“A leader?” Lena replied sheepishly. Honestly, she had never really considered herself to be a leader. A rabble rouser, sure… maybe even some mascot after a fashion. But a leader? Oh, that was far too much responsibility.
“Don’t you worry.” Grandfather said with a knowing smile. “You’ll get there soon enough. Let’s use our time together wisely. By the time we figure out a solution to this whole messy business, you’ll be all the wiser—certainly wiser than most of your friends. And then you won’t just be a leader… but you will be the leader they need.”
She had thought on this for a moment, not entirely convinced. Perhaps Grandfather realized she felt so, because he shifted focus by turning up the volume on the radio where Public Image Ltd’s The Flowers of Romance was playing. “Now this album,” Grandfather had begun, “is very controversial because…”
Many days passed in this fashion. Grandfather had made her internment the next best thing to pleasant (if anything akin to pleasantness could be found in such a place). She knew he was speaking on behalf of the State—they all did—but no one garnered that much knowledge about music without actually enjoying it. Sure, most of the time there was a moral to the story: some sort of ‘State wisdom’ he seemed to want to impart. But Lena got the distinct impression that he was using her as an excuse to relax and listen to music he otherwise wouldn’t be able to.
He wasn’t even putting much effort into the ‘State’ side of things, truth be told. Sure, he believed in the GDR’s way of doing things, but that was because it was the right thing to do as far as he saw it. Lena honestly believed that if her country had a separate preference for the definition of ‘social unrest’, Grandfather would still stick to his guns in favor of community and purpose. She legitimately couldn’t fault him for that. He believed what he believed because he genuinely believed it—it just so happened that those beliefs aligned with the State that employed him.
His genuine belief and obvious sincerity had a profound effect on her. As the days wore on, she felt several changes taking place inside of herself. She began to feel more comfortable talking openly about her former life, and legitimately regretted some of her mistakes. Why, oh, why had she decided to write those lyrics?! At best, it was stupid and dangerous for her. At worst, it was legitimately stupid and dangerous for her family and friends. They didn’t deserve to be led astray by her and her stupid opinions. She was a child after all. No, not a worthless thing to be seen and not heard, as the Lieutenant had put it… just uninformed and lacking in grand perspective.
Lena was led back down the hallway past several cells and rooms for yet another interrogation, a few days later. All of them were reasonably pleasant, given her former circumstances. After a long walk between two female guards who seemed rather impatient with Lena’s shackled shuffle (staircases were the worst), she was led into the room she had grown quite familiar with—the white wall, the big open windows, the small desk and the radio. Something was different this time, however. Instead of just her Grandfather waiting there for her, a tall man also stood in the corner. He was over six feet tall, ruddily handsome with vaguely mixed-German features, and had an immaculately pressed uniform. His uniform was different than the rest of the Stasi. It seemed… well, larger somehow. It was almost as if it was designed twenty-years too early with cheaper cuts and off-putting browns and yellows. It was also covered with an abundance of large medals and honors to his importance for all the world to see. He did have a certain air of importance about him, surely, and he stood in the corner as if bored with the world—a sort of impatience with life itself, and nowhere to relieve that impatience.
“Young Lena,” Grandfather began softly, “why don’t you take a seat. We have much to discuss, and precious little time to do it.”
Awkwardly, Lena started towards her seat in front of the desk and sat down, shuffling her hands. The air in the room felt different. An uncomfortable tension and sense of urgency filled it, although Grandfather didn’t seem of a particular mind to change that just yet. Certainly not with the important-looking man standing in the corner.
“Lena, I’m going to be honest with you.” Grandfather began. “I’ve enjoyed our time together, but I’m getting pressure from The Top, you understand. Until this point, we’ve done things pretty off-the-cuff and informal. Not just to make you more comfortable, but because I’ve needed the break!” He added this last part with a laugh, and Lena nervously laughed as well. The important man standing in the corner simply rolled his eyes.
“It’s time we get down to business, Lena.” Grandfather continued, “I know who you are, and you know who you are. We both know you are a good person who truly means no harm. Unfortunately for the both of us, that’s simply not good enough. In the eyes of the State—who’s rules I am bound to enforce—you are still a criminal.”
Lena’s heart skipped a beat.
“I know, I know…” he consoled her, “it feels like we are past that point. Maybe that’s my fault. I certainly haven’t brought it up. Not directly, at any rate. I had hoped that… well, by now, you would have reached a point where we could simply put all of that behind us.”
Lena stared as he continued with an increasingly somber tone, “But the truth is this: in the eyes of the State you have committed the crimes of sedition, treason, and various other high-level misdeeds. I have tried to explain to the men at The Top that you were merely young and ill-informed, and that our time together has reformed you into a new person.”
“It has!” Lena interrupted as a bright red heat flushed across her face. “Truly it has!”
“I know you think that, Lena,” he replied, “But in my world, with men like the Colonel standing behind me, you haven’t. Not for crimes as serious as yours.”
The important man standing in the corner gave Lena a look—it was bored, yet knowing. Grandfather had many different and conflicting emotions written on his face, however—the most prominent of which almost appeared to be pleading. Without saying it, Lena could see the depth of concern he bore. He cared for her and genuinely wanted to help her escape whatever fate was coming her way. Didn’t he?
“I’m so sorry, Grandfather,” Lena apologized, meaning every word. “What can I do to help?”
“Grandfather?” the colonel noted, again rolling his eyes. Lena instantly felt embarrassed. When he spoke, however, Lena noticed that he had a slightly different accent than Grandfather. She couldn’t quite place it, though.
“It’s a permission given, Colonel,” Lena’s ‘Grandfather’ responded, “not a liberty taken.”
“Suit yourself,” the colonel responded, unamused, before turning to Lena. “Unfortunately, you have taken too long. We only have a certain amount of resources we can allocate per case, and we exceeded yours months ago. We had charged your ‘Grandfather’ here to see if we could find use for you. So far, he has performed less than adequately.