Free No Light by Michael Costello

again and this time connected with the back of his head. He moaned, stumbled forward and fell to the floor. I turned to the gendarme who tried to run but I was quickly upon him and brought the handle of the stick down on his back. He screamed and fell spread-eagled on the ground. He tried to raise himself and I swung again, this time connecting with the back of his neck. A guttural sound escaped his lips as he collapsed unconscious. I ran back to Camille but stopped short of touching her. I was terrified and almost paralysed with fear. Her killer lay motionless on the floor and I noticed the pistol lying nearby. I contemplated using it on myself; my only thought was to be with her. I resisted the urge to scream. I resisted the urge to use the pistol on Hartmaan and the gendarme. I knelt before her half expecting to see her smile, half expecting the scene to rewind, for Hartmaan to stand up and pat me on the back and tell me it was all a practical joke, for my father to return laughing with the gendarmes. Nothing changed. Camille still lay motionless, her life destroyed. I dropped the stick, placed a kiss on my fingertips and planted it gently on her lips. I ran from the apartment. In the hall, doors lay ajar and items of clothing lay everywhere. I ran down the heavy oak staircase almost stumbling on occasion until I reached the ground floor. The large wooden outer door was open. I heard shouting and screaming beyond. I took a deep breath and ran into the street.
    I was stunned by light.

Ralf
     
     
     
     
     
    In time we hate that which we often fear
     
    (William Shakespeare)
     
     

7.
Berlin, 1926
     
    Silke gripped my hand tightly and dragged me along Ersteiner Strabe towards school. We were late. The wind continuously forced me to blink tears away and small pellets of snow stung my face. I was so cold. My short trousers were inadequate and my socks were too thin. My hand was numb in Silke’s grasp and my satchel bounced wearily on my back. I wore a short coat with the collar up but without the scarf Grandmamma Charlotte gave me last Christmas. I hadn’t worn it since Otto Becker called me a girl the day I first brought it to school. Until then I had liked it. I liked the colours – bars of red blue yellow pink and green, but Otto just laughed and began calling me a sissy. Of course the others joined in like baaing sheep. I cried that day and mamma told me to stand up for myself. I didn’t know how to.
    Silke rushed me through the door. I was glad of the heat. She snatched my blue school cap off my head and shoved it in my satchel. After a short conversation regarding my lateness with Frau Duerr the school secretary, she commenced the futile and embarrassing ritual of smoothing my hair, straightening my coat and slobbering on my cheek before dashing back out into the snow. Frau Duerr then led me along the corridor towards my teacher Herr Frey’s room. We called her The Ghost because of her appearance. When we entered the classroom Herr Frey gave me one of his unsympathetic looks and beckoned me to my seat beside Otto who was tittering uncontrollably behind his hand. I sat down and used my elbow forcefully on his ribs causing him to scream dramatically. This prompted The Ghost to rush to my seat and give me such a slap behind the head, my ears rang.
    Ten minutes later, my head still smarting from Frau Duerr’s assault; I listened to Herr Frey telling us a story
     
    Once upon a time there was a small girl who was strong willed and forward and whenever her parents said anything to her she disobeyed them. One day she said to her parents. I have heard so much about Frau Trude. Someday I want to go to her place. People say amazing things are seen there and very strange things happen there. I have become very curious.
    Her parents strictly forbade her telling her that Frau Trude was a wicked woman who committed godless acts.
    “If you go there you will no longer be our child.”
    But the girl paid no attention to her