On the wrong Side of the River 1

»At least, I could find these!«

Lilly, who had climbed up the ladder, placed a pile of folded blankets on the floor. Her friends took them, finding out it were three woollen blankets, so only one of them would get one of their own. Marguerite and Nesrin didn’t mind doing so, but to Lilly’s surprise, Daisy approached her, leaving Sayana with a blanket for her own. When the shivering girls had covered themselves and buried themselves in the hay again, she whispered:

»I know she hasn’t done it on purpose – but I had wanted to see Johnny once again, and now, we are once again stranded in some miserable part of the past!«

Lilly pulled Daisy closer to her, hearing her oppressed sobbing. She also looked at Sayana who hadn’t understood the conversation in English, but sure had drawn her own conclusions. However, there were worse problems than Daisy’s broken heart.

The motorcycle looked as if it belonged to the German Wehrmacht, and the box with the swastika added to the image. Of course, there could be a harmless explanation – that they had landed on a film set, or that it belonged to a collector of military memorabilia. However, even if that was true, they definitely were neither in India nor in the Caribbean.

Beside her, Nesrin was trying to explain to Marguerite what a motorcycle was, and of course, Sayana also listened with interest. Then, Marguerite asked the question the girls from the 21st century had feared:

»So, this – thing is some contraption that can travel without horses, but even faster than one! But – does that mean we have reached your time?«

Lilly gulped and cleared her throat before she answered:

»It could be! But there is also a possibility we have landed in one of the worst periods of history! One in which things could become even worse for Sayana and Daisy than they have been back on the plantation!«

Sayana looked at the others, her voice slightly trembling:

»I-I have n-no idea why w-we are here! I-it just – came over m-me!«

She looked lonely, despite the others being so close to her, and Lilly felt the urge to hug her, too, but she could feel Daisy stiffen at Sayana’s apology, and she decided to think about what to do next. She looked at the small window through which some moonlight came in, covered with ice. She guessed that outside, there would be snow, too.

»We have to wait for the dawn, so we can figure out where we are! There must be some farmhouse nearby! We need some clothes before we try to get out of here – wherever it may be!«

So, the girls waited for the morning, trying to keep themselves warm. Only Nesrin and Daisy had their panties, and so, the others took the discarded scarves to produce makeshift loincloths and breast cloths. At least, they would now be covered a little if someone would see them.

Lilly noticed that Nesrin dodged Marguerite’s questions about what she had meant by »the worst period in history«, and Lilly also gave only monosyllabic answers. If they had really landed in the time of the Third Reich, they should focus on leaving it asap. Once they were safe and sound, they could give a history lesson to Sayana and Marguerite.

»The good thing is that we are closer to 2024 than before now! If Sayana can do just one more time jump, we will at least be in our time! If she manages to avoid places like Afghanistan, I will not complain if someone sees me naked!«

Trying to calm herself with these thoughts, Lilly watched the moon vanish and then the small rectangle of the window turn from black into a dark blue. She reminded Daisy that she was the tallest, and with a sigh, the girl slipped from under the blanket, shuddering from the cold as she approached the window and peeked through it.

She could see snow, lots of it – and another house not far from the barn. It was just a black shadow under a snow-covered roof, but she could see a lit window, and smoke come from its chimney. So, they were not alone. The question was whether this was a good thing.

»One of us has to get over and try to find out!«

It wasn’t Daisy’s intention to shy away from being the chosen one, but if they were indeed in Germany, or in some territory occupied by the Nazis, it could be helpful if the spy spoke German, which only Nesrin and Lilly did. And whilst Nesrin was Persian, Lilly would at least not look suspicious because of her race.

»Send the short-sighted one on a spy mission!«, she complained. Then, she looked down on herself: she was covered by a coloured scarf between her legs, held in place by a piece of rope tied around her waist, and another scarf tied over her breasts. If she got discovered, she would need a very good explanation for her appearance, white skin or not.

With the last two remaining scarves, they tied some hay around her feet, and Lilly wrapped herself into the blanket before she approached the door. It was unlocked, but the snow only allowed her to open it a bit, and once she had slipped through the gap, she could feel the snow on her barely covered feet. Still, the house was nothing but a black blob to her, and Lilly carefully listened for any sound when she slowly approached it.

