The Diplomat’s Daughter Page 19

  “I know Oshima has been maneuvering for the position for years, but perhaps Shigenori and Edita wanted to leave,” said her father solemnly. “I would not want to keep my Jewish wife in Berlin at such a time.”

  “Vienna will become just as bad as Berlin,” said Emi. “I can feel it.”

  “Which is why you must leave the Hartmanns alone,” said her father sternly. “Let them focus on how to escape Vienna safely. I mean it, Emiko.”

  Emi nodded respectfully and turned to leave the room. She was definitely not going to heed her father’s order.

  When she returned to school after Kristallnacht, Emi expected other students to be as shaken as she was, but life went on as usual. If anything, many seemed more animated, displaying an enthusiasm that matched the chaos roiling the city. Emi was alone in her solemnity and fear.

  On the first Friday after the terror in Vienna, Emi made her way slowly to the school’s music room after classes were over, dragging her hand along the wall, imagining Leo’s hand at the end of it reaching out for hers. Instead, she heard footsteps behind her and turned to see one of her classmates trying to catch up with her. A tall, heavyset girl with fine blond hair always parted straight down the center, Kersten had once seemed eager to be friends with Emi, but this afternoon she had a grimace on her face. As she approached her, she cut in front of her so that Emi almost tripped trying not to crash into her.

  “Watch where you’re going!” said Kersten, laughing.

  Emi looked at her, and immediately saw the pins on her shirt. Kersten was part of the Hitlerjugend. Before the Anschluss, there were members of the Jugend at her school, but it was mostly an underground operation. Now it was the only youth group that the government allowed and Kersten, it seemed, had jumped into service immediately.

  Emi had never felt a pull toward Kersten, even when Kersten had been very friendly to Emi when she first arrived. Her father, she knew, was one of the city’s most prominent doctors, but he had also been active in the Christian Social Party, one of Austria’s most right-wing political factions. Kersten was often repeating his rhetoric, especially the criticism of the heavily Jewish Social Democrat Party, which Emi knew Leo’s father had been a member of.

  Emi wasn’t surprised at all that Kersten was one of the first girls at school to wear the Hitlerjugend insignia on her uniform.

  “You better apologize to me,” said Kersten, her hand on her shoulder, feigning pain. Her hair was in two braids, one on each side with the bottoms rolled intricately together. Other than her too-thick build and her scowl, she looked like the perfect image of Aryan youth.

  Emi righted herself and said, “I’m trying to go practice in the music room. Can you move, please?”

  “And my apology?” said Kersten, her foot in front of Emi.

  “You certainly won’t get one from me,” said Emi, speaking to Kersten’s pins rather than her face.

  Letting the apology drop momentarily, Kersten said, “You’re going to practice all alone without that Jew? Can you even play without him anymore?”

  “Leo Hartmann,” said Emi, trying to move around Kersten. “Of course I can.”

  “You shouldn’t see him again,” said Kersten, still blocking her way. She spread her feet wider so Emi could not get around her and leaned in closer to her nervous face. “In case you were thinking about it. It’s too dangerous now.”

  “I know,” said Emi, standing still. “My father said the same thing.”

  “And he’s right.” Kersten flashed Emi a disingenuous smile and said, “I’m just warning you because we’re such good friends, and I think as a foreigner you don’t understand what is happening in this country. I just want to help keep you safe.”

  “Don’t understand?” echoed Emi. “I don’t think you have to be Austrian to understand what Adolf Hitler is doing. And Kersten,” she said, taking a bold step toward her, “we are not such good friends. Especially not now,” she said, pointing to the swastika patch on her arm.

  Kersten shook her head. “Everyone our age of Aryan descent has to join now. It’s an honor. You do not understand the good that’s happening in Vienna because of Hitler, not like an Austrian does. If you did, you would never have gotten caught up with Leo Hartmann in the first place. You wouldn’t have been seen around Vienna kissing him. You don’t understand Austria and all we’ve suffered at their hands. So you went and ripped your clothes off with some dirty Jew. Do you want to end up with Jew babies at a time like this?”

