"What other way are we allowed to think?" I asked him. It was a rhetorical question because I knew the answer.
A server greeted us and took our simple orders. All the while, I noticed Claude was not able to look me in the eyes. Something was wrong, more so than what we had been watching in the ghetto camp.
"You are keeping something from me," I told him, waiting for his gaze to lift from the battered chestnut table where he drummed his fingertips.
"Brother, I received a letter from Annika last night." Annika was good at writing Claude letters. She kept him in the loop of what was happening with their family and in our hometown of Lindau.
"How is everyone—everything?" I asked, assuming there was terrible news brewing.
Claude shook his head, and his blue eyes lifted from his downward stare. "Your papa—he's ill, Charlie. Very ill."
A lump formed in my throat, and my neck became stiff. I had received a letter two weeks ago from them, and everything sounded well and fine at home. However, my letters to them had been scarce and most without much detail because I didn't want to concern them. Now, I'm wondering if they were doing the same with me. "What is the matter with him?" I managed to choke out.
"Annika admitted him to the hospital last week. He was having trouble breathing. She believes he has influenza. I'm not sure of his current condition. According to the date on the postmark, Annika sent the letter almost a week ago."
"I must leave," I told Claude without thinking about if that was even possible.
"How?" Claude asked.
"I'll request leave. I have to get home." I knew it could have already been too late. Papa could have died, but if there was a chance he was still alive, I needed to be with him. Influenza was sweeping through the nation and killing thousands. The odds were not in his favor.
"Maybe there's an officer in the administration building, ja?" Claude suggested.
Our food arrived while I was planning a way home. I had enough money to take the train, and it would be the fastest form of transportation. I could make it home by morning.
I ate my ordered schnitzel in less than a few bites, forcing the food down my throat. Poor Mama must have been a wreck.
"I'll walk you to the administration building. I'll help in any way I can," Claude offered.
"Danke."
"Charlie," Claude said as I stood from my seat. He placed his hand on my arm. "I'm sorry."
I bit the inside of my cheek, feeling pain surface from every inch of my body. This war had kept me from my family, from following in Papa's footsteps, and from taking care of Mama while he worked.Damn this war, I thought.
Luck shouldn't have been on my side. I didn't deserve any luck after what I had been participating in day in and day out, but there was a Gruppenführer working late in the administration office, and he granted me temporary leave.
I even managed to snag a train ticket just minutes before departure. I thought God wanted me to be with Papa, but I was having trouble believing in God then. God wouldn't have wanted all those prisoners murdered daily.
"Send my best to your folks," Claude said. He reached forward and gave me a quick hug. "Stay strong, Charlie. Let me know when you're back."
It was six in the morning when I arrived home in Bavaria, and it was seven before I made it to the hospital where I hoped to find Papa. I waited at the Admissions desk for someone to assist me. The hospital was packed. People were coughing, and it was the only sound I could focus on, even when a young woman asked if she could help me.
When I noticed her voice, I turned and found a familiar face among the sick. "Charlie Crane?"
Shoulder-length curled blonde hair, bright indigo eyes, and a smile that matched Claude's. Annika was not very likable in our earlier days, but age and war will soften a person, and whatever she had gone through these last few years had changed the girl she once was. Annika dropped her clipboard and ran around the side of the desk she stood behind. A nurse's uniform looked right on her; it was where she was meant to be and where she wanted to be. She threw her arms around my neck as if we were once as close as Claude and I are. "How are you?" She pushed me away, looking me up and down, maybe checking to see if I was still in one piece. Of course, there wasn't much of a reason to be concerned since I was on the side of the war that was causing the damage.
"I'm worried," I told her. "Claude told me about your letter."
"I didn't know how else to find Claude. You boys are never around much, are you?"
"We're on the move a lot," I confirmed.
Annika placed her hand on my back, leading me down the adjacent hall, which felt promising. I hoped it meant Papa was still alive.
"Charlie, your papa isn't well. I'm afraid he doesn't have much time. Influenza spread to his lungs quickly," she said, still pushing us forward as if we were running out of time.
Before we walked into a small room, Annika handed me a medical mask. "Place this over your nose and mouth for protection."
