Remember the Stars

by Carraine Oldham

  “Why do we have to leave our home?”

  “All Jews will be deported out of Germany and into ghettos or work camps—”

  “Or killed!”

  Henry squeezes my hand and a pained expression crosses his face. I know he’s helpless, and I don’t bear any ill thoughts towards him. There’s a physical pain in my chest when he brings his lips to mine, knowing that this night may be our last together.

  He breaks our kiss and speaks in a low tone. “Once you receive the notice, you’ll have twenty-four hours to pack your belongings. They will only allow you two suitcases for your entire family. You must cooperate, Estherly. Refusal to obey the order will result in your demise. You must make sure that each of your family members adheres to the decree. You’ll be allowed to keep what you’re wearing.” Henry places money into the palm of my hand. “This is the currency you’re allowed to carry. I need you to listen to everything I say.”

  “I will.”

  He pinches the fabric of my coat between two of his fingers. “Do you have a thicker coat than this?”

  I nod.

  “Make sure each of you has a thick coat and socks, good shoes, and wear something warm under. From what I’ve been told, it gets very cold in Poland. If you sew pockets into your coat you may be able to carry items without the soldiers checking them. Their main agenda will be to get you on a train.”

  As he speaks, his words seem distant and unreal. My head swims with fogginess. His hushed words come so fast that I can’t take them all in. Each moment seems to pass by in slow motion. We’re being thrown out from our home…

  “They will not come to get you; your family must obey the order and go to the nearest train depot. Once most of the Jews have been transferred, they will come to make sure there are none remaining. Hitler wants to eradicate all Jews from Germany and move them all to the East. I’ve heard various rumors from the ghetto. I’ve been told that work is hard and long, and you will not earn wages. There will be meals provided by the Germans. Save this money for when your family is in need, in case I’m not transferred and there to help you. Use your pockets that you sew into your coat for valuables that you may be able to sell in the ghetto.”

  “Henry, you’re frightening me.”

  “My love,” he grabs my shoulders and stares into my eyes. “It is scary. Life as you know it will not be the same. They’re going to try and convince you that the relocation is best for all Jews, but the rumors I’ve heard tell a different tale.”

  “I’m so scared,” I say before falling into his embrace.

  “I am, too. I will do everything in my power to find you if we’re separated.”

  “What if you’re not transferred? We’ll never see each other again.”

  He holds me tighter, his warm breath caressing my neck. “Please don’t speak of such things. I would die if I didn’t have you in my life. I will find a way to make it to Łódź.”

  “What if this is our last night together?”

  He places his finger to my lips and then presses his lips to mine. We remain in the moment as salty tears stream down my cheeks, trickling into our kiss. Henry slides my coat off and then my nightgown. I stand bare, in the moonlight. He takes me there, in what might be our last night together.

  Morning sunlight shines through the windows as I walk into the living room. I see my father showing my mother a piece of paper. Her face looks pained as she reads what is on the sheet. In my heart, I know that it is the notice of relocation that Henry told me about last night, and any lingering hope fades. My parents glance at me with worried expressions.

  “Go get your sisters,” my father says.

  Trying to spare them from the news, I take my time walking up the stairs to get Oma and Anika.

  After the three of us file down the stairs to the living room, my father clears his throat and reads the notice to us. Although I knew this was coming, it sounds different when it comes from my father. I grasp Oma’s and my baby sister’s hands and look down at the floor. Oma’s hand trembles in mine. Small whimpers come from my mother. I wish I could take her pain away. My father finishes reading, and I raise my eyes to look at him and my mother. Fear settles in their wide eyes, and I wish I was able to tell them all that Henry explained to me.

  “They can’t do this!” Oma screams.

  “They most certainly can,” my mother says. “They took your brother and got away with it. We’re helpless in all of this.”

  “If we don’t comply, they’ll kill us,” I say, remembering how Henry warned me that we must obey the order.