  “What?” asked Emi, teetering on her heels, feeling faint. “You have no idea what I did or didn’t do with Leo.”

  “Oh, Emi, please. Don’t play chaste now. We all know. But you should know that it’s illegal for you to be with a Jew,” said Kersten, ignoring Emi’s disgusted face.

  “Why would it be illegal for me to be with a Jew? I’m not Christian. I’m not even Austrian.”

  “Because it’s disgusting! Against nature. Like making love to a dog,” Kersten exclaimed. “See, like I said, you have no idea what you’re doing. You made a big mistake, and now the whole school knows you as the Jew lover. You better start going out with another boy soon so you can try to save your reputation. Everyone wanted to be your friend at first, but you ruined it when you ran off with Leo Hartmann day after day.” She took a few steps toward Emi. “But that’s all over since this school is rid of him. Now you can fix your Jew-lover problem.”

  “I’ll be leaving the school next year,” said Emi. “So you can all remember me by whatever name you want. Go ahead, yell ‘Jew lover’ in my face. I don’t care.” She sidestepped around Kersten and rushed toward the music room, but Kersten yelled back at her before she could make it around the corner and out of earshot.

  “He’s going to die!” she shouted. “Leo Hartmann is going to die. He has the red J stamped in his passport now and my mother says that’s the kiss of death. And no one will care but you.”

  Emi looked over her shoulder and said, “Thank you for your concern, but you have no idea who is going to die. You are not God.”

  “No, I’m not,” said Kersten. “But you don’t have to be God to know that all the Jews in Austria will die. Don’t you listen to the radio? Jews have finally bitten off their own big noses. After all these years of taking our jobs and our money, they’ve written their own fate with their greed. Now Hitler has decreed that the Jew must go and no one wants to stop Hitler.”

  She paused and looked at Emi, tilting her head. “I take it back. Leo Hartmann will die and no one will care, not even you, because you’ll be back in Japan.”

  Emi and her family were due to sail back to Japan in March 1939, four months off. She stared at Kersten and shook her head no.

  “At least you were able to play their piano,” said Kersten. “Though don’t feel so special because I’ve played it, too. We all used to go to his house when we were like you. When we didn’t understand the plague of the Jew.”

  Emi thought she saw Kersten hesitate, perhaps reminded of a good memory from her time at the Hartmanns’, but the moment quickly passed. Kersten scowled and continued. “Too bad you’re leaving so soon, Emi. If you waited long enough you’d be able to have their piano for yourself. You do play it so well. Everyone will take from the Jews when they’re dead. With all their money, the Hartmanns’ house will probably be first on the looting list. That beautiful house will be stripped bare.”

  Emi blinked back her tears and shouted, “Leo Hartmann is not going to die!”

  “He is, Emi,” said Kersten, softly. “They’re all going to.”

  Kersten left Emi standing in the hall, her tears running down her face onto her blouse. She wiped her eyes and glanced at a clock hanging in the classroom next to her. The music room was just a few steps away, but her amah was not due to meet her at the school for two more hours, after Emi’s practice was over. Instead of going into the music room, Emi took the shortcut out through the chapel that Leo had shown her on her first day and ran all the way to the Hartmanns’ house
.

  As she turned the corner onto their street, trying not to trip over her own feet, she could see that there was still black paint all over the right side of the façade’s ground floor. This time “Alle Juden müssen sterben” was scrawled in thick letters over layers of painted-over words. All Jews must die.

  Emi put her hands over the letters, only able to cover the word sterben, “die,” and closed her eyes. Before anyone could confront her, she wiped her hands on her skirt, as the paint was still wet, and knocked on the Hartmanns’ door. After a minute of waiting and no answer, she started to shout Leo’s name.

  “Get away from that dirty Jew door,” a woman scolded as she passed, hitting Emi’s back, but she did not stop and Emi pounded on the door again. After several minutes, Zalan, the Hungarian chauffeur, finally opened the door, his hand with four fingers held behind his back. He was not in uniform.

