A Cup Of Tea

“I’ve waited a long time to meet you and the day’s finally here. So let’s get started.” Andrea said while visibly nervous, her palms sweaty, lips chapped from biting them as she waited in the cafe surrounded by three pens, notepads, tape recorder and cue cards.

“Mind if I order a cup of tea first?” Elaine, her estranged grandmother asked.

“Oh. Waitress.” Andrea beckoned while waiving her hand hoping to get the waitress’s attention.

The waitress walks over and “Hi, I’d like some chamomile tea. What about you Elaine?” Andrea asks.

“I’d like Schwarztee. Oh I’m sorry black tea, with a touch of honey my dear.” Her smile radiating throughout the pocket friendly cafe.

Andrea, sat there mesmerized at how gracious a beauty she was. She had a full head of white hair that was perfectly placed in plaits and then wrapped in a perfect bun, with not a strand out of place. Her nails polished and her cuticles immaculate. Her skin glowing. Her chiffon scarf elegantly draped on her shoulder secured with a mockingbird brooch. Her cashmere top, a soft rose pink. Her skirt perfectly pleated. Her posture impeccable. Demeanor, flawlessly aristocratic.

I’m not sure a Queen of any origin would have been able to compete with her. Especially someone like Andrea who had misbuttoned her blouse, had chipped nail polish, frizzy brunette hair unevenly cut in a bang and placed in too thin of a ponytail, with glasses that were far too big for her face and an oversized handbag that looked like it had been through a storm.

“Dearest, are you okay?” Elaine asked.

“Ah, yeah, I mean yes I am.” The quite embarrassed Andrea utters as she watches Elaine drink her tea by first placing a napkin on her lap, then taking small sips at a time with all five fingers perched on the tiny tea cup handle. The complete opposite of what she had done her entire life.

“So Elaine, you mind if we begin?”

“No, not at all dear.”

“So, please tell me what is your complete name?”

“It’s Elaine Edna Kudosky.”

“Have you ever been married?”

“Yes I have.”

“To who, I mean whom?”

“Gottfried Erwell Himmler.”

“Would you mind telling me about him and what he was like. I’ve only found that he was a Nazi General.”

“You must be good at your job to have found that out.” Andrea blushed slightly. “It all started one summer I had just turned 16 and my parents decided to take me to Berlin for my birthday. While there, we visited parks, museums, and even went to a concert and the frozen pond in Horst-Dohm for ice skating, which changed my life forever.”

“That’s where you met Gottfried? Andrea asked.

“Yes indeed. I remember it like it were yesterday. The frozen pond was located in the middle of the cherry blossom tree park, where pink petals overwhelmed the landscape and trees umbrellaed pathways. The smell of caramel strudels saturated the air and as I walked with my mother and father sipping on some peppermint tea before preparing to step foot on the ice, I saw Gottfried walking up towards me. He was so handsome.” Elaine began to blush. “He really was. He was very tall, had dimples, dark blonde hair and striking blue eyes.”

“I can tell you were smitten by him.” Andrea said.

“Yes, I was..”

“Did anyone notice?”

“Thankfully not. As in those days, a female could have a tainted reputation if their eyes were found wandering in the direction of a man for too long. So I hid my blushing cheeks as best I could by pretending to drink my tea.”

“What did you do afterwards?”

“Well once he passed us, we continued on our way to the frozen pond and we got our boots and made it to the ice. The entire time I skated I thought of him. I replayed his face and told myself I would never forget it, but my heart sunk at the thought of never seeing him again.”

“But you guys did.” Andrea inputted.

“Yes. The day after, when my parents and I went to see the Prima Ballerina Anya Engel dance her last dance. The lights at the Schaupielhaus shined so bright that it lit up the entire block, and we had time to take in the sight because we were about 30 minutes early. However, upon joining the line for the admission booth, my father began talking to a colleague and once I saw them take out their cigars, I knew my chances of meeting Anya prior to her performance would be impossible if I waited. So I discreetly asked my father for my ticket which he obliged. I hurried my way towards the admission stand and in doing so we bumped into one another, causing both of our tickets to drop. Once he retrieved them and stood up, he said ““You’re the hazel-haired beauty from the park yesterday that was an incredible sight as you skated on that pond.”” I responded with a humble nod. We ended up having each other’s tickets, but only realized when the attendant announced the names, which made us chuckle. We entered and went to our assigned seats, and the entire time at the theatre I felt him watching me.

