This title was published in the 2019 issue of the literary magazine Labyrinth by Bergen Community College and won first place in “Best Fiction”. This story is inspired by true events.

“Have you any firearms, drugs, pornography or Bibles?”  The officer shone his flashlight in Michael’s heavily-lidded eyes.  In the calmest voice he replied, 

“Take a look.”  The officer nodded at him and began to search the perimeter of the car and the trailer that it was hauling.  From the back seat, Stephan watched as Michael took a breath. His gray-eyed gaze looked out upon the road and the fog before him.  He had this sleepy presence about him, and amidst the panic-inducing atmosphere, his lips formed into a gentle, natural smile that made it seem like he knew everything was going to be okay.  Meanwhile, Thomas was sitting in the passenger seat, viciously biting his nails. Stephan could tell it was out of anger, not nervousness. To Stephan, Thomas was never afraid of anything.

“This is all because you thought it was a good idea to drive with high beams on, Michael.  You’re such a Dummkopf,” Thomas scream-whispered to him.  This whole operation had been Thomas’s idea but during the entire trip, he had been the one to complain or doubt their potential success the most.

“It’s going to be fine, we’ll be in Sopot before you know it,” Michael responded with such a placid demeanor that both Thomas and Stephan’s sense of insecurity faded simply at the sound of their friend’s voice.  As the officer made his way around the trailer, Stephan thought about how he had gotten into this whole mess.

It had only been a week or so ago when Stephan was buried in his Bible studies, he and his notes spread out on the floor when Thomas had come rushing into their dorm room with exciting information.  Thomas had an electrifying appearance with his lemon-yellow hair and intelligent blue eyes, awake, and ready for action. He was known for his social charm and persuasive ways but tended to doubt others’ achievements when juxtaposed against his own.  But above all, he was the leader and initiator of many crazy antics.  

“You wouldn’t guess what I’ve found!” Thomas exclaimed as he plopped down on his bed.  He had been sharing a dorm room with Stephan since the semester had started at the seminary.  Stephan had grown up outside of Hamburg and lived a sheltered childhood. Going away from home to study in the city was a completely new adventure for him, but all of that was about to change.  

That day, Thomas explained that he had been in touch with an organization that was seeking to transport religious materials into the Soviet Bloc.  Stephan had heard stories about people trying to help persecuted Christians in places like Poland and Czechoslovakia, but the bravest of them ventured into the Soviet Union, and many of them ended up in prison for years if they were caught just carrying a Bible.  

“Thomas, we can’t do something like that,” Stephan muttered.  The semester and Stephan’s journey to ministry had only just begun.  As an incoming freshman, he was shy around Thomas who boasted the authoritarian presence of a proper sophomore.  While Thomas might be able to get away with such a precarious act, Stephan’s reputation was a clean slate and the risk one not worth taking.  He was a good student. School had started only weeks ago and already he had been bombarded with homework and studying and was attempting to keep his record in good standing.

“Wake up!” Thomas suddenly cried, quoting from Revelation.  “‘Strengthen what remains and is about to die…’ Right?” Stephan’s eyes widened at Thomas as he continued to say, “don’t you think this is our duty as Christians?  It isn’t fair knowing we have the luxury of the Scriptures while our fellow believers can only preach by word of mouth.” Stephan remained sitting upon the old, creaky, wooden floorboards wide-eyed and looking at Thomas.  Was this really what God could have wanted?  Stephan’s mind wandered as Thomas soliloquized.  All his life, Stephan had known Germany divided by East and West.  Growing up, he knew of the Berlin Wall and couldn’t imagine life without it, but he knew of a history when it hadn’t always been so.  The oppression from within the Soviet Bloc regarding religion was such an everyday occurrence that Stephan didn’t think about it often.  But as Thomas kept speaking of underground churches where Christians had to worship in private, Stephan began to believe that this was his calling.  By the time Thomas was done with the monologue, Stephan didn’t care if the Soviets thought that Christianity was blasphemous, he knew it was his destiny to preach the Word of God.  

