Chapter 11: París, Je T'aime – Pt.2
In this chapter:
· Luck!
· The boys
· Bad pseudonyms
· Donny
· A few truths
· Hugo
· Better sex
· An evening stroll
· A movie poster
· Coffee
· A second undesired run-in
· An invitation
There was no chance that Elsie would be telling Hugo about her afternoon, though it would be inevitable that he would ask where she had been, since they had planned on having lunch together.
So much for that.
She had been walking back from The Pure Heart without much concern as to where she was going, too lost in her thoughts to even notice. Observing the area now, Elsie realized she had unwittingly strolled into the neighborhood that a few of the other Basterds were staying in.
Not including her hotel, they were spread out across three others, in an effort to make it harder for the enemy to find them, should they be discovered in the city. The hotel she now approached housed Wilhelm, Hirschberg, Utivich and Omar, though she had no idea what rooms they were staying in.
She approached the front desk with a polite smile.
"Bonjour," the woman behind the desk greeted.
"Bonjour. My brother told me he was staying in this hotel, but he didn't mention which room," she replied, in French.
Elsie suddenly realized that if the receptionist were to ask her what her brother's name was, she would have no idea. The Basterds hadn't exchanged their pseudonyms before going their own separate ways, which would have been the smart thing to do.
Great plan, Elsie, she told herself.
"Your name?" the lady asked.
Elsie heaved an inner sigh of relief. "Cécille Amour."
"Jean-Claude Amour? He is your brother, yes?"
She was referring to a list of names of those staying in the hotel as she looked up at Elsie, who quickly checked her surprised expression and turned it to one of calm recognition. If she said yes, she could end up at the room of a total stranger. But if luck was on her side, one of the Basterds could have used the same surname as her. It was a massive leap of faith.
Elsie hoped Lady Luck was about to pay her dues. And after the way her afternoon had gone, she really owed the poor girl.
"Oui, that's him."
"He's on the third floor. Room 314."
"Merci," Elsie thanked her, heading for the elevator.
She waited a moment for the doors to open before stepping into the small space and pressing the shiny button number '3'. The doors 'dinged' closed and as it began moving upward, Elsie let out a soft sigh, tapping her fingers against her purse.
The lift stopped at the second floor, and opened to let in a uniformed German soldier. He offered a friendly smile and Elsie forced one back.
She was getting pretty good at doing that.
The awkward ten second ride up to the third floor made Elsie glad to step out of the elevator and onto steady ground, despite the fact that she was now facing the unknown. As the elevator doors shut behind her with an ominous 'DING', she gazed down the empty hallway. She began walking towards room 314. As she passed room 308, she could've sworn she heard a familiar voice shouting at someone.
314.
She stared at the silver number set on the white door before finally knocking, wanting nothing more than to get it over and done with.
After a painstaking few seconds, Wilhelm opened the door, surprised to see his visitor.
"Oh, thank Christ!"
She hugged him and he hugged her back in deep confusion.
"Is everything okay?" he asked, as they broke away from one another.
"Yeah, yeah, it's fine. Funny story, you're my brother now, apparently," Elsie explained.
"I see," he replied, raising an eyebrow. Then he smiled, "You look nice."
Coming from Wilhelm, this was a compliment and nothing more. She liked that about him.
"Thanks," she replied.
"Do you want to come in?"
"Sure," she said, but before she could even take a step forward, a door opened nearby.
"Is that Elsie?"
Elsie put her hand over her eyes in irritation.
"No, it's Cécille!" she called back, as she turned her head in the direction of the voice, rolling her eyes.
Hirschberg stepped out of his room, 308, as did Utivich.
"Are you two sharing a room?" she asked them with laughter in her voice.
"No. Mr. Snails here was 'bored' apparently," Hirschberg replied, jabbing his thumb in the direction of Utivich, who stood a few steps behind him.
"Mr. Snails?"
Standing behind her, leaning against his door's frame, Wilhelm let out a chuckle.
Elsie looked back at him, and then turned her attention once more to the other two Basterds. She looked to Utivich for an answer, but he didn't seem to want to give one.
"Tell her your name," Hirschberg urged.
