The Voice of Heart

8| The Help

At dawn, the husky rooster pierced the silence and put an end to a moonless night. Wilhelm got out of the bed. He was getting ready for work. On the wall-mounted clothing rack was his uniform, his cap and his black leather belt with the Wehrmacht eagle embossed on the buckle. Next to it, his Walther P38 pistol and his black leather gloves laid on a brown oak desk. He wore his uniform and put the pistol into a holster that was connected to his belt. Carrying a weapon became a mandatory for all German soldiers since a German Naval Officer was murdered at the Barbès-Rochechouart station by a resistance fighter.

It had been three days since Adeline was sick. Most of the time, she was in her bedroom. She was pale, lying languidly on the bed with a cool compress on her forehead. Sometimes she felt like her chest was tight so she had to work harder to breathe. Upper respiratory infection had swelled her vocal cords, making her voice sound raspy when she spoke. Last night he heard her coughing so badly that woke Jeanne up. She let out a dismay sigh and hurried to her bedroom. She stayed up late to take care of her until morning. As he was about to walk past her bedroom, he overheard Jeanne's voice speaking in a soft, agitated voice, "Oh my dear, your temperature is still high." He stood thoughtfully behind the wall. A feeling of affection rose up in his heart. It aroused his willingness to cherish and care for Adeline beyond measure. He took a few steps forward and stood by the door.

"Excuse me, Madam."

Jeanne turned to him.

"I noticed she hasn't recovered from fever for three days. I am worried if it's getting severe. There's a French doctor who worked for us, he can examine her. If you don't mind, may I offer my help to summon him here?"

A look of mild surprise passed across her tired face. With melancholic eyes, she looked at Adeline who was lying in pain. She hesitated, unsure of what to say. She had so much hatred for him. It would injure her dignity and self-respect, if the French knew she got along with the Germans. On the other hand, she really needed his help. She couldn't bear to see her daughter suffering from her illness. The power and heroism of a mother's love conquered her ego. She would do anything for her daughter's sake. She finally accepted his help; she nodded at him in agreement.

"Alright, we'll be here at four o'clock in the afternoon," He turned around and then walked out of the house.

Daylight passed. Wilhelm and a French doctor arrived in Adeline's house. They entered the sitting room where Jeanne was tidying up the mantelpiece ornaments. She set down her work once they appeared through the door. He introduced the doctor to her and then she steered him into Adeline's bedroom.

"Honey, the doctor is coming," Jeanne said to Adeline who had just woken up from a nap.

She told him about symptoms Adeline had. He sat at the side of the bed and took his stethoscope out of a leather Gladstone bag to listen to the sounds of her heart and lungs. After the examination, he began to explain his diagnosis to Jeanne.

"She had influenza. It's pretty bad so I must prescribe an antiviral drug for five days. Make sure, she takes it properly."

"Thank you for your help. How much does it cost?"

"Madam, you don't have to pay."

She was puzzled by his statement. "What do you mean?"

"Don't worry about it. He's . . . a good German" he was reluctant to praise the enemy because he thought it was a sensitive statement that would bother the French."

She was very surprised to hear that. She almost didn't believe in the recent moment she had experienced. The moment she considered as a record in the history of her life which she could make it as a topic to talk among her family.

"How long have you been working for the Germans?" she asked after battling against her will because she couldn't help with her intense curiosity.

He frowned. Her question was like a scathing insinuation to him, piercing straight through his heart like an arrow. He felt like he was accused of collaborating with the enemy. "I worked for the sick German and the sick French," he stressed the word 'sick' with such confidence that the French could understand he only dedicated his medical profession to the service of humanity, not for personal interests. He wasn't upset. He was just uncomfortable with it. "Ok, here's a story. In the night, a haughty German officer came to my house and asked me to work for them. I initially refused his offer but when he pointed his pistol at my face. I understood he was threatening me."

"The Germans know how to bring people into line."

"I don't know how many years will we have to live like this? I desperately want this occupation to be over."

He went into the living room where Wilhelm was waiting. From a distance, she discreetly peered through the gaps of a wooden partition wall. She saw them having conversations. She could hear their voices, their voices were quite audible. "How is Adeline? How bad is her sickness?" Wilhelm said, sounding worried. It indicated how much her daughter means to him. The doctor gave his answer, explaining in detail. When she heard the front door open and close again, she knew the doctor had gone.

Without hesitance, she came up to Wilhelm. They stood face to face. A flash of kindness was mirrored in her face. Only at this moment, she allowed the shadow of a smile to pass over her lips.

"Thank you very much for your help. I really appreciate it."

"No problem. I am glad to help you. I hope she'll get better soon."

She smiled at him. It was a meaningless smile, an affectation. She turned around and walked away from him. She started walking aimlessly through the house. She drifted off into deep thought. "He's kind. I should take advantage of him. Is it possible to ask his help to liberate my son from a prison camp? I guess it's impossible to tell what I am thinking. He's the occupier who has absolute power over the defeated," she sighed desperately.