Bismarckburg (Leningrad), Ingermanland Commissionerate District
It's dawn, and the early morning light casts a golden glow over the city. There is a chill in the air, and a thin layer of fog blankets the ground. The street is quiet, the only sounds the soft footsteps of passersby and the occasional whinny of a horse. A young man wearing a cheap fur coat walks down the sidewalk. The store signs are in German and Russian.
Friedrich Eckhart opened a can of food, the lid hissing as the pressurized contents were released. He stared down at the unappetizing mass, his hunger giving way to nausea. The kasha smelled foul and looked even worse.
Eckhart reluctantly brought a spoonful of the gruel to his mouth, trying to ignore the vile flavor. He had eaten far worse before and would likely eat far worse in the future. kasha is buckwheat, which is an important source of energy-providing carbohydrates, essential amino acids, and important micronutrients such as vitamin B2 and magnesium.
As Eckhart forced down another spoonful, his stomach lurched. He quickly turned away, trying to keep the meal from coming back up. After a few deep breaths, he returned to his kasha. Eating three meals a day is a privilege afforded to very few people during the war.
After he has filled his stomach, Friedrich's benefactor used the key to return to the building. The lock of this apartment building has been fixed, but the walls of this three-story apartment are covered with graffiti, and the hall is dimly lit. Friedrich saw a old woman with beautiful eyebrows at the end of the corridor. She looked familiar, with an angular, delicate face framed by dark brown hair. "Anni, Anni Edelweiss."
She looked up at him. "Eckhart?" She frowned at him and moved a piece of stray hair out of his eye. This sixty-year-old lady is an amateur painter and a wealthy widow.
"Miss Edelweiss, are you still in poor health?"
"It's better than the previous period, but it's hard to sleep." Edelweiss narrowed her eyes, "How come I haven't seen you these few days?"
"It's too tiring. Those old geezers are almost past the average life span, and they don't know when they'll get out of bed," Eckhart snorted. "If I'm not afraid of having nowhere to live, I won't go to bed so early every night."
Anni Edelweiss smiled, but didn't laugh out loud, and then began to complain: "Those that have moved in have been evicted several times by the Russian security forces. They searched everything and confiscated anything valuable. I'm afraid I could rent the whole apartment to you."
"Really?" Eckhart exclaimed, his face twisting into a grimace. "I knew this would happen. Why does the current commissioner have to move the Russians in so much, and the guards have to carry Kalashnikovs?"
"Don't forget, you are also a Russian." She stopped smiling and covered her nose with her right hand. "Even if you use a German name."
"But at least I'm an ethnic minority that speaks German."
"Or you could have become an intellectual." Edelweiss chuckled as she pulled her grey shawl over her shoulders. "Young man, you can go to the basement. I'll be right over."
Eckhart raised his eyebrows and trotted straight toward the cellar. As Edelweiss pushed open the creaky metal door of the second-floor room, she heard a sound that sounded like two pieces of steel colliding. Looking around and not seeing anyone else, Anni went downstairs and stepped onto the uneven brick surface of the basement. The noise grew louder, and she rounded the corner to a sight she was unprepared for.
In a dimly-lit corner of the basement, under a bare lightbulb, Eckhart stood bare-chested and sweating. Edelweiss was no stranger to physical intimacy with the opposite sex, but she couldn't help but stare in appreciation.
Edelweiss made a sound and Eckhart glanced at her over his shoulder. She cleared her throat as she pulled her eyes up from his toned torso and handsome face. "Nice view." Next to the easel there is a drawing board and an empty chair, on which a fur jacket hangs.
Eckhart flashed her a smile. "Thanks." He nodded in the direction of the paper and easels. "Is that for me to draw on?"
"Oh, right!" Edelweiss stammered, her face turning slightly red. "I meant the art supplies, not the, ah...view." She cursed herself mentally as Eckhart pulled on a faded blue t-shirt, leaving his chest only somewhat covered.
Eckhart snickered. "Let me see, what kind of model do you need me to be this time?"
"Well, first," She quickly arranged the easels and drawing tools, and after sitting on the stool, she arranged her right hand under her chin, then picked up her drawing tools. "Standing in front, you know I have poor eyesight. No one is perfect in everything. And this is another point; the women who often write poetry have their own charm," Anni sighed, shaking her head. She brushed and then said: "Do you know the feeling of the bottom of your stomach dropping out, when a guy smiles at you just the right way?"
