Rifiuto: Non Miriena
A/N: Z's cravings seem to get worse at night... pickles and peppermint ice cream this time...
"How or where can we meet the people in their time of need if we are not in the midst?"
- Major Alida Bosshardt (1913 - 2007), Salvation Army Officer in Netherlands during WWII
Berlin, Germany
8:00 P.M.
The water rushed over her dark curls in first a waterfall and then in rivulets. She kept her eyes closed, refusing to acknowledge the older woman working her hands through damp, dark curls. If she didn't acknowledge Mrs. Fromm, then she wouldn't start to think of Ima, and she wouldn't start to cry. Yes, that was best option. Complete silence.
Unfortunately, Mrs. Fromm had other ideas.
"Adrian and Cora tell me you and your sister lived in the sewers for weeks while you escaped the ghetto." She clucked her tongue. "It must have been horrible. I can only imagine-" She stopped when the girl didn't respond. "Can you tell me about your older siblings? Adrian said you had an older brother and sister."
Silence.
"You were very lucky, you and your sister, to escape the ghetto alive." She dredged the pitcher through the warm water again, drizzling it over the girl's head once more to rinse out the soap. "How old are you? Cora told me that Eva is ten."
"Chava."
"What?" Slowly, the younger girl turned to look at her over her shoulder; tears glistened in her eyes as she whispered,
"My sister's name is Cha-va."
Anneliese studied the girl- a child, really- sitting before her. It had been her idea to give both girls' baths, thinking it would make both feel better about staying with the family. And while Eva had chattered excitedly about everything she could think of, Zara had kept quiet, lost in her thoughts. It was blatantly clear that the girl didn't trust Germans- and why should she, when her family had been stripped of everything, including their lives, save for herself and her younger sister, who, by the grace of God himself- in Anneliese's eyes- had managed to escape the slaughter at Warsaw and reach Berlin and the surprising safety of their home?
At first, she'd objected to the girls staying, but Henrik had worn her down- his lecture about doing the right thing in the face of tyranny and hate had had no effect until he'd uttered the same words Adrian had the day he returned from University. One look at the girls when they returned to the living room had helped her make up her mind. She'd gone to the foyer and locked the door, before returning to the living room and pulling the heavy dark green drapes over the light curtains, hiding all view inside. She'd then fixed a quick meal for the girls, and though Chava had relished the food, Zara had only picked at it before pushing it away.
She'd gotten up, retreating to the living room and dropping to her knees in front of the fire, struggling not to break down. Adrian had gone to her, pulling her into his arms and letting her cry. It was then that Anneliese realized that, like Cora with Chava, Adrian had developed a particular attachment to Zara. Though she knew nothing of the kiss in the rain, she did know that he look on it as his job to protect her- it didn't matter against whom.
So when she'd suggested that maybe a bath would do both girls good, Chava had rushed to her with excitement, and in her chattering, had let slip a single word,
Ima.
At first, the girl hadn't realized what she'd said, until she'd turned to her sister, whom Adrian had walked into the foyer. The pain in the older girl's eyes had been evident and clear, and all had understood on some level what Ima meant.
Mother.
Now, she studied the girl- a child, forced to grow up far too fast in a world bent on destroying her and others of her race; an orphan, lost and longing for the comforting arms of her own mother, and sadly, given a cold substitute. She nodded. "Ch-ava?" A moment passed, before the girl nodded once, lowering her gaze. Anneliese swallowed. "I will remember that. Now, let's get you out and dried off." She stood, holding out a towel. Slowly, the girl stood, accepting the hand she offered as she stepped out of the tub.
The girl slipped, stumbling into Anneliese's arms. Slowly, the girl looked up, fear in her eyes, and she gave her a soft smile. "It's okay. You're all right." Zara was quiet, and once steady on her feet, allowed her to dry her off. As she worked on drying the girl's skin, she couldn't help but find herself curious about the girl. "You are Polish?" She looked up from working on the girl's legs and stomach. Zara nodded. "From Warsaw?" Another nod. Slowly, she stood, now drying off her shoulders. "How old are you?"
Zara was quiet, and Anneliese took that as her answer, but soon heard a broken, yet soft German answer,
"Ach... achtzehn."
Anneliese felt her eyes widen in shock. She had thought the girl was Cora's age- but that could have been because she was thin, and if she'd been surviving in the sewers, the lack of food would contribute to her weight loss- but to discover that she was actually older-
"You are two years younger than my son." She replied, reaching up and drying the girl's hair. Zara let her, keeping her eyes closed and her head down.
"Zwan... Zwanzig?" She soon found herself staring into wide dark eyes, and after a moment, she nodded, before wrapping the towel around the girl and pushing her towards a chair as she picked up a comb and began running it through the damp curls to get the tangles out.
"Yes. He's twenty. Though he looks much younger, and so he's often dismissed because of his looks, not his ideas or his mind. He spent two and a half years at University in Munich, before coming home. He lost... several good friends to Hitler." She sighed, lost in thought. After a moment, a soft chuckle escaped her throat. "My Adrian... so passionate, so full of fire... it's that fire that gives him the courage to stand up for what's right, but what he doesn't understand is that... that same fire will get him into trouble... and if he's not careful... that same fire will take his life."
Zara's eyes snapped open, her gaze sliding to the side at the feel of someone watching her. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught Adrian, leaning against the door frame, hiding within the shadows of the foyer, keeping protective watch over her.