Chapter 29: One Good Day
The next morning I woke to the sound of John humming to himself quietly. I looked up at him, and he smiled weakly down at me.
"Are you.... humming?" I asked, feeling a little alarmed.
"Why, yes. Do you have a problem with that?" John said, looking quite at ease.
"I do when it wakes me up," I said, giving him an irritated look.
John chuckled and kissed my forehead and continued to hum to himself.
"What has gotten into you?" I asked, sitting up next to him.
"You were right, living in regret and remorse will never change the mistakes I have made, and I only have a short time left on this earth. I am going to enjoy every last moment I have left," John said with a resolute sigh.
I hadn't seen John look happy in years. When John and I were young, he always seemed to be smiling and laughing and making jokes. He had never been a serious person until the war. John's ease and relaxed features reminded me of the boy I had known.
"You look better," I said.
"I feel a little better. Do you think I would be allowed to go outside?" John asked, looking excited at the idea. It amazed me how young he looked when he smiled. "I would like to explore the gardens out back," John said, looking eager to get out of the hospital if even for a day.
"I'll go ask George, then," I said with a bright smile.
I walked down the hall and went upstairs to Edith's bed. George spent most of his time there, and even when he was away doing other things, Edith usually knew where he was and what he was doing. I approached Edith's bed; she was sitting up and reading a bright red book.
"What are you reading?" I asked as I approach the end of Edith's bed.
"Pride and Prejudice. George brought it from his house yesterday," She said, putting the book down. "How's John?" Edith asked, switching her focus.
"Better, I woke up to him humming," I answered, sounding a bit puzzled at the fact.
"Humming?" Edith said, looking worried, but she still smiled. "That's good then," She added.
"Yes I think so, do you know where George is?" I asked, scanning the room.
"I believe he is downstairs in his office," She said with a shy smirk. She always did that whenever George's name happened to come up.
"John wants to go see the gardens in the back," I added excitedly.
"It's beautiful out there. Sadly, some of it was destroyed when the town was attacked. But it is still quite beautiful out there, some roses have just begun to bloom," Edith said with a sigh of contentment.
"Sounds like you have spent quite a bit of time in the garden," I said with a coy smile.
Edith smiled in return, looking like a guilty school-girl who has just been caught with her hands in a cookie drawer. "Yes, George and I have been down to the gardens a few times since I have been here," Edith said casually.
"You do like him, don't you?" I asked.
"I must admit, I do like spending time with George," Edith said with a half-smile.
I rolled my eyes, "Alright, well, I have to go see if it would be okay to take John outside."
"Have fun," She said, returning her attention to her book.
I made my way downstairs and tried to find the offices. The hospital was extensive and had many rooms and very long hallways. George told me later that it was once a great hospital until the war hit, and bombs were dropped. Part of the hospital had collapsed, but when the city had been attacked, they had no place for the casualties, so they did their best to repair the building and turn it into a semi-functional hospital again. The staff of the hospital was few, and only 3 or 4 Doctors still remained in the city after the attack. George had been the first to volunteer to help with the hospital, and eventually, more and more Doctors came and volunteered to work, however, the hospital was still quite understaffed.
I found my way to the bottom floor and asked a nurse where I could find George. She pointed me down a dimly lit hallway. I found a room marked 'office.' I gently knocked, and the door slowly creaked open. I saw George resting his head on his arms. He was breathing deeply, and when I got closer, I could see that his eyes were closed, and he was asleep. I knew that George worked hard to make up for the inner guilt he felt over the actions of his brother and the choices he himself had made out of fear. He was one of the few people I knew who understood the guilt I felt over the decisions of my father. I knew that no matter how hard George worked, he would never truly recover from such crippling guilt. He looked exhausted, and I didn't want to wake him.
I turned to leave, but then I heard, "Beth?"
"Hello," I said, meekly, turning to face him. George rubbed the sleep from his eyes and gave a small smile. "I'm sorry if I woke you," I added.
"That's quite alright. I shouldn't have allowed myself to fall asleep in the first place," George answered.
"You work very hard," I said, trying to sound understanding and sympathetic.
"Indeed, I will admit that this job can tear away parts of you," George said as though he were simply thinking out loud.
"I'm sorry," I said, knowing what he meant.
"It's not your fault, I apologize. What can I help you with?" He asked cheerfully.
"John is feeling up for exploring the gardens outside," I said, happy to change the subject.
"Do you need a wheelchair?" George asked.
"Well, yes, but also, is it safe for him to be outside?" I asked anxiously.
"I don't see why not, fresh air might do him some good. John deserves to enjoy the days he has left." George said, getting up from his chair.
"I was surprised that he felt up to it," I said with excitement in my voice.
George looked down at me, and I saw a hint of sadness in his face as he smiled, ��Beth," He paused for a moment, "This will not change John's illness."
I looked up at George's face and saw that it was full of remorse and sadness, "I know," I answered, looking down at my feet.
"I just do not want you to think that this changes anything," George said, placing his hand on my shoulder. "I'm sorry."
I nodded, trying to focus on anything other than what George was saying, "Can you get me a wheelchair, please?" I insisted, sounding more impatient than I felt.
George nodded and led me back into the hallway. He quickly acquired a wheelchair that sat in the corner of one of the dark empty hospital rooms. I promptly took it back to John, who was sitting against the wall, looking anxiously excited like a young child. I couldn't help but smile that his face lit up when I approached him.
"You are so beautiful, you know that, right?" John said with a bright smile.
