold-tasseled cord and yanked it. This time, however, the drapes didn’t open. I turned on the desk light and tried to
see why the pull cords weren’t working.

  Had I broken something? I didn’t want Adrie to be angry with me. I turned on the overhead lights and saw a twist at the top of the curtain where the cord must have become tangled.

  I needed something to stand on so I could reach the top of the French doors and straighten the cord. I pulled the heavy desk chair to the door, but it caught on the Oriental rug. The chair was too heavy to lift, so I dragged it back and smoothed the carpet.

  Then I remembered Adrie saying there was a tall library ladder in the closet. Had she said it was broken? Or had she just said I shouldn’t use it to take books down from the top shelf? I couldn’t remember, but I didn’t want Adrie to discover I had pulled the drapery cord too hard or broken something on the pull cord, so I decided to try the ladder anyway.

  I found the ladder tucked away in the corner of the closet. I rolled it out into the room and examined it. It seemed to work fine. I found a knob that tightened the wheels so they’d lock while a person climbed or was searching for books. Perfect!

  At that exact moment Adrie entered the room. “What are you doing with that ladder? Didn’t I tell you it was broken and not to use it?”

  “But it’s not broken . . . look.” I tried to show her how well the wheels turned.

  Adrie’s voice was icy and her eyes narrowed. “I requested that you do not climb up to the top shelves of the bookcases. You are not to touch those books. That’s all I asked. But here you are, disobeying me.”

  I had never seen Adrie so mad. “I wasn’t going up to the bookshelves. I was trying to fix the drapery cord,” I explained. “I’m sorry, but I must have tangled the cord to open them. . . .” My voice cracked. “I was . . . trying to fix them before . . . you found out because I knew you’d be . . . mean . . . just the way you are being right now!” I ran out of the library before Adrie could see me cry.

  I heard footsteps behind me and hoped for a moment that they were Adrie’s. However, it was Watcher who followed me.

  I flew up the long winding stairway to my room, let my puppy in, and then closed the door. I threw myself onto the bed, and Watcher jumped up with me, whining, as if asking what was wrong. I put my arms around him and snuggled my face into his bristly fur. Why was Adrie so angry? Nothing bad happened. I didn’t fall. Besides, the ladder wasn’t broken. She lied to me. Why?

  After a few minutes I lay on my back and looked up at the ceiling. “Adrie breaks my heart when she’s like this,” I told Watcher. “She’s more than mean; she’s downright nasty! I should have stayed back in the States—back with Mom and Daddy. Only now I know they aren’t my mom and daddy, and since I’ve come here without calling them, they probably don’t love me either. I don’t have anyone anymore . . . except you, my sweet little dog.” I burst into tears again.

  Before long Adrie knocked on the door and peeked in. “Wendy?”

  I didn’t answer, and buried my face again in Watcher’s fur.

  “May I come in?”

  When I still didn’t answer, Adrie entered and sat on the side of the bed. “Wendy, I’m sorry I responded as I did. Can you forgive me?”

  I wasn’t sure I could forgive her. I was too upset and I wanted to go home.

  Adrie continued. “It’s no excuse, I know, but I have problems that I need to solve and they’re on my mind. I shouldn’t have taken them out on you.”

  I wanted to say, That’s right, you shouldn’t. Instead I just nodded and sniffled. Watcher snuggled his head into my neck and licked my tears.

  Adrie went on, and she did sound remorseful. “I overreacted when I saw you with the ladder. It’s just that . . . um . . . I thought for sure you’d probably fall, and maybe break your leg. I’m not good at being a mother.” She touched my shoulder.

  I was still angry, so I pulled away. After a moment I asked her, “Did you know I used to wish you really were my mother? I was so happy when you visited me. I wanted to be with you forever, and I always felt so sad when you left me.” I sat up and wiped my eyes on my sleeve. “That’s why I didn’t want to disappoint you when that drapery cord wouldn’t work.”

  “Then we’re both sorry and we’ll both be fine, right?” Adrie asked with a pleading smile.

  “I . . . guess so. I hate it when you scream at me. Mommy—I mean, Aunt Nixie—never screamed at me.”

  “Did I scream?”

  “Well . . . pretty close. Your voice was icy, and you looked like you hated me.”

  “Well, I don’t hate you. I’d never hate you.”

  “Adrie, why did you send me away to live in America when I was a baby?”

  “Oh, it’s hard to explain. But, shortly before you were born, Germany was in the midst of a depression. The armistice at Versailles after the Great War crippled this country. Why, Germany was required to pay for the entire war! There was no money, no jobs, and no hope. Germans were not allowed to fly or build planes or have an army large enough to protect ourselves. So we decided to have you live with my sister, Nixie, in America until things got better here.”

