Tsura: A World War II Romance
Christmas came and went. Tsura spent Christmas day at the hospital to distract herself, knowing that if she stayed home waiting for the phone to ring, she’d go insane before nightfall. Yes, she risked missing his call, but she reassured herself that she’d stay home the following day. A good idea, as it turned out, since Mihai called that day to say that he’d finished his work, but wanted to go visit his grandfather.
Tsura scowled at the phone. Was that some kind of code? Did it mean she should leave town because it wasn’t safe? Or that Andrei was in danger? But then in the next second he told her he would be back in a few more days and he looked forward to giving her the Christmas present he was picking up. Again her mind went to Andrei. Did that mean he’d be bringing Andrei back? Did she dare hope?
She wanted to ask for some kind of clarification, but then he hung up. When he came back, they were going to create a secret code so that if he needed to, he could give her real information over the phone. Make sure to buy a hog’s head at the butcher’s could mean, you’re in danger, get out now. Or, honey I was going to pick up some fresh flowers, could mean, don’t worry, everything’s fine, no one knows our secrets, oh and by the way, I’m bringing the love of your life home with me.
The days felt tortuously long. Since Mihai had indeed called, they must be safe enough for now. He only said she should run if he didn’t call. And if he’d been allowed a phone call it meant they hadn’t discovered him and tossed him into a deep, dank prison somewhere. Right? Not that the image didn’t still regularly haunt her dreams.
But no, everything was fine.
She repeated this over and over to herself to calm her choking worries. She volunteered at the hospital even when she wasn’t on the schedule. More days passed. She’d just cleaned up and changed out of her work clothes after a long shift when a knock sounded at the apartment door. Tsura’s heart jumped.
Was Mihai finally back? Devil. Her shoulders slumped. Mihai had keys, he wouldn’t be knocking. It was more likely Elena. Tsura opened it to find Radu standing there, two bottles of champagne in hand.
“Radu is here, now the party can begin!” he said, waving the bottles.
Tsura blinked in confusion, and then it hit. Oh, yes. It was New Year’s Eve. Other nurses at the hospital had mentioned it, but Tsura hadn’t really been paying much attention. She’d wanted to get home and go to bed.
But now that Radu was standing here, she remembered that Mihai had invited him to go with them to Elena’s to celebrate. In her worries over Mihai, Tsura had forgotten about the party completely. At least she’d bathed recently.
Radu sauntered into the apartment. “Where’s Mihai?”
Across the hall, Elena opened her door and peeked out.
“Why hello! And who is this handsome man I find lurking outside your door, Alexandra?”
Tsura smiled, trying to gear herself up for a night of being friendly when all she really wanted to do was sink into bed. “Elena, this is Mihai’s friend, Radu. Radu, my neighbor, Elena.”
“Enchanted,” Radu said, bowing to kiss her hand. Elena giggled at the gesture.
“Oh yes, you will do quite nicely,” Elena leaned in to him and whispered. “Come meet my sister-in-law, Cristina. Now she will have someone to kiss at midnight!”
Radu grinned at Tsura. Aha. She should have known it hadn’t been Mihai asking his friend to the party but rather Radu who’d wrangled the invitation so he could see Cristina again.
Tsura shook her head ruefully. Cristina wouldn’t be happy about Radu’s sudden appearance. She’d been vocal about her dislike for Radu on several occasions when she and Tsura walked home from the hospital together. Funny though, because as much as Cristina “loathed him,” she kept bringing him up.
Radu eagerly crossed the hall to Elena’s door and Tsura followed behind them.
“Where’s Mihai?” Elena echoed Radu’s earlier question, looking behind Tsura in confusion as she entered Elena’s apartment.
“He’s been away on business.”
“For how long?” Elena asked.
Tsura shrugged. “About a week now.” She hoped she hid her anxiety. He was fine, she assured herself again… But was he? Why hadn’t he called again? It had been five days since he’d last contacted her. Five days. So much could happen in five days and—
“You were alone on Christmas?” Elena’s voice interrupted her thoughts, going so high-pitched that Tsura all but winced.
