Escape from East Berlin by Andy Marino

Author:Andy Marino
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Scholastic Inc.

DECEMBER 22, 1961

Hallo, Schneider.”

It is three o’clock in the morning. This voice on the other end—this “Frau Schneider”—doesn’t sound weary, or tired, or annoyed. To Marta, she sounds like she always does. Like she’s been sitting by the phone. Like answering strange calls is her job. For all Marta knows, it is.

“Hallo.” Marta considers them to be on friendlier, more personal terms now. “This is the ghost of Christmas past.” She stands in the darkened kitchen, bare feet on the frozen linoleum, keeping her voice low.

“How are things in Berlin?” Frau Schneider says.

Marta closes her eyes, remembers her latest assignment from Harry. She’s still not allowed to write anything down. She doesn’t want to mess up the order of the code words. “We had some more snow. Not as bad as Dresden.”

Outside on Bernauer Strasse, a dog barks. The grepos have installed dog runs along certain sections of the border fence—big German shepherds chained to long crossbars, giving them space to roam. And hunt. And snap at anyone who comes too close. At night, she can hear their lonely cries.

Poor pups must be freezing. She hopes the grepos dress them in coats.

“I hope the weather didn’t change your plans.”

“No,” Marta says, “everything’s on schedule. As long as there’s a little bit of green.”

“There’s plenty.”

“That’s great!” Marta says, wincing. Too loud. The walls here are very thin.

Frau Schneider seems to hesitate. When she resumes speaking, there’s something different about her voice. “You know,” she says, “I once lost someone I loved who tried to leave and never came back.”

Marta freezes. What does Frau Schneider know about her?

“I’m sorry,” Marta says.

“It’s all right.” There’s a pause. In the living room, Penelope whines in her sleep. The kitchen is bathed in pale blue light from a streetlamp outside. Everything has an underwater glow—the toaster, the Riga clock, the table. “It does get better, you know. We find ways to keep going. This is one of them.”

Marta doesn’t need to ask what Frau Schneider means by this. She understands. Since the morning “out back” at her cousin Harry’s, when she was brought into the escape plan, Marta hasn’t needed to chop the day up into little snippets of time. No more okays. Just regular days defined by a goal. Something to be done in Stefan’s memory—something important, and daring.

“Thank you,” Marta says. “I hope I get to meet you someday.”

Suddenly, the kitchen light comes on. Marta slams the phone down into its cradle and opens the refrigerator door. Her heart pounds as she leans into the fridge, pretending to rummage.

“Marta.” Her father’s voice. She grabs a plastic container, shuts the refrigerator door, takes a moment to compose herself, and turns.

Her father is standing in the doorway. He’s wearing his bathrobe and rubbing his eyes. “It’s three in the morning,” he says. “Who were you talking to?”

“Nobody!” Marta says brightly. “I was just getting a snack.” She holds up the container to find that it’s little pieces of chicken liver for Penelope. She sets it down on the table.

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