"A tribute to learning is teaching."
A wise saying from the Orient
Crossing the Line
Chapter Seven
His visits were assured, but never on a regular schedule. It seemed as if he dropped by when he could. They were not always convenient, but they helped keep her on her toes because what is to say it wasn't another inspection from a less than friendly Nazi? His visits lasted a few minutes. He would accept her invitation inside and joined her at the table. She offered the only thing she could afford—water—and he accepted it. Seras would sit on the other side of the table, fiddling with whatever ornament suited her fancy at that time. Just as it sounds, it was horribly awkward. Two semi-strangers in each other company with a deadly secret held between them and yet nothing is said.
Until, to her delight, he began to speak to her in broken English. She quickly discovered, though, his capabilities ended with parroting. If she spoke to him, he didn't seem to understand. Not because she was able to read his facial features, but because he would continue with his recitation as if she hadn't spoken. Seras knew it Hans' attempt to compensate for this disability. It was embarrassing for her to get a grown man to stop babbling about the nice weather when really, it was horrendous outside. However, she brought it upon herself to help him understand with lots of arm flaying, hand signaling and gesturing. She smiled a lot during these sessions. It was a pleasant distraction from the sleeting outside or haunting piles of frozen body she hid under last night to avoid detection by some guards along the ghettos perimeter.
It didn't seem right, though, for her to have him speaking English with her. So, she returned the gesture and greeted him one morning in his language, "Guten Morgan, wie geht es Ihnen heute?" He was shocked. She knew this because he had been mid-step into the house and stumbled. His mouth was slack (not obviously so, but just a slight loosening of the jaw). She asked him another simple question, "Möchten Sie etwas trinken? "
After that day, he took of his hat and coat, a sign of immense respect in her book. She was better at German because she's heard it so often. She only needed to identify certain nouns and the manipulation of different verbs. It would be a joke to say she was good. Her teacher had a lot of patience (especially when it came to her English accent which tended to butcher the German language). Soon, though, their conversations leaned away from pleasantries and broached upon subjects such as warnings, alarms, and insults. Seras knew these were the most important ones to pay attention to—these tips would result in a better manipulation of the system. She looked forward to when she might actually be able to apply them. Hans didn't seem as enthusiastic as she explained her excitement to him in broken English and German. In fact, he scowled. The first emotion she's ever seen expressed so freely on his face.
Author: Action pending…
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