I Pray That You Forget Me - Chapter 78
‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.
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There’s nothing he can’t do. I knew there was no pencil or paper in the room, which is why I agreed to write. That momentarily reduced the Major’s suspicions while I continued to distrust him.
“But can I really become the prime minister’s writer just by knowing how to write an address?”
The Major twisted his lips into a smirk after hearing my pointed question. He seemed amused that I was catching onto the fact that he had an ulterior motive. Though I still couldn’t figure out why he was acting this way towards me.
“Curious why I’m doing this?”
He asked, as if he had read my thoughts.
“Curious.”
“…..”
“What are you curious about?”
“Rize Einemann.”
There was no playfulness in the way he called my name. He stared at me intently until the cigarette between his fingers dropped its ash, then voiced his suspicions.
“I wonder if you’re in league with your husband, or if you’re being deceived by him.”
In league? Johann deceiving me?
“I don’t understand what you mean.”
He didn’t explain further, just stared at me with piercing eyes.
I was frightened of the Major today. I felt like running away, as I had the first time I met him, but I resisted. Doing so would only give him another reason to torment me, accusing me of being a spy for Falkland.
* * *
Fortunately, I managed to leave without further incident.
I went to Mrs. Bauer’s farm to help out with work. After having lunch there, I returned home to immerse myself in housework.
At three o’clock, the church bell rang, starting my heart racing.
‘It’s time for my love to return.’
But even by three-thirty, he hadn’t come.
‘Why hasn’t he come yet?’
There had been no word of him being late or stopping somewhere. I sat by the window, watching the clock tower and the end of the street, letting my imagination run wild like a pumpkin vine in summer.
‘Could it be…’
With grim thoughts, I tore at a hangnail. As I watched the path where school children no longer passed, I suddenly stood up.
‘I should go and look for him.’
As the path to the school was straightforward and our paths wouldn’t diverge.
“Oh, I almost forgot.”
Before donning my coat, I put on the forget-me-not necklace I had kept in my wallet. Johann had asked me to always wear it in front of him.
I stepped outside, locked the door, and descended the stairs.
Just as I reached the ground floor, I heard the sound of a door cautiously opening and closing below. It wasn’t Johann; it was the sound of the basement door.
Mrs. Becker’s son was still hiding in the basement. Occasionally, when the building was empty and the street quiet, he seemed to venture up to the second floor, but he never stayed long.
This was the busiest street in our little mountain town—meaning that in the evenings and on weekends, it was frequented by soldiers.
Hearing my presence, the steps that had been ascending from the basement halted. As I reached the ground floor, I deliberately raised my voice in greeting.
“Good day, Mrs.”
Only then did the owner of the steps realize that the someone was me, and began to ascend again. It didn’t seem like she would appreciate waiting and exchanging greetings, so I didn’t turn around and simply proceeded out the door.
I did not encounter Johann on my way to the school. The schoolyard was empty except for a luxury car parked at the entrance with an officer in the driver’s seat.
‘Is he here to pick up Thomas? But why is he still here?’
As I passed the car, I caught the officer’s eye. It was the first time I’d seen him since the beginning of the year in the school hallway. He probably didn’t remember me. I exchanged a brief, awkward nod and quickly averted my gaze, heading into the school building.
The school was as silent as an abandoned building. Only a cold draft blew through the hallways, and the usually open door to the principal’s office was firmly shut.
Knock, knock.
I tapped on the classroom door at the end of the hallway, but I couldn’t hear Johann’s voice inviting me in. I cracked open the door to peer inside and sighed deeply. The classroom was completely empty.
Fortunately, Johann’s coat was still hanging on the wall, and his square leather bag was on the teacher’s desk by the window.
‘It’s just that he’s getting off work late. But where could he have gone?’
I picked up the coat hanging on the wall, hugged it to smell Johann’s scent, and scanned outside through the window. However, Johan was nowhere to be seen.
‘I’ll wait here; he’ll be surprised when he arrives.’
I sat down in Johann’s chair. Sitting idly was boring, so naturally, I started to look around his desk.
“Hmm…”
The pile of homework was still as daunting as ever. As I looked around for anything new, a glass jar by the window, shaded by the curtains to block out the sunlight, caught my eye. Surely, it contained something edible.
‘It must have been received today.’
Our survival last winter was greatly aided by the generosity of parents toward Mr. Renner. Despite their limited means, when parents had extra, they sent it along for their children.
Three fresh eggs from home-raised chickens, a jar of apple jam made last fall, and two slices of dried fruit cake baked with honey harvested at home. Every couple of days, Johann brought gifts from parents home.
‘I wonder what he was planning to bring home today?’
