“A friend’s cousin is putting me up.”
Clara’s gaze bored into him, and then she sighed. “They got you too?”
“Who?”
“You’re with one of those Veronikas, then,” she said with bite. Ozzie had heard the German women with Negro soldiers called many things. Veronika was a new one. But it wasn’t hard to ascertain what Clara meant by the way her shoulders slumped. She was clearly disappointed in Ozzie for playing on the other side.
“She’s a friend,” he said hoarsely, not sure why he felt the need to explain to her.
“You know what’s funny?” Clara squinted at him, her eyes now slightly red. “White men want white women. Negro men want white women. Black women are left out here to navigate on our own. In the slight chance that a white man does look my way, it’s with lust. Or it’s to get me a-scrubbing and a-cooking,” she said flatly.
“Clara,” he started, but she cut him off.
“I’m not asking for your pity, Ozzie. Just telling it like it is.”
Her words dug deep into his skin. He had never thought about Clara or any of the Negro woman stationed in Germany and what itwas like for them here. Ozzie searched for words to comfort her, but Clara stood with her navy coat in her arms. Ozzie reached for it and then held it open so she could slip into it. He fluffed her hair for her around her collar, then he reached for her right hand and brought it to his mouth for a short kiss.
“If you find yourself in Mannheim, I’m at Sullivan.”
“Be careful, Ozzie. Not everyone out here can be trusted. Not even the chick you’re with.”
When Ozzie opened the apartment’s door, Jelka was sitting on the floor between the sofa and armchair, rolled in the fetal position and shaking like a reed in a storm.
“Babe, what’s wrong?” He squatted before her. Jelka kept rocking back and forth, muttering something in German that he could not understand.
“Jelka.” He took hold of her shoulders. “Tell me what happened.”
“What took you so long?” Her face was streaked with running mascara.
“I ran into an old friend.”
“I thought they took you.”
“Who?”
“They kill everyone.” Her voice was shrill, and her eyes were wild and frantic.
“I’m right here.”
“Men leave and they do not return.” She cried harder.
It was the same thing Rita had said to him when she broke up with him, and his stomach sank. Ozzie took the edge of his sleeve and wiped her face. “Talk to me.”
Jelka was quiet, rocking back and forth. “My brothers. I have lost two. They left for the war and never returned.”
Ozzie hadn’t known. He reached for her hands.
Jelka allowed Ozzie to help her to the sofa.
“When you didn’t come back, it was like it was happening to me all over again.”
Ozzie pulled her to his chest and shushed her. “You don’t have to worry about me. I will always come back.” He looked up at the ceiling and frowned. His words felt untrue.
CHAPTER 15West Oak Forest Academy, October 1965
SOPHIA
It had been raining hard for two straight days. The campus’s grass was soggy, and the pathways were lined with pockets of puddles. The students, though teenagers, pulled on colorful galoshes and happily splashed each other with water. Sophia, who had only her Mary Janes, miserably tramped through campus with damp water sloshing between her toes. The rain had fallen in such a relentless downpour that the roof leaked in the girls’ gym and the janitors had to rotate buckets to keep the parquet floors from being damaged.
