The Twins. Sheldon Cohen
there, so most of the people who work for him are from Germany. He has a factory in Virginia and needs some more men. The salary is great.”
“But you weren’t making a lot of money here as an apprentice.”
“Sigmund told him I’m over the apprentice stage and ready for anything. I got a lot of practice blowing those crazy shapes for research, and once you learn how to blow them, you can do anything. His cousin is looking for someone with experience. In fact, if I can prove that I know what I’m doing, I’ll become a supervisor in two years.”
“Did you give him an answer?”
“I told him I’d get back to him real soon.”
“Are you telling me that you were waiting to talk to me?”
“Yes.”
“Well, that’s a surprise, but you have to go where you can make a living. In addition, if I’m a good wife, I have to follow you. How are we going to get the money to go?”
“That’s the next thing I have to figure out.”
He was surprised that Helene was not opposed to the idea of his accepting a job offer in the United States. He returned to the shop to make the final arrangements. “Thanks for the offer about the United State’s job, Sigmund. My wife likes the idea, so I’m ready to go. It should be an adventure.”
“Good, I’ll write my cousin right away and make all the arrangements. I’ll tell him that you’re ready and you’ll be writing to him. Do that in about a week, and tell him that you accept his offer. He tells me that he loves it in the United States and that where he lives is just like parts of Germany with mountains and forests. You won’t regret it, and good luck to you and Helene.”
“I really appreciate it. It’s great that you thought of me, but I’ve got one problem.”
“What’s that, Alfred?”
“It’s money. I don’t have it. I’ve been out of work for a long time now. I don’t know how I’d get there.”
“Can’t you get a loan from your brother or father?”
“I bet if I asked I could, but I don’t want to ask.”
“Why?”
“Helene and I want to say we did this on our own and didn’t need help from the old man or Werner.”
“That’s pretty commendable, but it won’t get you there.”
“If you lend me the money, I swear I’ll pay you back out of my pay from your cousin. I’d even work it out with your cousin so that he would send you twenty percent of my paychecks until it’s paid off, with interest.”
That came as a surprise to Sigmund. He regained his composure and said, “That sounds like a pretty good deal, and something in better times I would jump at. The problem is I’m strapped. You know I’m just making ends meet since I lost the two main accounts. Even if I could come up with the money, what if something happened to you like the boat sunk or lightening hit you; that’d be the end of my investment. Lending money is a complicated business. I don’t think I could risk it now, and even if I could, I don’t have it. Fare to the United States, plus some living expenses, is a big chunk of money. I’m sorry. But I do have another idea for you.”
“What?”
“My cousin. He’s anxious for experienced help. Maybe he’d be willing to put the money up front and take it out of your pay for a few years. That’s a thought. Do you want me to ask him?”
“Is it okay to do that?”
“Look, I’ll just say you’re anxious to go to work for him and you’re trying to raise the money for the trip, but if you can’t, would he be willing to loan it to you? It doesn’t hurt to ask.”
“As long as you think that wouldn’t screw up my chances, okay.”
“It won’t. Let’s see what I can arrange.”
“I appreciate it, Sigmund. Thanks. How long do you think it’ll take?”
“Probably a few months. My cousin is shooting for a target date of about three months at the latest. So we’ve got time. I told him good things about you so don’t let me down. We’re both working with you in mind. I’m keeping him interested.”
“I sure hope you’re right, Sigmund. I owe you one. Thanks again,” said Alfred visually relieved.
CHAPTER 11
Frieda Brunner was born in Austria in 1886. Her father was a strict disciplinarian Lutheran minister. Her mother stayed at home raising their three children. Frieda was the youngest, and her father’s goal for her was to do as all women should, and that was to marry early, raise a family, and serve her husband as the bible demanded. A rebellious Frieda often came into conflict with her father, and she chafed at the strict discipline. At age eighteen, she became engaged to the son of a customs official. Her fiancée, age twenty-one, was attending the University of Vienna and graduation was in one year. The plan was for them to marry as soon as he graduated and obtained a good job. Frieda, rather then stay at home any longer, took the position at the Augsberg beer hall with the intention of getting on her own and away from her father and working until her fiancée’s graduation. The money she saved would give them a good start.
Frieda was as happy as any girl could possibly be. She was deeply in love and the last thing she ever expected was the kind of letter she received from her fiancée.
My dear Frieda,
I have to tell you something that is painful for me and I know will be painful for you as well. I am breaking our engagement for I have been seeing another girl, and we are to be married. My own father warned me about this possibility. He said that our absence from each other was not a good thing. He was right. You know how much love I held for you, but I must be realistic and allow you to go on with your life, as I must with mine. I wish there was an easier way to do this, but there was no chance I would be seeing you in the near future. So I bid you goodbye. There will always be a special place in my heart for you. Horst
Frieda became dizzy and light-headed. Her heart skipped a beat. She crumbled to the ground. Heidi rushed to her side. “What’s wrong?” she said.
Frieda looked up at Heidi. Tearless, her eyes blank, her mouth a thin slit, she handed Heidi the letter. She read, her face a mask of concentration. At first, sadness masked Heidi’s face, but suddenly her expression changed to one of hatred. “My God,” she said, “all I can think of is that you are better off. Any man that could do this is not worth having. There’s no excuse for not looking you in the face when he tells you goodbye. You should be grateful he showed what kind of a man he is now instead of after the wedding.”
That afternoon they went to work. Frieda went through the motions, her mind blank.
In the evening, she approached a customer: Alfred Stegerwald.
Frieda served the stranger that night and the three men who later joined him. She worked in a mechanical way, her mind reeling from the shattering news that had come in the letter. Heidi was right. She would have to forget this insult to her femininity and self-esteem. As the evening dragged on she became angry, but it was the kind of anger that focused on one man, not all men. Men told her she was desirable. She would not let this insulting and cowardly act of her former fiancée bring her down to despair and destroy her self-image.
When she whispered in her customer’s ear that night, she would prove to herself that she was still desirable. When the second stranger came to her room, it was only further confirmation that she was right.
Two weeks later, she missed her menstrual period. This was an unusual occurrence, as she had been regular since she was fourteen years old. She confided this fact to Heidi.
“Could you be pregnant?” Heidi asked.
“Yes,