At least, the house’s front door was on the other side, allowing her to get closer without being noticed. The girl entered the small veranda and sneaked closer to the lit window, each moment waiting for a heavy hand landing on her shoulder.

Her eyes fell on a table, quite well lit by an oil lamp, and she could see someone sit in front of a mug. Lilly squeezed her eyes to see better, and she could make out it was a blonde woman. She didn’t wear a uniform, but a black sweater, and then, another woman approached, a brunette also clad in black, though her clothes looked casually. In her hands, Lilly could see a gun, and when she stepped closer to the window, she recognized it as a Luger, the almost iconic German pistol from both wars.

»I just have a look upstairs, then, we can go!«, Lilly heard the blonde say, and she got up and left whilst the brunette put her pistol in a shoulder holster before she put on a jacket, a woollen cap and gloves. The blonde had spoken German, and she was even sure she had heard a slight Bavarian accent.

Now, she returned from upstairs, and Lilly could see her put on a jacket, gloves and a cap, too. Then, they left the room, and she could hear the sound of the front door. Lilly ducked and didn’t dare to breathe when she heard some rustling and the sound of steps on the veranda, but then, there was just a faint scratching sound, and when she dared to peek around the corner, she could see the two leave on skis. They were talking to each other, but over the distance, she couldn’t understand them.

»Maybe, it’s just two friends enjoying the weekend at this hut, and it belongs to their grandfather who has kept his old bike from the war!«

When she was sure the two women were out of the way, she tried the door handle; to her surprise, it wasn’t locked, and through the gap, Lilly could feel a gush of warm air. She shuddered under her blanket, and her toes almost hurt, now the scarves were soaked with snow. Lilly knew that she had to get in the warm, no matter what was waiting inside, and so, she sneaked inside, trying to make no sound when she closed the door.

She now stood inside a small lobby where more coats were hanging and, on a shelf, she saw a row of hiking boots. Still, there was no sign of which epoch they had landed, except for the fact that both coats and boots had plain colours instead of the bright ones most modern hiking gear had. Carefully, she stepped into the main room.

The warmth hit her almost physically, though the room was heated in a normal way. But it was a contrast of more than 20 degree to the outside, and Lilly let the blanket slide from her shoulders, approaching the still burning oven. Warmth, beautiful warmth! For a few minutes, the girl allowed herself to thaw before she looked at where she had been standing, realizing with a gasp that she had left a wet spot from her damp foot protection.

»If I do it to save my life, it’s not stealing!«, she thought when her eyes fell on an improvised clothesline. There were some clothes that looked warm and dry. Quickly, she removed the scarves from her feet. Then, she placed these and the hay in the blanket and used it to wipe off the water puddle before stuffing the bundle deep under a large box in a corner. Then, she inspected the clothes and had put on a pair of woollen socks when she heard a sound from upstairs.

»Fuck!«

Lilly ducked behind an armchair, peeking at the ladder-like stairs leading to the upper floor. Each moment, there would be the sound of steps, and then, black boots would appear, the boots of an SS soldier. However, there was nothing but the same sound again. Now, a shiver ran down Lilly’s spine: it had been a high-pitched muffled ache, like those she and her friends had produced numerous times when they had been gagged.

»Oh my God, where have I run into?«

She darted towards the window, but there was no sign of the women coming back. However, she couldn’t be sure that another accomplice was guarding the woman that had produced the sound.

»If so, he sure would have heard me when I came in!«

Lilly made a decision: whatever this was, the others had to know. In addition, they were also freezing, with nothing than the blankets and their bodies to keep them warm. So, she put on a pullover and trousers. Both had been made for a taller person, but it was better than facing the cold once again. She slipped into some of the boots in the lobby and then, she fought her way back to the barn as fast as the snow allowed.

The others had armed themselves with a pitchfork and a shovel; they had seen the two women leave and of course feared for Lilly. Now, they listened to her report and they decided to get into the house, though they would have to walk through the snow nearly naked.

»We can warm up once we are inside!«

With Daisy and Sayana taking the makeshift weapons, they ran for the house and slipped inside. Here, Daisy, who had her coastguard background, took command and ordered Marguerite and Nesrin to hide beside the curtain and watch if the women would return. Then, the other three girls carefully sneaked up the ladder.