  My family falls silent after my exclamation, no doubt because they all know I’m right.

  Next to me, Anika cries, so I kneel and take her into my arms. “We’ll be together, my sweet girl. We may have to leave our home, but at least we can go together.” Standing up, I square my shoulders and walk to where my mother and father stand. I take the notice from my father’s hand and look it over. “We don’t have much time before we have to be at the train station. I heard that if we sew pockets into our coats, we can carry some of our valuables into the ghetto without them being confiscated. Father, you should go through our assets and see if there’s any we can carry on us. Mother, you see here,” I point to the notice. “We’re allowed little food, so you should work on packing that. Oma, you should help me sew the pockets into each of our coats. Anika,” I say, knowing that giving her a job will help keep her mind off what’s to come, “can you find two suitcases? It says here that we need to paint our names on them. I think that’s the perfect job for you.”

  I mobilize my family into action and then walk outside to take a deep breath. I’m acting as though I’m strong. Inside, I’m scared to death.

  My family sits in the living room. Placed by the door, our suitcases are a stark reminder of what tomorrow brings. My mother and father are huddled near one another on the couch while Anika plays near my feet with toys she won’t be able to bring with her to Łódź. Oma works on my father’s coat, the last one we have to sew pockets into, and I write in my beloved diary. Although I love my diary, I know there’s no room for it in my jacket, and I don’t want to risk anyone finding it and learning of my relationship with Henry. I have decided to bury it in the barn along with my ballet slippers, my jewelry box, and photographs. That way, when the war ends, I can come home and retrieve them. I rise from the sitting chair and walk towards the kitchen. My family is so lost in thought that they don’t say a word as I move out of the room.

  In the kitchen, I take one of our larger dish rags and wrap the items I intend to bury in it. Walking past the living room, I say, “I’m going to the barn to hide my treasures.” I suggested to my family earlier in the day that we should hide our most cherished possessions, as Henry told me to.

  Hearing my words, Anika pops off the floor and follows me out the front door carrying her most beloved doll.

  “Is that what you’ve chosen to hide?” I ask, as we walk across the yard.

  “I hate putting her in the dirt, Estherly. Her pretty hair will be ruined.”

  “You can clean her up when we come back for her. Go run to the kitchen and grab another rag so we can wrap her up. I’ll meet you in the barn.”

  Standing in the barn, I reminisce about all the moments I’ve shared here with Henry and wonder if I’ll see him tonight. Starting at the barn door, I walk ten paces to the right and look down at the ground. I place my items in the spot I intend to dig up and then turn, searching for a shovel. After finding one, I return to the spot and plunge the shovel into the dirt.

  “I have a rag,” Anika calls, as she enters.

  “Wrap her up nice and tight. Do you want to put her with my things?”

  Anika nods and I take the doll from her and lay it down near my things. Once the hole is deep enough, I grab the diary from the small pile of my things and write one last entry.

  I read it out loud as I write it… “Tomorrow, my family will be deported to the Łódź ghetto.”

&nbs
p; Chapter 13 – Ferrin

  It’s early Saturday morning when my phone wakes me from a deep sleep. I fumble with it until I get a good grip and then look at the screen. Seeing that it’s Sam calling, I answer right away.

  “Good morning,” I say, my throat a little raspy.

  “I have good news for you.”

  “You do?” I ask, my voice elevating on the last word.

  “The Crabtrees contacted the woman who owned the house before them, and she said we could meet her for coffee in a few hours. She knows who Estherly is.”

  I shoot straight up in bed and grab at my chest. “Oh, Sam, that’s the best news I’ve had in days. I can be ready in an hour. What time does she want to meet? Is she going to take the diaries away? What about the photos?”

  “Slow down,” Sam says. “We’re meeting her at ten o’clock. You’ve got plenty of time to get ready and she didn’t give any indication that she’s going to take Estherly’s things back.”

  It takes all I have not to jump from my bed and dance around my room.

