Chapter Text
Albrecht had always been a prolific writer of long letters. Heinrich never read them. After a short while Frau Stein read only the open and close of each, keeping her responses short and infrequent so her son may learn to curb his communication. It made no difference. One name appeared several times in the first and last paragraphs of Albrecht's most recent letter, prompting her to read the entire thing. This same name featured at least twice on each page: Friedrich Wiemer, Friedrich said, Friedrich did, Friedrich agrees, Friedrich does not share my opinion, Friedrich could achieve, unlike Friedrich, Friedrich, Friedrich.
Heinrich's frequent transfers often made socialising difficult for Albrecht. Weimer was Allenstein Napola's newest star and their friendship provided an opportunity for Albrecht to attract paternal approval rather than scorn. He was entitled to boast. Co-producing the student newsletter obviously pleased Albrecht but meant nothing to Gauleiter Stein, particularly when compared to being Friedrich Weimer's comrade.
"Perhaps he can encourage Albrecht to exercise beyond sharpening pencils!" Her husband's attempt to joke only increased the insult. Albrecht could not help being shaped after his mother's family rather than the stockier Steins. No amount of physical labour and red meat would alter that fact. At least his head wasn't filled with fat!
His next letter gave cause for concern. Frau Stein kept this to herself although her worry grew with each correspondence. Her fears were confirmed when Albrecht brought the infamous Friedrich Weimer to Heinrich's kabutz. Weimer was Albrecht's physical opposite, an incredibly attractive, tall and athletic Aryan Adonis, and Albrecht was clearly smitten with his companion. Worse yet, the infatuation appeared to be mutual. How were the men ignorant of this glaring fault in Friedrich's perfection? She wondered that they missed the subtle, reflexive ways the pair deferred to each other. They frequently made unintentional yet entirely intimate gestures and remarks. Behaviours typical of oblivious young lovers caught in the precursory waves of titanic romance coloured every exchange. These officers saw nothing beyond the alpha and omega of German youth. Heinrich must share his wife's suspicions regarding their son. Why else take such pains to destroy Albrecht in the eyes of one so admired? If only her husband shared her doubts about Friedrich.
Heinrich confided in his wife as she helped him undress for bed. He had a valet of course but this was often the only time they had alone. He thanked her for an entertaining and productive evening before mentioning the young men. “He'll no doubt hope to become Friedrich rather than bed him after this evening's lesson. Friedrich now sees what manner of weakling he has befriended and will either ensure Albrecht trains properly or shall withdraw from the situation before this canker spreads."
Frau smiled with heartfelt relief. "They will both be better for it." She kissed her husband’s cheek and prepared herself for bed.
Albrecht chose a breakfast seat far enough from Friedrich to indicate a breach without drawing comparison to a lover's quarrel. He did not speak. Friedrich's two attempts at conversation were ignored. Eventually Friedrich's mannerisms caused Frau Stein concern. He continually looked to Albrecht for clues on how to proceed. This could be explained by the fact that he’d been raised as a civilian until the school year began if he didn’t then follow Albrecht’s example with great reluctance. His shoulders shifted to indicate submission but his eyes alternated between determination and confusion, as though he believed Albrecht was his without truly understanding what their connection had been. Albrecht clearly understood the danger and despised this newest weakness. The atmosphere grew heavy as the meal continued. The scene would be heartbreaking had it been played out between boy and girl. As things stood Frau Stein could only feel proud of her son’s detachment. Albrecht maintained his unfriendly distance from Friedrich as they moved through the house and ensured they did not walk to the car together. His mother kissed him goodbye without voicing her pride. His private triumph would be undermined by making it public, even between only the two of them.
"The journey back provided an eerie contrast to the friendly humour of the same passengers on Sunday," Johan said solemnly. "I swear young master Stein dropped weight overnight. Did he take ill?"
Frau Stein put an end to Johan's conjecture with a false smile of assurance. "The ailment has reached its final stages and full recovery is imminent." She believed this to be true, provided Friedrich Weimer left Albrecht alone.
The next letter fit on a single page and contained no mention of the lauded boxer. Albrecht's style had lost its flourish in favour of abrupt formality. These changes should have made Frau Stein incredibly pleased but she sensed something sinister swam beneath the surface. His previous letters could almost be classed as literature and there had been a sense of joy behind her son's uninhibited confidence. Now his thoughts were guarded. Albrecht had either carved out his heart after the kabutz or he now had something to hide. Neither possibility appealed. Polite enquiries after Friedrich's health went unaddressed in Albrecht's meticulous reply. His correspondence became nothing more than impersonal statements of fact, as though he couldn't be bothered writing at all. Every mother anticipated losing her son to love as he matured, but to a wife, not...this! The prospect was abominable.
"See the result of your display," she told Heinrich one morning as she pressed three examples of Albrecht's writing on the dressing table. The earliest was dated before Heinrich's birthday, the second during the week after and the most recent received yesterday. "You strengthened their infatuation by insulting Albrecht and praising the object of temptation."
