Between Worlds 4: What Friends Do

“That’s not all I have to show you,” Maria said. She pulled a postcard out of her satchel.

“What is that?” Elisabeth took the postcard. The picture was of a rather large, plain house with two floors of small windows.

“A cigar factory from Harrisburg.”

Elisabeth gasped. “Is this where Tata works?”

“Turn it over.” Elisabeth jumped out of her chair.

Tata had written!

To my dear family,

I trust you received my first letter. I have not received your reply yet. But when I saw this postcard, and knew Maria would be sent a gift, I had to ask if I could include this. The factory I work in looks like this one. I am earning well and am saving all I can. I hope you are all doing well. I also know my Golden One will be confirmed soon. Study hard, like I know you can, Elisabeth. Jesus is watching. And please give my regards to my brother.

Love,

Your Tata

Golden One was what Tata called Elisabeth sometimes. She bent over and wrapped her arms around Maria, who was still sitting. “I can’t wait to show Mammi and my brother and sisters!” She took one step toward the door and stopped.

“What?” Maria asked. “Is something wrong?”

Elisabeth sat back down. “Mammi got into a fight outside church today with Tata’s family. This afternoon, Mammi forbade me from having anything to do with them again, and now Tata asks in his postcard to give his regards to them. I don’t want to get Mammi upset again.” Especially with her baby, she thought, though she couldn’t say that.

An uncomfortable silence followed. Maria intertwined her fingers and stared at her hands. She looked like she wanted to say something but was too scared to.

“What is it?” Elisabeth asked.

Maria still stared at her hands.

“Best friends tell each other the truth.”

Maria smoothed out her apron, but she still would not look up. “People are saying that you should not be spending time with Georg if you know what’s good for you.”

Elisabeth could hardly believe her ears. She and her cousin were the topic of the rumour mill? “What’s good for me? What’s that supposed to mean?”

Maria cautiously looked up, scratched her nose and ran her hand over her braided hair. Was it that serious that Elisabeth’s best friend couldn’t answer her question directly?

“It means...you’ll have a hard time finding a good husband if Georg is one of your friends.”

Elisabeth banged her fist on the table. “He’s a member of my family! What do they expect me to do: get rid of him?”

Maria jumped in her chair at Elisabeth’s outburst. Elisabeth tucked a few wisps of hair behind her ears and lowered her chin. “I’m sorry,” she said in a quieter voice. “I just don’t see why this is anyone’s business.”

“They’re afraid Georg will kill anyone he doesn’t like. No one would want to marry someone... associated... with him.”

“Why...? How...?” Dozens of questions formed in Elisabeth’s mind, but they all jumbled into one mess that couldn’t untangle itself, leaving her speechless.

Maria adjusted her apron again. “When he gets all crazy, he sometimes pretends to shoot people. People are saying he’s imagining who he’ll kill next.”

“People? What people?” Elisabeth wanted names.

“Wagner Anna said she heard it from Tiny Hay, who’s of course cousins with Stefan, who’s Georg’s only friend, so he may have said something, but Omi heard from Hagel Samuel who heard it from Meier Josef who actually saw it, but I think he also heard it from Müller Anna who also told—”

“All right,” Elisabeth said. “In other words, everyone.”

Maria leaned in, looking a little perplexed. “Haven’t you seen him? He has at least one episode a week, though I hear lately it’s been more.”

Elisabeth sighed. She disliked gossip, but at the same time, what else was there to talk about? She explained the one time she had seen Georg collapse in a fit of shakes in his home and how she had seen her aunt slap him in a futile attempt to force him to stop. “But he didn’t look like he was shooting anyone—he looked like he was seeing something horrible.”

“Probably what will happen to him if he does kill someone.” Elisabeth gave Maria a disapproving look.“Fine, fine, that was too harsh. But what else would he see? How many men went to war and came back fine? Look at your father.”

