Wartime lies - Louis Begley [25]
Directly after “Lili Marleen,” Reinhard would turn off the radio. He and Tania would lie in bed talking and laughing for a while. My lamp was out, but I had trouble sleeping. Reinhard said it was natural; I went out so little. I would watch the thin wedge of light from their room on the floor and listen. I was jealous of Reinhard. It seemed to me that Tania had never been more beautiful. Her face was pensive and soft. She was wearing her hair very long. She said this was the style of her new hairdresser, Monsieur Guerre. Perhaps because it was so long, her hair seemed darker, the color of chestnuts after they have been polished in one’s hand. She had very few dresses and saved them for Reinhard’s visits. When we were alone in the apartment, she wore peignoirs and matching mules. She laughed that Reinhard was better at supplying lingerie than dresses or skirts: that was all right, she didn’t mind looking the kept woman with me. But, just to tease him, she invariably received him in a dress or skirt and sweater and took her time about changing into the lacy garments he preferred. She said this was all she could afford right then by way of a revolt of slaves. At last, their light would go out. I would lie in my bed quietly until they and I fell asleep.
We had no maid. One could not know how nosy she would be or what tales she might tell. Tania shopped for food first thing in the morning. She would hurry, to reduce the chances of being recognized and the time we were separated. We never went out with Reinhard; a German officer with a Polish woman and child would attract too much attention. As it was, Tania thought everyone in the building, beginning with the janitress, was giving her the evil eye, which she said was a very good thing: let them mutter about the German’s tart and her bastard, it will keep their minds off the Jewish question.
My walks with Tania were in the evening, progressively later as the days grew longer, for we did not want to go out before nightfall. We would stride rapidly down streets lit by sparse lamps and an occasional shop window. So long as the cold weather lasted, Tania was delighted. She claimed that these were perfect conditions. All our Aryan friends were at dinner or playing cards; no time to hunt the polluting Jew. The city belonged to the underworld, old and new. I suffered from her jokes. I thought they made us feel even lonelier. I didn’t like the thought of being a criminal. Besides, if we were criminals, like the pirates in Treasure Island, we should be getting some profit from it. But we didn’t; we were always afraid and nobody was afraid of us.
Spring came, and Tania and I were no longer solitary figures rushing and slipping on the frozen, dirty snow that nobody bothered to shovel off the sidewalks. We had to pay more attention. Tania’s technique for avoiding recognition changed. We were now to walk slowly and nonchalantly; that attracted the least attention. She would wear a toque with a little voilette. My feeling of shame during these expeditions was intense. Reinhard had gotten clothes for me at the Wehrmacht store. They were very new, a little too large, and had a shape that had nothing to do with my body. I thought I looked different from all other boys, like a funny box on two legs. My shoes, which laced over the ankles, were a separate center of shame. Somehow, there was a shortage of long shoelaces in T. and Lwów that even Reinhard could not overcome. As a result, I had to tie my shoes with laces that had been broken in many places and tied together, and I could either wear my shoes laced only to the middle, which I thought made me look like a beggar, or I could lace them to the top after a struggle with the hideous knots that took forever