Midnight Hunter

At midday I go to the lunchroom on the eighth floor. While I wait for Ana to join me I entertain myself by thinking of the life I’m leaving behind. This old Evony would continue to solder in the factory five days a week. She would attend the military parade every October 7 to celebrate the Republic. She would choose a husband from among the men who live in her neighborhood or work at this factory.

I look around at the young men eating their lunches, sitting in small groups, laughing and talking. I know most of them by name. Some I like quite well and some very well. Many of us used to go to Free German Youth meetings together and in the summer we’d be sent out to the countryside to work on farms or go on nature walks. There would be dances, and I would have partners. Some boys even seemed to quite like me, though Ana was, and is, always preferred for her honey-blonde hair and long legs. I never wanted to leave the dances and go for a walk in the moonlight with any of the boys, or dance every dance with just one. I liked each of them, but there was never any spark.

That’s because my husband’s in the West, I think with a smile. He’ll be unlike any of the men I’ve known in my life. He’ll have something special. I don’t know what that something will be but I’ll know it when I see it. He’ll be remarkable, the man I fall in love with.

“What’s that smile about?” Ana plops down into the seat opposite me and starts to unwrap a paper packet of sandwiches.

My daydream pops and I remember what I have to tell her. Leaning across the table I whisper, “Never mind that. Something happened last night. Something bad.” Immediately her face drains of color. Bad things that happen in the night usually have something to do with the Stasi. “It’s Frau Schäfer. She was taken by der Mitternachtsjäger.”

She can’t help her cry of shock and dismay. She’s too careful to say anything out loud but I know what she is thinking: Frau Schäfer was so close to getting out. I tell her about the encounter on the street, with Frau Schäfer looking at the Wall and crying, and me not being able to get her inside before Volker saw us.

Ana’s silent for a long time, staring at her sandwiches. “It was because she was looking at the Wall, wasn’t it? It wasn’t because of…anything else?” She gives me a meaningful look. It wasn’t because he knows about the tunnel?

I’d considered this, but there was no way Frau Schäfer could have known about the plan and still been that upset. She’s not that good an actor. I shake my head.

Ana picks up her rye and cheese sandwich but doesn’t take a bite. “Ugh, it’s too awful to think about, her in prison. Or someplace worse. Somewhere that awful man took her. What’s he like, up close?”

I picture Volker standing in the street. “Unsettling. He’s a foot taller than most of his men and he was like a hungry lion, sizing us up.”

“But he didn’t go after you?”

“No, it was very strange. Perhaps he knew that there was no hurry, that he could come back for Frau Schäfer later. I mean, it’s not like she was going anywhere.” I mutter under my breath, “Not last night, anyway.”

Ana takes a bite and chews for a moment, and then says, “Why just her though? Why not you? I mean, if she looked guilty you must have as well.”

I think back to that moment and recall Frau Schäfer’s tear-streaked, terrified face. How had I looked? “I don’t think I looked guilty,” I say slowly. “In fact I think I looked angry. That was probably stupid of me, to show how much I hate him.”

“I bet it’s been a long time since anyone looked at Volker with anything but pure terror. Schwein.” Ana tears a shred off her lunch wrapper and balls it up thoughtfully. “You know, there are some women on my floor who think he’s handsome. Can you believe it? Marta saw him outside a State reception last year and said he looked very gallant in his dress uniform. Even kissed a lady’s hand. But who cares what he looks like when you consider what he does.”

I snort with laughter, mostly at the expression of disgust on Ana’s face. “Kiss her hand? More likely bite her

fingers off.” Volker’s a big man, broad and impressive, and he’s got strong features. The mouth I glimpsed last night was firm with purpose but if he smiled I have the feeling he could look quite pleasant. I imagine him in his dress uniform bowing over my hand and kissing it, and then shake myself. Constant daydreaming is a side-effect of the repetitive work we do but I will not start daydreaming about der Mitternachtsjäger.

Between misery over Frau Schäfer and nerves over our impending escape, the next two days pass lightning fast and in a rollercoaster of emotion. I barely sleep at night and I can’t look at Dad when we’re out on the street or Ana when we’re at the factory because I’m sure my excited, tense face will betray us.

Before I know it it’s Friday night, eleven-forty-five, just half an hour before we’re to meet in the basement of the bakery. Dad’s been pacing up and down our kitchen all evening, smoking cigarettes and staring at the linoleum. Frau Schäfer being taken has shaken him badly and I know he thinks he failed her. I’ve never seen him like this and I hope that he’ll find a way to calm down before we have to go out onto the street.

Ana and my dad’s best friend Ulrich have arrived, and the plan is that Ana and I will go together to the bakery, and Dad will go separately with Ulrich. If either pair are stopped we’ll tell the Stasi we’re going to a friend’s apartment. As it’s Friday night this is plausible.

Ana and I sit in silence at the kitchen table, and I expect that my face is as pale and tense as hers. Ulrich, a ginger-haired man with a thin but friendly mouth, is leaning against the cooker, cracking his knuckles. He’s watching Dad and frowning, and I can see he doesn’t like how rattled he is either.

The silence is so thick and tense that when Dad speaks, we all jump. “I want Evony to come with me.”

I gape at him. He’s changing the plan, now, at the very last minute? I want to ask him why and what he’s worried about, but fear that we’re being listened in on stops me. Instead, I say, “Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Glancing at Ulrich and Ana I see that they’re just as perplexed by this as me.

“Yes, I want you with me. Let’s go now.” And he hustles me out of the kitchen, his face tight and closed. I barely have time to wave to Ana and mouth see you there before he closes the apartment door behind us.

The night is dark and bitterly cold. I wait until we’re down on the street and crunching through the snow before I say anything. Dad’s walking quickly, his shoulders up around his ears. “This wasn’t a good idea. Ana and Ulrich being together will look suspicious. They’re not related and they don’t look like they’d be friends.” He doesn’t answer and I lose patience with him and hiss, “This is exactly what you warned us about, getting nervous and doing something that might give us away.”

Dad rounds on me suddenly, a wild expression on his face. “You’re all I have left in this world and I’m not losing you at the eleventh hour. You’re my daughter and I want you with me. Is that so hard to understand?”

I do understand, but that doesn’t mean I like it. “You didn’t fail her, you know,” I say, meaning Frau Schäfer. “Things like that happen all the time. She was unlucky.” And foolish, but I won’t speak ill of her now she’s gone.

Dad just shakes his head. “Let’s get moving. There’ll be time for talking on the other side.”

But it’s not as easy as that. We run into a patrol and have to hide in the shadows for a long time. I can see from Dad’s anxious face that he’s thinking what I’m thinking: if we can’t get to the bakery tonight then we’ll lose that escape route. A dozen people not turning up for work in the morning will tip the Stasi off that there’s been an escape. They’ll be out in full force tomorrow and will find the tunnel in no time.

Thankfully the soldiers eventually march away and we’re on the move again. When the bakery comes into sight my heart leaps. Dad squeezes my arm, relief washing over his face. “Make sure you stay close to me, Schätzen.”