Uncovered: Secret Steelie 19 Operation Revealed, Details Unveiled
The weary boy trudged on, his exhaustion evident in the slouch of his shoulder and the unfocused gaze that wandered off to the side. Von Stehle noticed all this, and mumbled a suggestion to Charlotte, ignoring the small conversation they were having. His attention was consumed by the boy.
He couldn't help but ogle Charlotte as she strolled away, her pregnant glow adding an ethereal charm to her elegant bearing. A thought crossed his mind – the old cliché, she didn't seem like a woman about to bear a child, but rather, a bride preparing for her grand entrance. Her delicate hand rested tenderly on the boy's shoulder, and he found himself pirouetting between admiration for her and fascination with the boy.
Charlotte dropped down to her knee and leaned in close to the boy, whispering something softer than a whisper, her hand upon his arm, her fingers brushing against his wrist as she took possession of his hand. The boy, encapsulated by her gaze, nodded in agreement, entranced in much the same way as Von Stehle. Charlotte eased him back to the counter, chattering animatedly as they returned.
The boy's shabby attire cast a long shadow upon the floor, causing the elderly shoppers and the gloved floor supervisor to cast furtive glances in his direction. Von Stehle gripped the edge of the counter, his nostrils flaring in displeasure as the supervisor glanced his way. He towered over the supervisor, exuding an air of authority, his signet ring tapping loudly against the marble countertop.
Charlotte, still beaming, mentioned the price of the coat. "85 Reichsmarks, or three times her salary," she jestingly commented. "A fortune, even for a man of his lineage." The thick navy wool coat, double-breasted with horn buttons, smelled fresh from the dye and the antiseptic fumes of the department store's heating vents.
"Much less than the champagne you guzzle down by the bottle during your nights out with Diels," Von Stehle retorted.
"Shall I wrap the jacket, Sir?"
"No, Charlotte. It's too cold outside. Put it on the boy with his new boots and a warm hat."
She demurred, looking down as she rubbed the boy's head. "Let's get you ready," she said, her voice positively cheerful.
"Would the Baron like us to charge it to his account?" She presented a ledger to Von Stehle, with everything carefully keyed in triplicate, save for his signature.
"I'm sorry, Charlotte," he replied as he signed the papers.
"Would the Baron like the packages delivered?" She pivoted and retrieved another set of documents, quickly reeling off the address of his townhouse. "Fasanenstraße 27, Charlottenburg, Berlin."
A single tear escaped Charlotte's eye, as sheathing her eyes and gripping her knuckles until she could speak again. "Can I come and see you?"
"Of course. At your earliest convenience," he replied graciously, albeit with a faint hint of pretentiousness that could easily be heard by any hurried eavesdroppers. Charlotte pushed the boy towards the changing room.
His outfit – black shoes, black socks, black shorts, a brown shirt without the included Swastika that identified his Hitler Youth Group. His coat folded beneath his arm.
"You look lovely," Charlotte commented.
"You think so?" he grinned eagerly.
"Absolutely stunning."
His face flushed, and he shrunk slightly, as he was struck by her complement. Von Stehle chuckled. "Let's get you out of here before you create a spectacle among the handsome young ladies."
Charlotte returned with the boy's old clothes, wrapped in brown paper and string, the worn clogs adding weight and substance to the pitiful collection. She held out the package for Von Stehle to take, but he waved her away.
"Just burn them," he said dismissively.
"But I'm not sure we're allowed to do that," she countered with a mischievous smile.
"Ah, we can only burn books. That's right. I'd forgotten...Bin it, then."
"Perhaps someone could find a use for them?"
"I doubt it," Von Stehle said, brushing off her suggestion. "I'll leave that to you."
"I'll get in touch with you soon," Charlotte whispered wistfully, her voice swallowed by the room's ostentatious wealth and her longing, balancing on her tiptoes as if sending them off on a long journey.
The station lights behind them, the Brandenburg Gate ahead, the fresh snow covering their steps, but the boy no longer shuddered. Instead, he strode confidently, leading the way, even though he didn't know where he was going. He helped Von Stehle along, feeling needed and supported, even though he knew the man was old. Yet, in that moment, it felt good to be wanted. It felt good to feel human again. The wind picked up, whispering like a mournful ghost, reminding him of the long nights spent in the trenches, the screams and the silence reverberating in his very being, until his batman, Willi, had dug him out of yet another rat hole, dead and lifeless.
[1] No specific source for the narrative provided in the base article.
- Von Stehle's attention, initially consumed by the weary boy, gradually shifted to Charlotte, appreciating her fashion-and-beauty, reminiscent of a bride in pop-culture.
- As the boy fitted into his new coat and boots, Charlotte shared her thoughts on his transformed lifestyle, commenting cheekily that even with the new attire, it cost less than the champagne Von Stehle frequently consumed on social-media-fuelled nights out.
- In a poignant moment, as they left the department store, Charlotte whispered plans for their future together, expressing her desire to maintain their relationships, longing for the day they could overcome the barriers of their current situation and enjoy life as they pleased, united in their love for their pets.