Tsura nodded. “I volunteered at the hospital for most of the day to keep busy.”
“No, no, this is not good!” Elena proclaimed. “You should have come over! Holidays are for family and friends.” She looped her arm through Tsura’s. “Thank goodness they didn’t try to make my Klaus work on Christmas—these government employers don’t think a thing about family, do they? Even on one of the most important holidays of the year! Bah, they are too busy staring at their maps and their numbers to even notice! Fine, fine, but don’t drag the rest of the good family men and women with them, I say.”
Tsura smiled and went to help Elena in the kitchen while Klaus slung Dieter over his back and chased the toddling Brigitte who ran from him with gleeful shrieks.
Cristina was chopping eggplant at the sink, looking particularly pretty in a soft pink dress. Elena must have cajoled her into wearing it since it was nothing like the normal sturdy wools she usually favored. Radu leaned against the bar beside the kitchen, his normal swaggering confidence seeming off kilter. He swallowed hard as he watched her for a long moment before clearing his throat and tossing a smile her direction. Cristina looked up, noticing him for the first time. Her eyes went wide in shock for half a second before she went back to her task, dismissing him from her notice as if he were a particularly annoying fly. In spite of everything, Tsura couldn’t help grinning. When was the last time a woman had not fallen at Radu’s feet when he flashed that hundred-watt smile?
Tsura looked back at Klaus and the children with the same mixture of awe and loss she always felt whenever she was around this family. Klaus was pretending to be some kind of monster while the children flocked around him, trying to tackle him to the ground and shrieking with laughter.
“Alexandra, did you hear me?” Elena asked.
“Oh, sorry, what?” Tsura turned to her. “Did you ask me something?”
Elena looked at her, then beyond to where the children played with Klaus. “I’m sorry that the babies have not come yet for you. But there’s time.” She nudged Tsura in the hip. “And the trying is certainly fun in the meantime, no?” She laughed and Tsura forced herself to smile, along with a genuine blush.
Elena laughed and pinched one of Tsura’s cheeks. “Still blushing, my little bride, you are so funny!”
Tsura helped Elena and Cristina finish preparing the food. In wartime, it wasn’t the elaborate seven-course meal most Romanians had on New Year’s Eve, celebrating until dawn. But Elena must have saved up because she had meat for both the traditional Romanian sarmale and toba, a German food where meat scraps of all kind were stuffed into a sheep’s bladder, then cooked, sliced, and served.
They started with appetizers at ten o'clock, bread with salată de vinete, eggplant salad. Irmgard and Dieter were still awake, though by the way they were rubbing their eyes, Tsura thought they wouldn’t make it past the first course. Elena chatted happily about all the latest building gossip she’d heard, joked with Klaus and the children, and asked Radu question after question about his job and if he had any special women in his life. Radu, for his part, kept flirting with Cristina. She appeared completely uninterested, which seemed to make Radu even more determined.
Elena had cranked the radio up loud, a mixture of popular Romanian folk songs and the more danceable tangos. The next course was soup and Tsura ate it greedily. Only now she was realizing she’d barely eaten for the past week.
As midnight rolled near, Tsura’d had enough țuică for a happy blanket of warmth to settle into her veins but not enough to be drunk. The new year was beginning. 194
4. Perhaps it was the year that the war would end. She clung to the thought.
Ten minutes before midnight, she was dancing with a sleepy Dieter in her arms. He kept determinately trying to hold his head up, but a moment later it would droop against her shoulder again. Tsura laughed and twirled him around the room. Klaus and Elena danced close. He whispered something in her ear that made her giggle. Cristina had reluctantly agreed to dance with Radu, though she slapped his hand whenever he tried to move it lower down her back. This amused Radu greatly, so he kept doing it, obviously enjoying getting a rise out of her more than anything else.