"Pierre...Escargot."
Elsie bit her lip to keep from laughing, even as Hirschberg snickered loudly.
"Why...what made you choose that name?" Elsie inquired.
"It sounded French," Utivich replied defensively.
"And how hard did the receptionist laugh when you told her it?"
She was unable to control her laughter any longer.
"Oh, shut up!" Utivich told them, "At least it isn't as bad as yours."
Elsie looked at Hirschberg.
"What's yours?"
"Mine's not bad," he told Utivich.
"'George Washington'? I thought we didn't want them to know that we're American!"
"At the volume you two are talking, I wouldn't be surprised if this whole floor already knew," Elsie told them both.
"Fuck that," Hirschberg said, not bothering to lower his voice after Elsie's warning, "My name still beats yours and Ulmer's."
Elsie glanced at Utivich.
"Fred Astaire," he answered without her having even need ask.
"You called?"
Omar stuck his head out from behind his door across the hall.
He joined the four in the hallway who were either smiling or laughing at his entrance.
"Fred Astaire?" Elsie asked, eyebrows raised.
"Hey, the man can dance," he replied with a small shrug.
Hirschberg was staring at Elsie with a small frown and then raised his gaze to meet hers.
"Have you been eating lately or what?" he asked her. He stepped forward and gave her a sharp poke in the ribs.
"Ow! What the fuck? Was that really necessary?"
She had always been thin as a girl, rather lanky actually, but after all that she had been through – from the week in the orchard, to her months of travel on rations – Elsie had lost a lot of weight. She had even noticed her ribs poking through a little bit when she had showered that morning. Hugo had as well, having run his fingers over them with a look of concern.
"Oh, someone's thinking something dirty," Hirschberg commented, in a sing-song voice.
This brought Elsie back from her thoughts in an instant.
"What?" She blinked a few times as though coming out of a trance. Thinking back to that shower had caused her mind to drift…
"Was it about me?" Hirschberg joked, "Be honest."
Sensing an awkward situation brewing, Wilhelm stepped in.
"Have you had lunch yet, Elsie?"
She thought back to her untouched meal in the restaurant. She hadn't eaten since morning, and only then realized how hungry she actually was, a hint of nausea threatening to turn if she didn't get some food in her soon.
"You know, we just ordered a shitload of stuff to my room. You can just eat with us," Hirschberg offered.
He would never actually admit the fact that he had been missing Elsie's company. She was like the sister he had always wanted.
Omar and Utivich looked to her, waiting for her to accept the offer.
"Oh, okay," she gave in.
Wondering if Hirschberg hadn't ordered one of everything on the menu, Elsie scooped a little bit from each dish onto her plate before sitting back against the head post of the bed next to him. Utivich and Omar sat on the ground with their backs against the wall and Wilhelm occupied the room's only chair.
"Where are you staying?" Utivich asked Elsie.
"Same hotel as Donny?" Omar guessed.
Wilhelm and Elsie exchanged the briefest of glances before she answered.
"No. It's this little place down by the river."
"Oh," is all Omar replied, focusing on his food.
"Am I the only one who finds it boring as shit in this town?" Hirschberg asked everyone, "All the best girls are with krauts, I fucking hate shopping and everything's in French."
"You're in France," Utivich reminded him.
As she took a mouthful of chicken, Elsie considered how her stay had been far more eventful so far.
"It's easy for you," Hirschberg went on, this time directing his flow of comments at Elsie, "You can just go out and buy some dresses, or take a nice stroll by the river, 'cos you can understand French! And judging by that look you had on your mug before, new clothes aren't the only thing you've had on you."
They all looked at her, eager for her reply, except for Wilhelm who took it upon himself to once again rescue her from another potentially awkward situation.
"How did you know which floor we were on?" he asked.
Elsie explained what had happened at the front desk and her leap of faith that she would be going to the right room.
"How did you choose your name, anyway?" she asked him.
"We passed a film poster on the way into the city. 'L'Amour de Paris'."
Elsie smiled. It was the same way she had selected her surname.
"Great minds, huh?"
"That's what they say," Wilhelm replied.
"You look weir-...different, without your uniform," Utivich commented to Elsie.
