1st 5 Pages February Workshop - Wilson

Name: Kip Wilson
Genre: Young Adult LGBT Historical
Title: The Most Dazzling Sunrise in Berlin

The darkening steel-gray sky loomed, pressing me to hurry. With one hand, I held on to my cloche as I launched my feet over the sidewalk in great bounds—with the precise, powerful leaps of a dancer. Most everyone stepped aside to let me pass, but one bespectacled old woman eyed me with disapproval, clutching her handbag close with hawk-like talons. Perhaps she secretly wished she could be so spry, so brazen. I embraced my freedom with another running leap.

Only a few moments later, church bells chimed the hour. No. My footsteps faltered. I was too late. The cabaret was still blocks away; I’d never make it to my audition. I crumpled beside a jewelry shop window. I should never have indulged Lottchen one last fairy tale before bursting into the evening.

The first audition I’d landed, and I’d blown it before even stepping on the stage.

My fingertips traced circles on the window. A jewelry shop was the last place I’d ever enter, with no need for jewels and no Reichsmark to buy them. Still, movement inside caught my attention. I pressed my nose against the glass. A carefully-coiffed, well-fed woman pointed at something in the display case. The shop girl smiled proudly and held up an ornate necklace of glimmering gold.

In the muted light streaming through the window on the dullest, grayest of evenings, the necklace shone with the brightness of a thousand suns. Or perhaps it was the promise of everything it might fetch.

I’d resolved to give up picking pockets, but the temptation to snatch something so deliciously grand gnawed at me as with as much ferocity as the giant hole in my stomach. Perhaps one more theft would tide us over until I got another audition.

Evidently the necklace tugged at the customer too. She waved a hand, as only the rich can, confident that those beneath them will do their bidding. The shop girl nodded and smiled. She took great care placing the necklace in a box and adorning it with a silky bow before handing it to the customer, who slipped it into the pocket of her ermine coat as though it were nothing. A small candy wrapped in shiny pink paper; a worn key to a garden shed; an unimportant necklace that could feed my little sister for a week.

I pulled my hat over my eyes and leached into the background as the woman exited the shop, stepping out onto the sidewalk. She didn’t deserve the necklace. I, on the other hand, simply couldn’t ignore its pull. Wasting no time, I attached myself to the woman like a shadow and lifted the box with extreme care. She continued down the block oblivious, her confidence unshaken.

Only then did I see Kurt across the street, watching. He stood tall and spindly as a street lamp, his expression waiting to be lit up. For a moment, we both stood there, observing each other. We had history, Kurt and I. History that had ended badly.

A dark shadow crossed Kurt’s face. He ran.

#

I turned and ran in the other direction, as far as I could get from Kurt.

Surely he was already on his way to turn me in to his Ringverein’s boss. I had to get out of this neighborhood before they caught me. My insides quaked as I sped down the block. I knew as well as anyone that this part of Berlin was his gang’s territory, but I didn’t think anyone would have been watching my theft.

Especially not Kurt.

I bounded down the sidewalk toward home, extending my legs in the same long, graceful leaps as before, slowing only when I got to the corner of Kaiser Allee. After a quick glance at the oncoming traffic, I dangled one foot in the street. A taxi honked its tinny horn at me. If only I had the handful of Reichsmark needed for me to step inside and let it whisk me away.

But I didn’t, and before I could cross the street, rough hands grabbed me by the elbow. “No!” I cried. But none of the passersby who’d been on the sidewalk minutes ago were anywhere in sight. Instead, there was only this muscle-padded thug. Silent and unshakable, he dragged me to a dark, dank alley. “Let me go!” I struggled to free myself, but it only made him grip my arm tighter.

Deep in the alley, it stank of week-old garbage. Something scurried over one of my shoes, and I quivered, snatching my foot away. But whatever creatures lived in the alley seemed to be the least of my worries. The man who’d grabbed me released my arm and ripped my handbag from my grasp as two more shadows appeared at the end of the alley. One was solid and stout, the other tall and thin. Kurt. Together they blocked out the light from the street’s lamps beyond. Without a word, they made their way toward us.

With my escape impossible, the man in front of me rifled through my handbag. Once he found the box, he handed it to the solid giant of a man who stepped forward from the shadows. Even with the brim of his black hat low over his eyes, I’d have recognized him anywhere: Emil Feuerstein, the boss of Kurt’s Ringverein. I glanced beside him at Kurt. Kurt avoided my gaze, shifting in his too-short knickerbockers. His forehead wrinkled in a guilty expression. At least he felt guilty about turning me in.

“I’ll take that.” Emil pocketed the box and moved closer. His muscle-bound thug pressed closer to my side as if reminding me he was there. As if I could forget. I struggled to swallow my nerves down.

“Magdalena Braun.” Emil poked my chin upward with his thick, strong finger. “I don’t know what you were thinking, robbing in my neighborhood. The spoils around here belong to me, which can only mean one thing. You belong to me.” His finger jabbed into my chin from below again, knocking the back of my head against the wall, slick with alley grime.

“Hey,” I said, trying to ignore his claim. “Watch out. You’re hurting me.” My head smarted.

“I’ll hurt you a lot more than that if I have to.” His grip closed around my throat. Fear ballooned in my belly.

Kurt bounced up and down on his heels and then took a step forward. “Emil.” It was all he said, and when Emil turned his head around, Kurt held up his hands and sank back into the shadows. Some help he was.

“I’m sure you know that anyone who owes me a debt has to work for me.” He looked over his shoulder at Kurt, who averted his gaze once more. “Luckily for you, one of the dancers at my club up and left me this week, and I can use a pretty girl like you to replace her.”

His club. I’d forgotten that Emil counted a cabaret among his many enterprises. But as badly as I wanted to get onstage, I’d also heard the rumors about Café Domino. It wasn’t exactly the kind of cabaret I’d hoped for.

“I’m going to give you a choice.” He released my neck, and I squirmed in my heels. I didn’t know much about Emil, but I knew he couldn’t stand weaknesses. I couldn’t show him any.