A knock came at the door five minutes before midnight. Tsura wondered if it was another of Elena’s friends from the building. Almost everyone was awake to celebrate the new year, she could hear noise of others in the building, even in the stairwells. If this were a normal year and not wartime, people would be crowding the streets and balconies to watch fireworks.
“I’ll get it,” Tsura said, setting Dieter down on one of the couches they’d pushed back to make way for dancing. She opened the door and the smile stopped on her face.
“Mihai!” She flung her arms around him and breathed him in, clutching him tight. He was safe. They were safe. When she pulled back, he had an odd expression, a little stunned but also pleased. She let go of him and stepped back. She blinked, conflicted. While he was gone, she’d forgotten about all her sour feelings toward him. All she thought about was his safe return.
“Mihai!” Elena echoed, hurrying over. “What perfect timing, it’s almost midnight!”
Elena ushered him into the apartment and poured him a glass of țuică. He nodded at Radu and Klaus, then accepted the glass. Radu nodded back, but didn’t let go or look away from Cristina—who stared at the wall over his shoulder as if she was bored.
“I’m sorry my work kept me out of town so long,” he murmured to Tsura.
“Is everything all right?” she whispered back, glancing to make sure Elena and Klaus were out of earshot. She suddenly remembered his phone call and what he had said. “Was that talk about going to your grandfather’s house about Andrei? Is he here?”
A look of confusion crossed his face. “What? No. But all else is well.”
“Oh.” She blinked again, emotions flopping like slippery eels in her stomach. Still the relief that Mihai was safe. Disappointment that Andrei wasn’t here, but not as strong as she would’ve thought—her worry for Mihai had been too much at the forefront of all her thoughts the past few days. She shook her head to clear it.
“You’re here now,” she said louder. “That is all that matters.” She took his arm and led him into the room. She felt better when she could touch him and reassure herself that he was solid and safe and here.
The radio announced that it was only one minute until midnight. Mihai tossed back the glass of țuică he held. Even though it must have burned, a slight tensing of his jaw was the only sign of discomfort. He set the glass on the table.
“Dance with your wife until the new year!” Elena called out gaily. She resumed dancing with Klaus after waking Irmgard and Dieter. Groggily, they got off the couch and danced with each other, bobbing sleepily on their feet and half holding each other up.
“Do you want to miss the new year?” Dieter said harshly, rubbing his own eyes with a fist. “Go to sleep like the babies?”
Irmgard lifted her head haughtily and moved her tiny feet to the music.
“Shall we?” Mihai held out his hand to Tsura. She had a hundred and ten questions she wanted to ask him, but it could wait. She took his hand and they danced to the lively folk song.
Then the radio announcer began to count down over the music. Elena counted enthusiastically along with it, and soon everyone in the room joined her. Even Mihai. “Three, two, one! La mulți ani!”
Elena and Klaus kissed each other deeply. Tsura blushed when Mihai leaned over and placed a perfunctory quick kiss against her lips.
“Oh come on,” Klaus said, grinning over his wife’s shoulder. “Kiss her like you mean it!”
Tsura opened her mouth to make some joke to distract them, but then Mihai had her in his arms and dipped her backwards. She gasped at the unexpected move and that’s when Mihai kissed her. Her mouth had been slightly open from the gasp and Mihai’s lips were warm and soft. His tongue gently explored the contours of her lips and then dipped inside, touching the very tip of her own tongue.
Tsura felt her face flame all the way to the roots of her hair, even as her eyes flew open. She hadn’t realized she’d closed them. Mihai’s eyes were open, his irises taking on a silver quality in the dim lighting as his kiss gentled, nibbling and sucking on her bottom lip. She’d never been kissed by anyone except Andrei, and the feeling of it… Her breathing was erratic like she couldn’t get enough air. For a moment all she could think was, who knew his lips could be so soft, when he usually holds them in such a hard line? Followed by her next thought: oh God, Andrei is going to kill either Mihai or me if he ever finds out about this. Finally Mihai pulled her back to a standing position and released her. She pressed her hands to her cheeks and turned away from him.