  “You’re not supposed to come in,” he told her, his dark eyes looking at her with suspicion. “Mr. Hartmann’s order.” Emi was about to protest when he said, “But I told them you wouldn’t go away, so here I am. You have five minutes, and then I will drive you home. Not the same car. Horrible little car, but safer. Go,” he said, holding the door open wide enough to let Emi in, then slamming it shut behind her and locking it.

  Emi thanked him, clasping her thin hands together, and ran up the stairs to where Leo was waiting in the dark hallway. Every curtain in the house had been pulled closed, and only a few electric lights were on.

  “You shouldn’t have come,” he said, wrapping her in his arms. “But I’m so happy you did.”

  “Five minutes,” said Hani Hartmann, coming into the hallway, too. “I mean it. It’s too dangerous for you here, Emi,” she said, but she stopped and embraced her before hurrying into another room and closing the door.

  “You can’t stay here,” Emi said, sobbing once she and Leo were alone again. “They’ll kill you.”

  “We’re not going to stay,” said Leo, holding her shoulders, looking at her. “We have visas to enter Switzerland. The border is going to become much more difficult for Jews to cross, so we have to go soon. My parents are preparing everything now.”

  “But how will you get there?” asked Emi, trying to calm herself. “How did you obtain Swiss visas?”

  “We paid for them, probably ten times what everyone else paid, which is why we already have them. Money will help us escape now, but they say that it won’t help for long. Switzerland already doesn’t want Jews. But they do want money. If we don’t leave in the next few days, then we might not ever leave. And if we can’t leave Austria—”

  “Don’t say it, Froschi!” she said, putting her hand on his mouth. “Don’t ever say it.”

  “Okay,” he said, kissing the inside of her palm. She moved it to his cheek and he whispered, “I won’t say it.”

  Emi, her hand still on Leo, looked around her at the paintings on the wall. “What will you do with your house? With all these beautiful things?”

  “We hope they can be shipped to us when we have a place to ship them to. Right now, we are hiding the best of them with friends. There are still friends, Christians, who will help us. Former employees at the factory who have known us for many years. But I don’t know if any of our property will make it through all this. We have to be prepared for it to disappear. It’s funny, I don’t think any of us care about such things anymore. It’s strange to me now, that my father spent so much time amassing art and furniture and everything. What for?”

  “Because it’s so beautiful,” said Emi. “It’s not wrong that he did.”

  “Isn’t it?” said Leo. “It feels very small-minded.”

  “No,” said Emi. “He was focused on being alive, and now when the focus is staying alive, priorities change.”

  “Staying alive. I wonder if we will all make it through this.”

  “Froschi,” she said, her voice strained and tired. “Please don’t say that, please.”

  Leo was about to reply when the carved oak door of Max Hartmann’s study opened and he and Hani walked out together.

  “Oh Emi,” said Max, coming over to her. “I said not to come. You should not have taken the risk.”

  “I had to,” she said. “I’m sorry.”

  “You are too brave right now,” said Max, his eyes bloodshot, his face still heavily bruised, the bags under his eyes dark. “But it’s not the time to be brave, it’s the time to be safe. We will see you again, but now, you have to go. Please.” He put his hand on her head and said, “May God keep you safe.” He recited several lines of the Tefilat Ha’derekh, the Traveler’s Prayer, explained what it said, and kissed her on the cheek.

  “But I will see you again,” said Emi. “Before you leave for Switzerland. I must.”

  “It’s not possible anymore,” said Hani, putting her arm around Emi’s shoulder to comfort her. “We have to say our goodbyes. But we will call them ‘when we meet agains’ instead of goodbyes.”

  Max and Hani took her by the hands and then left the room. She was alone with Leo.

  “I will see you before you leave, despite your parents’ wishes,” she said, leaning against him. “I’ll come here tomorrow. I don’t care what happens. This can’t be the last time I see you before you go.”

  “It has to be. If anything were to happen to you, and it was my fault—”

  “But none of this is your fault!” she said. “You are the persecuted. The rest of this country, they have gone crazy with hate. They are the animals.”