Elisabeth had to admit that Maria was right. Tata had been to war, and although he never talked about it, he didn’t shout out like his nephew or collapse—as Mammi had once described Georg—like a sack of potatoes.

“I feel sorry for your father,” Maria continued. “To be related to someone like that, and who’s the oldest son in his own family, no less. All your uncle’s land will go to him instead of your fine family.” She shook her head. “That must be embarrassing.”

Elisabeth hadn’t thought of it that way before. If Mammi didn’t want her spending time with Tata’s family, and Tata was embarrassed by Georg’s behaviour, then maybe she should obey their wishes. Tata probably just wanted Elisabeth to pass on his greetings to be polite. But what could she do about the fact that Georg had helped her out several times precisely because Tata was away?

“No, Maria, that can’t make sense. Tata and Konrad-Bátschi don’t get along—everyone knows that—but Tata has always tried to at least be nice to him and his family, or if not nice, then at least polite. But Georg helped me on our fields on Friday, and with the pigs and all of that mess. Never once did he look like he was going to kill someone. Not even Hagel Samuel.”

Maria’s expression became serious. “Lissika, you see so much good in people, I think you sometimes aren’t careful enough. Just because Georg is good for a few minutes once in a while doesn’t mean he isn’t crazy. I even heard some people say they might stop bringing their shoes to your family, especially because you forced Hagel Samuel to work with him.”

Elisabeth jumped out of her chair. “What?! Because Hagel Samuel couldn’t keep his son in line to properly fix our animal stalls?” She paced up and down the room.“What would they have me do? Fix the stalls myself ? They have no idea what’s happening here.” She shot a look up atthe crucifix. Jesus, how can You let this happen?

“What do you mean?” Maria asked.

Elisabeth realized she’d almost told Mammi’s secret. “Just... just...” She tried to think of something to say. “Just that Tata’s away, we have no other men in the house, Mammi’s brothers aren’t much help—Omama even spent a week here when that whole pig problem happened because Peter-Bátschi and Sophie-Néni couldn’t keep their children under control—and the war has taken many good, strong men from us. I’m doing my best to help Mammi. What do people expect?”

Maria tucked the magazine back into her satchel. “They expect you to act like a woman, Lissika. To know where your place is, to let the men do their work, and to associate with the right people.” She passed Elisabeth the postcard. “Your father only says to give his regards to his family, not to help them, be kind to them, or anything like that. He’s being polite, as you said. No one is asking you to be rude, just to stop spending time with them. You know these rumours will pass, but only if you stop feeding them.”

Elisabeth held the postcard in her hands. Both Tata and Mammi would want Elisabeth to act in the best interests of the family, and she did not want to be the one to cause the family to fall, as Pastor Fröhlich had warned. Maybe that’s why Tata tries to be nice to his brother: to keep his family together. She suddenly felt an even deeper respect for her father and even more scorn for Konrad-Bátschi.

“I will try,” she said.“I’m sorry,” Maria said. “I didn’t want to hurt your feelings. But we both want to marry well, and we can only do that if we know what others think about us.”

Maria changed into her boots at the house door while Elisabeth got her shawls.

“To be honest,” Maria said, “I do feel sorry for Georg. Whatever is causing these shakes, it’s embarrassing enoughfor him, and I think the others are being too cruel. But if these shakes are God’s punishment, then is everyone’s behaviour wrong? What if the people are helping God punish Georg?” She threw her satchel over her shoulder.

Elisabeth hadn’t thought of that either. Luther preached that God punished those who did not follow His word, and she remembered Luther’s admonishment about anyone who did not follow the Ten Commandments. Georg had been a frightening and scornful man before the war. Maybe God was finally paying attention. Maybe Georg’s shakes were indeed of his own doing and he wasn’t taking responsibility for them.

Mammi was right: Elisabeth should stay away fromTata’s family.

She glanced at the postcard. I’m sorry, she thought, but this time I need to disobey you and listen to Mammi.