Star Crossed Enemies

Chapter 3

Mark groaned in pain as he opened his eyes. He didn't remember this place. The last thing he remembered was a shadowed man that stood over him before shooting him for the third time. Mark looked down and saw his wound below his chest bandaged up. A young woman walked into the room and stopped in her tracks as he raised his head. Her gold colored eyes looked at him apprehensively. As she stood in silence, he took in her and his surroundings. 

Dark smooth curls framed her porcelain face, accenting the natural corral colored lips that were now parted revealing their full shape. Her soft skin looked youthful, but the extreme paleness suggested her health or living conditions were not as fortunate. The room was lit by a single oil lamp sitting on the dresser next to where the young woman was standing. The only window was boarded up with only a few cracks revealing the night sky outside.

"Where am I?" he asked hoarsely in German.

"You're in my house. You've been out for nearly three days."

Mark assumed he must be in Germany since the young woman responded back with a native tongue. He wondered how he managed to return to Germany. He moved to sit up and gritted his teeth as sharp pain overwhelmed him. 

"Stay there. You will only hurt yourself getting up," she said softly.

Mark grunted as he threw his body back on the bed, deciding to take the young woman's advice. He looked back at her curiously. She was still standing on the far side of the small room.

"What is your name?" asked Mark.

"Hazel. And, you?"

"Mark."

They continued to stare at each other in silence for a moment before Hazel spoke up.

"Are you thirsty?" she asked.

Mark nodded in response. Hazel left the room and returned with a glass of water in her hands firmly pressed to her delicate, curvy figure. He gently took it from her outstretched hands, noticing that they were trembling. He raised his head to drain all the liquid from the glass.

"Thank you," he said in a clear voice.

Hazel made a small nod and put the glass on the dresser.

"How's the pain?" asked Hazel.

"It's bearable, but I am in great pain."

"I gave you something for pain earlier. I don't have antibiotics. Unfortunately, you're going to have to fight off any infection yourself."

Hazel noticed the moisture building on his skin, slowly soaking the sheets.

"Are you hot?" 

"No, it's just the pain."

"Wait one moment."

Hazel walked out of the room and returned carrying a ceramic bowl with a washcloth, placing it gingerly on the nightstand next to Mark. Hazel dipped the cloth in the water and squeezed the excess liquid out. She started dabbing the cloth on his forehead with a shaky hand, making Mark sighed in relief when the cool moisture met his skin. She delicately cleaned off the sweat that was forming on his face and neck. He closed his eyes, feeling his body relax as the heat started to dissipate. 

Hazel fumbled with the cloth and dropped it at her feet. Mark opened his eyes, seeing a glimmer of metal fall out of her blouse. Hazel stood straight again and put the cloth next to the bowl. Mark felt the heat return to his body as he stared at the necklace illuminated by the oil lamp. He looked at her face in horror as he sucked in his breath. 

"Is something wrong?" asked Hazel.

Mark pointed at Hazel's chest with a shaky finger. Hazel looked down and saw the Star of David shimmering outside of her blouse. Her eyes widened in the same horror Mark just showed. She hastily stuffed the necklace in her shirt again and glanced up at Mark. His face was full of rage.

"You're a Jew?" he asked slowly.

Hazel knew she couldn't hide it any longer. 

"Yes."

"A Jew," he said again.

"I'm a person, to be more exact," she said firmly.

"A foul person," he spat as his lips shook.

***

Hazel felt anger boil inside her. She clenched her hands into fists, feeling her body grow rigid with fury. All fear suddenly left her. 

"How can you say that? I pulled you out of that street and into my home. I performed surgery to save your life and let you sleep on my bed. If it weren't for me, you would be dead out there!" 

"First of all, if it weren't for you Jews I wouldn't be at war getting shot at in the first place."

"If it weren't for Hitler, you wouldn't be at war. And I wouldn't be in hiding."

"I'm going to report you."

"Oh, be my guest, if you can figure out where you are," said Hazel, surprised at her own venomous words to the very person who made every fiber of her being want to run for her life.

Mark made a sudden move to sit up. Hazel ran to his side and pushed against his shoulders in protest, "Don't get up. You're injured and need rest."

