An icy winter breeze
It was an early, bitter cold evening in January when the frost was resting against the windows and sucked up the icy winds as they whizzed by, along the streets of Molching. The snow gave the town an almost fairy tale-like impression and the white rooftops met a starry, black sky. The last weeks the sun had been hiding for most of the time during the days except for a few hours in the mornings. But it felt more like minutes. You could look at a shining sun one second and then be met by greyness in the next. Greyness and everlasting greyness. God obviously loves grey.
It was one of those days when Liesel were the one to bring Max his supper. Usually it was Rosa who did it, but this day she had gone to do some shopping in town and was not yet back home. Earlier that day she had been her usual, loud, rough self; complaining and swearing about Hans`s lack of work and low income, the complex of having four mouths to feed when there was hardly any food at all. She blamed everyone for it, especially Hans of course, and Liesel, and Frau Holtzapfel, and Hans, the others neighbours and Hans. Neither Hans or Liesel took any offense by her. Actually her yelling on the contrary could be quite comfortable at times. It was just Mama being herself and on those very rare occasions when she did not yell, well, then it was a good time to get worried. Only Max downstairs might have felt guilty if he had heard her, even though she had not dared to mention his name. Perhaps he had not heard anything. They could only hope. But probably he had. Rosa´s high voice would easily reach into every corner of the house.
Now Liesel was standing in the kitchen, filling a bowl of soup. A gigantic saucepan were firmly placed on the stove, completely dominating the small area. A slightly revolting, but familiar smell filled the air around her. Liesel could hear the heavy chuck-chuck- sounds of her Papa shovelling snow on the outside in front of the house, but otherwise it was pretty quiet. She took the now filled bowl and walked carefully down the old, creaking stairs, holding the bowl in one hand and supporting herself against the banisters with the other. When she was about half way down she suddenly felt that it was remarkably cold. Even colder than usual and she felt a shiver go down her spine and then spread itself all over her back. It was like an icy breeze and it infested the cellar like hollow, vengeful ghosts. Liesel trembled as she hurried down as fast as she could still carrying the bowl in her hand.
"Max?" she called out in the fusty darkness that met her eyes and surrounded her.
"Max?" she called again, sounding a bit more worried. No answer. Liesel quickly put the bowl down on an empty paint can and then she ran to the hiding place under the stairs. She pulled aside all the cans and cloths and found Max on the mattress, seeming to be asleep. Though he was shaking like a leaf.
"Max!" Liesel grabbed his thin shoulders and shook him a little. That was all it took but the worst of thoughts had already run through Liesel´s mind. Thoughts like: "what if he is sick?" or "what if it is too cold and he will never wake up again?"
There was no doubt you could have put layers of snow on the floor and it would certainly not melt. But to Liesel´s great relief Max woke up instantly with a start and she was met by a frightened pair of wide awake, brown eyes. They darted around wildly as if he expected something more dangerous, like the Führer, to pop up behind a paint can any second. It was the look of someone who is always on his guard. In the end his eyes were focused on the girl in front of him.
"Liesel", was all he said.
Liesel turned to the stairs and called up:
"Papa! Papa!"
Fortunately, Hans Hubermann was already inside at that moment. He was just going to make himself a warm, refreshing cup of coffee when he heard Liesel´s anxious voice. He hurried down the stairs.
"Was ist los? What´s the matter?" he frowned and then he felt the same increasing cold as Liesel did. He too began to shiver a bit and he walked to Liesel and Max, who had now managed to sit up. Max held the blanket tightly around his shoulders, even though it was as cold as the rest of the cellar. His fingers had taken a slightly blue colour and so had his trembling lips. In the face he was all white. A very serious expression of worry came across Hans`s face and the silvery eyes suddenly looked heavy. He reached out to touch Max`s arm and then he cried out in a horrified voice:
"Jesus, Mary and Josef! You´ll freeze to death down here!"
He turned to Liesel and went on:
"Liesel, go and prepare a bath quickly! But remember-"
"Not too hot", Liesel filled in properly.
Hans nodded and Liesel left the cellar somewhat reluctantly. She gave Max one final worried glance before she ran up the stairs. Hans looked back at Max, his eyes now a bit curious.
"Has it been this cold all day and all night?" he asked. "Or did it began not before this evening?"
Max looked up at him.