Before long, Thomas was chatting up the plan with Michael, also known as “Thomas’s designated pushover”.  It was Michael’s last year at their seminary, and that 1984 September was the beginning of his final studies.  Even though he was the oldest, he wasn’t exactly the smartest. Michael was laid-back and would do anything Thomas asked of him.  His eyes were a rainy gray and his fawn brown hair was permanently styled in the form of a disheveled bedhead. Everything about his appearance was pale and hazy which suited him since he had a reputation for falling asleep in class at a moment’s notice.  Although most tired people might seem a bit unapproachable, Michael came off as being friendly because he was always wearing a gentle smile as if he had just awoken from a pastel-colored dream and continued to see his woken life in that soft palette.  

From the short time he knew them, Stephan saw Thomas and Michael as complementary opposites.  Thomas was outgoing and excited, while Michael stayed in the background as the silent supporter.  Thomas’s emotions fluxed between rage and euphoria several times a day; whereas, Michael’s emotion was stagnant and monotone, the same drowsy smile paired with the same drowsy gaze.  Stephan was unsure how he fit into the whole thing. He was new to this world, naïve and inexperienced.  In the mirror, he thought he still looked like a kid.  Perhaps, it was all of this: his sweet disposition, as well as the scruffy sable-colored hair, freckled nose, and wide-eyed stare that Thomas had become aware of.  Thomas felt that Stephan was impressionable as the freshman entered the threshold of living within a city for the first time. However, he also saw Stephan as the perfect candidate to be his next designated pushover after Michael’s departure and had decided to take him under his wing.

“The head of the organization said he’ll be able to drop off the car and trailer in a few days,” Thomas mentioned to the group.  The three boys met in Stephan and Thomas’s dormitory and began to hatch their plan. “Carpenters have built a double wall into the trailer; that’s where the Bibles are hidden.  They also decided to fill the main compartment of the trailer with camping supplies as a decoy. We have to take the Bibles to an underground Methodist Church outside of Gdańsk, Poland.  The organization gave me the address, and they said we have a high chance of success. Nothing to worry about,” Thomas explained without any fear. The organization had also provided Thomas with the itinerary mapping out the entire trip.  It seemed simple: In, and out. They would drive through East Germany and into Poland, and then try to keep as far north of Berlin as possible.

“That’s it?  That’s all we’ll have to do?” Stephan had managed to get the words out.

“Well, there’s one more thing,” Thomas admitted.  “We can’t talk about it.” Michael and Stephan both had a sense of confusion drawn upon their faces.

“What do you mean?” Michael asked.  Thomas sighed and said,

“Rumor has it that once you enter the Soviet Bloc, there is a possibility that a listening device could be attached to the car.”  Hearing this sent a shiver up Stephan’s spine. He began questioning if he was really going to do this. “Once we get into East Germany,” Thomas mentioned, “we absolutely cannot say anything pertaining to Christianity.”  The room was quiet for a moment, and then Michael asked,

“So just run these Bibles into Poland and come home?”  Stephan piped up to correct him and said,

“We’re running…” his voice trailed off for a moment to think.  “We’re running Brot into Poland.”  

“Exactly,” Thomas smiled.  From then on, they referred to their mission simply as a bread delivery.

Within days, the people associated with the organization had dropped off the Mercedes and trailer in the middle of the night.  Assuming the appearance of tourists, they had parked, gotten out of the car, and then walked away from it, leaving the key on the floor of the driver’s side.  After a few minutes, the trio of friends appeared and packed themselves into the formerly abandoned vehicle with their visas and passports and proceeded towards the border.  There was no contact made between the two groups.  

It began as a trepidatious adventure with the sharing of tall tales and jokes to ease the rushed mix of excitement and nervousness.  The night was dark and with the limitless speed of the Autobahn, the rush of adrenaline in each of the boys was at its peak. The crisp night air danced its way through the window, tousling Stephan’s hair and giving his arms goosebumps.  This was the craziest thing he had ever done.  

