Star Crossed Enemies

Chapter 7

As the day grew into night, Mark sat on the edge of the bed listening intently. He heard Helen snoring from the other room, and Hazel had grown quiet in the front room. He watched the moon slowly gravitate to the other side of the sky as time continued to wane on through the small crack of the boarded window. Mark carefully put his boots on and searched the closet for his gray coat. He found it hanging by his bloodied shirt and uniform top. He ignored the rusty colored stains and threw his jacket on. It was time to escape. 

He shoved the knight's cross in his pocket and eased the door open. Mark cringed as the floorboards creaked under his black boots as he slipped out into the hallway. He carefully made his way towards the front door and looked briefly in the living room. Hazel was sleeping restlessly on the couch. She tossed to the side, and her face was twisted from a nightmare he presumed. He watched for a moment before reaching out for the doorknob. He stopped as his fingertips touched the cold metal.

Why the hell am I hesitating?

Mark stood there with for a few moments trying to decipher what was holding him back. He turned his head to see Hazel was sitting up, looking at him with fearful eyes. Mark pulled his hand back to his side, keeping his eyes locked into hers.

"You can go. I just wish I had time to say goodbye to my family. Give me a day, and I will be ready."

Mark couldn't believe his ears. She was willing to sacrifice herself for saving his life, knowing he would follow through with his threats no matter what she had done for him. He clenched his jaw and attempted to grab for the front door again. His hand limply fell to his side. He couldn't do it. He couldn't leave. And that infuriated him more. He wasn't the same man that was shot all those days ago.

As much as he wanted to be as cold-hearted as he was before, Mark couldn't ignore the humanity that Hazel had made him realize he had lost. Overwhelming feelings of anger and confusion consumed him. At that moment, he knew his threats were worthless. He couldn't report the girl that saved his life, Jew or not. Clenching his jaw in frustration, he turned on his heel and marched back into his room. He gripped the wooden door and slammed it behind him. 

Mark paced back and forth, trying to calm his anger. Guilt ebbed and flowed through him, confusing his muddled mind. Guilt was something he hadn't felt in years. Now he couldn't shake off that feeling after seeing the fear in her eyes just moments ago. He sat down on the bed, contemplating his next move. He couldn't think of one with the roar of emotions overwhelming him. He threw back the sheets as he kicked off his boots, deciding sleep was a better option than facing this right now.

***

Once the door slammed shut, Hazel felt her chest tighten as tears started to flow. She couldn't even attempt to interpret why he didn't leave. All she could feel was the fear that she was going to die without seeing her family again. She tried to lie back down but found herself staring towards the hallway half expecting Mark to change his mind. She continued to sit rooted to the spot fearing he would flee at any moment, ready to report her and have her executed. Hazel's chest burned from the anxiety gripping her. 

As the sun started to rise, she hesitantly stood up on shaky legs and carefully walked to his room. She cracked the door to see his boots were sitting on the floor neatly by the bed, and he was fast asleep. She carefully stepped back and walked back to the living room, hoping she could sleep as peacefully as he seemed to be. She realized after staring at the hallway for an hour; it was an impossible feat. 

Throughout the day, Hazel ignored Mark as much as she could. She delivered his food and left without glancing at him. She found herself unable to function normally with fear still paralyzing her. Everything was a blur. She wasn't sure how much time had passed, what she accomplished through the day, or what was said to her. It was as if she had shut down internally.

"Hazel, are you alright?" asked Helen as she sat down next to her. 

Hazel nodded quietly, unable to say anything. She glanced at the clock, surprised to see it was already late afternoon. Time had moved swiftly while she was consumed with her inner torment.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"Did that Nazi do anything to you?"

"No. Nothing like that. Everything is fine. I'm just not feeling too well."

"Your parents are expecting you tonight. I can't make another excuse for you today, I'm afraid."

"That's fine. I will go now. I want it over with."

Hazel stood up and threw on her coat, anticipating the worst to come. She fumbled with the doorknob while running her hand through her hair, trying to untangle the waves. She huffed in despair, knowing she needed to get her hairbrush to look anyway decent. She marched to her room and entered without knocking. 

Hazel ignored Mark as he jumped in surprise and turned to the mirror, grabbing the hairbrush roughly before dropping it to the ground. She sighed again becoming even more frustrated. She didn't want to go to her parents' house, she didn't want to face Mark ever again, and she was definitely sick of this war.

Hazel watched through the mirror as Mark struggled to sit up in the bed. She gripped the brush as her heart started to race. The smooth wood pushed into her clenched hand painfully as she ran the bristles swiftly through her hair. She sat the brush roughly on the dresser, feeling her body shake with fear. She was ready to bolt through the door before he blurted, "Humanity."

Hazel slowly turned around to face him. She was surprised to see him standing now in that split second from sitting on the bed. Her chin tilted up as she felt her face slowly grow warm with surprise. She imagined they were a vibrant peach color now as his blue eyes traveled down to her cheeks, noticing the color.

"What did you say?" she asked slowly.

"You made me realize my humanity. That's why I couldn't leave last night."

