"Ja," I muttered.
"Wait a moment," Frau Joel said, standing up and brushing her apron off to straighten the fabric. "You mentioned the name Amelia. Is—this couldn't possibly be your Amelia? Are you the one who saved her life?"
My head was spinning. I had so many questions, and yet, all I wanted to do was run out the front door like a mad man to chase after my girl. She made it here. She was alive. The thoughts were endless.
"Ja. That's my Amelia," I said, pointing to the portrait she held.
"Oh Charlie," she sighed. "We helped Amelia find a sponsor in America. She emigrated a few months back. She was sure you were—"
"Dead. I know. We were separated after I was shot down by another guard. I was trying to save her."
"You did save her, Charlie. You gave her a life."
"I have to go to America," I said as if it were my only option—as if I could jump on a boat and go that very same day.
"Ja, but it is costly, and we will have to find you a sponsor too. It takes time, Charlie."
"Do you know where she went when she got to America?"
"I only know she was looking for a place to stay in New York City," Frau Joel answered.
Amelia's dream. It was coming true, but I wanted to live that dream with her. "I need to find a way—"
"Don't we all," Herr Pierce added in. "You are a smart man, Charlie." Herr Pierce was a new visitor, a quiet man who didn't often speak. Therefore, I didn't know much of his story, but he seemed as though he didn't have much direction, or maybe he was trying to figure out what was next for him. He was a soldier too, but had been stationed in Zurich. He more or less served his time but didn't have to see a whole lot, or so he had led us to believe. I envied whatever innocence he still had intact. However, no one truly knows anyone else's story. I suppose he could have been hiding his life better than I hid my own.
Frau Joel helped me back up to my feet, swept some dust off my shoulder and then grabbed my chin between her fingers. "Look at me, Charlie." I peered down at her five-foot-three stance, wondering what she was about to say. "Go on into town, find yourself a job, and start saving every nickel you can. We will get you to America. Ja?"
I pressed my lips together and silently thanked God and Frau Joel before the words found a way off my tongue. "Danke, Frau. Danke."
"This is why I keep this house running, Charlie; for moments like these." Frau Joel handed me the portrait. "Keep this. Keep it as motivation for what is next in your life, sohn."
"Danke," I offered before ambling up the stairwell to my room where I placed the picture down on the nightstand. She may not have been with me in person, but she could still be the first thing I see in the morning and the last thing I see before I went to bed. Amelia was my encouragement to work harder and faster.
I swept, I washed the linens and hung them to dry, and I grabbed my coat and ran for the village. It was suddenly like I had a precise direction, and I walked directly into the bäckerei, feeling as though the pieces were falling into place.
The signs were everywhere. I just hadn't been paying enough attention. "Hallo," I greeted the baker who looked to be helping patrons and preparing goods from behind the counter. "My papa worked in a bread shop most of his life. He taught me everything he knew, and I would love nothing more than to help you in your bäckerei. I won't ask for much," I assured the man.
'You want a job, sohn?" he asked in response.
"Very much so."
"You only have one arm," he said, inspecting me from head to toe.
"I can make do quite well without my arm."
"Can you sweep?"
"Ja. In fact, I can make the floors shine."
The man's lips curled into a smile, just on one side of his face. I guessed he might have been impressed with my answer. Papa always said the cleanliness of a floor could make a big difference to a patron walking into a bake shop. I didn't quite understand what he meant by that as a child, but I understood as a man. "I can pay you five francs a week."
"I will take the offer," I told him. With that kind of pay, I hoped that I could save enough for my trek to America within a year. "I won't let you down, Herr. I am a hard worker."
The next year would not be easy. I would need to work hard at both the bäckerei and at the house with Frau Joel to earn my keep. I didn't feel like I deserved the gifts of a job and housing after the life I had lived, but I was counting my blessings and doing my best to keep my sights on the future. If I could make it to New York City, surely, I could track Amelia down, and life would be perfect.
1I love you
2Good day