"Ah, is that a rhetorical question?" Eckhart raised an eyebrow. "Why don't you answer it?"
"You're not that interesting." Anni returned her gaze to the blank sheet of paper. "So, put your left hand in your pocket, then let your head droop a bit. Yeah, like that."
"Whatever the mistress commands."
"It's much too cold this year." Edelweiss started the painting. "Even my eyes are almost blind from the snow." She used charcoal to outline his figure and then applied a thin layer of paint, using only a few lines to outline his face, making the rest of the figure in a semi-translucent layer of gray paint.
"Ma'am, what kind of painting have you been painting? Something like Hitler?"
"It's a landscape painting." Edelweiss didn't even bother to raise her head. "I want to see how a beautiful mountain range and lake landscape will be drawn."
"Can you draw me with a tank in the picture?"
"Do you want to draw the war? I can't do it." Anni looked up at him. "Look this way a little, but keep your head straight."
"Okay." Friedrich adjusted his movements. "Can I see it?"
"You're so impatient, and no one has finished a painting after such a short period of time. Come, we're done."
The two of them put down their brushes and exchanged places. The painting has not yet been painted in detail, but the mountain range can already be vaguely seen. Edelweiss helped Friedrich adjust the lighting and positioning, then she returned to her easel, and began to add some details to the mountain range, saying: "Young man, do you think the Russians will really go to war against the Germans?"
"That's a good question." Friedrich looked at her and replied, "It's hard to say."
"I'm sure they won't." Edelweiss snorted. "I was at the German-Polish War, and I'm sure the Russians won't."
"Then, Miss Anni, do you believe in Hitler?"
Edelweiss' movements paused, and after a short silence, she answered. "No." She laughed softly and bitterly, "He's a conman. Young man, the war was like a dream. We went out of Poland and entered France in one breath." Edelweiss picked up the paintbrush and began painting.
"Can you teach me how to paint?"
"Why? What's so great about painting? There's no food for you to eat and no money." Edelweiss sighed, "What can you get by painting?"
"Freedom," Friedrich replied, his tone casual. "I can paint you a portrait."
"Young man, you're young, I'm old, what do you want to paint me for?" Edelweiss said. "What do you think of painting?"
"It's very interesting," Friedrich replied, smiling. "But what are you painting? Why do you need a human model to paint mountains?"
"There's nothing to paint. It's too cold to go out now," Anni Edelweiss complained. "What's wrong with painting what's in front of me? You know, there's not much left in the world these days." She set down the brush, and then wiped the dust off the canvas, her voice bitter. "You've grown up, and I'm too old, the old lady's chest is now like a mountain."
Eckhart stared at Edelweiss, who was wearing a white fur coat with black dots on her shoulders. He sighed. "You are still very good. I want to ask, you are 60 years old, have you ever been in love with someone?"
Anni Edelweiss laughed and nodded: "Yes. You can't imagine how beautiful and elegant I was when I was young."
"When did you start painting?" Friedrich exhaled and walked over to the easel. "How did you learn?"
"I was taught by the Italian painter of the same room," Anni Edelweiss sighed. "It was during the First World War, when my boyfriend went out to the battlefield to fight and died there. I have been painting for almost forty years as a hobby." The left half of the painting is blank, the right half has begun to show the shape of a man.
"The left half is reserved for me? What are you drawing on?" Eckhart walked in front of the canvas and examined it carefully. "This is really my figure." He couldn't help but admire the picture, which showed an ordinary man standing in front of a snow-capped mountain, with an empty but endless expanse around him.
"Friedrich, do you think art should be free?" Edelweiss' tone was casual, as if the answer didn't matter to her.
"Yes!" Friedrich replied immediately. "If we have to sell art for food, we have lost something." He shook his head in disagreement.
"Young man, you still have ideals and hope, but I have lost all hope for life and art." Anni Edelweiss shook her head. "But you can't imagine me naked either."
"But you still paint naked men," Friedrich laughed, his eyes sparkling with mirth. "Don't you think your figure is a little...odd?"
Anni Edelweiss' face flushed, and her voice turned hoarse as she continued to paint, her words coming out in a jumbled mess. "Well... It's a man, so there's no need to draw it carefully."
"But you still need to draw me, don't you?"
"Young man, don't flatter yourself," Edelweiss snorted. "And if you don't draw it, how do you know if you can imagine it or not?"