Heinrich skimmed the content. "If anything this proves the danger has passed."
"Illiterate fool. The only lesson our son has learned is to lie to his mother!"
An authoritative voice from downstairs called for Gauleiter Stein, sparing her from Heinrich's wrath. He ensured she had no opportunity to raise the topic again.
"Come. We've been summoned to the school." Heinrich said with weighted precision.
"What embarrassment has Albrecht supposed to have caused you now?" Frau Stein asked bitterly.
"They will not say." Heinrich could not meet her eye.
Her reprimand took the form of a question as she took her coat. "Would it involve Friedrich Weimer by chance?" She said nothing else until after they'd been informed of her son's death.
"He was simply too weak," Heinrich told the window as she wept. He would never share her grief. No doubt all Heinrich felt was relief since Albrecht had been a perpetual source of disappointment. Why was that when Albrecht achieved the highest academic grades of his year in every school he attended?
"A school with girls would make him more effeminate, you said. Ha, Heinrich. Ha!" she exclaimed to her husband's back.
"Be still."
How dare he intrude upon her misery with such pathetic words? She could not suffer in silence yet did not raise her voice. Posture and tone provided cutting emphasis.
"I have read his final essay despite your efforts to hide it from me. I am not surprised if he died to escape the burden of having you for a father as much as his ill-directed affection for Friedrich. He was more ashamed of you, to be associated with you than you will ever be of him. What right have you to make my pride in his achievements feel equally shameful?”
“You thought as I did! Excessive grief distorts your opinion.”
Truly, under current circumstances she was willing to forgive her son every sin – almost every sin. Her grief was terrible, yes, but not excessive. “My son died shielding his heart from me. His heart Heinrich, I used to feel it beating within my womb as he grew. Once he yearned to tell me everything. Now the last words he offered me are empty nothing!” Albrecht had tried to confide in her at Heinrich’s birthday and she had dismissed him so casually – “You’ll tell me later.” But he never had. She would never know whether her son had been troubled or proud in that moment. No doubt any death note was addressed to his partner in abomination since his mother received none. “You cannot begin to know my desolation. School after horrid school because you could not accept Albrecht will never look or think like you! Always grabbing the scruff of Albrecht's neck to turn his head saying "Look at that boy, see this one, appreciate how perfect they are, physically ideal." He did as you said."
"Have you finished with this foolishness you feeble woman?"
"Oh no Heinrich, that is merely the root of a great forest of foolishness for now I question your obsession with these young men. Do you despise Albrecht because one held him in such high esteem while none spared a thought for you?"
"Unless you can speak sanely you shall remain silent!"
"Is all well Gauleiter Stein?" Anstaltsleiter Klein enquired through the door.
Heinrich bade him enter. "It has been suggested Friedrich Weimer may have contributed to Albrecht's behaviour. Disturbing changes in manner and attitude have arisen since they became acquainted."
His wife remained silent, marvelling at his ability to speak with detached authority as though the Albrecht he discussed was not their son, his son, hers. Klein placed blame entirely at the dead boy's feet. Drowned and slowly frozen to death, solid, somewhere within this school's boundaries. Frau stifled a new sniffle of grief as Klein assured them Albrecht's affections had never been returned beyond fraternal bonds of comradeship. Friedrich Weimer would remain perfect, unscathed while Albrecht became an example of absolute wretchedness. How was that fair?
“Weimer will fight for Allenstein on Saturday?” Heinrich asked as though this was of utmost importance to Fuhrer’s success.
Frau Stein hated her husband in that moment. She wanted to hate Albrecht too, as Heinrich did, but her loss was too great. Memories of a little boy and aspirations for his future were too fresh. Once the natural instinct to mourn had passed, perhaps then she could wash her hands of him properly.
“Your indulgence during his youth is the cause of this,” Heinrich said in low accusation. “Had you refrained from praising his paper dreams and grounded him in reality he…”
Frau Stein did not contradict her husband. For the next few days she spoke only to arrange the household and associated staff. Silence allowed her to function.
Heinrich attended the boxing match so vital to the war effort. He returned in a greater state of agitation than he’d displayed after hearing of their son’s death. Frau did not care to know why. Unfortunately he did not bother seeking her permission before confiding.
“We were lied to. Weimer’s influence on Albrecht…”
“I care nothing for that demon’s fate Heinrich, or yours. Mourn his fall alone.” She purposely left the room and any other he chose to enter. Albrecht had been absolved, in part. All but that one imperfection seemed minor now. This house full of stranger’s belongings only reminded her of the unique treasure she’d created then been taught to shun.
Early one morning, before dawn, Frau Stein brought her bags downstairs. Johan waited at the front. He offered no empty words of comfort, merely a respectful pressure against her fingers as he assisted her into the car. They left house, school and associated horrors behind without a single backward glance.
Albrecht’s essays and letters burned in the grate.