Seven
For the first time in a long time, the Gruber house was in a state of complete peace. An indicator of this was the beautiful sounds of one of Chopin's last nocturnes played exquisitely on the little cabinet piano in the drawing room of the house. Mina sat at the instrument, with perfect posture and poise, her little fingers dancing over the black and white keys effortlessly. The early evening light that fell through the window landed on her golden hair, giving her the illusion of a halo. The expression on her face read of complete bliss, the surroundings around her completely forgotten for now. Her chores had been finished long ago, and for now she was free.
Music had been something that had been very dear to her mother. Though the memories Mina held of her mother were few, they were very precious to Mina. One of the most powerful memories was of when she was about three. Her mother had put little Mina on her lap as she sat at the piano, and placed her tiny little hands over her own bigger ones as she played beautifully. The seven-year-old Rolf had sat on the bench beside her, leaning his blond head against her shoulder. Her mother had begun to teach Mina to play very soon after, and after her death, Mina had taught herself, learning the discipline and patience so unusual in a girl her age along the way. Mina took every opportunity of her father being out of the house since to practice; he hated hearing the piano because it reminded him of his wife. The only reason they still had the instrument in the house was because Werner was too lazy and cheap to hire people to take it away.
It was a very happy circumstance that Mina was playing when Rolf came home. Immediately it began to soothe his soul, and no one else in Austria needed to be soothed more.
Not until Mina finished the piece did she realize that her brother had come home. Eager to share in the peace of the house with her brother, she got up from the piano and headed for the kitchen, where he always went through the back door when he came home. But at the entrance she stopped at the sight of him, her heart wrenching at the sight. Her brother sat at the kitchen table, his head in his pale hands. His entire figure trembled with shallow breaths and repressed sobs.
"Rolf!" she exclaimed, rushing to him and kneeling beside him. She rubbed his back and gripped his arm. "Talk to me, what's wrong? You look like you've been cursed."
Her older brother almost laughed, and turned his face to look at her. She gasped at how pale it was. "You've hit the nail right on the head," he said in a hollow, haunted voice.
Mina got up from beside him. She grabbed another chair at the table and brought it close to her brother. After sitting down and taking his hands, she said softly, "Tell me what happened."
Rolf looked at her in silence for a long moment, and she could see he was debating about how much to tell her. She tried not to be offended by this. All their lives, her brother and she had been the closest confidantes; nothing was too sacred to be kept from the other, and both would never think of betraying the other. But Mina knew that, if he wanted to keep it to himself, it was not to spite her or leave her in the dark, but because he either thought he wasn't ready or it was for the best.
However, after a minute of contemplative silence, Rolf held her hands tighter and leaned forward, the expression in his eyes showing how important it was to keep this secret, and how haunted he was about it.
"The job they gave me…was to stand guard at the cell of a political prisoner. I should consider myself lucky. All I have to do is sit by the door, which is locked and I don't have the key to, so he can't escape. I can read, write, think, doze off…I should be glad to have this lazy job, but…" His expression became even more haunted. "It's in the cellar, at the end of this long, dark hallway…the air is so stuffy and oppressive and the light is so minimal…" He shook his head.
"Oh, brother…" murmured Mina, squeezing his hand. While she was thankful he hadn't been given a job that involved pushing others around – as most young Nazis were fond of doing – she hated the thought of her brother alone, day after day, in that terrible place.
"That's not the worst of it, Mina…" said Rolf, his voice quiet but ragged, his eyes shining with things Mina was too scared to name. "I…I know the prisoner – at least, I know who he is."
"What? Oh, how awful for you! Who is it?"
"…Captain Von Trapp."
Now Mina withdrew her hands so she could cover her mouth, her eyes widening in horror, mirroring her brother's expression. "Oh, my God…Rolf, no! But…what's he done? I don't understand."
Rolf shook his head and got up from the table, pacing in fury. "His crime is he won't join them! I knew the Captain wouldn't be a favorite with the Nazis after the Anschluss, but I never thought they would do something like that…perhaps I was naïve to think that."
"No, it makes you good," said Mina firmly, watching her brother.
Rolf continued to pace. "I can't stop thinking about his family, Mina, and her! Do they know at all? What have they been told? I…" He stopped and looked at his sister. "I have to see her now, Mina. I've been a coward and put this off for much too long, and I wish it hadn't taken this to make me come to my senses, but –"
"Better late than never," said Mina firmly, glad her brother had decided this. "I know how you've missed her, and I know you tried to do the right thing by keeping away from her." She looked at him sadly. "But it seems that they weren't safe no matter what you did."
Rolf's face began to crumple, and Mina immediately pulled her brother in for an embrace. Rolf didn't cry, but he came close, and managed to control himself while his sister held him. For so long he had to be the older one, the responsible one, to grow up for the sake of his sister; it was ironic, therefore, that only with Mina could he show his vulnerability, which was akin to any young child's that each human has.
When he felt calm enough, Mina kissed his cheek and looked him in the eye. "I'll make you some dinner before you go. You'll regret it later if you don't."
Rolf decided it would be best not to argue with her about this. However, as she unwrapped her arms from around him and made to move away, Rolf noticed something on Mina's bare forearm. He gently but firmly took it. "Mina, what's this?"
