Up in Honey's Room

Nineteen

"I have no reason to deceive you,” Honey said. “A federal marshal dropped me on your doorstep and left, not wanting to disturb you or with authority to do anything else. But I risked being denied entrance knowing that Walter Schoen, my former husband, was here and I’m anxious for Walter to hear what I have to say. Seeing him again the other evening, after so many lost years, I remembered how thoughtful he was during the year we were married.” She turned her gaze on Walter saying, “What I’ve come to do, Walter, is tell you I’m sorry, deeply sorry for the rude, unforgivable way I walked out of your life.”

She waited. No one said a word.

Do it, Honey thought and crossed the room to Walter, arms at her sides in the trench coat, saucy beret snug on her blond hair, Honey suppliant, going to Walter for his forgiveness, Honey hoping she wasn’t overdoing it. She reached out to him with both hands and he took them in his, his calloused, meat-cutter hands, his pince-nez catching flashes of light as he looked at his people and brought his gaze back to Honey. She would tell Carl sometime tomorrow, in a quiet tone, I saw the lost years welling in his eyes, Honey leaving herself open for Carl to say . . .

Walter sniffled before bringing out his white handkerchief, sniffled again, took hold of his nose and blew it, wiped his nose and looked in the handkerchief. He hasn’t changed, Honey thought and said to God, Please don’t let him cut one, I don’t play being shot anymore.

To Walter she said, “Would you like to introduce me to your friends?”

The one she was dying to meet was Jurgen from the Afrika Korps, but Vera got to Honey and took her by the arm to the kitchen, saying they needed to talk.

“We’ll get you a drink since you sieg heiled us. What would you say to a vodka martini?”

“You’re too kind,” Honey said.

“I could have used someone with your cheek,” Vera said. “Tell me about the federal policeman who dropped you off. You want it dry?”

“Very. He’s Carl Webster from Oklahoma. He fools you, you think he’s a shit-kicker till you look in his eyes. Carl’s a keeper, but he’s married.”

“Yes? That makes a difference?”

“Not to me especially. I’m with him I act a little like I’m on the make, but I’m not after him to leave home. I thought we might have some fun, but he’s the kind, he gives his word that’s it, it’s cut in stone.”

“Perhaps you’re trying too hard.”

“I don’t have a lot of time.”

“Yes, but you have to be subtle.”

“He comes to visit, don’t open the door bare naked?”

“You want him to think going to bed is his idea.”

“I haven’t given up.” Honey sipped the martini Vera gave her and said, “You know what you’re doing, don’t you?”

“I hope so,” Vera said.

Bohdan stuck his head in the kitchen. He said to Vera, “Let’s not forget Mr. Au-bur-ree,” in kind of a singsong, and to Honey, “Love your beret, it’s classic,” and was gone.

Honey smiled. “He’s cute.”

“Bo’s my guardian angel,” Vera said. “He was reminding me I have to talk to Joe Aubrey before he leaves. About going into a business.”

“How can you stand that guy?” Honey said. “He never shuts up.”

“He’s Walter’s friend,” Vera said, “I see him only once in a while. But, my God, you were married to Walter an entire year? You must have come close to losing your mind. I tell him, ‘Walter, you love the Nazis so much, why don’t you go back to Germany?’ No, his destiny is here. Finally tonight we find out what it is. How he’ll change from Walter, the dullest man God ever made, to Walter the Assassin.”

“He wants to shoot somebody?”

“Crash a plane into the man’s house.”

“And kill himself?”

“Yes, but for the Führer. On his birthday or close to it.”

“Walter knows how to fly?”

“He knows how to take off.”

“Crash a plane into someone’s house for the Führer,” Honey said. “Joe Aubrey’s plane, that Cessna? He can’t be going far.”

“I thought it might be Himmler,” Vera said, “from the way Walter was talking about him. You know Walter believed all his life that in some mystical way he was Himmler’s twin brother.”

“The first time we met,” Honey said, “standing in front of church, I had to guess who he looks like. This was back in ’38, but I knew who it was. I told Walter he looked exactly like Himmler and Walter bowed his head and said thank you.”

“Well, this evening,” Vera said, “Walter denounced Himmler, called him Heini most of the time. Walter believes that in America his name will become as well known as John Wilkes Booth. You know who I mean?”

“The actor who shot Lincoln,” Honey said. “You’re saying Walter wants to assassinate President Roosevelt?”

“I can’t see him doing it,” Vera said. “But listen, I have to speak to Joe Aubrey before he leaves. Tell me if you want to meet anyone besides Jurgen.”

She expected Walter any second to walk into the kitchen and tell her how he’s going to give his life for Hitler, hoping to do it on the Führer’s birthday. What would she say? You don’t want to just send him a tie?

Without being a smart-ass what would she say?

Well, if that’s what you want to do, Walter. If you’ve made up your mind. Tell Walter it’s the bravest thing she’s ever heard of. Without overdoing it, stirring his emotions about lost years. She told herself to think, will you, before you say anything? Keep it simple. Tell Walter he’s your hero and tell Carl, tomorrow, what Walter plans to do.

She’d have to get Walter to drive her home.

