The White Rose

The White Rose

Tuesday, April 26, 2011

Memories VI

The sound of a cough startled us both, and Sophie seemed to waken from her revere. Looking up, I noticed a dashing young man standing at the door to our compartment, awkwardly holding his suitcase under one arm and his ticket clenched in the other. We’d just pulled up to another station, and in our deep editing session, Sophie and I had failed to notice our new compartment companion. Feeling helpful, I sprang up from my seat and took his luggage from him, hoisting it up towards the rack on the wall. To my immense embarrassment, I hadn’t hefted the baggage up with enough force, and it came plummeting back downward, thumping me squarely in the stomach and knocking me into the strange young man. Stumbling back into the hall, he caught me before crashing to the ground. Blushing furiously, I extracted myself from his grasp, and then offered him my hand. He hoisted himself up, then took my hand and brought it to his mouth, kissing it lightly. This only served to deepen my blush as he said gallantly.
“I’m Willi Graf. My apologies…” he trailed off awkwardly, not sure who to apologize to, and what for. I hastily filled in the silence with
“Beatrix. I’m Beatrix Rosenthal. I should be the one apologizing. I didn’t mean to drop your suitcase like that, and then knock you…” I trailed off, too mortified to continue.
“No need to vex yourself. It was all in the pursuit of being helpful,” he hurried to assure me, then enquired “Where are you traveling to? Please do not answer if you feel it inappropriate.” I smiled in what I hoped was a charming manner and replied
Munich University. My friend and I will be attending there next week. She’s just a year older than I am, as she had hoped working as a kindergarten teacher would suffice for her year of service, but it turned out she needed to work another year as a nurse in order to be able to receive credit. (Jud Newborn, Annette Dumbach)” The young man’s smile brightened considerably.
“You don’t say!” he exulted, “That’s where I’m headed too! Except, unlike your friend, I’m a year young. They had me skip a grade.” He said modestly.
“Skip a grade! I didn’t know that was possible!” I said admiringly, fluttering my eyelashes. Willi’s confused look made me feel like an imbecile, and I quit my embarrassing antics. I silently cursed Alzie Bergmann, a friend in twelfth grade who had taught me that the key to a man’s heart is through your eyelashes.
Willi laughed as I turned beet red again, and then offered me his arm, escorting me back into the compartment. Sophie looked at us as we walked in, raising an eyebrow in question, and then, noticing our interlocked arms, her mouth twisted into a barely suppressed smile. I hadn’t thought it possible to turn a deeper shade of red, but Sophie’s assuming look made it possible.
“Willi, this is my friend, Sophie Scholl - Soph, this is Willi Graf,” I said, shooting her a warning look. “He’s going to Munich too!” That sobered her up, and she looked at him with real interest.
“Nice to meet you, Willi. Funny coincidence that we’re in the same compartment, isn’t it? But then again, there are so many going to Munich. My brother, Hans Scholl, is going there too.” Sophie said, smiling at Willi.
“Hans? I’ll keep an eye out for him. It’ll be nice to know someone before going in. Thank you.” He replied, and then took his seat. The rest of the train ride passed in interesting conversation, though towards the end it became hard for me to follow. Sophie and Willi had apparently unearthed the fact that they shared many of the same political views, and were talking in depth about philosophy and Hitler’s reign. I resigned myself, and pulled out The Treasure of the Sierra Madre - a book by B. Traven (New World Encyclopedia) who was one of my favorite authors. As the train pulled up into the station, we said our farewells to Willi, and extracted a promise from him that once everything had settled down, he would come and visit. Sophie and I were assigned separate lodgings, and cheerfully promised to stop by each other’s tiny apartment regularly.

No comments:

Post a Comment