  “I’m so anxious.”

  “I know. But in a few more hours we’ll be closer to finding Estherly than we’ve been since we started looking. Hang onto that.”

  “I’m going to hop in the shower. I’ll be over after I take care of Otie.”

  “See you soon.”

  We end our call, and I fall back on my bed, being careful not to bulldoze Otis. I turn, and he licks the tip of my nose and snuggles near my cheek. I run my hand over his fur and nuzzle him.

  “Otis, today I might learn where Estherly is. Can you believe that?”

  He purrs in response. “We’re out of Fancy Feast, Mum. Stop off at the supermarket, will you now?”

  I shake my head and make a mental note to get him more cat food later. “Mom has to go take a shower. You enjoy sleeping in.” I pull myself from bed and walk to my bathroom.

  Sam and I walk into a local coffee house, and the aroma causes my mouth to water. I search the room for a middle-aged woman with gray hair, dressed in beige blouse with red roses on it. I spot her sipping something from a cup in the corner of the café, staring out the window.

  “Sam, that looks like her from the description she gave you.”

  Sam smiles and then, to my surprise, grabs my hand and leads me toward her.

  “Miriam?” he asks, when we approach the table.

  I don’t know what’s more exciting, holding onto Sam’s hand or meeting someone who can tell me more about Estherly.

  The woman turns and grins at us with kind, hazel eyes. “You must be Sam and Ferrin.”

  “That’s us,” Sam says, shooting her a wide smile.

  “Thank you so much for meeting us,” I say, and offer her my free hand.

  She takes it, and I can’t help the enormous smile forming on my face.

  “Please, sit.” Miriam gestures.

  Sam lets go of my hand, leaving me feeling a bit empty. He pulls a chair out for me, filling me with elation as I sit.

  “Would you two like to order drinks?” Miriam asks.

  “I’d love a mocha latte. What about you?”

  “I’m fine. I had good ol’ Folgers this morning,” Sam says.

  Miriam and I snicker at one another, and I can already tell I’m going to like this woman.

  I move to get up, and Sam motions for me to stay where I am.

  “What size do you want, and you like it iced, right?”

  “I’ll take a large, and yes, iced with an extra shot of espresso would be fabulous. Thank you.”

  Sam gets up and walks away. I turn my attention back to Miriam, who re-greets me with another kind smile.

  “I hope you don’t mind me saying this, but your husband is quite good looking.”

  I warm at the thought, but I shake my head. “Sam is my friend and neighbor.”

  “Ah, I’m sorry.”

  “No need to be sorry at all. I understand why it may be confusing.”

  “So… you found the boxes in his attic or yours?”

  “In Sam’s. He owns your old house.”

  Miriam stirs what looks like chai tea and looks down at her cup, as if reminiscing about something. “I love that old house. Are you in the house to the left or right if you’re facing it from the street?”

  “On the left.”

  “Oh, that’s a lovely home, too. I always admired it. It’s one of the best on the block. Is the neighborhood still quiet?”

  I smile. “Yes. It’s very nice. I’m happy there.”

  “Does Sam take care of my old place?” Miriam asks.

  “I’m not sure what he’s done since he bought it, but it’s truly a lovely home. The backyard is my favorite part, along with the old-fashioned kitchen. He’s a bachelor, so you can imagine how it’s decorated.”

  Miriam giggles before sipping her tea.

  I turn and search for Sam because my impatience is growing with each passing minute. I catch him walking our way with a coffee in his hand and another huge grin on his face.

  He makes his way back to the table, places my coffee in front of me, and sits. With him back, I’m now ready to ask Miriam questions.

  “I’ll admit, Miriam, I’m dying to ask you about Estherly. How do you know about her?”

  “Estherly is, or was, married to my late husband’s great uncle Oren.”

  I look at Sam and widen my eyes. I wonder to myself what happened to Henry, and my heart breaks a little when I realize their love didn’t survive.