Klaus gave an appreciative laugh, and proceeded to give his wife another long kiss. To Tsura’s surprise, she also saw Cristina and Radu were still kissing in the corner, and quite vigorously.
Tsura turned away and went to the kitchen to pour six glasses of champagne. She was still breathing unevenly, her usual composure completely rattled. First with the immense relief of Mihai finally coming home and then that kiss… a wave of guilt swept over her for thinking even one more second about the kiss. It was nothing. It was acting, merely her second face. Keeping up appearances in front of Elena and Klaus. She might be glad Mihai was safe because she wasn’t heartless, but she hadn’t forgotten who he was.
Taking a deep breath, she focused on pouring the champagne. It was the traditional New Year’s drink, but it was scarce these days, even on the black market. Where did Radu get his hands on it? Cristina pulled away from Radu, her face as nonchalant as ever and came to help Tsura. Tsura arched an eyebrow at her friend, but Cristina looked away, obviously not ready to talk about it. Klaus finally released Elena and they came over, all clinking glasses and wishing each other la mulți ani, many more years, and drank.
They stayed long enough for the sliced tobă, and then Mihai said he was sorry, but he was very tired after his trip. He told Tsura she could stay, but she begged off as well, and finally they were walking through the hallway. She couldn’t quite bear to have Mihai out of her sight again so soon.
“I’m so glad you are back home.” Safe. She didn’t have to say the last word. He understood.
“Glad to be back.” He closed the door behind them after they entered their apartment.
“You must be tired.”
He nodded, but didn’t move. He just stared at her for several long seconds. His eyes seemed brighter than normal. She clasped her hands together, then put them behind her back. Then that seemed silly. Why did she suddenly not know what to do with her hands? Wanting to break the strange moment, she looked away as she whispered, “Where did you go? What happened?”
Mihai rubbed his eyes. He looked so tired. There were lines around his eyes that hadn’t been there when he left. This war was aging them all prematurely. They’d be little old men and women before the thing was done.
He turned on a record and then directed her over to sit on the couch with him. They had to sit close enough to whisper. For a moment it felt strange to be close to him again after their kiss but then she told herself once and for all to stop being stupid. They were adults and they lived in an adult and dangerous world. It was two in the morning, but she could hear noise from their neighbors still celebrating the New Year. They were probably too busy to listen at their wall, but it was ingrained at this point to keep quiet.
“So where were you really?” Tsura asked.
“Three British intelligence officers parachuted in, two and a half hours from
Bucharest.”
Tsura was shocked. “And they were captured?”
“Within hours,” he said grimly. “They must have missed their target. And they didn’t know that the gendarmerie was offering twenty thousand lei for any information on strange travelers. They were turned in by a woman on a farm outside Plosca.”
“Did the Germans interrogate them?” She swallowed hard. “Torture them?”
He laughed, and she looked over at him in surprise. “I was called in as a translator, but the Gestapo didn’t get to ask a single question. Killinger was red in the face the whole three days we stayed there, demanding to question them or transport them to Berlin.” The half-smile was still on his face. “It was a devil of a thing not to show how glad I was that the Romanian authorities aren’t letting themselves be bullied anymore. I think it’s a sign of things to come.”
“How, though?” Tsura frowned. “I thought Hitler could pressure Antonescu into doing anything he wants?”
Mihai shook his head and waved a dismissive hand. “Hitler has bigger things on his mind. Romanian officials are starting to think what happens about after the war. They want to make bridges with the Allies. Protecting these British spies is only the beginning.”
“So they weren’t being tortured for information by the Romanians either?”
Mihai shook his head. “From the little we could find out, they’re being treated very well. Even kept in a house, not a jail. And the Brits are smart. They said they were sent with messages for Romania from their government, so we are treating them like ambassadors. If they claim official business, the Germans can’t touch them.”
“What do you think they actually came for?” Tsura whispered.
“No clue.” He shook his head. He dropped his voice even lower, brushing her hair off her shoulder to whisper in her ear. She almost pulled back, but then reminded herself this was the only way to talk about such secrets.