"Get your hands off me!" he roared.

Hazel jerked her hands away from him in response to his scalding words. Mark flopped down on the mattress with his eyes squeezed shut in pain. Hazel knew that face of exhaustion was her queue to leave.

"I'm just going to leave the room. I'll bring you a bowl of soup later."

Hazel closed the door softly behind her. She could still hear Mark huffing on the bed in exhaustion and rage through the wooden door. She swiftly walked to the kitchen, wanting to swallow the fear bubbling up inside her that replaced the fury she just felt. She stirred the pot on the stove mindlessly watching the contents swirl with the motion.

"Are you hungry, Hazel?" asked Helen behind her,

"I'm getting something for Mark."

"His name is Mark?"

"Yes," answered Hazel as she poured potato soup into a bowl.

"How is he?"

Before Hazel could answer Helen muttered under her breath, "I was hoping he would die."

"He was very polite at first. But then he saw my necklace."

Helen walked over to Hazel and put a hand lightly on her shoulder. Her face looked panicked. 

"He saw your necklace?!"

"I bent over to pick up something, and the necklace fell out of my shirt. He hasn't been polite since."

Hazel tried to ignore Helen's exasperated expression as she turned around with the warm bowl in her hands. 

"Did he say anything ugly to you?" asked Helen.

"It's fine," answered Hazel avoiding Helen's glare.

"No, it's not fine! He's going now!"

Helen stomped towards Hazel's bedroom. Hazel kept on her heels with the bowl in her hands. She hastily placed the dish on the dresser as Helen marched in the room.

"Helen," pleaded Hazel.

Helen walked further into the room with fiery eyes.

"What did you say to her, Nazi?!" yelled Helen.

"Are you another filthy Jew?" retorted Mark.

"Why you–"

Hazel jumped in front of Helen before she could get to the foot of the bed.

"No, Helen!"

"He's belittling your people, and you are allowing it?!? I won't!"

"Helen, stop it!"

Helen took a step back and looked over Hazel's shoulder at Mark.

"I'm not a Jew. I'm here to protect Hazel from the Nazis. Because of them, she has lost friends and family."

"Helen....."

"Because of you filthy Nazis, she has lost more than you know!"

The last thing Hazel wanted was to bring up all the death. The material items they lost meant nothing to her. Except for the necklace that hung around her neck. She couldn't leave that when they fled Germany. It was the only piece her sister owned that she still had. 

"That's enough, Helen."

Helen took one last angry look at Mark over Hazel's shoulder and left. Hazel turned around and saw Mark looking furiously at the door.

"She actually called me a filthy Nazi! People who help and protect the Jews are just as bad as a Jew."

Hazel ignored him and turned back around. 

"I'm going to get you another glass of water to go with your soup."

Hazel shut the door behind her and took a deep breath. 

What have I gotten myself into? 

Hazel walked back in the kitchen and filled Mark's glass with cold water. She slowly made her way back to the room, trying to clear her thoughts before facing him again. Mark was still infuriated when she returned. She placed the glass of water next to his nightstand gently and picked up the bowl of soup. 

"Here's your food."

Hazel outstretched the bowl toward him. Mark glanced at it and didn't move.

"Is something wrong?" asked Hazel.

"You might have poisoned it."

"Why would I poison you after saving your life?"

Mark kept still staring at the bowl in disgust. Hazel waited patiently then decided to prove the soup wasn't deadly. She put a spoonful in her mouth and chewed the potatoes generously. 

"See," she said after swallowing.

"I'm not eating that."

"Why not? It's traditional German potato soup. I'm sure you will like it."

"You just put your nasty Jewish mouth on the spoon and contaminated the soup."

Hazel had enough. She threw her free hand up in the air. "Fine," she retorted.

Hazel slammed the bowl on the nightstand, causing some of the soup to slosh out.

"You'll eat it when you get hungry enough."

Hazel turned on her heel and quickly walked out of the room, slamming the door behind her. She marched into the kitchen and scanned the room for something to do. She picked up a dirty dish from the sink and cleaned it roughly.

What in the world was I thinking? 

