CHAPTER 37 - LEIPZIG, GERMANY—JULY 20, 1917
Max clasped the handle to Nia’s harness and shuffled out of his apartment.
While Anna locked the door behind them, he descended the stairs, stepped outside, and raised his chin toward the sky, feeling the warmth of the sun on his clean-shaven face.
It’s going to be a nice day, he thought.
Please, God, let me have the stamina to make it to the park and back without becoming faint.
“Which way?” Anna asked, stepping to him.
Max gestured with his cane. “Nia knows the way.”
Anna smiled and patted Nia.
“Forward,” Max said.
Nia padded ahead.
He tapped his cane and walked. After traveling fifty meters, he grew short of breath and his legs turned shaky, compelling him to slow his pace.
“How about we rest for a moment?” Anna asked.
“Danke.” He stopped and took in shallow breaths. “I’m sorry. I hate for you to see me this way.”
“There’s nothing to feel sorry about,” she said. “We can take as much time as you need. Right, Nia?”
The dog wagged her tail.
Max nodded. He paused, inhaling air. His dizziness gradually subsided, and he pressed on.
It took them over twenty minutes, three times what it should have taken, to reach the park. Nia guided him to a bench, where he slumped in a seat. He took in several wheezing breaths, and then unbuckled Nia’s harness.
“It’s been a while since Nia has had a good run,” Max said. “Would you mind giving her a bit of exercise?”
“I’d love to,” Anna said. “Come, Nia.”
The dog followed Anna onto an earthen path that winded through a lush public garden filled with evergreens.
Max leaned back on the bench. The burn in his lungs faded, and his pulse rate slowed. He took in more breaths, bringing in the scent of pine. A warm breezed caressed his face. And he listened to the sweet timbre of Anna’s voice as she played with Nia. I wish I could join you.
After a good run and a game of fetch with a stick, Anna and Nia joined Max on the bench. They spoke for an hour, each sharing details of their lives while apart over the past several months.
“Fleck changed my role to a substitute trainer,” Anna said. “Much of my duties are focused on caring for shepherds with Emmi.”
“Why?” Max asked. “You’re the best trainer in the school.”
“Fleck didn’t give a reason. I assume he thinks my success with training Nia was a fluke.”
He held out his hand.
She clasped his fingers.
“You’ll train again,” he said. “Someday, there will be scores of guide dogs—all across Deutschland—that will have been instructed by you.”
“That’s a lovely thought,” she said.
He entwined his fingers with hers and gently caressed her hand with his thumb.
Nia nuzzled them.
“I feel lucky to have Nia,” he said, “especially considering my diagnosis.”
“How so?” she asked.
“It would have been easy for Dr. Stalling to have switched Nia’s assignment to a healthier veteran. It was kind of him to allow us to remain together.”
Anna squeezed his hand.
“I wish you could have seen what Nia accomplished over the past several months.” He turned toward her. “She performed admirably. I don’t know what I would have done without her.”
Nia’s ears perked, and she tilted her head.
“But, most of all,” he said, “she’s been a caring companion.”
“I’m glad,” Anna said.
Max dreaded bringing their time in the park to an end. He wanted to stay with her, talking and holding hands, but his diaphragm began to feel constricted. Regretfully, he slipped his hand away and rose from the bench. Together, they left the park with Nia between them.
Upon returning to the apartment, Max, who needed to stop twice on the journey home to catch his breath, slumped onto a sofa with his head on a small, decorative pillow. “I’m sorry to be a poor host,” he said. “But I think I need to rest.”
Anna approached him and gently ran her hand over his forehead.
His muscles relaxed. “Your touch is like heaven,” he breathed.
Anna smiled. “Take a nap, and when you wake, I’ll have something prepared for us to eat.”
He felt her touch fade away, and he drifted into a deep, cavernous sleep.
* * *
Max woke to the sensation of Nia’s tongue licking his face. He stretched his arms and labored to sit up. “Good girl, Nia. Danke for waking me.”
Nia gave him another wet lick to the nose, and then padded to Anna.
“How do you feel?” Anna asked.
“Better,” Max said, his head a bit groggy. “Is it time for lunch?”
“Dinner.”
He rubbed his face. “How long did I sleep?”
“All afternoon,” she said.
“I’m so sorry,” he said, rising from the sofa.
“It’s quite all right. You needed rest.”
They sat at the table and ate dinner that Anna had prepared from his leftover turnip latkes, as well as cabbage and bread that she’d brought with her.
Afterward, Max—rejuvenated by sleep and food—invited Anna to join him at his grand piano, which took up much of the living room in his modest-size apartment.
“It’s beautiful,” Anna said, tapping a key. “Did your vater make it?”
“Ja,” he said. “You remembered that he made pianos.”
“Of course.”
Max felt a strange tug in his cheeks, and he realized that he was smiling, perhaps for the first time in months. He positioned his hands over the keys. “What would you like to hear?”
“I think you already know,” she said.
He nodded, and then began playing the first movement to Light Suite. Performing on the piano, Max believed, was one of the few remaining things he could do that didn’t exhaust him. I’m unable to take long walks, but I can still give her the gift of music.
As his hands and fingers glided over the keys, a calmness washed over him.
Flashes of his time with Anna, transcribing the piece—bar by bar—onto staff paper filled his head.
He felt her warmth next to him, and his loneliness, which had encompassed him since leaving her in Oldenburg, faded away.
A deep fulfillment swelled within him, and the emotional wall that he’d created came tumbling down.
He played each movement of the piece, and as the resonance of music was replaced by silence, he rose from the piano and extended his hand.
She clasped his fingers and stood.
Nia, lying beneath the bench, gave a high-pitched yawn, then lowered her head back to the floor and closed her eyes.
Max felt Anna move close, her fingers entwining with his.
“I don’t want you to sleep on the sofa again tonight,” she said.
“But we agreed last night that you would have my bed.”
“That’s not what I’m saying,” she said. “I want us to be together.”
Butterflies fluttered in his stomach. He pulled her close, then paused. “I don’t know if I’m capable of—” His forehead touched hers.
“It’s all right,” she breathed. “We’ll simply hold each other. I don’t want another day to pass with us being apart.”
“Nor I,” Max said.
Holding his hand, she guided him to the bedroom.
He released her, and then glided his palms up her arms and rested them on her shoulders.
His heart thumped inside his chest. He slowly leaned in and their lips met, sending tingles through his body.
Patiently, they undressed each other, undoing buttons and buckles.
Clothing fell to the floor, and they slipped into the bed and embraced, their bodies melded as one.