“But my hope,” his gray eyes glinted as she turned to face him, their faces so close they were sharing breath, “is that Britain will finally discuss terms of protection from Russia if we can overthrow Antonescu and join the Allies. The Russians already tried to steal our land before the war even began and they’re going to want revenge for us going to war against them with the Germans.”
Tsura sucked in a breath. “Really? You think Britain would protect us?” She blinked a moment, distracted by looking at Mihai’s wide lips that had kissed her only a couple of hours ago.
Mihai pulled away an inch and looked at the wall as if in thought. “It’s mainly just Antonescu trying to hold onto the alliance with the Germans. With the Russians getting closer, everyone’s afraid, the country’s ripe for switching sides to join the Allies.”
Tsura felt a thrill run down her spine at the thought. Would Romania do it? Finally join the right side of the war? But then another realization struck and she frowned. “Wait, if the Romanian officials wouldn’t let the Germans talk to the men—and you translate—then why were you away for a whole week? You didn’t go to your grandfather’s house, did you?”
He was quiet a moment, then shifted his body towards hers again so that they were touching all along their thighs and arms. He leaned in again. “First let me say, it was not Luca.”
She narrowed her eyebrows in confusion.
He took a deep breath. “One of my contacts heard reports of a one-legged man among the first refugees returned from Transnistria to Dorohoi.”
Tsura’s heart seemed to stop in her chest. She clutched Mihai’s arm. “How can you be sure it wasn’t Luca?”
“Because I went to Dorohoi.”
Tsura gaped at him. She clutched his forearm. “You should have taken me with you! You said the British POWs were captured near Plosca. Bucharest is on the way to Dorohoi from there. Why didn’t you stop and get me?”
“And put you in danger for nothing? Raise all your hopes only for it to turn out not to be Luca? No.”
“But it could’ve been! You didn’t have the right to make that decision for me.” Tsura pressed her hand against her heart as if she could outwardly calm its racing beat. “You should have told me and let me come.” Her jaw tensed so hard she thought it might crack. She stared Mihai down. “Tell me everything.”
So Mihai did. He told her about leaving as soon as it was apparent the Romanian officials were going to stall the Germans for weeks, maybe even months. He’d immediately taken a twelve hour train ride up to Dorohoi and arrived at the hospital only to find out the man had died half an hour before.
Tsura shivered at that, hand still pressed to her chest. Oh God, what if it had been Luca and then he’d died before they ever got to him? “And they let you see the body?”
Mihai nodded grimly. “I had to pay a large bribe, but yes, they did. And it wasn’t Luca.”
The air felt tight in Tsura’s lungs. “You are sure? Positively sure?”
Mihai nodded. “It wasn’t Luca’s face and the man was far shorter than Luca. His leg had been severed at a different place as well.”
Tsura sagged back into the couch, relief in every pore and cell of her body. It was not Luca. Luca had not died in a cold hospital surrounded by strangers, wondering if his own sister even remembered or cared about him.
“Next time you will take me with you.” Tsura’s voice was like iron.
Mihai looked like he was about to argue, but then he finally nodded his head. “All right, I’ll take you with me.”
Later after their nighttime ritual of changing and turning off the lights, Tsura closed her eyes and tried to sleep. Mihai was breathing easy and she thought he was already asleep when his voice suddenly came through the darkened room.
“Good night, Tsura. I’m glad to be home.”
The way he said home struck Tsura with a strange pang in her chest. She turned over in bed and hugged the pillow close. Her emotions felt too large for her body, she didn’t know what to do with them until finally they erupted in silent tears that tracked down her face.
She wasn’t sure if they were tears of relief that Mihai was safe, or fearful tears for Luca, who could so easily have been the dead body Mihai had seen. Maybe they were tears of longing for Andrei or because of her brief and unintentional betrayal of him tonight. Or tears of hope, daring to imagine that 1944 might be the year that the world righted itself and madness became sanity. That next year all those she loved who were far away would be near enough to hold in her arms once again.
Chapter 15