Legacy of Silence Read Online Free PDF Page B

shapeless vacancy, a stepping off from a precipice into empty air.
    Minutes passed. Then, gradually, the thought that Lore was in the next bedroom began to have a quieting effect. In a way, Caroline had resented her parents’ insistence, and also Walter’s, that Lore and she leave together. To have need of Lore had seemed to be a reflection upon her own abilities. Yet, remembering now the emotional scene at the railway station in Berlin, she saw how much more emotional it would have been if she had ridden away alone, ifalone she had strained for the last look at Father and Walter waving their hats and Mama waving a yellow handkerchief.
    Walter, who had analyzed Lore surprisingly well, had named her “the stabilizer,” which indeed she had been. She had quieted Mama’s fearful premonition that this parting might be a permanent one, and so had turned the packing of trunks from tragedy into adventure.
    The white spring night outside shone now on the enormous bulk of the new trunk. They had bought probably the largest one that was manufactured and had crammed it full.
    “Take everything you own that’s wearable and useful,” Father said. “Don’t waste space on party clothes. Maybe a few nice summer dresses for your stay at the Schmidts’ and for Walter’s Switzerland visit,” he had added with his most knowing smile.
    Clothing and a few photographs were to be the only remnants of the old home and the old life.
    “Books you can buy, if all goes well,” said Mama, and most astonishingly for her of all people, had added, “Books are not a necessity. Clothes are.”
    So her precious books, from childhood fairy tales to the histories and the classics, were left behind. More painful by far was the parting from Peter. Lore had found a home for him.
    “One of my patients has a poodle she adores, but he’s quite old. Peter will be a new companion for him and for the family.”
    Tonight was the first night in three years that he had not slept next to Caroline’s feet, and she wondered now how he was sleeping. Walter had understood.
    “As soon as we set up our house, we will buy a poodle and call him Peter,” he said.
    He understood everything. He was rare. She knew that to many older people her admiration of him would be dismissed affectionately as “infatuation.” But practical as she was—although her family didn’t see her that way—she had recently made a list of the qualities she needed in a husband. Measuring Walter against the list, she had quite honestly discerned only one slight flaw. Perhaps he did not have any sense of humor? But then, she was herself neither amusing nor witty. And then again, was there any reason for anyone to find humor in the world right now?
    Yes, they were perfect for each other. They were very young, and life was long. And he would be with her in a few weeks.… Thinking so, she fell asleep.
    T HE clang of ancient church bells woke her, so that for an instant there woke, too, a memory of the holidays they used to spend in mountain villages long ago when it was still possible to have such holidays. From the hall came voices, Lore’s and Mrs. Schmidt’s; they were saying something about the weather, which was apparently marvelous, and something about Caroline, who had slept late. Lore’sbrisk, familiar tone was encouraging, and determined to be equally spirited, she got up to dress, fastened her hair back with a bow, and went downstairs.
    Dr. Schmidt was at the table having, as he explained, his second breakfast, a Sunday luxury before church. He must be about Father’s age, she thought. Although with his ruddy face and mustache he did not resemble Father, there was an undeniable “doctor” quality about him. Asked to explain what that meant, she would have been unable to describe the quality; it was simply there.
    “You slept well, young lady. I can tell by your eyes,” he said cheerfully.
    Mrs. Schmidt, who definitely did not remind Caroline of Mama, unfastened the apron