Springtime of the Spirit Read Online Free PDF Page A

you,” Frau Düray said softly in contrast to her husband’s gruffness, “we knew you were one to watch with pride. We were convinced you would bring honor to our town by your service to Germany. Because you’re an honorable man, much as your father was.”
    Her words sharpened his ache for family and he found himself glancing again at the portrait above. Such a fitting example of the family unit, each one touching another. Herr Düray’s hand covered his wife’s; each daughter had a hand on the shoulder of the parent in front of them. Connected, cohesive. He wanted to say indestructible, separated only by the death that had taken Giselle away, but wouldn’t remind them of their loss again.
    “We plan to retool the factory, of course,” Herr Düray was saying. “Back to metalworks for everyone’s use. Pots, pans, tools. Useful, important items. It won’t be long before the factory is outfitted for peacetime again. Plenty of jobs for soldiers like you. New management, new product.”
    Frau Düray spared a quick glance in her husband’s direction before continuing. “But in the present time, while the factory is being refitted, as my husband says, you’ll be having some time on your hands, won’t you, Christophe?”
    He set down his cup, eyeing not Frau Düray but her husband, who seemed to be growing agitated, judging by the look on his face. A sort of detachment had developed, as if his mind were elsewhere, in a place he didn’t want to be.
    “So you invited me here to offer a job, Herr Düray?”
    “They hate us, you know,” Herr Düray said without looking at either his wife or Christophe now. “It’s why we’ve had to hire the guard and bring in the dogs. I cannot even enter my own home without fearing one of the dogs will attack me. How should they know they owe me for their meals? that I provide them their shelter?”
    “My dear, please . . . let us come to the point.” Frau Düray glanced at her husband again and Christophe sensed she was in a race with Herr Düray’s hold on dignity. “Christophe, the reason we invited you here today was to offer you a job, as you’ve guessed, but perhaps not the kind you’re thinking.”
    “What sort of job?” Even he heard the skepticism behind his question.
    “I wonder if you might consider going to Munich for us? That’s where our daughter is, you see. We wonder if you might be able to bring Annaliese home to us. The city is so dangerous these days, you know. Between the sicknesses and the street violence the papers talk about. It’s no place for her, and we worry so. . . .”
    “Annaliese?” His gaze went to the portrait again. “She is in Munich?”
    “Yes! She refuses to send word to us, even to tell us she’s all right.”
    “Do you think she’s come to harm?”
    “We pray every day for her safety. But truth is, we don’t know.”
    “I came through several cities on my way home, Frau Düray.” He wouldn’t tell her all the details—he didn’t like thinking of them himself—but he could tell her the best of what he’d seen and leave out the worst. “People are celebrating the end of the war. Perhaps she is caught up in the busy city life.”
    “But she must come home, Christophe. To her family!”
    “If she doesn’t want to, how do you suppose I should persuade her? Is she of a majority age? able to make her own decisions?”
    Frau Düray reached out a hand for one of his. The look on her face held such despair he couldn’t help but take hold. “Christophe, she’s the only child left to us and not even eighteen. The truth is, we plan to follow the path your dear sister has taken, to America. We cannot stay—but we cannot possibly leave her here alone. Will you fetch her and bring her home so we can convince her to come with us? We’ll be happy to compensate you generously.”
    Though she still clutched his hand, Christophe let his gaze leave her face for Herr Düray’s. Did he agree with the plan to leave Germany?