Willfully Ignorant

It was shortly after that that I was riding the streetcar to go shopping when a young girl got on the bus, out of breath, her face red and tense. She asked if she could sit with me. I, of course, moved over to the window so she could join me. She patted down her hair, the color of soot, and took deep breaths.

“I have something to ask you.” She had turned to me, but was looking out the window. The streetcar barely got started when it was stopped by the SS.

“Please, please help me,” she begged. “If the police ask if you know me, please say that I have been with you since the last stop.” Her voice was shaky and I could tell she was close to tears.

By now the police were on the streetcar slowly making their way down the aisle, looking intently at every passenger.

I didn’t have a chance to answer the strange girl before they arrived at our seats. I started talking to her as if we had been in a deep conversation.

“But you must come for supper, mother will be so disappointed if you cannot make it,” I said as the police stopped at our seat.

My heart was beating wildly and I could barely breathe. I didn’t have time to wonder what I had gotten myself into.

The policeman looked at the girl and then at me. “Your papers, please.” He hadn’t asked any of the other passengers for papers.

We both got out our papers. I handed mine first, glancing down at the girl’s papers sitting on her lap. As I leaned toward the policeman, I saw her name was Berta.

“So you are friends? How long have you been together today?” His eyes didn’t miss anything.

“We got on at Potsdamer Platz,” I answered. “We are going shopping,” I added. “My mother, said to me, ‘Carin, you had better get here in time for supper.’” I smiled to hide the tension I felt in my jaw. I saw her name, but she didn’t know mine and I worried that he would ask.

“So your name is Carin, and what is your friend’s name?”

“Why this is Berta, sir,” I said with the confidence of a best friend. He stood looking at us a little longer. I thought he must hear the thumping of my heart. Finally, he handed us our papers and continued on down the aisle. I was glad I was sitting down or I would have fallen.

We held our breath as the police came back down the aisle and then left the streetcar.

The girl seated next to me started crying. I found a handkerchief in the bottom of my purse and gave it to her.

“Thank you so much. I will get off at the next stop. I am sorry for putting you in that position. I was not thinking. Please forgive me.” She wiped her eyes and sat back in the seat, her shoulders slumped.

I didn’t want to know why the police were looking for her. I didn’t ask her any questions. She got off at the next stop.