And thought, Oh shit, he’ll want to stop and talk, hold my hand. It was embarrassing watching a Nazi-lover trying to be lovey.

And thought, No, he won’t stop because Joe Aubrey will be in the car. Walter must’ve brought him, he always did. She’d let Joe sit in front, listen to him rant about the Klan for fifteen minutes and she’d be home. Only once, back in the Bund days, Joe Aubrey ever made a real move on her. Came up behind her and slipped his hands around her body to cup her breasts, alone in the kitchen, the house on Kenilworth near the market, grabbed her breasts and whispered in her ear, “You can do better’n Walter. You know it?”

She said, “ ’Course I know it.”

He said, “You ever thought of movin’ to Georgia? You could work at Rich’s in Atlanta, the best department store in town, and I’d fly up and see you.”

She said, “Joe, I’ve given up my cute southern ways, acting ditsy in front of boys? I’ve learned I’m way smarter than most of them.”

He was caressing her breasts now saying in her ear, “I know how to please a woman, get her moanin’.”

Honey said, “You don’t stop, I’m gonna grab your weenie and yank it so hard Walter’ll hear you scream and come running out here to kill you.”

What did that do? Got him excited. It was one of so many times she spoke before she thought it out. Still, it never got her in trouble, did it?

Jurgen came in the kitchen with his empty glass, smiling, showing his nice white teeth, telling Honey, “Since you came in this house I’ve been thinking of ways to get you alone and Vera offers you to me.”

“Like she knows you’re the reason I crashed the party,” Honey said. “Do you know what I mean?”

“I think so, yes.”

“I have to talk to you about what’s gonna happen next.”

Jurgen hesitated. “You mean when the war ends?”

“I mean now, tonight. I want to know what you’re gonna do,” Honey said. “If you’ve made up your mind to leave here tonight, slip off in the dark or what?”

“Let me think about this,” Jurgen said. “You told Vera that Carl Webster dropped you off here. This policeman who wants to put me in the hoosgow.”

“He can’t,” Honey said.

“You know the word hoosgow?”

“It’s the jail in a Gene Autry movie.”

“Yes, what cowboys call it, from the Spanish word juzgado, meaning a court of law. You know hoosgow, uh?”

“Listen to me,” Honey said. “You’re right, Carl would love to grab you and take you back to Oklahoma, but he can’t. The Federal Bureau of Investigation’s ordered him to stand back, leave you alone. They think you’re helping out the spy ring and want to see their investigation play out. Carl told me he’s cut corners in his time but has never, when a higher-up gives him an order. Has never disobeyed it, he said, and never will.”

She didn’t think it sounded much like Carl, but part of it was true. She wasn’t sure he’d never disobeyed an order. If he did, she imagined that by the time he explained why, he’d tell a great story that ends with gunfire.

Jurgen said, “This is Carl’s idea? To ask me what I’m going to do?”

“It’s mine,” Honey said. “Carl dropped me off but hasn’t any idea what I’m doing. Actually what I thought of when I walked in and saw you. Carl would love to sit down and talk to you, and if you want, you can do it. I swear he’s been told to leave you alone. You can walk up and give him a shove, he might growl but he won’t handcuff you. He’s been ordered not to”-she was starting to overdo it-“and I know he would love to see you again. How’s that sound? Sit down with Carl and have a drink.”

He seemed to like the idea, but was still suspicious, being on the run, a fugitive.

Honey said, “I imagine Vera would just as soon you weren’t here. But don’t leave unless you know where you’re going. I mean to a friend who’ll hide you, not to some hotel. If you don’t have a friend, Jesus, outside of Walter, you must’ve been a loner when you lived here that time, more interested in what was going on than having buddies.” She paused for a moment and said, “Do you trust me?”

“I don’t know you.”

“All I can say is take me on my word, it’s good as gold.” She said, “I’m willing to help you out, Jurgen.”

“Become complicit in a German soldier’s escape?”

“We’re in the eye of the storm,” Honey said. “It’s calm in here. The FBI’s leaving you alone. Carl can’t touch you. It’s like a time-out in football. You and Carl can get together, have a few drinks and talk, decide what you want to do next. You want to leave, Carl has to let you walk away.”

Jurgen said, “Why are you getting involved in this?”

“Why’d I marry Walter?”

“Why did you?”

“Don’t ask hard questions,” Honey said. “I have a place where you can meet Carl and tell war stories to each other. Yes or no?”

“What you’re telling me,” Jurgen said, “I’m no longer important as an escaped German soldier?”

Almost sounding offended.

“For the time being,” Honey said.

“But I might be a spy. So they have to wait to see what I do?”

Honey said, “If it was okay for Carl to pick you up, you think we’d be standing here talking? You’d be on your way to Oklahoma.”

“But you say he doesn’t know what you’re trying to arrange.”

“I told you, I hadn’t thought of it yet.”

“So you don’t know what he’ll say about it.”

Maybe she was trying too hard.

“It’s up to you,” Honey said. “You want to come with me, I’ll ask Walter to give us a ride when he’s ready.”

“Yes, and where would we be going?”

“To my place,” Honey said, “my apartment.”

See if that stirred him any.