"I never wore a uniform," she pointed out, "but I thought I'd get some dress-wearing in before the week's over. Who know how long this shitstorm's going to last?"
A heavy silence fell over them as their separate thoughts drifted; family back home, things they had seen and done. And the most plaguing thought: death in the line of duty.
But Hirschberg, Utivich, Elsie and Omar needn't have worried about such a thing – at least not yet. After all, it was Wilhelm who had only three more days left to live.
Now no longer hungry (though that slightly queasy feeling still lingered – she put it down to overeating), Elsie walked back to her hotel. She stopped on the pathway and observed the building on her left; the one in which Donny and Hugo were staying. Rubbing the nail of her index finger over the pad of her thumb, she made the decision to go inside; not to find Hugo, but to see Donny.
She missed the hell out of him.
This time, before approaching the front desk, Elsie thought ahead.
What name would Donny have used?
She wracked her brain trying to think, and his baseball bat suddenly flashed into her mind.
Baseball...baseball...
She recalled the last time she had watched him beat someone to death with it and his commentary afterwards. She chuckled to herself before the answer suddenly came to her.
"Excuse me, I'm looking for Mr. Williams? Theodore Williams?"
"We have a 'Ted E. Williams?" the receptionist replied.
"Oui."
"Urm...Room 219," the woman replied, as she glanced at the guest list in front of her behind the desk.
"Merci," Elsie grinned.
Donny lay on his bed, hands behind his head, deep in thought, when he heard a knock at his door. Picking up his bat from its resting spot against the bedside table, he swung his legs over the side of the bed and approached with caution.
"Who is it?" he asked, bat poised and ready.
"Room service," a familiar voice replied.
Lowering the bat, Donny opened the door to find Elsie looking down the hallway as though she hadn't heard the door unlock. She turned to him and smiled.
"Need anything serviced?"
She laughed and hugged him before entering the room.
Closing the door, he watched her look around before she finally took a seat at the end of his bed. She looked up to see why he was still by the door.
As Donny walked over, placing his bat back against the table, he made a mental note not to bring Stiglitz up at all. If she mentioned him, only then would he say what he had to.
But it was hard to be angry at someone he cared so much about.
He lay back down on the bed.
"You boys stay in your rooms all day?" Elsie said, more of a comment than a question.
"What the fuck else is there to do? It's the first real break we've had. I'd rather stay in, eating real food and having a real, warm shower than fuck around out there with the Frogs."
"So you've been in here the whole time?"
"Not the whole time. But like I said: what else is there to do? Whatta you been doin'?"
He willed her to bring up Stiglitz, just so he could say what he had to and get it off of his chest.
"Shopping, walking around. I saw a movie last night," she told him.
"Any good?"
She made a noise that said 'not bad'.
"Then I went to a jazz club with Hugo. That was fun."
She knew she was on thin ice with that remark, but she waited to see his reaction.
"And what happened after that?" he responded, voice tight.
If he was going to act like a fucking child, then Elsie was going to reply accordingly.
"He walked me back to my hotel and kissed me goodnight."
Donny stared at her, but hate in his eyes was for Stiglitz, not her.
"So you finally did it, huh?"
"Kissed?"
"You know exactly what I mean," he said, a little angrier than he meant to.
"Not quite," Elsie replied, her voice soft as she recalled what had happened.
"Yeah. I bet he couldn't even get it up."
She rolled her eyes. It was time to tell him. If she didn't, he would go on like this forever.
"Donny… I was raped."
He sat up so quickly that Elsie moved a little further off the bed. Rage filled his eyes and he clenched his jaw. His gaze met hers.
"By Stiglitz?"
Elsie frowned in disgust, "What? No! In the prison."
Donny paused a moment, too furious to even speak.
"By who?"
"An officer that was passing through."
"Does Stiglitz know about this?"
"Yeah. He nearly witnessed it. He tried to kill the man before he could try anything, but they dragged him out. He got in one good punch, though."
Donny suddenly felt new respect for Stiglitz.