Hazel was angry at herself and furious over Mark's harsh words. She doubted being a good human being meant anything during these dark days of uncertainty. She cleaned one dish after another, doing her best to push away the conflicting ethics that was now filling her mind. A knock on the front door erased them immediately. She nervously looked at the door and scurried to a corner of the kitchen where no one would see her.

"Hello, Gertrude!" said Helen from the living room. 

Hazel shot up from the darkness and rounded the corner to see her nineteen-year-old friend standing at the doorway. Gertrude lived in the other cottage nearby. Her dark brown hair was pulled back in a twist that rested on her head. Her hand was sitting delicately on her slender hips, and her chocolate brown eyes glittered with youth. Hazel envied Gertrude in many ways. She always looked like a model straight from a magazine. 

"Hi, Gertrude."

"You look like you've been mad at someone. Your cheeks are flushed."

Hazel placed a hand on her cheek and felt the heat rising from her skin. 

"It's nothing," lied Hazel.

Gertrude c****d her head to the side, "What is going on, Hazel?"

Hazel gave Helen a nervous look. She watched the older woman's plump shoulders shrug slightly in response. Hazel took a deep breath as she quickly considered her options. 

"Gertrude, I have to tell you something."

Gertrude looked at Hazel with a frown as she stepped closer to her. Hazel grasped her wrist lightly and led her to the bedroom door. 

"You trust me, right?" whispered Hazel.

"Why are you whispering?" 

Hazel put her finger to her lips, grimacing at her friend's loud voice. 

"Gertrude, you are my best friend, and I have never kept anything from you. I don't plan on keeping this from you either. Do you trust me?"

Gertrude's eyebrows came together in confusion as her plump lips parted, ready to ask more questions before she quickly nodded. Hazel opened the bedroom door slowly and peeked inside. Mark was still asleep, and his food was untouched. She let Gertrude take her spot to peek in as well. 

At first, Gertrude looked puzzled as she watched the man sleep quietly on the bed with bandages on his chest. She then noticed a German hat lying next to him and a pair of gleaming black boots in front of the bed. She gasped loudly. 

Hazel hastily put her hand over Gertrude's mouth. She kept her hand over her glazed-eyed friend as she shut the door swiftly. Hazel grabbed Gertrude's arm with her free hand and led her back to the living room. She slowly took her hand off of Gertrude's mouth, hoping she wouldn't scream in fright. 

"Oh, my God! Haz-Hazel what is he doing here?" asked Gertrude as tears started to form in her eyes. 

"I saved his life."

"What?!"

Hazel told Gertrude what happened three nights ago. It was hard to believe it had been that long. Gertrude stood rigid with her mouth hanging slightly open as she listened. 

"You saved that Nazi's life?!"

"Yes," said Hazel quietly.

"What were you thinking?!"

"He's a person, just like you and me."

"He's a Nazi!"

"He's still a human being."

Gertrude nervously felt the pockets of her dress for a cigarette. She didn't find anything and anxiously tapped her foot.

"Does anyone else know of this?"

"Only me and Helen."

"What is your family going to say?"

Hazel hadn't thought about this yet. She felt her heart flutter slightly when pondering what her parents would think.

"I need to tell them. It would be the right thing to do. However, I think I will wait for now," answered Hazel slowly, still processing the possibilities in her mind. 

"Dinner's probably ready by now. I'm going to go," said Gertrude.

Hazel looked at her nervous friend and understood she didn't want to be there anymore. She could see her confident young friend at the point of a nervous breakdown after seeing Mark. 

"I need to go to my parents' house. Helen, do you want to come with me?"

"I just ate. And I want to keep an eye on that Nazi. We don't need him running off telling someone where we are."

"I don't think he will be running anytime soon," responded Hazel as she put on her coat.

The wind slapped at Hazel's ears as she stepped outside with Gertrude. She held her coat closer to her body as she walked through the thick snow to the first cottage next to her. Hazel watched as Gertrude practically ran back to her tiny house at the far end. As she watched Gertrude slip through the front door, she felt a pang in her heart. She hoped she wouldn't tell her family. She didn't want to be the cause of anymore panic. Hazel sighed to herself before opening the door to her parents' cottage.