In just over an hour, the car rolled up to the border crossing into Zarrentin, East Germany.  Stephan held his breath. It was pitch black that night. Few travellers were at the guard station.  However, there were enough to keep the boys waiting for almost an entire hour before they were inspected.  A young KGB officer came over to the car asking for identification and began looking at the vehicle. Michael, whom Thomas had appointed as the driver, handed over each of the passports and visas.  He knew that with Michael driving there would be fewer outbursts of road rage, as well as little aggressive driving, and above all, the confident charm that would win over any officer were they to be pulled over.  The guard came up the side of the car hiding a yawn, and Stephan could see the darkness under his eyes. How long has he been out here?  It must be so tedious checking all these cars, Stephan wondered.  Another officer, this one more assertive, started marching over to the trailer.  He began opening the latch and flashing his light inside. The tired officer asked the equally tired Michael,

“What is the purpose of your journey into the East Bloc?”  Michael wanted to say “bread delivery” just to be funny, but instead he kept his eyes locked on the officer and said,

“Camping trip.”  To Michael’s luck, the assertive officer who was looking in the trailer found the decoy sleeping bags, tent, and other camping supplies, and as such, overlooked the double wall.  Stephan noticed a third officer was with them, telling the assertive one,

“Let ‘em through.  They’re just kids.”  The third officer looked the youngest of all and seemed almost afraid.

“Did you check the car?”  The assertive one demanded of the tired one.

“Huh?”  The tired one slowly lifted his head and then said, “oh yeah, everything’s fine.”

“Let them through,” the youngest, timid one said.  He had seemed as if he didn’t want this job; it was like someone had forced him into it.  He didn’t know himself well enough yet. The timid officer only did border control because it felt like the right thing to do.  It wasn’t long before Michael revved up the engine and then the three colleagues drove away towards Poland, leaving their East German officer parallels behind.  

The journey across East Germany took another hour, and dawn was fast approaching.  They drove along a route to avoid Berlin at all costs. They knew their vehicle would be torn apart and searched if they were directed into West Berlin.  The thought of how close they were to such catastrophe left Stephan silently praying in the back seat for God’s protection. Meanwhile, Thomas began to doubt their success.

“We won’t make it,” Thomas muttered.  

“Shut up,” Michael said lazily.  

“It’s true, I doubt they’ll like the bread when they see it,” Thomas said sharply, trying to scare Stephan.  Although Thomas did not appear scared on the surface, he was quite nervous deep down and was questioning whether or not they would complete the mission.  He never showed his fear, however, and Stephan was gullible enough to start doubting their quest along with Thomas. The difference was that Stephan who prayed and prayed quietly in his mind did so out of fear, and with that, a glimmer of hope remained within him.  

It wasn’t much longer until the car touched the border of Poland; the clock struck the blue hour.  A dense fog coated the woods and road. Twilight was barely visible. Michael turned on the high beams of the car to pierce the darkness of the shaded pine forest.  With the density of the fog, it was inevitable that his tactic would fail. Before he could revert to using the low beams, a flashing blue light came after them, and Michael  began the steady deceleration. No one had seen the cop car that had been parked on the shoulder of the road as they had zoomed past it.

“Have you any firearms, drugs, pornography or Bibles?”  the officer asked.

“Take a look,” Michael responded with his peaceful aura.  The officer nodded and circled the car.

The foreboding mist clung to the air.  With it, a sense of dread stood stagnant.  Together, the fog with the fear of being found guilty of smuggling made the dark vast forest of black pine appear to be as much of a barrier as the officer’s presence.  The difference was that the trees knew. The trees had a looming presence, craning over the trio of scholars as if reprimanding them of their foolhardiness. Thomas began to complain and blame Michael for having his high beams on while driving through the fog.  Michael sat quietly, taking the jabs, and Stephan was left to timidly whip around back and forth in the passenger seat, his eyes following the officer as he circled around the trailer. The officer came back to them and simply said,

“Move along.”

Within a half hour, the boys reached Sopot, each of them sighing with a sense of relief.  It was a small beach town outside the city of Gdańsk, and the fog began to lift as the sun rose from its grave.  It revealed the glistening water of the bay, its calming presence as a declaration of peace. They reached their meeting point with the Methodist pastor.  It was in the back parking lot of an abandoned warehouse. The pastor invited them inside, where he led them to a nearly empty room within which a glazed light peeked through the paper-covered windows. 