He slid across the bed to sit next to Elsie, who was staring blankly ahead, but was not actually too upset. After seeing Hellstrom again, she had finally been given the chance to face what had been done to her, rather than allowing it to fester away in her subconscious. Hellstrom wasn't the scary boogeyman she had conjured up in her mind; he was a flesh-and-blood person not worthy of being called a man. That was all. With this new outlook on things, she felt that she could finally get on with her life – not without some difficulty, but it was something.
Donny, on the other hand, could not let this go.
"It's my fault," he said.
Elsie turned her head to look at him.
"What?"
"Why the fuck did I think it would be funny to put you in that dress?"
"I don't blame you for what happened." She couldn't believe that he thought it was his fault.
She took his hand in hers and their eyes met. His were still filled with anger, but now it was for himself. Her confession was still sinking in for him, the guilt continuing to build as he thought of all the times he'd teasingly called her a whore, or made comments about her breasts.
"I am a fucking idiot."
"But you're a lovable fucking idiot," Elsie smiled.
"I should've known," he said.
"Should've known what?"
"That I shoulda made you mine while I had the chance."
Elsie raised her eyebrows, but only half-heartedly. His confession was no surprise to her; she had known all along.
"Now that ex-kraut's got ya. He better treat you right, I tell ya. If he steps outta line once; I'll break his German fuckin' neck."
"Aw, Donny," Elsie teased him for saying such sweet things. It just wasn't his style; nor was it hers. She let go of his hand and shoved him so that he fell back onto the bed. He lay there as she remained seated and he stared up at her.
He really did wish he had been smart enough to do what his heart and head had told him (not to mention certain other parts of his body), but his moments of hesitation had left him out of the picture. Out of her picture, at least. But not completely.
The moment before she left, Elsie hugged him close once more. He planted a kiss on the top of her head and she raised an eyebrow at him, an expression that was accompanied by a small smile.
As she walked away, he couldn't help but wish that something would come along that would take Stiglitz out of the picture.
Flopping down on his bed, he thought of nothing besides the girl he now knew he was in love with.
When Elsie opened the door to her room, Hugo was already in there, lying on the bed smoking a cigarette, one hand behind his head. Elsie closed the door and leaned back against it with her arms folded against her chest.
Hugo smiled.
"How did you get in here?" she asked.
"The same way I got into the rooms of all those Gestapo officers," he replied mischievously.
So he was in that kind of mood, huh? Good.
He propped himself up on one elbow and looked at her invitingly.
"Where did you get to today? I thought we were having lunch together."
There it was. The inevitable question. And her inevitable lie.
"Sorry. I got sidetracked. Do you feel like eating now?"
"Depends what I'm eating."
For the first time in a long time, Elsie felt herself blush.
He chuckled at her reaction and put out his cigarette in the ashtray.
"I'm just going to go change."
She headed for the bathroom door, but didn't even hear him get up. Before she could reach her destination, he had wrapped his arms around her waist.
"Why?"
"This is a new dress", she replied.
"What are you expecting to get on it?"
She turned around, still in his grasp, and furrowed her brow a little. But she was enjoying the filth coming out of his mouth; a little too much, perhaps.
"You don't have to go to the bathroom to change," he whispered close to her ear. She stepped back and he let go of her, watching as she kicked off her heels and turned her back to him.
"Unzip me," she asked, looking back at him with innocent eyes.
He did so very slowly, sliding it down over her shoulders and grabbing it at the bottom hem, pulling it the rest of the way down. He ran his fingers along her thighs, up to her sides.
"I had an idea," he told her, before kissing up the back of her shoulder and up her neck.
"What might that have been?" she asked, closing her eyes and focusing on the sensation of his hands on her skin. His stubble felt rough against her cheek.
"You'll find out," he smiled, "All you have to do is lay back. Let me do the rest."
She smiled at him suspiciously as she did what he said, laying back on the soft bed. Still clothed, he knelt down at the end of the bed, grabbed her by the legs and pulled her towards him. She let out a little cry at his unexpected move and looked down at him to see what he was up to. He kissed up her leg and she closed her eyes once more as he reached her inner thigh. She allowed him to take down her underwear and glanced down at him just in time to see his very sly smirk before it disappeared between her legs.