Mina winced and inwardly cursed that she had not rolled down her sleeves before meeting her brother. She tried to pull her arm away, but Rolf held it firmly as he examined the remnants of a burn. He looked at her with piercing blue eyes.
"Mina…what happened?" His tone left no room for escape or excuses.
She sighed. "It was nothing. Some boiling water spilled and got on my arm. Like today, I stupidly forgot to unroll my sleeves."
"You are the most careful of people anywhere, especially in the kitchen," said Rolf, his questioning becoming interrogating. "How did the boiling water spill on your arm?"
Mina looked away, closing her eyes tight, silently begging for Rolf to leave us alone. But he didn't – he turned her face back to him and waited for her to speak. She sighed in defeat and said very quietly, "Father was angry and yelling, tugged my arm while I was the kettle off and…"
Rolf's face became enraged, and Mina immediately tried to soothe it with her small hands. "Brother, please, let this pass. It wasn't serious, the burn is healing well, and angering him will cause only bad, not good."
"I ought to wring his neck…" Rolf muttered under his breath, which Mina unfortunately heard.
"Rolf, please," she pleaded softly, rubbing his temples. "Just let me make you some dinner, and then go and see Liesl. She's the one you need to see, to make sure is all right…"
Thankfully, her wise words cooled Rolf's anger, and he took several deep breaths to calm down. Then, he took Mina's hands in his and looked resolutely into her eyes. "He won't get away with this anymore, Mina. My next payday is tomorrow; I know we're close to the amount we both need to get out of here, out of Austria, away from all of these horrors. And I will never let anybody hurt you again."
Mina's eyes filled with tears and she rested her forehead against Rolf's. "I have never doubted that, brother, and I'm not about to start."
About an hour later, Rolf was riding his bike away from his house – praying that his father would not come home until Mina was sleeping – and towards the Von Trapp villa.
This had been, without a doubt, one of the worst days of his life. Only two other days could compare: the day of his mother's death, and the day his father's temper had physically lashed out at Mina for the first time. As he peddled, he also prayed that the dinner Mina had lovingly made for him would stay down. His lunch had come with the poor Captain's lunch, which Rolf had to slip through the slot in the door. The moment he had exited the building after the shift had ended, Rolf had emptied the contents of his stomach, and taken long deep breaths of the fresh open air to try and stop his shaking.
When Amsel had come down the hall with both lunches (Rolf's infinitely better than the Captain's), the seventeen-year-old had the overwhelming sensation that he, too, was a prisoner. He may not be locked in a cell and subject to beatings and isolation, but he was trapped. Trapped in a country that had chosen a madman to rule over it. Trapped in a home where he and his sister were subject to all possible abuse from a loveless father. Trapped financially (though Rolf was working his hardest to overcome that) which kept them in the country.
Trying to remember his mother's saying of counting blessings to calm himself, Rolf silently thanked God he did not have to work at his telegram job tonight. He also thanked God that, starting tomorrow, his shifts at that hell would be shorter in order to accommodate his other job. He knew that, very soon, he would have made enough money for him and Mina to escape. He didn't care if they would have to hitchhike or jump boxcars – somehow, someway, they would escape.
Looking out of her bedroom window, Liesl could easily see that this night was beautiful. The half-moon was shining brightly, surrounded by twinkling stars, over the grounds and the lake. The soft sounds of her two sleeping sisters' steady breathing from the nearby beds soothed Liesl somewhat. She was glad that she had some time to herself now.
She couldn't sleep; she didn't even feel tired. The day had been a whirlwind of every possible emotion: joy at the return of her beloved fraulein and best friend, sorrow and fear at the news of the Anschluss, worry and anger about the sudden departure of her father, and now the frustration of not knowing what the future would bring. She could only pray that everything would turn out all right in the end. Before Fraulein Maria, it would have been very hard for her to hope. But if there was one thing her return today, as well as her presence in her life and her family's life, had taught Liesl, it was this: there is always hope.
Suddenly, movement on the grounds below caught her eye. A familiar figure appeared, riding a bike and stopping below her window. The figure got off it and waved at her almost frantically.
Liesl silently gasped, seeing his light blond hair glimmer in the moonlight. Rolf! Without thinking twice, Liesl waved back and left the room quietly but quickly.
Though Liesl felt torn between her excitement of seeing Rolf again and the anger he felt at his silence over the past weeks. Both were equally strong and pushed against each other. But both emotions demanded answers to questions, and she wanted them now. After the drama of today, she was eager to have at least one mystery in her life solved.
After she had quietly left the villa and came down off the terrace, she tied her robe tight around her and spotted Rolf in the same place she had seen him. "Rolf? Is that you?" she called. Both excitement and anger were palpable in her – until his face became visible and clear in the moonlight when she came closer.
The look on his face read like that of a man who had just escaped from hell.
"Liesl!" Rolf exclaimed in such great relief when she reached him, and then embraced her. He held her tightly too him, as if she might be torn away, murmuring, "Thank God, thank God." The relief and vulnerability in his voice couldn't be denied.
Liesl gladly held him to her, trying her best to soothe him. She'd never seen anybody look so scared before. "I'm right here," she murmured. "I'm right here."