  “You had me stay in New York for safety, right? Then why now, in the middle of this war, did you bring me here?”

  “Yes, we are at war.” Adrie nodded. “But now our Führer has made our country strong again. He brought us out of the depression by creating jobs, making highways, and building up the Wehrmacht—our armed forces.”

  Even with all Adrie’s explanations, I didn’t understand any of it. But I listened as Adrie went on and on.

  “We have the greatest scientists in the world. We will soon have rockets that fly themselves to wherever we want them to go.”

  Adrie’s voice rose and her eyes brightened as she continued. “It will be your generation and your children’s generation who will rule the next thousand years. I want you to be part of that great future our Führer has planned. And that is why I brought you home.” Adrie looked down at her hands. “I did it for you. You’ll thank me someday.”

  I didn’t know what to say so I just nodded.

  Adrie took a deep breath. “Now, there’s one thing I need to stress again. Do not climb up to those top shelves. The books up there are out-of-bounds for you. They are all in German and . . . nothing you’d be interested in. Do you understand?”

  “I wasn’t going for the books. I was trying to fix the cord. . . .”

  “I know, I know.” Adrie stood up and pulled me by my hand. “Let’s go down and fix that drapery cord together.”

  When Adrie, Watcher, and I reached the library, however, Frieda was already on the ladder, untangling the cord. We all laughed as Watcher tried to follow Frieda up the ladder, and then slipped to the floor.

  “You silly little dog.” I gathered him into my lap. He looked up at me remorsefully and then licked my face. “I love you to pieces,” I told him.

  When I looked up, I could see Adrie watching us, and I wondered what she was thinking.

  You have never told me you love me, I wanted to say.

  18

  Three Wise Monkeys

  Adrie and Frieda surprised me with a party for my fifteenth birthday. Of course it was just Adrie, Frieda, and me—who else did I know who would attend my party? If I were back in Maine, I’d have a real party with Jill—my best friend there, the one who stood by me. And I’d invite Quarry—the boy who lived in the lighthouse. Mom and Daddy would drive up from New York. I wondered what Mom and Daddy were doing today. They were sad, I was sure.

  Frieda made a beautiful German chocolate cake, and we ate dinner in the dining room. I was also allowed a small glass of wine. Adrie presented me with a gold charm bracelet. It had three gold monkeys hanging from its links.

  “Oh, Adrie, you remembered how I fell in love with Jill’s bracelet. And now I have one too.” I held out my hand, and Adrie fastened the bracelet on my wrist.

  “Yes, I do remember. Her father—that singer—sent it to her while he was on tour, as I recall.”

  “Her dad is famous! He’s on the radio all the time i
n the States,” I reminded her. “But her bracelet was silver, not gold—and it didn’t have ruby eyes like these monkeys do.”

  “I thought the ruby eyes would match your ring. And rubies are your birthstone.”

  “You always think of everything. Thank you, Adrie.”

  “Each of these wise monkeys has a lesson to teach.” Adrie took my hand and pointed to the first monkey. “This one has his hands over his eyes. That means ‘see no evil.’ The second has his hands over his ears—‘hear no evil.’ And the third has his hands over his mouth—see? This advises you to speak no evil.” She looked at me with raised eyebrows. “What do you think they are telling you?”

  I was silent as I thought about this. Then I answered, “I shouldn’t believe everything I hear—or speak about it. And if I see something that is ugly or cruel—I must close my eyes to it.”

  “Ja. Gut! The monkeys warn you that thinking, speaking, or dwelling on negative things—or things you don’t understand—can harm you.” Adrie patted my hand and stood up. “That is the best advice I can give you.”

  The following few weeks flew by quickly, and it was near the end of August before I realized it. I went to the park several times, determined to meet with Barret and his grandfather again, but they were never there when I was. I began to wonder if I had dreamed the whole incident of that day in the park.

  Meanwhile, I was enjoying my work with the children at Lebensborn. Once, Dr. Ernst had come in with her daughter, Gertrude—along with Gertrude’s sidekick, Rikka. I’d avoided them, thanks to Johanna, who hid me in a closet on the third floor. We laughed after they left, feeling satisfied to have outwitted the two wicked stepsisters, as we called them in English (between ourselves).

  I loved Johanna. We shared lunchtime together, which was when she helped me to speak German. I found her to be sweet, fun, a caring worker, and soon the dearest friend I ever had anywhere.

  When I showed her my bracelet and what it stood for, she was quiet and thoughtful. Then she said, “Do you think that advice—see no evil or hear no evil—is always correct? Sometimes aren’t we responsible to open our eyes and see the wickedness and evil in the world and then speak up about it?”