»Mph!«

The sound came from behind one of the two doors upstairs. Now, there was no doubt it came from a gagged woman, and Daisy leaned her ear against the door.

»I think there is no one except her!«, she whispered. Then, taking a deep breath and backed by Lilly and Sayana who held the pitchfork and shovel, she opened the door.

Their eyes fell on a room furnished with the same spruce wood that the house had been built with. In the bed, a woman was lying, her hands cuffed to the upper bedposts. As the girls stepped inside, they could see that her wrists were tied together with rope and fixed to the lower bedframe. She sported a blue dress with small white spots, but her feet were naked, and a black hood was covering her head. She seemed to have noticed the intruders, for she raised her head and mewed, though she acted considerably calm.

Lilly pulled the hood from her head, revealing a slightly sweaty face and light red, shoulder-length curls. A rag with a thick knot in it was tied between her lips, and when she spotted her rescuers, her green eyes widened.

»The two women have gone! Is there anyone else?«, Daisy hissed. Only when the redhead shook her head, she realized that she had understood her, though she had reflexively spoken English. She told Sayana to have an eye on the door; then, she worked on the knot at the woman’s nape whilst Lilly took care of her ankle ties.

»Ouuhmmph!«

With a grunt, the woman suddenly twitched and Daisy lost the ends of the rag.

»Easy, girl! Don’t you want to get free?«

»Sorry, my fault!«, Lilly stated, »I touched her soles! Seems she’s ticklish!«

She couldn’t oppress a giggle, but tried not to touch the woman’s feet again when she freed her ankles. Daisy now removed the gag, only to see that something was stuffing the woman’s mouth. It turned out to be two silk stockings, explaining why her feet were naked. The redhead panted; then, she gulped and looked at them.

»Who – who are you?«

She had spoken English, and she was obviously more confused than grateful. Whilst Lilly looked just a little like a tramp in her oversized clothes, both Sayana and Daisy only wore scarves tied over their breasts and between their legs, and obviously, the redhead was not used to see Blacks.

»We are your rescuers – but I am afraid we have twice as many questions than you may have!«, Lilly admitted. The redhead, whose ankles had just come free, pulled her feet out of Lilly’s reach and frowned at her.

»You are a German – or are you a local girl?«

Now, it was on Lilly to frown. Not because the woman had guessed she was German; she knew that she had a slight accent. However, what did she mean by »local girl«? She asked her that, followed by the question where exactly they were.

»Well, I was blindfolded when they brought me here, but I would guess we are still in Liechtenstein!«

Daisy, who had never been to Europe, hadn’t heard about the country, and so, Lilly quickly told her it was a small state between Austria and Switzerland. Then, remembering something, she looked at the redhead and asked:

»Is it still Austria, or should I say ›Ostmark‹?«

When the Nazis had occupied Austria in March 1938, they had made it a part of the Reich and called it »Ostmark«. The redhead looked as if Lilly was an escapee from a lunatics’ asylum. Then, she pulled slightly on the handcuffs and said:

»If you really came to rescue me – the keys are in the nightstand!«

Daisy found the keys and freed her, and the redhead rose from the bed, rubbing her wrists.

»Thank you! By the way, I am Fiona!«

She obviously didn’t want to give them her last name. Daisy took her hand, and Fiona seemed a bit surprised that a black girl did so, but she repeated the handshake.

»I am Désirée, but you may call me Daisy! That’s Lilly, and at the door’s Sayana – but she only speaks French!«

Fiona shook the others’ hands, too, and in Sayana’s case, she excused herself for only speaking a few words in French. Then, she looked at them and asked:

»Now that we know each other – who the hell are you?«

Lilly took a deep breath. If she told Fiona the truth, she would be even more confused. So, she just replied:

»It’s a long and difficult story! But it will unfold easier for us if you start by telling us a few things! Like what brought you here, and, as strange as it may sound – what date do we have?«

Fiona blinked, and it seemed that she was trying to estimate who her new companions were. Then, she gave the easiest answer:

»It’s the second of February!«

»And which year? I know it sounds crazy, but-«

»Well, 1939!«, Fiona replied, slightly shaking her head. Lilly sat down on the bed, trying to cope with the information: so, they were at Liechtenstein, during a time when Austria already had been occupied by the Nazis, but the Second World War hadn’t yet started. Fiona now showed a glimpse of a smile.

