‘Don’t you want to know why we killed the guy?’
‘I guess you must a’ had a pretty good reason.’
‘We killed him because he was about to rape our mum.’
‘I s’pose they don’t come much better than dat.’
Stone told the story. Surprising himself by taking pleasure in divulging information that had not even been sought. He, who for twenty years had made a habit of giving nothing away until forced to. He told Billie about killing Karlsruhen and about the buttons he’d cut off the SA man for Dagmar. About how triumphant she had been and how she’d kissed him and let him touch her.
‘Sounds like a dangerous girl to be in love with if you ask me,’ Billie observed.
‘She was excited,’ Stone replied defensively. ‘We’d drawn blood. Stood up and fought back. Don’t judge her — they made her lick pavements and they murdered her father.’
‘I ain’t judging her, Paul,’ Billie replied. ‘I don’t judge anyone.’
Then he told her the rest of the story of that night.
About how he’d arrived home to discover the truth about his adoption.
‘I just felt so completely alone. Deserted. They were my family, my whole life, and suddenly I was no longer a part of the single greatest element of their lives, the terrible danger they were in. I was alone. It was so strange. I’d decided so completely that I was a Jew, you see.’
‘And suddenly you weren’t?’
‘No.’
‘You told me you were.’
‘Yes. That’s what I’ve told people ever since I came to this country. But I’m not. Sorry about that.’
‘Don’ matter to me.’ Billie shrugged. ‘Jew or non-Jew is two exactly similar t’ings as far as I’m concerned.’
Stone drained his beer, took Billie’s glass and was about to go to the bar for another round. Billie put her hand on his arm to stop him.
‘What’s your real name, Paul? Just so I know.’
Stone smiled.
‘Otto,’ he replied. ‘My real name is Otto.’
Into Exile
OTTO WAS TAKEN from his family by a female council official and a policeman. They informed him that as a ‘racially valuable’ individual he was to be housed with a decent Nazi family. They told him he must come immediately.
‘Bring no money nor any significant possessions,’ the council woman explained. ‘You are coming home to the Reich and the Reich will support you. You need nothing from these Jews.’
‘My family,’ Otto said.
‘You have been deceived,’ the woman replied. ‘The Jew will only look after his own. All else is trickery.’
Otto went meekly. He kissed Frieda briefly, ignoring the distaste on the face of the government woman and then shook Wolfgang and Paulus by the hand.
‘Please, ma’am,’ Frieda asked, ‘are we not even to know where Otto will live?’
‘That information is of no concern to you,’ the woman replied sharply. ‘Your parenthood of this boy is illegal under the law and you no longer have any rights or interest in him whatsoever. You are to have absolutely nothing to do with him from this moment forth. Come, Otto.’
‘He is our son!’ Frieda cried, finding it difficult to keep control. ‘He has lived in this same apartment for all of his fifteen years.’
‘That has been his misfortune,’ the woman said, ‘but his Jew nightmare is over. He is a German now.’
Otto went to the door without even glancing back. It had already been agreed between him and Paulus that he would show no regret or affection for fear of provoking the Gestapo.
As the door of their apartment closed behind Otto, Frieda literally sank to the floor. Her still lovely face, habitually lined with care. Now contorted with grief.
It occurred to Frieda that her heart had been broken in this same place before. Leaving a sadness so great and all-consuming that the empty space it made would remain empty all her days.
When had that been?
Of course she remembered. In the hospital, in 1920 when the old nurse had taken away the little shrivelled grey bundle. Then she had felt as she felt now.
And it had happened again. Once more she had lost a son, and for the second time Paulus had lost his twin.
Outside in the corridor Otto said nothing as he entered the familiar, creaking, clanking lift with the woman and policeman and descended to the ground floor. Still silent he walked with his captors out of the front door and into the well of the building.
‘What about my bike?’ he asked, speaking for the first time.
‘Perhaps it will be sent for,’ the woman said. ‘I do not know.’
Otto got into the police car and allowed himself to be driven away.
He did not speak again as the car traversed the familiar streets through which the Saturday Club had roamed on so many happy yesterdays.
‘Cheer up, son,’ the policeman said. ‘A year from now you’ll have forgotten you ever knew those Jews.’
Otto waited until they were completely out of Friedrichshain before he acted but then he did so decisively. As the car pulled up at some lights, he simply opened the door and jumped out.
‘
He didn’t know where he was going and he did not expect to get far. It was the principle of the thing. The first protest. From day one Otto wanted them to know that they had made a mistake. That they had caught a live one and that their lives would have been easier if they’d left him where he was.
As he ran a whistle blew behind him. The copper had leapt out of the car and was shouting that the boy should be stopped. Almost immediately Otto found himself confronted by diligent citizens responding to the policeman’s call. Otto smashed his fist into the face of the biggest person blocking his way and as the man staggered back Otto buried his boot between the same unfortunate citizen’s legs. By which time the policeman had caught up. As he reached out to grab at Otto he too got a fist in the face.
‘Fuck you!’ Otto shouted once more.
The other passers-by who had been intent on stopping Otto fell back. Anybody who was prepared to physically attack a police officer in broad daylight was clearly out of control and they did not want to be the next person in his line of fire. Otto may have been only fifteen but he was very strong and an experienced fighter. He was also motivated by a blind fury which was plain for all to see. People stood aside and let him pass.
Otto ran on, pushing his way through the busy street, turning blindly left and right. It could not last long of course. Pretty soon other local beat officers responding to the whistles and the hubbub had joined the pursuit and before long Otto was surrounded and subdued.
They took him to the cells of the local police station where they beat him up pretty badly, but when he was brought before a judge Otto was let off with a caution. The council woman explained the situation and it was decided that you could not expect a lad brought up by vermin to become civilized in a single morning.
There was, however, no question of Otto going to a foster home now. It was clear that the Jews had turned him into a savage beast and that no normal family could control him. The party, however, could and would, and it was decided between the court, the Friedrichshain council and the local SS that Otto would be sent to a
These academies had been set up shortly after the Nazis came to power and had immediately gained for
