Nocturnes
to the heavy rhythms of Germany and Hitler.
    Karl had gotten a little drunk, and was speaking with too much fervor, too much false bravado, as though he would rally all of Poland to his words.
    “Hitler’s eyes rattle around in his head like the roulette balls at the casino. Where will they land? Italy? Austria…Poland? Not Poland, my friends. Poland will fight! But Austria will roll over like a kicked dog. That is where the little madman will go to expand his beloved Bavaria.”
    “Poland may well put up some resistance. But it won’t be for or about you, dear Karl.” Patrik joined in after not saying two words to anyone except Judith all night. “You are not a Pol to the Pols. You are a bargaining chip. To be used if the madman becomes bored with the stakes and wants to play a different kind of game.”
    Karl’s eyes shifted nervously about the group, seeking some support. Patrik was the understated voice of brutal truth, and Karl still preferred the comfort of lies.
    “Game? You speak of games. But I am a Pol. My family helped build this city. We are, all of us, Pols together. And we will stand shoulder to shoulder against Hitler’s ambitions.”
    Patrik stood and gathered his things and the hand of Judith, then looked at Karl as he passed from the group. “You are a Jew, Karl. You will believe what you must so that you can sleep at night. But don’t sleep too soundly, brother. The wolves are on the prowl.”
    Patrick and Judith departed as Karl turned his pleas on the remaining clique. Lessa grabbed at Isaac’s arm, layers of panic in her eyes.
    “Take me home, Isaac. I’ve heard all of this over and over again. It’s everywhere we go.”
    Isaac had seen this fear in her before. He knew better than to try to assuage it in the middle of someone else’s discourse on the subject. He rounded up their things and they slipped out, unnoticed by all except Josef.
    He put his arms around her as they walked away from the crowds and the noise. As he had so often in the recent past, he set about the task of comforting her against her dismay.
    “It is all a bunch of gossip and empty talk, Lessa. No one takes Hitler as seriously as they pretend to. He makes for great conversation, but he isn’t a monster.”
    “I fear that is exactly what he is. He is the entire topic of discussion at the university. His speeches are passed around and read aloud in the halls. He even has supporters right here in Warsaw. His speeches scare me, Isaac. I want to leave Warsaw. I want us to go from here together. There is a darkness gathering that the human race has not yet imagined.”
    “Lessa! You have allowed nightmares into your head that have no basis in fact. Besides, where would we go? Our families, our friends, and our work are all here. This has been the home of our families for generations. It makes no sense to run from someone’s words.”
    “It does if those words are applauded by an entire nation.” She stopped and turned to face him squarely. “He has his country believing in the things he says. He could tell them that the moon was green and they would listen. He has revived their national pride and honor at the expense of several scapegoats, including our own people. And he has the army and industrial base to go wherever and whenever he wants. He terrifies me. I have the most horrible dreams.”
    He put his arms around her again, drew her close, and once more felt the tension leave her. Somewhere up the street a lonely violin was weeping Albinoni’s Adagio, and they began to move together, slowly. Few people passed them at this hour, and he waltzed her up the street to her father’s house. She was calm again, and smiling.
    “Love finds its courage in the shadows and shade,” he reminded her. “Sing yourself to sleep, my beauty. My candle is burning for you. I will see you in the morning.”
    He kissed her hungrily and felt her body sigh.
    “Goodnight, Isaac,” she murmured into his mouth.
    “Goodnight,
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