»What year did you expect it to be?«

Again, she seemed to find an explanation for Daisy’s and Sayana’s strange appearance. They were, however, interrupted by someone climbing up the ladder fast, followed by Nesrin’s head peeking through the door.

»Someone’s coming!«

***

He cursed in the language he had hardly spoken during the last three years when he dropped the pile of logs he was carrying towards his tiny hut embedded between two rocks. What the hell was wrong with him? Since the early morning, he felt unruly, as if he had some fever. And yet, there were no other signs of an illness, just this strange excitement that didn’t fit his usual calm attitude.

Still cursing, he collected the logs and piled them up beside his oven. The hut was small and frugal, but it offered all he needed, including the only thing he called a luxury: a board with some books, each of them an ordinary copy, but precious to him. It were books available at every bookstore, and the few people that had visited him here had maybe wondered about them, but never asked further questions. Attached to the shelf was a hook, and on it hung an amulet he now took in his hand.

»What the-«

First, he thought it was just the difference in temperature, since he had just come from the cold, but when he had warmed up his hands and once again touched the amulet, he knew that he had been right: the thing had warmed up, and he could also sense a very small tingle.

»Perhaps, the time will never come, but when it comes, the amulet will let you know!«

It was as if the voice he had heard so often when he had been a boy was speaking to him. The voice of his granduncle Prashant most people had called »Mad Old Prashant«. However, the old man had taken the place of a grandfather in his life, and he had loved the weird old guy who was a never ending source of all kinds of stories. Uncle Prashant had told him that he had served in the British Forces when he had been a young man (something he believed), and that he was some 100 years old (something that could have been a slight exaggeration). Also, he pretended that he had had some encounters with the supernatural, and though he hadn’t believed that, the stories had been full of tension.

»Once, I even had an affair with a real witch!«

Growing older, the boy had thought that his granduncle had become a little senile, but nevertheless, he had continued visiting him: he had reached the unruly waters of puberty, and his uncle had given him all the advice his parents were too afraid to give. Not in a creepy way, but by answering the millions of questions of a growing adolescent, not shying away from difficult topics, and making him feel less self-conscious.

The last time he had seen him had been some 15 years ago, when he had just passed the Doka-trail, qualifying him to become a Gurkha in the British Army in India. His proud smile had died when he had entered the hut, seeing his granduncle lying on his bed, obviously close to death. His voice had been just a whisper, but his look had still been clear.

»Open the box, boy!«

He had gulped. More than the look of the ailing man, it had proven him that Uncle Prashant was about to die. He had grown up among hard people, and he had just entered the Army, but now, he had to fight back his tears.

The box was a small chest with carvings, and so far, his uncle had never allowed him to even touch it. Carefully, he removed the lid, and his eyes fell on its content: a Kukri, the traditional Gurkha knife, and an amulet showing an eye, tied to a leather strap. When he took out the latter, he noticed that a stray of black, curly hair was tied to it. He brought both the amulet and the Kukri to his uncle, and the old man showed a glimpse of his smile.

»This Kukri served me for 20 years when I served the British. I think you might have use for it now!«

Now, he had no longer been able to hold back his tears, but he had listened to his uncle when he continued to whisper:

»The amulet – do you remember about the witch?«

He nodded, unable to tell a dying man that he didn’t believe him. Uncle Prashant looked at him, and he added:

»I met her in my youth, when I was known as ›Tiny Tim‹! Maybe, you’ll meet her once, too! Promise me to wear the amulet, it will guide you!«

He had promised, and then, once again smiling, his uncle had breathed:

»Now, I am going to sleep! Ayo Gorkhali!«

Uncle Prashant had never woken up from that sleep, and shortly after the funeral, he had left to join the forces. Here, he had insisted on being called »Tiny Tim«, too, though he had read his Dickens and knew it was a mocking name and not a nom du guerre. He hadn’t been wearing the amulet all the time, to avoid questions from his comrades, but he had always kept it with his personal things.