Feeling weak at the knees, but more relaxed than she had felt for quite a while, Elsie took another evening stroll outside, leaving Hugo to rest peaceful and smiling on her bed. They were yet to go as far as she wanted to, but she thought she might be ready. She just needed some night air, first.
Taking the same route as always, she drew closer to the cinema. She thought of going inside to say hello to the young girl once more, but noticed a group of people inside that stopped her in her tracks.
The young girl was one of them, as well as the young German soldier who had returned her forgotten purse to her. Another woman walked amongst them, walking a big, black poodle and looking extremely French in her over-the-top, leopard-print outfit. The last two to make up the group were the ones that left Elsie truly speechless.
One of them was Major Hellstrom, who was smiling and laughing at what was being said by the man beside him, a man who appeared to be...Joseph Goebbels: the Minister of Propaganda himself. She recognized him from his picture in that morning's newspaper, a German-printed paper that praised him for his many successful propaganda films. Now that she was part of a military outfit, she had taken it upon herself to learn as much as she could about the enemy – and she was yet to see a newspaper or poster that didn't praise Hitler's favorite minister.
What the hell was he doing there?
Frowning, Elsie watched as the group left the cinema, most of them saying their farewells to the young blonde girl. The soldier turned to look over his shoulder at her, with one last smile before following the others down the road. The girl watched them get into two cars and drive away before she went back inside, clearly edgy from their visit.
But who wouldn't be?
Elsie continued her walk down the cinema's street, stopping in front of a large movie poster that had been put up on the wall. The actor featured on it looked oddly familiar.
Hearing footsteps heading towards her, Elsie turned around and saw that the young soldier had remained behind. She glanced from him to the poster and then did a double take.
So that's why she had recognized him in the cinema. She had walked past this poster a number of times before, but it was only now that she realized that this young man and the actor from the film the poster advertised were, in fact, the same person.
He chuckled lightly at her realization.
"I didn't realize that you were a film star," she told him in French.
He gave a humble shake of his head and glanced up at the poster.
"That? That is not me. Not the real me," he said.
Elsie had to admit, she was a little intrigued about who this guy was.
"Can I ask what the film is about?"
He seemed to consider her for a moment, glancing up at the poster thoughtfully, and then looked back at her.
"Would you like to have some coffee with me? Perhaps I can explain it then?"
She hesitated. He didn't have the same dark glint in his eyes that made Hellstrom so villainous. In fact, this boy looked incapable of harming anyone, with his innocent expression and charismatic smile. She couldn't see the harm in it.
"Where are my manners? My name is Fredrick Zoller."
Elsie nodded, throwing a meaningful glance up at the poster, which had FREDRICK ZOLLER written across it in huge letters. He gave another polite chuckle.
"Cécille Amour," Elsie replied.
"There's a café not far from here. Das Reine Herz. Have you been there?"
Silently, Elsie groaned, but she gave a smile and nodded.
"Oui."
He held out his elbow for her to take, and she did, feeling very strange for doing so.
Elsie was becoming almost a regular at The Pure Heart, with each visit somehow managing to include a uniformed German soldier. She was hoping not to make it a habit.
Fredrick was pleasant enough, but this wasn't really how she had planned on spending her evening; getting to know a Nazi who was celebrated in Germany for killing a large number of American soldiers. As he explained to her what it was he had done to become such a celebrity, she did her best to conceal her feelings of growing disbelief.
The boy had no idea that he was revealing all of this to an American.
She was glad he talked mostly about himself, though he didn't come across as entirely obnoxious; she would rather hear about him than have to make up answers to questions about herself.
He was now telling her about his upcoming film and how it had been Goebbels' idea to have him star in it as himself. Elsie just sat and nodded, listening and drinking her coffee.
Finally, he seemed to draw his explanation to a close, but from the way he was speaking it seemed as though he had other intentions besides bringing her there for a coffee.
"I actually had something I wanted to ask," he began.
But before he could let his reasons for bringing her there be known, they were interrupted.
Fredrick stood up from his seat and saluted someone standing behind Elsie.
"Major Hellstrom," he greeted.
Elsie squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, asking God why it was that he taunted her so, but remembering herself, she glanced around at the officer.