"But I remember that humans cannot imagine things that have never been."
Edelweiss turned and walked to the canvas, carefully examining it from every angle. Finally, she smiled in satisfaction and set down her brush, turning to face Friedrich. "That's it, we're done for the day."
Friedrich picked up his paintbrush. "Can I paint you?"
Anni Edelweiss raised an eyebrow and hesitated. After a while, she slowly nodded her head, and sat in the chair opposite him. "How do you want to paint me? Just as I am, or should I put on some makeup and a different set of clothes?"
"I want to try Sleeping Venus."
Edelweiss smiled, and said: "It's up to you. I just took a shower and took off all my makeup." She took a sip of cold coffee. "But if I have to say anything, it's that I'm an ugly old lady now."
Friedrich began painting Anni Edelweiss, sketching her face first. He drew a strong outline and then filled in the details with the thinnest of paints. He took his time, and Anni began to grow tired. The night is deep and cold, and the coffee pot has long been emptied, the room filled with a cold draft.
Edelweiss couldn't help but complain, "You've been painting for a long time, haven't you? Are you drawing a portrait or a landscape?"
"I want to paint a beautiful portrait. Be quiet and let me focus." Eckhart said without raising his head. "Madam, how do you draw a naked woman?"
Anni Edelweiss laughed, covering her mouth, "Young man, you have a strange taste, and it seems that you are still a virgin?"
"right, what is the way to paint a woman?"
Anni Edelweiss exhaled, took off her coat, and walked in front of Friedrich Eckhart. The air is still, and the atmosphere is oppressive. After a while, Anni Edelweiss slowly undid her corset and dropped her long skirt, revealing her naked body. The painting of her body was very delicate. Friedrich took his time, lingering on certain areas and not wasting a single brushstroke.
"You should say it first. If anyone found out, we would be thrown into prison by the SS. The old judge in the people's court would say: You seduced this young man, and I would be shot." Anni Edelweiss smiled bitterly. "My luck has not been good since I was a child."
"Don't say that," Friedrich replied. "I've always thought that you would live to a ripe old age."
Edelweiss sat back on the stool. She took a deep breath, and a thin layer of sweat began to form on her forehead. The dim light flickered in the corner of the room. "Do you think art and literature should be free?"
"it should be free from censorship." He stared at her, his expression unreadable. "If you really want to paint a naked person, just ask. But I also want to ask you, why should I, as a Russian, be humbled by you? Why can my family and I only go to primary school?"
Edelweiss' eyes narrowed, her face flushing. She swallowed hard and lowered her voice. "You can paint me with my clothes on if you want."
"No," Eckhart replied firmly. Anni didn't reply. The painting of Friedrich was still not completed, and the snow outside the window began to fall again.
After the snow fell for two hours, it gradually turned into sleet.
When Friedrich completed his painting of the sleeping Venus, he stared at Edelweiss for a long time, who was curled up in her white fur coat on the couch. "I've painted you like that. Come and see."
Edelweiss turned the canvas over and looked at the painting. It was her body, but in a more ideal state, the flesh firm and the figure graceful. She covered her face, unable to speak, her expression bitter.
Friedrich turned away from Anni. He packed up his painting tools and put on his coat. As he was about to leave, Anni stopped him, asking softly: "Friedrich, Come here, you haven't learned perspective and human structure?"
"It's just a hobby," Friedrich laughed, but his smile didn't quite reach his eyes.
"You don't have to leave, there are two rooms. You can sleep here tonight." Edelweiss offered.
"Thank you," Friedrich replied, his voice laced with emotion. He followed Anni upstairs. She lit a few candles and brought two blankets in from the storage room. The fire in the stove is warm and the snow is deep outside the window.
Friedrich's thoughts drifted as he lay on the bed. The house is very warm, the snow outside is dense and heavy. He could hear the sound of the fire crackling, and the candles cast dancing shadows on the ceiling. "Madam, I am very grateful to you. Without you, I would have died of hunger."
"It's nothing, young man." Anni Edelweiss wrapped her blanket. "Just treat me as a friend. If I have a son, he should be as handsome and as honest as you are. There will always be a lot of young ladies looking for a man like you. But you're a Russian, you can't do this." She hesitated for a moment. "I want to give you money. You have to live a good life in the future."
"Thank you, Madam, I'll leave in the morning. I don't want to put you in danger."
"Why?" Edelweiss asked, frowning.
