only guess. Probably some kind of medical or chemical experimentation, because toward the end of the war, he was sure he would be caught by the Allies and tried. Maybe even executed. Then an American came to see him. It was all very secret—my father had to go to three separate locations before he actually met the man.”
“What man?”
“I don’t know. Someone high up in the OSS, maybe. Or the War Department. At any rate, he wanted to know if my father was interested in bringing his work to the US. The government wanted to revisit eugenics—not to create a Master Race—but to manipulate genes for other purposes.”
“What purposes?”
“I told you. I don’t know. But given my father’s background, and what they’re talking about today, I suspect it was some kind of germ warfare program.” Anna nervously cleared her throat. “This man offered to smuggle my father out of Germany and bring him here. He would avoid prosecution and imprisonment. In fact, there would be no consequences. None at all.” She paused. “Of course, my father said yes.”
Anna stopped walking. They had almost reached the western edge of the Midway. “So you see, Nouri, my father was a Nazi.”
Nouri was silent.
“I was in middle school when I discovered it. One of my teachers left an article on my desk. I took it home and my father admitted it.”
“Is that why your parents divorced?”
She shaded her eyes against the setting sun. “I’m sure of it. They met at an embassy party in Washington after the war. I don’t think my mother knew who he was or what he was doing, but when she found out—which had to be when I was quite young—she left.”
“And you? What do you think?”
“I was just a little girl. I didn’t know why my mother left and didn’t take me with her. I still don’t. But she did leave, so my father was the only parent I had.” She was quiet for a moment. “I never had many friends, you know. It wasn’t that they shunned me…” her voice trailed off. “Or maybe it was. People tend to keep their distance from the daughter of a Nazi. My father was the only person who understood. And accepted me. At least on some level.” Her throat tightened. She faced Nouri. “So. Now you know. I can understand if you want to call it off. I wouldn’t blame you. After all, I am—what do they say?—‘damaged goods.’”
They turned around and walked back east up the Midway. Nouri didn’t say anything. Anna hung her head. She was afraid to look at him, afraid to breathe. It occurred to her that this must be what an innocent person accused of murder felt like just before the jury rendered a verdict. They walked past the statue again. Past leafy trees stirring in the breeze. Finally, Nouri turned to her. She froze, unsure what she would do if he said the wrong thing. She steeled herself for the worst.
“Well, then, it’s a good thing we’re moving to Iran.” He smiled down at her and squeezed her hand. “You will have a real family to care for you.”
Nine
Anna graduated in June. She skipped the ceremony, but she and Nouri celebrated by going out to dinner. It was, in fact, a double celebration: Nouri would be granted his master’s degree after he handed in his thesis. He told Anna he planned to finish it back in Iran and send it over. Anna didn’t pursue it; she was busy shopping and packing their things, which would be shipped to Iran. She bought a set of steak knives in a wooden block, jars of peanut butter, and boxes of tampons—all items she’d been told were hard to find in Tehran.
At the beginning of August they flew to Baltimore, rented a car, and headed west to Frederick. Once off the highway, they drove through rural Maryland farmland. Nouri, who had never been in this part of America, was surprised by the gently rolling hills and acres of crops. Anna explained that the land had been continually farmed since the 1700s, well before the American Revolution.
“What are those
“What man?”
“I don’t know. Someone high up in the OSS, maybe. Or the War Department. At any rate, he wanted to know if my father was interested in bringing his work to the US. The government wanted to revisit eugenics—not to create a Master Race—but to manipulate genes for other purposes.”
“What purposes?”
“I told you. I don’t know. But given my father’s background, and what they’re talking about today, I suspect it was some kind of germ warfare program.” Anna nervously cleared her throat. “This man offered to smuggle my father out of Germany and bring him here. He would avoid prosecution and imprisonment. In fact, there would be no consequences. None at all.” She paused. “Of course, my father said yes.”
Anna stopped walking. They had almost reached the western edge of the Midway. “So you see, Nouri, my father was a Nazi.”
Nouri was silent.
“I was in middle school when I discovered it. One of my teachers left an article on my desk. I took it home and my father admitted it.”
“Is that why your parents divorced?”
She shaded her eyes against the setting sun. “I’m sure of it. They met at an embassy party in Washington after the war. I don’t think my mother knew who he was or what he was doing, but when she found out—which had to be when I was quite young—she left.”
“And you? What do you think?”
“I was just a little girl. I didn’t know why my mother left and didn’t take me with her. I still don’t. But she did leave, so my father was the only parent I had.” She was quiet for a moment. “I never had many friends, you know. It wasn’t that they shunned me…” her voice trailed off. “Or maybe it was. People tend to keep their distance from the daughter of a Nazi. My father was the only person who understood. And accepted me. At least on some level.” Her throat tightened. She faced Nouri. “So. Now you know. I can understand if you want to call it off. I wouldn’t blame you. After all, I am—what do they say?—‘damaged goods.’”
They turned around and walked back east up the Midway. Nouri didn’t say anything. Anna hung her head. She was afraid to look at him, afraid to breathe. It occurred to her that this must be what an innocent person accused of murder felt like just before the jury rendered a verdict. They walked past the statue again. Past leafy trees stirring in the breeze. Finally, Nouri turned to her. She froze, unsure what she would do if he said the wrong thing. She steeled herself for the worst.
“Well, then, it’s a good thing we’re moving to Iran.” He smiled down at her and squeezed her hand. “You will have a real family to care for you.”
Nine
Anna graduated in June. She skipped the ceremony, but she and Nouri celebrated by going out to dinner. It was, in fact, a double celebration: Nouri would be granted his master’s degree after he handed in his thesis. He told Anna he planned to finish it back in Iran and send it over. Anna didn’t pursue it; she was busy shopping and packing their things, which would be shipped to Iran. She bought a set of steak knives in a wooden block, jars of peanut butter, and boxes of tampons—all items she’d been told were hard to find in Tehran.
At the beginning of August they flew to Baltimore, rented a car, and headed west to Frederick. Once off the highway, they drove through rural Maryland farmland. Nouri, who had never been in this part of America, was surprised by the gently rolling hills and acres of crops. Anna explained that the land had been continually farmed since the 1700s, well before the American Revolution.
“What are those
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