To be quite honest, I had never taken notice of a boy before, I simply wasn’t supposed to. Even though everything I learned was preparing me for being a wonderful housewife to a successful business man, of my father’s choosing who he came across in being a Jewish banker. However, that was no longer the case. I took notice of him when he would discretely stand on my street on the opposite side of the road, hoping I would come by the window. I took notice of him when I signed up for an all female poetry lesson class I begged my parents to go to, that afterwards, before heading home I would go to this little cafe down the street named Bäckerfreude that had the best apfelstrudel or for you, apple strudel that one could find. I’d sit down, eat and write a note that I’d leave for him on the table disguised in the napkin stand, which he would read, and respond to. Then after he left, I’d act like I forgot something and go back inside to get his note. I even got my mother to go with me to the park so I could practice my landscape painting techniques, to which she obliged and I chose a specific tree to paint beside every time, because I could leave notes for him in the hole of the tree’s trunk.”

“Wow. That’s crazy. I mean interesting.”

“Well, yes. We shared a lot throughout the years and it was obvious we were in love with one another. Something that felt so beautiful and came so natural was actually quite complicated. For I knew both our families would disapprove but out of the two, I was scared more of Gottfried’s father General Joseph Himmler, who proudly served along side Hitler in the German army and was now his right hand man in the Nazi reign, serving as chief of the Luftwaffe.”

Andrea listened intensively while on the edge of her seat.

“Before the Berlin Wall was erected and things got imminently more dangerous for Jews, I got news from my mother, that my father had found someone appropriate for me to marry and that the wedding would be in two months time. I told Gottfried and a few days afterwards he asked for me to come to the frozen pond where we first met, and with flowers and a harmonica in hand he proposed to me. Of course I said yes and about a week later we secretly packed our bags and went to the country side and got married. About a month and a half later I found out I was pregnant. My mother slapped me across my face when she noticed my dresses no longer fit and she found my wedding band under my pillow.

When she informed my father, I was questioned and well I had no choice but to tell them about Gottfried. They were furious and according to them I was a traitor for tying our bloodlines. I explained to him that Gottfried wasn’t like that but my father said ““Elaine, you naive girl, he may not have a choice. Don’t you know his father will execute the both of you to prove a point to Hitler and the rest of Europe, and if he doesn’t, the young man you speak of will definitely be required to follow in his father’s foot steps. He will not be the Gottfried you know for very much longer. Instead he will be General Himmler of the Nazi reign.””

We kept our marriage a secret from Chief Himmler as things intensified between the Nazis and Jews, to the point where many successful business men took their wealth and fled. Gottfried who was now serving under his father kept me informed of the plans and he and my father came to the agreement that it was time for me to go and on one spring night I did. I was hurried into a car with some documents, a new name and a few valuables and was taken to an airplane which left for the Philippines. I wrote to my parents and Gottfried, and for a few months I received their reply. However, once the Berlin wall was completed, Gottfried wrote me and told me my parents refused his help in leaving, and were now in a concentration camp.

I gave birth to your mother about three months after and once she got old enough to understand, I told her about Germany, it’s culture and our family history. She hated the idea of having Nazi blood running through her veins and blamed me for it, but her father she saw as unforgivable. I tried to explain that he had a good heart and was a gentle soul, but was unfortunately the son of a man who gave him no option other than wearing that swastika or being killed but she couldn’t see that.

Eventually she left for America and I never heard from her until when she told me that you were asking about me and she realized that not allowing you to know me was her robbing you of your history. So here I am.”

“So what happened to Gottfried?” Andrea inquired.

"I don’t know dear. The last I heard was he hung himself just shy of your mother’s fifth birthday. He couldn’t bare the thought of all the atrocities committed and that his hands had blood on them also, even if it was as a result of force. However, I don’t think of him in that light. At least I try not to. I think about the man I fell in love with, the man I married and the man that ushered your mother and therefore you into this world."

Andrea sat there, with her lips quivering and tears streaming down her face because she had come to realize she wasn’t just interviewing a Holocaust survivor but instead she was graced by the presence of her grandmother and what she shared wasn’t a ‘great story’ it was her, history.