“I’ve been preaching sermons here for the past three years based on this.”  The pastor carefully pulled a mangled sheet of folded paper from his pocket.  Stephan’s jaw dropped at the sight of it. It was a solitary page from the Bible.  The words had been worn, almost illegible. At the creases of the folds, one couldn’t make out what it said at all.  It was the second half of the seventh chapter of Acts. The story of the first Christian martyr. The back had the beginning of chapter eight.  Stories of the first persecuted believers of Jesus the Christ, deprived of religious freedom. “Everything I have to teach,” the pastor wept, “is easier now.  Have this.” He handed the singular, thin sheet to Stephan, who was overwhelmed with happiness at the sight of the pastor’s grateful grin, and slipped the sheet into his own pocket.  They began unloading the two-hundred Bibles out of the trailer. As they unpacked, the never-opened Bibles smelled new; the covers were without any flaws. The pastor couldn’t stop mentioning how happy he was that the children of the church would finally have learning materials for Sunday School.  All of them had grown up without ever having seen a Bible. The idea of children having access to knowledge right at their fingertips warmed Stephan’s heart and pleased him to no end. He couldn’t imagine what it was like for the pastor to preach from only two chapters of the Bible for over three years.  He couldn’t imagine what it was to grow up as a child not knowing the Bible at all. As the three friends left to take their time driving back to Hamburg via East Germany. Stephan knew that he had done the right thing, fulfilling the act of a true Christian.  

As they entered East Germany, rain clouds receded from the sky. The sun shone through the cracks of the clouds and lit up the luscious green of the pine trees.  Michael took to the roads more slowly this time. Without the bread in the trailer, they knew they would be fine. Once again, they were able to enjoy the road and sense of adventure that it offered until Thomas interrupted by saying,

“I think we need to make a pit stop.”

“What for?” Michael asked.

“A piss break, genius,” Thomas snapped.  He looked out into the woods and said, “besides, the clouds are clearing up.  Let’s stretch our legs.” The road was desolate and the all-knowing trees welcomed back the boys by leading them into their shaded darkness with open arms.  After being done with their pit stop, the friends trailed deeper into the foreboding woods, down a long slope.  The giant trees became dense, suddenly acting as a harbinger to go no further.  Nonetheless, there was a sense of ethereal magic within the woods as the dappled light filtered through the trees.  

“Hey look,” Stephan said.  The ground at his feet was damp from the foggy mist that had settled earlier that morning, followed by the brief rainfall.  He pointed at some small, yellowish fungi. “Chanterelles!” He cried. “We should bring some home.” Thomas began to wander off and suddenly called out,

“Hey, there are porcini mushrooms over here.”  He began plucking through the ground and waved Michael to come over to him.  Meanwhile, Stephan was fascinated by the number of chanterelles he had found and began foraging for other species of mushrooms.  Michael sauntered over to Thomas and crouched next to him. “Wanna pull a prank?” Thomas murmured to his designated pushover.

“On Stephan?” Michael asked, a bit confused as usual.  “Not really,” he admitted.

“Oh c’mon,” said Thomas.  “Let’s tell him to keep looking for mushrooms and we’ll go back up to the car, turn it on, and then pretend that we’re driving off without him.”

“That’s messed up,” Michael replied.

“It’ll be funny,” Thomas insisted.  “Imagine how scared he’ll be when he thinks we’re leaving without him.”

“I was kind of looking forward to mushroom foraging,” Michael said slowly as his gloomy gray eyes swept across the forest floor.  

“I doubt you have the guts to do it,” Thomas teased a little.

“You doubt a lot of things, Thomas.”

“C’mon,” He persisted.  With a heavy sigh, Michael got up from his crouching position and turned around to see the small, impressionable Stephan with a handful of mushrooms. 

Michael called out, “Stephan, you should check down there for more.  Mushrooms grow in wet, dark places, and all the water runs off to lower ground.  We’re going to look up here to see what other plants we can find.” Stephan nodded and followed orders.  He began to go further down the slope as Michael and Thomas trekked back up toward the road. Stephan was happy to help his friends, and his mind wandered about the possible mushroom dishes they could make that night.  After their adventure, they deserved a well-earned feast that had been freshly harvested from the earth.  

“This is so messed up,” Michael kept saying, but kept going along with Thomas’s plan.  They hiked up the slope and came in sight of the car. They had only been in the woods for a short time when they unknowingly found themselves in the eye of the storm.  Above them, the rain clouds had started coming in again, making the world dimmer. “We should go back,” Michael said with worry. “It’s going to rain again soon, we can’t leave Stephan down there.”