The man who had quickly become »Tiny Tim«, even to himself, had however not seen his future in being a Gurkha soldier, though this had been his dream when he had been a boy. After just five years, the minimum for an honourable discharge, he had quit and started to work as a mountain guide and Sherpa instead. It was a descent from being a soldier, but Tiny Tim had somehow felt the urge to make contact with foreigners, and when he had finally befriended an Austrian alpinist, he had followed him to his country. In his eyes, the Alps were better hills in comparison to the Himalaya, but he had worked in Austria for a few years, until ten months ago, the country had been occupied by the Germans. One month later, he had lost his job, and Tiny Tim had known it had been because of him being not »Arian« enough. So, he had packed his belongings and went to Liechtenstein, where he had found work as a guide during the summer. Then, when the first snow had come, he had had enough money to turn the old hut hidden in the mountains into a winter quarter. Sometimes, he had looked at the amulet, hoping that it would lead him to a more promising and less tedious life, but so far, it hadn’t answered to his questions. Until now.

»Maybe, the witch has finally arrived!«

Tiny Tim Junior chuckled, but he then went for his cupboard, putting on the Kukri he had stopped wearing in public when he had arrived in Austria. Then, he tied the amulet around his neck, and again, he felt the warm tingle at his chest.

»Now, let’s see if Uncle Prashant told me everything about witch-hunting! At least, it will help me to pass some time!«

He grabbed another bag that contained some things he had bought when he had been wearing the amulet, things he had later wondered why he had even considered he would need them. He touched the cloths and the coiled leather ropes; then, he shouldered the bag, put on his snowshoes and left the hut, seeing where the amulet would guide him to.

***

Nesrin’s message had made all the girls, including Fiona, storm down the ladder. If the redhead was wondering why there were even more scantily clad girls, she kept it to herself. Marguerite had kept the post at the window, and now, she whispered:

»It’s just one of them!«

Fiona sneaked towards her and stared at the woman that had stopped on her skis and watched the house from some 20 yards’ distance. Lilly could see her jacket was dark brown, telling her it was the brunette.

The woman made a move, and Daisy, who had better eyes, whispered that she had drawn her gun. Lilly felt her throat get dry: they were six against one, but none of them had a firearm. If the woman attacked, it could end in a massacre.

However, the brunette now kept observing the house whilst slowly withdrawing, having to make small steps on her skis to do so. Fiona whispered:

»She must have seen your tracks – and she is assuming that you are armed, too! Now, she will get back to her friends!«

Lilly proposed:

»Perhaps, we can make it to the Police once she’s gone! I mean, this is Liechtenstein, not Austria! We could-«

Without taking her eyes from the slowly withdrawing woman, Fiona scoffed:

»This country has got no army and maybe 15.000 inhabitants! If the Germans want to invade, they can do so between lunch and coffee! And I am from England, as you may have noticed! So, whom do you think the Police will help? The foreigner from an island far away, accompanied by her group of merry women in undress, or the representative of the dictatorship from over the next mountain range?«

It seemed as if she wanted to stop the woman, but without a gun, Fiona had no chance. Suddenly, Sayana asked:

»If she escapes, will it be bad for us?«

»Well – yes!«, Daisy fumed, angry about their helplessness. Sayana now straightened – and then, she opened the door.

»No!«

Lilly could see how Sayana raised her arms and then, she yelled some words in her African idiom. The German aimed at her, but before she could fire her Luger, there was a crack, and then, the snow-loaden tree beside her started to move. The woman looked to her side and shrieked as the pine landed upon her, burying her under its branches. Sayana staggered and leaned against the door frame, but she showed a triumphant smile.

»What the hell-«

Fiona stared at her with disbelief, but then, she pulled herself together, slipped into some boots and told Lilly, the only one dressed, to follow her. They approached the fallen tree, and Fiona picked up the gun, aiming at where she could hear the brunette ache.

»Let’s get her inside!«, Fiona ordered.

***

Eva Heyden looked down on what she mockingly called the »village centre«. Malbun had some 300 inhabitants, but it was a scattered settlement, meaning that most houses were spread over the hills, with dozens or even hundreds of yards between them. Even the village centre in the valley was just a group of some ten houses around the small church. Eva knew from her own experience that even things like coffee or canned food had to be fetched from the next bigger village, and now, in the midst of winter, this meant a walk of several hours.

