Chapter 36 The Human Library
The Human Library
Berlin
In his nightly conversations with Alban, Derek sensed that he was at the feet of a philosopher. It was the only enjoyable
part of his monotonous days. He came to see that wisdom, far beyond simply knowing things, was the capacity to reflect on
the meaning of life and the purpose of existence. When the guards took Alban away and did not bring him back, Derek was thrust
right back into the pit of loneliness.
One day the door opened. Kummer would come by at random intervals to question and berate Derek, so he braced for another of
the SS official’s mocking greetings. Yet the silhouette illuminated against the doorframe was shorter.
“Derek von Sholtz?”
“Yes,” Derek replied, shielding his eyes with his hands to try to make out who was speaking. He did not recognize the voice.
“My name is Wilhelm Schmidt, and I’ve come to get you out.”
The name was not familiar to Derek, but the man explained that Blaz von Sholtz’s persistence in trying to locate Derek had paid off. They had found where he was being held, and he was now being released.
“You’d best forget all this and go on with life,” Wilhelm said.
Derek’s legs were so weak that Wilhelm had to help him stand. His skin was sickly and pale, his long, blond beard flecked
with gray.
It took quite some time for Derek to limp, supported by Wilhelm, up the stairs, out of the building, and to the car that took
him to his parents’ house.
Two days later, he woke between clean sheets. At first he did not recognize where he was. Then he saw his mother’s smiling
face and assumed he had died and was now in heaven.
“Where am I? How did I get here?” he croaked.
“Your father managed to get you out. You were very weak when they brought you in. You still are. It’ll be a few weeks before
you can be up and about.”
Gisela called for the maid, who brought Alexander and Matilde in. He hugged them as tightly as his arms allowed. “Oh, my darlings,
I thought I’d never see you again. You’re alive, you’re healthy, you’re well—oh, how beautiful you are!” He sobbed when he
heard their little voices call him papa.
“They’re safe and sound here,” Gisela answered, pleased at the reunion.
“Here? What do you mean? Where’s Helene?”
“We don’t know where she’s staying, and that’s for everyone’s safety.
She calls almost every day and comes to see the children several times a week when your father is at work.
She had to leave them here with us when you were .
. . Blaz said . . . well, it was safer that way.
But I haven’t heard from her in a couple of days, and I don’t have a way to reach her.
I’m always nervous with the bombings. I never know if .
. . Berlin is no longer safe. Blaz and I have been talking about going back to Konigsberg. ”
Derek was in no frame of mind to understand any of what Gisela explained. It sounded like Helene had abandoned the children,
but Derek knew she loved them more than anything in the world. He sagged back against the pillow and barely had strength to
wave when Gisela led Alexander and Matilde out of the room.
Derek stayed in bed for a week. Several times a day he called Lena’s house and the Neukolln library, but the lines were dead.
In desperation he even tried the line at the Secret Library, but there was never any answer.
Eight or nine days after his release, he was far from recovered, but he could at least walk a few yards on his own. That was
all Blaz needed to pack up the belongings they cared most about and return to East Prussia. Derek knew it was the safest choice
for his family, but he was in sheer panic at leaving without Helene. In desperation, he wrote a letter addressed to Lena,
being as vague as possible and cloaking all the information. He hoped Lena could read between the lines and get Helene to
him in Konigsberg.
Derek was free and together with his children again. But the other half of his soul was missing. He felt that destiny was
delivering a blow he could not endure, but he had to keep going for his children. They needed him now more than ever.
Helene had nearly lost all hope of ever seeing Derek alive again.
She had continued to call Alexander and Matilde daily and visit three or four times a week, but one day the phone lines went dead after a nearby explosion.
She had nearly run out of gas, and there was none to be found for typical civilians in the city.
She had enough for one more round trip to her in-laws’ house and had planned to go that day in early November, but then the route out of Grunewald was blocked by debris from a recent air raid.
She thought about walking, but for many miles she would be an easy target both for the Nazis looking for her and for the bombs from above.
It took nearly two weeks for the road to get cleared. During all that time, Helene had no way to communicate with Gisela.
She poured her frustration into reorganizing and cataloging the books in every square inch of Lena’s family’s summer home.
She had been too long without Alexander and Matilde. She had decided that on this trip, they would be coming back with her,
no matter what Blaz said. The house in the middle of the forest would be much safer than anywhere in Berlin. Finally, the
road was clear, and Helene made it to her in-laws’ house.
She knocked and knocked, but no one came to the door. Eventually, a neighbor came outside. Exasperated, the woman said, “They’re
not there anymore. The von Sholtzes left Berlin a few days ago. It’s what we all should do, if we’re smart. This city’s no
longer safe.”
Helene froze in place. Involuntarily, she gagged. Her body started shaking uncontrollably, and she vomited everything she
had eaten in the last twenty-four hours.
“What in the world . . . ?” the neighbor said, disgusted.
Helene managed to straighten up and ran back to her car.
Later, she had no recollection of driving to Lena’s house.
Apparently she fainted at the doorstep, and they brought her in and put her to bed, where she stayed for several days.
They could see no sign of injury, and she did not seem sick, but they let her rest. When she woke up, Helene refused to eat and would hardly speak.
She could not get out the words to tell Lena what had happened. She just wanted to die.
Lena did what she could to care for Helene, but she could tell that her friend’s death wish was serious.
