“Oh, Grete, she’s never going to come,” Berni said.
This filled Grete with relief. She watched Berni look wistfully up at the brilliant blue-purple silk and metal spokes. She’d loathed hearing Berni swear, but more than that, she’d hated the way Berni’s face had lit up when she made that woman laugh. They stood still, twirling the umbrella above them for a moment, before Grete asked her to point the way to St. Matthias.
“Well. Bernadette Metzger! You’re wondering why I called you here.”
“Yes, Reverend Mother.” Berni sat on her hands, perched on the chair in front of Sister Maria’s desk. Her feet jiggled and twitched beneath her as she tried to keep the upper half of her body calm and respectful. She associated this office, with its dark walls and massive desk, with punishment; her knees smarted at the memory of kneeling on rice.
Sister Maria lifted a hand, wide and bony as a duck’s foot. The gesture seemed a kind of blessing, and Berni held her breath. “You will be proud to learn that we, against our better judgment, perhaps, have decided to send you to the Ursuline Academy for further study.”
Berni focused on the painting of the Virgin above the mantle so that she would not shriek. The Blessed Mother looked peaceful as a pond in her comforting blue cloak, her hands spread open and shaped like doves. “Thank you, Sister Maria. I won’t let you down.” Somehow Berni kept her voice even. Inside her mind, flowers burst into bloom. Birds took flight.
Sister Maria hadn’t yet smiled. Her upper lip pointed down in the center like a turtle’s beak. “Do you know why we at St. Luisa’s are in the business of teaching girls Latin and history, Bernadette? Girls elsewhere learn only dressmaking, home economics. The liberal education, most people say, is for boys.”
Berni shook her head. Her knuckles pressed the backs of her thighs. She still could not believe she’d been chosen. She longed to leap from her chair so that she could tell Grete and dance in the yard.
“The Order decided long ago that you girls should have a chance to learn men’s subjects. Most of you will never use them. Yet we expect those of you who study with the Ursulines to continue to prosper. How do you think you will use your education?”
This was easy to answer. “I will start a school for the deaf,” Berni declared.
Sister Maria leaned over the desk, bringing her broad face into the light. “I see.” Her expression was benevolent for once, though there was something behind it Berni could not read. “I will not mince words: I did not choose you for your good behavior. The opposite, in fact. But I could not argue with your academic performance. You seem to do well in examinations, and you are aware the girls who attend the Ursuline Academy sit for the Abitur, the university entrance exam, the same one boys take.”
University. Berni nodded vigorously.
“Each young lady who fails the exam,” Sister Maria continued, “proves to the men of Germany that women have no place taking it. Do you understand?”
“I understand.” Berni squirmed. The reverend mother had already told her she needed to take school seriously.
“Good. I have faith in your ability to control your baser instincts.”
“I will.” Another question lingered on the tip of her tongue, something she knew she should leave for another time, but she could not help asking. “And Grete? Surely if I go, you’ll send her in two years? She’s a better student than I am.”
Sister Maria retreated, pulling her hands into her cowl. “Poor Grete. After she failed the last exam in Latin, I asked her what her favorite subject was. Her response? First aid. It would be a shame to continue putting pressure on her academically, don’t you think, Berni?”
Berni tried to keep her voice calm. “Who’s pressuring her?”
Sister Maria shrugged. “You don’t need a diploma to specialize in Kinder, Küche, Kirche, and we both know that’s where she’s headed. She’s a delicate one.”
Berni felt her face grow hot. “She enjoyed first aid because she’s interested in medicine, not in just being a wife.”
“Don’t say ‘just’ a wife, Bernadette. There is nothing wrong with this path. Grete has homely sensibilities; anyone can see that. And if she doesn’t find a husband, she can stay here.”
Berni’s fingers and the tips of her ears were still tingling with the first good news, yet a weight grew in the bottom of her stomach. “Stay here?”
“Yes, we’d be happy to have her join the lay staff. You, with all your energy, may think this the worst place in the world, but I assure you, it is not.” Sister Maria pointed upward. “God has a plan for each of us, large and small. Who would pollinate flowers if not the humble bee?”
But we are not humble bees. We are Metzgers. “Grete’s more than capable. She simply can’t hear well, but it’s only bad in one ear.” It was a relief to say this aloud. Berni waited for a reaction from Sister Maria, but the woman did not blink.
“That’s why her voice sounds funny,” Berni continued, her voice rising, “and why she doesn’t do well in class. If you look closely you’ll find she reads and writes better than I do.”
The lamp flickered. “I’m aware of this,” Sister Maria said shortly. “It’s why I’d encourage her to seek another path.”
Now it seemed as though the Virgin in her gilt frame was looking past Berni, not at her. She put her hands over her face and then her ears, trying to banish the little voice inside that told her this was true: Grete would shrink and cower at the academy. Berni’s breathing grew faster and faster. The reverend mother knew. Sister Lioba must have told her. They knew all about Grete’s ears and had never done anything about it.
“Berni. Look at me. You cannot let your ambition set her up for failure.”
“You’re punishing her!” Berni said at last. She stuck her hands back under her knees to keep them from flying about. “How can you punish Grete because she can’t hear well?”
“Punish!” The reverend mother shoved her chair back. Her eyes, and then Berni’s, flitted to the corner where she kept a switch. “We at St. Luisa’s have been nothing but charitable to you. We’ve offered both of you shelter, food, an education. Orphans live on the streets and work as prostitutes. Now I’ve just told you that your sister is welcome to stay here indefinitely, as long as she needs a place, and you accuse me of trying to punish?”
Berni shook her head. All her life, she had believed there was indeed a place for Grete and herself, a home, hazy at its edges, with a fireplace's warmth at its center. It would be theirs, theirs alone, and once they found it all would be gemütlich forever.
On shaking legs, she stood. “If you hold Grete back, simply because of her ailment, I—I will never go to Mass again.”
Sister Maria’s mouth opened. For a moment, nothing but air wheezed out. “You’d commit yourself to the devil, thinking it would save your sister?” She came around the desk. “Do not poison your sister’s spirit, girl.”
“Poisoning her?” Berni’s throat felt dry all of a sudden. “Not me! Not me!”
“Come here, child.” Sister Maria locked Berni’s elbow in an iron grip and tried to force her to expose her backside. She was strong, but so was Berni. Berni tucked her thighs, squirming away from the slap. In the process, she twisted Sister Maria’s arm. She heard bones creak.
“Hold still—you devil child!”
The room darkened, and Berni wondered