"I… I don´t really know", he stammered pitifully and curled himself up. It looked as if he wanted disappear completely in the cold blanket.
"I´m afraid I´m getting a bit too used to the cold", he went on in a guilty tone. "I´m sorry."
But Hans only shook his head.
"Don´t apologize. But if you´re freezing to death down here I´d prefer you told us. It´s not supposed to be this cold. It has to be a bloody hole somewhere…"
He let his eyes search through the cellar but he could not find any hole at a brief look. He sighed.
"A hole could mean rats", he muttered and grimaced at the thought.
"I´m so-", Max began but stopped himself half through the sentence, hand over his mouth. Hans understood what he meant to say and gave him a weak, but sympathetic smile.
"Come on", he said pleasantly, ignoring what Max had just said. "Go up. And tonight you´ll be sleeping by the fireplace."
Hearing this, Max immediately shook his head, guilt dominating his white face.
"No, there is no need… I don´t-"
"Oh, yes", Hans said calmingly. "You´ll be sleeping by the fireplace and you´ll have something to eat as well. Something warm. Now, go to Liesel and I´ll look for that goddamn hole."
"Thank you", Max said quietly, still sounding ashamed. No more words made their way out of his mouth and he slowly rose up, shaking terribly and went up the stairs on his stumbling feet.
Much later that very same night, when Liesel as usual woke up from a nightmare, she heard a quiet moaning of agony coming from the first floor. Max too dreamt his nightmares and Liesel could almost hear his fast breathing and how he desperately twisted and turned himself on the mattress by the fireplace. He was warm now. He had been given a bath, warm soup and extra blankets. But he was wet as well; sweat dripping down his forehead, making his face glisten in the dim light of the fading glow in the fireplace. Quietly Liesel got out of her bed and grabbed her pillow. Then she tiptoed down the stairs and into the living room, where Max and her parents were sleeping. Neither Mama or Papa seemed to be disturbed by Max`s moaning. Instead they both looked to be fast asleep close to each other. Perhaps it was no wonder; Mama`s snoring were actually just a little bit louder than Max.
Liesel had stopped by the threshold. Max`s slim figure had curled itself up and Liesel assumed that he must have woken up because his breathing were more regular now and instead of the moaning there were only very quiet, pitiful sobs coming from him. Lying there on the floor crying, he looked ever so lonely in the eyes of Liesel. Carefully she approached him and sat down by his side.
"Max?" she whispered and Max winced a little at the sudden sound of her voice.
"Liesel?"
He lay with his back to her and it was shaking constantly. His voice were nothing but a trembling whisper in the dark.
"Please, Max, don´t cry", was the first thing Liesel wanted to say but she could hardly blame him for doing it, so she did not say anything like that.
"What were you dreaming about?" she asked instead. There was a short silence and then Max answered:
"My family. And… And die Führer took them away."
Then silence again.
"Do you want me to leave?" Liesel said shyly. She felt a little sad at the thought of it but she had suddenly realized that maybe, just maybe, in these kind of situations, Max would prefer to be alone. Max although answered her question by starting to cry again.
"Oh, no, please, Liesel… I´m sorry… I didn´t mean to…"
Liesel became a little scared and felt slightly insecure by the whole situation. Usually grown ups did not cry in front of her and even on those rare times they did, it had not been her responsibility to make them feel better. She glanced at the bed. Perhaps she should wake her parents and ask them for help? She considered that for a moment. Her eyes wandered to the bed and then back to Max on the floor. Suddenly she came to think about that time when Max had asked her to cut his hair when Mama was all too nervous by the task. Something made her change her mind about waking her parents and instead she got an idea. She leaned forward and wiped away some of the tears of Max`s bony cheek.
"I´m going to tell you a story", she said as she quickly searched through her brain for inspiration; she thought about the books she had read and those which she had yet to read. Slowly she began her tale, using well-chosen words and kept her eyes on Max`s fascinating, feather hair meanwhile. Crackling sounds came from the fireplace. It was still very dark outside and after a while Max were sleeping again. Then Liesel lay down directly on the carpet next to the mattress with her pillow beneath her head. It was rather uncomfortable in comparison to her soft bed upstairs, but she did not think about going back. She fell asleep hearing the fireplace crackling, Max`s breathing and her Mama`s never ending snoring.