One morning, Lena said, “Helene, you can’t give up. One day you’ll find Derek and Alexander and Matilde. This war will be
over. There’s got to be some reason for all of this, some greater meaning. There’s no way we’re born only to suffer. It’s
as sure as how dawn always comes after the darkest night. Remember St. John of the Cross’s poem, ‘The Dark Night of the Soul’?”
Lena knew Helene loved the Spanish mystic and began to recite:
In a dark night,
With anxious love inflamed,
O, happy lot!
Forth unobserved I went,
My house being now at rest.
In darkness and in safety,
By the secret ladder, disguised,
O, happy lot!
In darkness and concealment,
My house being now at rest.
In that happy night,
In secret, seen of none,
Seeing nought myself,
Without other light or guide
Save that which in my heart was burning.
That light guided me
More surely than the noonday sun
To the place where He was waiting for me,
Whom I knew well,
And where none appeared.
O, guiding night;
O, night more lovely than the dawn;
O, night that hast united
The lover with His beloved,
And changed her into her love.
On my flowery bosom,
Kept whole for Him alone,
There He reposed and slept;
And I cherished Him, and the waving
Of the cedars fanned Him.
As His hair floated in the breeze
That from the turret blew,
He struck me on the neck
With His gentle hand,
And all sensation left me.
I continued in oblivion lost,
My head was resting on my love;
Lost to all things and myself,
And, amid the lilies forgotten,
Threw all my cares away.
Those beautiful words recited by her friend awoke something in Helene and started to draw her out of the pit of despair. She
was able to eat a little that day.
The fourth day after fainting at Lena’s door, while Helene sipped on coffee with Lena and cradled Mark in one arm, Gabor walked
in holding two things in his hand.
“Kaiser!” Helene cried and reached for him with her free hand.
“I went and got him from the Grunewald house. The poor guy was really hungry. The books are all fine,” Gabor said, exchanging
the cat for the baby. He took Mark back to the bedroom to change his diaper.
“There’s one thing that worries me about the Grunewald house,” Lena said. Now that Helene was starting to be herself again,
Lena ventured to share something that had been bothering her.
“What’s that?” Helene asked, nuzzling Kaiser.
“You heard that the Prussian State Library was hit really hard in one of the bomb raids. I’m worried that’ll happen to our
Secret Library.”
“In the middle of the forest?” Helene asked. In her lap, Kaiser was purring like he was in heaven.
“Well, not far from the woods, there’s an airport. If the British bomb it and aren’t totally on target, the blast could reach
the house.”
This new information deflated the spirits Helene was only starting to recoup. She did not want all their hard work and sacrifice
to disappear in an instant.
“Maybe we could spread the books out?” she wondered aloud, but even as she said it she knew it was impractical.
Lena cocked her head, thinking. “Or perhaps we could bury them underground?”
“No, if the bombs didn’t get them, the humidity and mold would. You know that those two, plus fire, are the greatest enemies
of our . . .” She did not finish that phrase because her mind had jumped ahead. “Oh, a living library.”
Lena raised her eyebrows. “I don’t follow you.”
“A human library. Hundreds of people memorizing each book. If the books fall into the hands of the Nazis or go up in flames
in the bombings, they’ll survive in the minds of hundreds of people who could write them down again.”
Lena smiled at the delightful, but impossible, idea. “Where will we find that many people willing and able to memorize books?”
“Well,” Helen said, her thoughts organizing themselves as she spoke, “we could start with all the librarians and bookstore
owners the Nazis have fired and ask them to choose one book to commit to memory. It’ll become the largest living library humanity
has ever known.”
Just then, Gabor walked back in with Mark and said, “Oh, Lena, this letter came for you earlier today. I can’t make out who
it’s from.”
Lena studied the handwriting. It looked vaguely familiar but was slanted and uneven, as if the person writing were either
in a big hurry or could not hold the pen straight.
Helene glanced at the envelope and caught her breath.
“Wait, I think it’s from Derek!”
Lena’s eyes bulged, and she handed the envelope to her friend without a word.
Helene took a deep breath, opened it, and pulled out the single sheet of paper. She read it first to herself then aloud.
Dear Lena,
I trust this note will find you. The children and I are well. We’ve decided to return to my hometown. You know how fond my
parents are of Mr. Schafhof. I must have told you about him at least twenty-five times. His place is always open to visitors.
Take care,
Krede
“Mr. Schafhof?” Lena said. “Who in the world is that?”
Helene was struggling to make sense of things. On the one hand, she knew Derek was alive; he was with his parents; Alexander
and Matilde were with their father when they were taken out of Berlin; and he was trying to get in touch with Helene. On the
other hand, the contents of the letter were a mystery. Helene felt like the answer was staring her in the face, but she could
not grasp it.
“It must be a code,” Gabor said. “Krede is Derek, and Schafhof is clearly a clue about where he’s staying.”
Helene started, and Kaiser meowed in protest. “Maybe it’s not a person.” Her words came tumbling out. “Of course they went
back to their house in Konigsberg, but I’ve never been there and don’t know the address. So maybe Schafhof is a place, or
a street. And the number twenty-five—it could be the street address.”
Lena nodded. “Yes, yes, that makes total sense. He wrote it to me because he had no way of getting in touch with you, thanks
to the dead phone lines and you living out in Grunewald. But he had to make sure no one like Kummer could figure out who he
was or where he was going.”
Helene’s brain felt like it was exploding with so many new facts, possibilities, and emotions.