  “It’s the last time in this house in Austria,” said Leo. “But I will see you again soon. Of course I will. That alone will be enough to keep me alive. Please don’t worry. I know we will end up together in the end. Froschi and Emi,” he said, smiling confidently. “Always.”

  “How can I do anything but worry?” said Emi. “Promise me we will see each other again soon. Look at me and say ‘I promise.’ ”

  “I promise,” said Leo. “I promise.” He kissed Emi and she held on to him until he whispered that she had to go.

  “I don’t want Zalan to take you back,” he said. “I think it will be more dangerous for you in a Hartmann’s car than on foot. Even the little car.”

  “I’ll walk,” said Emi. “You’re right, it’s safer. Tell your parents that I love them.” She wiped her eyes, threw her arms around Leo, and said, “And you. I love you the most.”

  “I love you, too,” said Leo. “Together forever. But with a slight, unplanned intermission in between forever.” He kissed her and let her go.

  Scared that if she touched him again she would never be able to leave, she hurried out their back door, happy that the glass was covered in intricate bars of iron. She looked at her watch. Her amah was going to be at the school in five minutes and Emi, on foot, would not be able to beat her there.

  She hurried around to the front of the house and was about to start running toward the Ringstrasse when she heard someone scream her name.

  Down the street, a tall blond girl was looking her way.

  “That’s her! There!” the girl shouted. She had changed out of her school uniform, but it was Kersten.

  Emi turned in the other direction out of instinct, but not before glimpsing three boys from their school behind Kersten. As soon as they saw her lock eyes on them, they all began sprinting toward her.

  Adrenaline pumping, Emi ran as fast as she could, turning a corner to the back of the Hartmanns’ house again, but despite her speed, the boys reached her before she made it to the door.

  She felt two grab her arms, and she screamed as one of them put his free hand over her mouth. They pulled her against the Hartmanns’ house and then turned her around to face Kersten when she caught up. Emi was being held so tightly that she could only move her head and feet, so Kersten slowed down and sauntered up to her. She put out her hand, touched Emi at the top of her cheek, and ran her fingers slowly down her face.

  “It would be so much easier for you if you listened to me
,” she said in a pitying tone. “I told you it was illegal to be with Jews. I told you it was dangerous to see Leo Hartmann again. But what did you do but take off straight here after school. I saw you leave through the chapel,” she said. “Didn’t you think someone might be watching you? And know exactly where you were going?”

  “No,” said Emi, her shoulders burning from her arms being pulled back behind her. “I was sure you had something better to do with your time than run after me.”

  “Oh, I didn’t have to run,” said Kersten. “I knew you would be up there for hours, crying over Leo and his rich Jew parents. But I timed it perfectly. Just as we turned on his street, you came out, looking this way and that like a panicked little mouse.”

  “We heard all about you and Hartmann,” said the boy who was bending her left arm. Emi recognized him as Erich Böhm. He was in the class below hers and blond as a field of wheat. “If you’re so ready to be with the Jews, then your legs should open up very easily for us.” Erich laughed and thrust his pelvis against her. He told his friend to take both her arms and stepped in front of her. He unbuttoned her coat, pushing it off her shoulders and letting it dangle on the ground. Her schoolbag fell with it and he yanked it off her, letting go of her for only a second, and kicked it into the street, where a taxi immediately ran it over. It bounced once from the movement of the cab, then lay in the middle of the street, like a flattened animal. Emi tried to lunge for it, but the boys holding her were far too strong.

  “What? All of a sudden you don’t like male company?” said the third boy, laughing. “That’s not your reputation. I’ve heard you’ve taken it more than once.” He bent back her arm even more unnaturally and Erich started unbuttoning her blouse, pulling at the pearl buttons until they were all undone. He moved it back onto her shoulders so that Emi’s chest in her thin slip was bare in the nearly freezing weather. Then he ripped open her slip and bra, so that her body was exposed in the street. Emi screamed, trying to grab her breasts, but her arms were being held back too tightly.