Hazel's eyes grew wide. Before Mark could say anything else, she found this was overwhelming. She couldn't have a conversation like this with him after she had experienced her own personal hell in her thoughts, preparing for the worst to come. Hazel turned, almost running into the mirror, before darting out the door. She quickly exited the cottage and made her way to the neighboring one trying to come to terms with what just happened. Before she could untangle her thoughts, she found herself in the living room of her parents' cottage. 

Everyone was gathered in the living room, enjoying their time together.

"Hello everyone," she greeted while taking off her coat, mindlessly.

Everyone nodded or waved in response. Hazel felt her stomach twist with knots as the night wore on. She noticed the napkin was wrapped in her hand with a death grip on her lap as everyone was finishing their dinner. The constant anxiety since early morning was making her feel nauseous and on edge. Mark's confession was still weighing on her mind. When Marylin and Hans went upstairs, Mr. Rosenzweig turned to Hazel with anger behind his eyes. 

"Have you gotten rid of that Nazi?" he asked.

"No, Papa."

He slammed his fist on the table. Hazel jumped in her chair in response to the sudden movement but stayed seated, staring at the wood in front of her. 

"Why, Hazel?"

"He's still healing."

"What does that matter? Get him out! I'm tired of telling you this."

"No," said Hazel quietly.

Everyone stared at Hazel in shock. The room was so silent a pin drop would sound deafening. Hazel felt her ears throb in the rhythm of her heartbeat from the shock of what she had just said. 

"What did you say?" asked Mr. Rosenzweig slowly. 

"I said no."

Aunt Karoline gasped. Mr. Rosenzweig's face twisted with rage.

"You better think about what you just said to me, young lady."

"I said no, and I meant no," said Hazel as she continued to stare down at the table. She was gripping the napkin with one hand underneath the table and her skirt with the other, feeling the tension rising in the room. 

"You're my child, and I won't have a Nazi in that house."

Hazel stayed silent, not wanting to argue. Her father's hand slammed down closer to her making her jump again in her chair.

"No, you listen to me, I want you to get over to your house right now and get that Nazi out," seethed Mr. Rosenzweig.

"I won't!" screamed Hazel.

The color in Mr. Rosenzweig's face washed away. Hazel looked up from the table and stared at her father's cold brown eyes before explaining, "He's not just a Nazi. He's a human being. I will not treat him the way Nazis have treated us as Jews. I will not stoop to that level."

Mr. Rosenzweig's eye twitched in agitation. 

"Oh, so you are saying my request is just as cruel as what Nazis have done to us? To our people!"

Hazel opened her mouth but, was interrupted by her father's thunderous roar. "How dare you put that Nazi on a pedestal after everything they have done to us. Your sister! Have you forgotten about her?"

Hazel remembered all too well. She remembered the many killings on the street and the screams of Jews being dragged away. She would never be able to forget seeing her sister shot and collapsing on the ground while running down the street. Hazel swallowed, pushing away those haunting thoughts. She threatened to burst into tears at this moment, but her father's disapproving frown made her think otherwise.

"I still stand by what I said. I refuse to be clouded by hatred," said Hazel as she stared at her father's cold expression. 

The cold expression melted off his face replaced with undeniable rage.

"No daughter of mine is going to talk to me that way, and that's why you are no daughter of mine."

Hazel felt her heart drop. 

Am I being shamed? Is my own flesh and blood disowning me? My own father?

"Jacob," said Mrs. Rosenzweig softly.

"No! I'm not taking it anymore. If she wants to save a Nazi's life, then she is a Nazi."

"Papa, you don't seem to understand," pleaded Hazel while tears streamed down her face.

"I don't know you. We don't know any Nazi lovers here," he persisted.

"Jacob, aren't you going a bit far?" asked Mrs. Rosenzweig gently with pleading eyes.

"No, I'm not. I don't have a traitor for a daughter. I'm the head of this house, and I say she's not part of this family anymore."

"Please, Papa."

"I'm not your father. I want you out of my house!" Mr. Rosenzweig roared as he stood up and pointed toward the front door.

"He's not a threat. You don't understand!" 

"You are not my child. And I will not be told what I do and don't understand. Get out!" he shouted as he slammed his fist against the table.

Startled, Hazel stood up from the suddenly violent behavior. She quickly put on her coat and ran to the door. She slammed it shut and rubbed her face as tears continued to build up in her eyes, blurring her view. She hesitated, hoping she could say something to calm her father from the sudden outrage. But she knew there was nothing she could say. He wouldn't listen. She squeezed her face tighter as tears continued to flow. The click from the front door opening made her lift her head from her hands to see Aunt Karoline.

"How could you!" she screamed as she slammed the door closed.

"Wh–Wha–" stuttered Hazel.

"Keep a Nazi in your house and save his life?"

Aunt Karoline walked toward Hazel with fiery eyes. Hazel took a frightened step back. Her Aunt's expression was terrifying. Hazel continued to step backward in the snow as Aunt Karoline approached her. 

"You stupid girl. I told your father you were trouble, but he didn't listen."

"Aunt Karoline, please" begged Hazel as she continued to step back.

"I'm not your aunt. You have no family now. You chose a Nazi over us."

Hazel glanced behind her and saw that her cottage was just within reach. Aunt Karoline continued to approach her with a dark look in her eyes.

"You brat. You Nazi lover. You brought shame to the family. Why did you have to be born?" yelled Aunt Karoline.