 She sighed and sipped from her tea she had brewed, since the lack of coffee had forced her down on one cup a day. She thought of Vienna, where she had been able to have as much coffee as she wanted, together with her friends and surrounded by the mansions and streets of the foregone Empire. However, since last March, this life was also lying in the past.

Eva was half Jewish – not by faith, but, according to the weird laws of the Nazis, by race, since her father had been a jew. It could almost be called luck that Aaron Heyden had died two years ago and therefore hadn’t had to witness the establishment of a bunch of antisemitic restrictions only weeks after the Germans had occupied Austria.

Most of these laws didn’t affect her directly, as they were targeted against »full jews«, but in May, her doctoral supervisor at the University had told her with regret that he could no longer take care of her, and in June, she had lost her job as his assistant, plus her privileged access to the lab. Old friends and fellow students began to avoid being seen with her, and when a Star of David had been smeared at her cupboard, Eva had decided not to return to her lectures for the time being.

For some two months, she had lived from the remnants of her inheritance, allowing her to keep her single room and to live her life for some time, when her landlady had told her that two men had asked for her when she had been absent, and then, they had told that they needed to look for something at her room. Since they had been Germans, the landlady hadn’t dared to refuse.

Her room had been in a mess; obviously, the men had searched for something – and Eva had an idea what it was. She opened the lid in her chimney and felt for the notebook clad in wax paper, sighing with relief that the German agents hadn’t found it. However, they would soon come back, and then, they would start asking her – until she talked, whether she wanted or not.

Eva had packed some clothes, the book and all cash money she could scrap together, and she had left Vienna that very evening. She hadn’t dared to visit one of her friends, for too many of them had proven to be all too delighted by the new rulers, and in addition, a fellow student couldn’t help her against the German Police. So, she had decided to not only leave Vienna, but also the land.

The problem was that there weren’t many options. Both Italy and Hungary were allied with Germany, and they would have sent her back at the border. Eva had thought of Switzerland, but when approaching the border, the presence of troops controlling others who wanted to escape the new rule had persuaded her to try the last state bordering Austria. In Liechtenstein, she could hide for a few months, maybe earn some money, and then get a passage through Switzerland and to France.

She had to walk through the forest to avoid the official checkpoint, but she had made it to Liechtenstein where she had decided not to go to the capital, but to go to one of the small villages, disguising as a wannabe writer who wanted to work on her novel in seclusion. And so, she had ended up in Malbun, where one of the peasants had rented a cottage consisting of one room for half of her money to Eva. At least, it had an oven, and each week, he went to the next village and took her with him.

Except for these expeditions to buy food, Eva had indeed written, though anyone interested in her novel would have wondered about the lack of a plot – if he had been bale to read the formula. Also, she had started to do long walks in the mountains, but stopped doing so when the snow came.

»Perhaps, I should ask my landlord for a pair of snowshoes! If I have to spend one mor day inside, I will go insane!«

She looked at her right, where she could see the roof of another cottage. It was more than twice the size of hers, had running water and an outhouse, and it would have cost her three times the money she paid for her hut. The owner tried to rent it to the few tourists that had started to come to Liechtenstein, even during the winter, and a few days ago, she had indeed seen a woman on skis near the cottage.

»Last year, it could have been me and some friends! And now, All I have is my life and what is left of my work!«

She shook her fist at the vague direction of Berlin, wishing the Führer a premature death. She gasped when she saw someone approach; it was someone skiing, and he came down the hill, sliding towards her. When she came closer, Eva saw it was a tall woman.

»Don’t worry, I am only passing through!«

Obviously, she thought that Eva had meant her by her shaking fist. She mumbled an apology and wanted to withdraw into her hut when the other woman asked:

»Are you here for the winter holiday, too?«

Eva felt alerted when she heard the woman was from Northern Germany. So, she used her alibi of working on a novel. The woman smiled, though her eyes looked a bit cold.

»Well, if you get bored of being alone, my colleague and I are living just over the hill! Maybe, you want to come over for some chit-chat, and a nice cup of tea with a little rum!«

She continued her way, and Eva looked after her. Again, she felt the hurtful memory of gossiping with her friends over some coffee or wine, and she thought if perhaps, she should follow the invitation. This woman seemed to be quite nice, at least for a German, and perhaps, she could forget about the tedium of her exile for a few hours.

***