“Just turn on the car quickly,” Thomas pushed.  As Michael came around the driver’s side, he noticed a police car parked down the road.  On that same side of the car, he saw the two officers who had gotten there before them. One had dismantled a part of the trailer, revealing the double wall.  The other stood by the driver side door, the window having been shattered with the shards lying on the ground. He held two passports in his hand; in the trio’s insouciance, they had been left on the console in between the driver and passenger seats.  Michael stood frozen in shock, and Thomas came running around the other side, ready to fight. The officer with the passports announced, 

“Michael Schröder and Thomas Wolff, you are under arrest for the distribution of illegal propaganda.”  

With those few words, Michael’s eyes, for the first time, widened with shock and sheer panic.  His pastel daydream suddenly became saturated with pigment. Seeing the world in true form--in its bright, bold color as the last ray of light snuck through the stormy clouds-- blinded him.  Before he realized it, Thomas had attempted to clock the officer across the jaw with a speedy hook of the fist. He had followed through the punch leading his swing to be countered by nought but the pavement.  In a few quick motions, while yet on the ground, a full blown fight broke out between Thomas and both East German policemen. Eventually, Michael overcame his drowsy, slow reaction time and realized that this was all happening in full color right before him.  Before he knew it, he was yelling after Thomas and getting involved with the fight. A punch thrown across the face again. A jab to the abdomen.  Someone grabbed onto someone’s hair. Another clawed at another one’s leg. Someone else even bit someone’s arm. And someone out in the woods from afar was watching it all go down. Stephan didn’t know what to do.  The people he thought were his friends had tried to abandon him in the forest.  Still hidden by low shrubs and trees, he looked at the mob from atop the slope that he had climbed.  He saw the red, swollen marks on Thomas’s face. He saw the blood dripping from Michael’s lip. He looked down and saw the mushrooms in his hands and thought, how naïve am I?  Stephan wanted to prove to himself and to everyone else that he wasn’t just some kid that could be pushed around.  During the entire trip, he had been so nervous, so unsure. But at the sight of the pastor’s expression when his eyes had lit up when they gazed upon the Brot delivery, Stephan knew that for once he had been a hero.  He felt so graced in that short moment; he had risked his life to save the Word of God.  He would do it all over again.  So, he would risk it on behalf of his friends in order for them to continue on as successful ministers.  With that, Stephan took a deep breath, and from the dense, dark woods, he screamed. He continued to shrill for quite some time which paused the fight between the officers and students.  Then, all was quiet for a moment.

“Stephan?!” Michael called out in a panicked worry.  The two officers bolted off into the woods concerned about what had happened.  Thomas and Michael remained stationary as their state of shock kept them from moving.  Stephan began to run.  He ran down the slope and continued on into the thickness of the forest.  He ran at full speed and heard the officers behind him not knowing their intention was only to see what was wrong.  From his pocket slipped the page from the Bible the pastor had given him. All it took was a single slice of bread to lay on the damp forest floor.

“Look!” One of the officers called out, picking up the page and immediately recognizing it for what it was-- forbidden propaganda.  Stephan was now their enemy having gone from possible victim to villain, and with a shared glance at the words before their eyes, the officers shifted their look to one another and began chasing after the young, innocent foe.

“Halt!” They called out.  Stephan kept running. As the forest became more dense, tree roots had grown beyond the surface of the forest floor, making it the ultimate obstacle course.  “Stop, stop!” They continued to call out. He heaved with panic and terror, unable to catch his breath. He snaked between trees, and hurdled over rocks. The sound of twigs snapping beneath his feet.  The calamity in his breath and the cacophony of blood rushing through his ears instilled a sense of alarm, but it was too late. He heard gunshots being fired at him. He ran faster.  He could feel and hear his own heart pumping.  The forest became so dark; the clouds had rolled in again.  He was not sure where he was going, but he knew that he could not stop.  While they were shooting at him, Stephan prayed, Lord Jesus, receive my spirit.  Out of nowhere, he tripped on a tree root and fell to his knees crying out,

“Lord do not hold this sin against them!”  There was a final shot that Michael and Thomas heard echoing in the woods somewhere.  A murder of crows cawed and flew from the looming pines, and then there was silence.

END