Hellstrom saluted Fredrick back very briefly before focusing his attention on the young man's coffee partner. She could read very clearly the pleasure he was getting from this more subtle form of torture.
"Minister Goebbels wanted me to see where you had gotten to," he explained to the young private in their native tongue. "I see that you've discovered Cécille."
He smiled at her like an old friend. She smiled back grimly.
"Oh, you two know each other?" Fredrick asked, delighted.
"We've met before," Hellstrom said.
Looking down at Elsie, who was still seated, Fredrick realized that she probably didn't understand a word of what they were saying.
"Sorry," he began, but he was cut off by Hellstrom, who quickly caught on.
"It's okay. She understands German."
"How clever," Fredrick commented, with a suave smile.
Elsie raised her eyebrows at him behind his back and rolled her eyes, feeling like an animal that had learned a party trick.
Hellstrom caught her expression and smirked.
She waited for this visit of his to have a point. Was that too much to ask for?
"Well, seeing as you both know each other, I hope I'm not stealing your date for the premiere," Fredrick said to Hellstrom.
Elsie tried not to look too disturbed by this statement.
"I hadn't had the opportunity to ask," Hellstrom replied.
Elsie stiffened in her seat and stared down at her coffee, waiting to see how Fredrick would respond to this.
"Oh..."
Hellstrom gave his statement another few seconds to truly sink, reveling in the expression on Elsie's face, before adding, "I'm joking. I wouldn't deprive the star of such a wonderful escort."
The way he used the word 'escort' made Elsie glare up at him, the reaction he had been fishing for.
Fredrick turned back to Elsie with what was fast becoming his signature smile, polite and somewhat charming, and finally got to the point of his invitation to coffee.
"Cécille? Would you do me the pleasure of being my date for the premiere of my film?"
Elsie had no answer for him. There was nothing she could think of that would be more fun than attending an evening of Nazi propaganda and meeting all of Hitler's most esteemed Reich members, except maybe spending the night locked in her hotel room, slowly hacking off her own limbs with a blunt axe.
But she couldn't tell him 'no', knowing she would come across as rude, and although Elsie rarely cared if she was coming across as rude to anyone, she felt it would be better in this particular case, if she were to remain polite in the eyes of this young man.
For all she knew, being on good terms with him could come in handy one day.
Hellstrom stared at her, entertained to see her in such a tight spot, and Elsie realized that turning Frederick down could have even worse consequences; it could open her up to an invitation from Hellstrom.
She quickly thought of the best response.
"I would have to check with my father. He's very strict when it comes to things like this. Could I give you my answer in a couple of days?" she said.
Frederick smiled, "Of course, I understand. Shall we meet back in two days' time? At say... nine o'clock?"
"Ja," Elsie told him, relieved.
"Excellent," he replied, kissing her hand goodbye and placing some money on the table for both of their drinks, "Until then."
Fredrick walked past Hellstrom, who remained behind to give Elsie one last smug grin. She saluted him mockingly, using mainly her middle-finger.
He left the restaurant chuckling, while Elsie gathered her things to prepare to go.
Hugo was probably waiting.
Indeed he was, but not where she had expected him to be.
He was outside the hotel building, leaning back against the wall, smoking, as she approached.
"What are you doing out here?" she asked. It was just about freezing and although he was in a heavy jacket and a scarf, she couldn't really see any reason why he would choose to be outside.
"Waiting for you," he replied.
"You couldn't do that inside?"
"I wanted to tell you something. It felt more right to do it out here."
The sky was looking overcast, even in the dark of the night. There was a storm brewing, the electricity crackling in the air.
"What would that be?" she asked him.
She was still standing a few steps away from him. He took one last, long draw on the cigarette, dropped it to the ground and crushed it out with his boot. He looked up at the sky and blew the smoke out from before moving his gaze back to Elsie.
"That I love you," he told her simply.
There was a moment before she replied where a little voice in her head whispered, 'This isn't right. You weren't supposed to hear those words from him', but she ignored it, instead smiling sweetly.
"I love you, too," she returned, as she moved towards him, "and I had this idea..."