"My life is difficult. You are German, but I am an ethnic minority who can only speak German. The Germans hate the Russians."
"The Soviets hate you too, and you know what the Soviet government called the Russians who lived under German rule. You can come to Germany with me or stay here. Tell me, why do you paint me so young?"
Friedrich hesitated for a moment, "I can't sleep at night. When I draw you, I will paint you as a young woman."
Edelweiss paused. "Why do you always think of your mother at night?"
"How did you know?" Friedrich turned and asked in a hoarse voice.
"I am 60 years old this year," Edelweiss' voice was laced with regret, and there was a trace of sadness. "You can't imagine how beautiful I was when I was young. Now I'm an old lady with saggy boobs and a lot of wrinkles. I know, how did your mother die?"
"In the Second World War. The Germans killed her," Friedrich's tone was heavy with grief, his voice hoarse.
"Why do you hate the Germans so much?" Edelweiss asked, frowning. "Maybe your mother isn't..."
"Ma'am, you know that Germany killed my father and my two brothers, and almost killed me."
"You shouldn't be too angry. Maybe they will change someday." Edelweiss said. "It's not good for a man to hate too much, and the old man has died too."
"It's hard for us, the generation that grew up in war and is dying of hunger and poverty. It's hard for us to believe that anyone would change for the better. The war and hunger are like a dream." Friedrich turned away. "Maybe it's not important to hate or not. I don't want to have to keep my hate to my children."
"What kind of person do you hate the most in your heart?" Edelweiss' voice was calm, and the snow was getting heavier and heavier outside the window.
"I hate Hitler, he started the war."
"Then who else?" Edelweiss asked, frowning. "You're an intelligent person, so you know the origin of the war. If Hitler had been admitted to the Academy of Fine Arts in Vienna, World War II would have broken out."
"Then I hate all the Germans."
"Beethoven was also a German. There were no Germans or people from the German region who massacred the Jews during the Middle Ages. What do you think caused a group of Germans to go from 1914 to 1933?" Edelweiss' expression darkened. "Why do you blame them? Why not blame the Austrians?"
"I hate them all." Friedrich's tone became angry. "If not for them, my family wouldn't have died of hunger and cold."
"Oh, the Siege of Leningrad. Why are you angry with a city of 2 million people, but not a city of 50 million Germans? I'm an old lady now, I don't have the heart to argue with you. I just want to say that national socialism will not perish because it is anti-human and not anti-humanity. I believe in humanity."
"I have no right to say anything."
"Friedrich, I have a younger brother," Edelweiss paused, her expression clouding. "His name is also Friedrich. He died on the Western Front in World War I. Tell me, why do the Serbs assassinate the Austrian Crown Prince but hold us responsible for starting the war?"
"Ma'am, you are really an old man with deep ideas." Eckhart exhaled heavily and laughed bitterly. "You're an old German woman, why are you trying to argue with me?"
"You have the same name as my dead brother, you know that he was killed in the war, but the person who shot him wasn't you."
Friedrich Eckhart exhaled a white cloud, his tone solemn and low, "I know what you mean, you're saying that people's ill will toward others leads to all of this." He stood up, pacing in front of the stove, "I also know that people like you have good intentions, but the people of Russian have no power now, and even the weak people have to beg." He clenched his hands into fists, his voice shaking with anger.
"It's true. We can't even see our relatives now," Anni Edelweiss said slowly, her voice heavy. "You must come to Germany with me instead of staying here, where there is no hope or future."
Friedrich laughed, the sound laced with bitterness and sorrow. "Ma'am, we have the hope of survival in the Soviet Union."
Anni Edelweiss pursed her lips and sighed, her shoulders drooping. The silence was interrupted only by the howling of the wind outside the window and the sound of the crackling fire. Finally, she said in a hoarse voice: "Do you have a gun?"
"Yes, Ma'am." Eckhart's tone was serious.
"I want to kill myself."
"Madam." Frederick stood up quickly. "Time for me to go. I'll move in tomorrow. I love you. You are my teacher and mother."
Edelweiss leaned over and kissed his forehead, her lips cold as ice, and she looked into his eyes and said: "Friedrich, you are the last hope of humanity, please don't waste it, I know, you can paint, you must have the talent."
Edelweiss wiped her face and took the candle in her hand. "Goodbye, young man." She left, leaving Friedrich with the smell of perfume, candles, and firewood, and an overwhelming sadness.