"What? No, I am not; I am skinny and pale," I said with a shy grin.
John grabbed my arm and pulled me down to him. He slowly kissed me as sweetly and tenderly as he could. "To me, you are the most beautiful woman in the whole world." He kissed me again and then let me go.
John had a way of taking my breath away without trying. He always seemed to know exactly what I needed to hear right when I needed to hear it. I paused and took a moment to hold as tight as I could to that moment for as long as I could.
"Are you sure you feel well enough to go outside?" I asked cautiously.
"Of course!" John exclaimed, sounding excited.
A nurse helped me get John into the wheelchair, and I covered him with as many blankets as I could find. As skinny as he was, I saw a hint of red that had returned to his cheeks, and for a moment, I could see the young, healthy boy he had once been. I knelt down and kissed his cheek.
"Now, what was that for?" John said with a sly smile.
"Do I need a reason?" I asked with a smirk.
"Of course not," John said with a wide smile.
With the help of a few nurses, we managed to get John downstairs and into the gardens. One of the nurses told me to keep it short, but I refused to let her limit the time John could have surrounded by nature and beauty.
As I slowly wheeled John around the gardens, patients roamed the dirt paths that led in all different directions. There were large trees that created beautiful patches of shade, and many flowers were in bloom. There was a large fountain in the middle of the garden that no longer produced water. Still, I could have easily pictured it once being an exquisite looking fountain that made the garden even more beautiful than it already was. John and I slowly walked through the garden, enjoying the open air, we walked in silence and allowed ourselves to listen to every little sound. The sound of birds chirping and leaves rustling in the cool breeze, we could hear the laughter of children outside the garden walls, and the sound of cars passing.
"I miss home," I heard John say softly.
"What?" I asked with surprise.
"I miss our home, this place reminds me of it. The smell and the colors all remind me of where we came from," John said, inhaling the air and taking a moment to appreciate the scent of fresh air.
"That place holds too many memories for me," I said, sitting on a nearby bench.
John smiled a little, "I never wanted to live anyplace else, you know? Home was just…home for me. I never saw any point in leaving. If it hadn't been for…well…for all of this, I would still be in Ort der Hoffnung worrying about when and how to ask you to marry me, and helping Mr. Becker in his shop." John said, looking lost in his own thoughts.
"I would be worrying about what dresses to wear around you," I smiled at the thought.
"I would be dreaming of the day I would get your father's permission to ask you to marry me, and worrying about how I would support us," John said, it went silent between us at the mention of my father.
"I'm not sure you would have ever gotten his permission," I said, playing with a piece of grass.
"He was cautious of me. He knew before I did that I would end up loving you," John said, taking my hands in his.
"He was good at things like that," I said, feeling a wave of anxiety spread through me.
"Do you know where he is?" John asked suddenly.
"No, I don't think it would matter even if I did," I answered, still staring at the ground.
"Beth?" John said, lifting my chin so that our eyes met, "Your father…he loved you," He said with a stern expression.
"My father is evil," I said, running my hands through the little hair that had managed to grow during my stay.
"He was weak," John answered.
"How can you say that? He locked me in a basement, he killed thousands of innocent people, and he shot Mr. Becker," I said, giving John a shocked expression.
John took a deep breath and took a moment before he answered.
"Beth, I will not excuse your father of his actions, but... he was always trying to protect you. He was sick with power and fear. I cannot tell you what he was thinking, but coming from someone who abandoned you and thought it was the only way to save you, his actions reflected the same fear I had for you," John said, looking pained by the choice he had made.
"You were trying to protect me, don't ever compare yourself to my father," I said, "My father would have killed you without hesitation."
John looked down at the ground and then back at me "Your father was a dark man, who was lost in his own moral battle. He deserves the punishment that is placed upon him, but Beth... he saw Rolf get me out of the camp. He let Rolf get me out," John said, placing his hand on my cheek.
"What?" I said, feeling suddenly breathless.
"He saw us. Rolf and I thought he would kill us right then, but he gave us a head start. He may not have been the one who opened the gates for us, but he didn't say anything when they opened either," John added slowly, trying to gauge my reaction.
"He nearly beat Rolf to death!" I said, utterly bewildered.
"I am furious he did that, but I don't think he had a choice. My disappearance could not go unnoticed, especially considering Rolf went missing at the same time." John said calmly.
"How do you know?" I asked, still stunned.
"Rolf would tell me what was happening amongst the guards. When he started walking you to your father's house, he kept an eye on who came and who went." John said, sounding like a spy.
"I was a pawn," I said, feeling anger take hold of me.
"Beth, stop. You know that isn't true," John said firmly, "Rolf cared about you very deeply." Those words seemed to hit him hard, and he stopped suddenly and took a moment to process his own words. "Rolf thought you would be safer with him. It also allowed him to get a glimpse into your father's movements," John said evenly.
"You two were spying on my father together," I said.
"It's in my blood, I suppose," John said with a smile.
"I don't know what to say," I answered, feeling shaken.
"I thought you deserved to know," John said.
I looked deep into John's eyes "My father saved you?" My voice wavered.
"Yes," John answered.
A painful lump formed in my throat, "I wish…I wish that changed how I felt about him," I said.
"You don't have to forgive him, but I wanted you to know what he did," John said.
I nodded and forced myself not to cry. I smiled and kissed John.
"Thank you for telling me."
John and I roamed around the rest of the garden, and I made sure we did not talk anymore about my father, but for a single second, gone as quick as it came, I was grateful for my father again.