Joseph Kanon: A Good German

“Like me.”

“That’s right, like you. Come on, you’d better hurry if you want a window,” he said, shooing him to Rosen.

“Don’t forget to wave,” Lena said as they started down the stairs. “I’ll be watching.”

She turned, acknowledging Professor Brandt for the first time by touching his sleeve. “So it’s good you came. We can see over there,” she said, turning from the group toward the big window.

“You watch. I said goodbye. Now to you too, it seems,” he said, glancing toward Emil. He raised his hand, stopping her before she could say anything, then leaned over and kissed her lightly on the forehead. He looked at her for a second, then nodded, a mute goodbye, and started back toward the amber hall.

Shaeffer had checked their names on the list and was now waiting for Emil, who still stood motionless, his eyes on Lena. “Come on, Emil,” he said, impatient, then turned to Breimer. “I’ll see you in Frankfurt. Thanks for everything.”

“Died in the war?” Emil called to Lena. “That’s how we leave each other?”

She turned back, looking at him angrily. “No, I’m leaving you with Peter. Now go.”

“With Peter? What does that mean? What do you mean by that?” Frustrated, his voice louder.

Jake looked over at Lena, her face still hard, and for an instant he thought she might do it, as easily as Gunther’s waitress asking for a check. Then she glanced at Professor Brandt and lowered her head.

“Nothing. Like the rest of it. It means nothing. Go away.” She walked over to the window, not looking back.

“Come on, Emil,” Shaeffer said, leading him down the stairs.

“Well, that’s a hell of a thing,” Breimer said to Jake. “You ought to talk to her. Acting like that. Who the hell does she think—”

“One more word and I’ll flatten you. I won’t even wait for the next election to vote you out.”

Breimer looked at him, startled. “Now, don’t get all hot. No disrespect meant. I suppose under the circumstances- Still, that’s no way to act. After everything he’s been through. Hell, after everything you’ve been through. Joe told me what you did for us. I know, you like to think you’re a wise-ass-you are, too,” he said, glancing up. “You’re a hard man to like, you know that? But then we get down to the short hairs and you came through. I take my hat off to you for that one.” He stopped, the words sounding hollow even to him. “Anyway, we got him, that’s the main thing. But these people—” He looked toward Lena. “I’ll never understand them if I live to be a hundred. You do everything for them—”

“What are we doing for them?” Jake said quietly. “I’d like to know.”

“Why, we’re helping them, that’s what,” Breimer said easily. “Got to, now. Who else is going to do it, the Russians? Look at this place. You can see what they’ve been through.”

Jake looked down at the runway. A faint clunk of propellers, Emil and Shaeffer hurrying past the ground crew to the plane. Across the field the light had come up, pale and dusty, hanging over the miles of broken houses.

“Do you have any idea what happened here?” he said, half to himself. “I mean, any idea?”

“I suppose you’re going to tell me. Well, I know all about that, so let me tell you something. I like to look ahead. What’s past is past. All these people want to do is forget. You can’t blame them for that.”

“So that’s what we’re going to do,” Jake said, suddenly tired, his shoulder starting to ache again. “Help them forget.”

“You want to put it that way, yes, I guess we are. The good Germans, anyway.”

“Like Brandt,” Jake said, watching him board the plane.

“Certainly like Brandt. Who else?”

“One of the good ones,” Jake said, moving away from the window and glancing over toward Lena, standing with her hand half raised, ready to wave. He turned to Breimer. “Is that what you think?”

Breimer looked at him, eyes steady. “He has to be, doesn’t he?” he said smoothly. “He’s one of ours.