  “To be honest,” Miriam says, “I don’t know much about her except she was a Holocaust survivor. I never met her in person. I’ve heard about her at family gatherings from time to time. I’m afraid I won’t have many answers for you.”

  “You said is or was married to Oren,” Sam chimes in. “Does that mean you don’t know if she’s still living?”

  “I don’t,” Miriam says, with a sincere look of apology.

  Unable to hold it back, I let out a deep sigh.

  “I can imagine you’re disappointed,” Miriam says. “If my husband, Edgar, were still alive, he’d have more answers for you. I’m not sure how Edgar’s mother got a hold of those boxes and I honestly forgot about them till Mary and Clyde, the Crabtrees, called, saying you kids were investigating how to find Estherly.”

  “I hope you don’t mind that we helped ourselves to the diaries,” Sam says.

  “Not at all. I find it very intriguing. If I had known that’s what was contained in those tattered old boxes, I may have read them myself.”

  “Do you know how Estherly came to live in the U.S.?” I ask, hoping Miriam may have something Sam and I can go on.

  “I believe it was due to her marriage to Oren. I know that Oren was a soldier in World War II, and he met her while serving in Europe after the liberation.”

  “Do you know anything about a German soldier named Henry or Estherly’s family?” I ask.

  Miriam shakes her head while appearing to wrack her brain. “I think the other piece of information that I can give you that may help is I believe they lived in Chesapeake, Virginia. It’s been so long since I’ve heard from that side of the family. Honestly…” She reaches a hand across the table and takes mine under hers. “Estherly would be in her nineties. She may not still be living.”

  I nod; the thought has crossed my mind more than once, and I don’t have much hope of ever meeting the woman who is making such an impact on my life, but I can’t give up trying. “I understand. I’m trying not to get my hopes up too much.”

  “What was Oren’s last name?” Sam asks and pulls a small notebook and a pen from his back jeans pocket.

  “Rose. Oren Jonathan Rose. I believe he worked at a base in or near Chesapeake. I truly wish I had more for you two to go on. I think it’s admirable that you’re searching for Estherly.”

  Estherly Rose… I repeat in my mind. What a gorgeous name.

  “We appreciate every tiny bit of knowledge you can pass on to us,” Sam says.

&nb
sp; “Did you want to see the diaries and photos?” I ask. “We brought them. They’re in Sam’s truck.”

  “I’d love to. Maybe some of the photos will jog my memory,” Miriam says.

  Sam stands up and lets us know he’ll be right back.

  I give Miriam a smile as a way of thanking her for the information she’s passed on to Sam and me. Although they’re tiny pieces of a massive puzzle, I can’t help hoping we’re on the cusp of learning Estherly’s fate.

  Sam comes back to the table with the photo albums I arranged and the two diaries. He retakes his seat and we pass everything over to Miriam. She runs her fingers over the cover of the first diary before opening it up. Inside, I taped Estherly’s portrait, and Miriam stares at it for a few moments.

  “She was a beautiful girl. I remember Edgar mentioning how elegant and graceful she was. I don’t think I’ve ever seen this image of her, though. It truly is lovely.”

  “It’s almost as if she’s speaking to you from the photograph,” I say and then sigh.

  “I didn’t realize the diaries were in German. How do you translate them?”

  “I can read and speak German. I guess it was meant to be that I found Estherly’s diaries,” I say.

  Miriam flips through the diary pages, seemingly as fascinated as Sam and I are with the story the diary contains.

  “Her story is heartbreaking. We’ve only read the first diary. We’ll begin the second one tonight. If you don’t mind us keeping all of this, that is,” I say.

  “Oh, dear, of course you’re keeping these things. I mean, technically they belong to Sam because we forgot them in the attic. When we sold the house, Edgar was very ill, and I was responsible for packing everything. It slipped my mind that we had things in the attic.”

  “There’s an old grandfather clock up there. Is that yours?” Sam asks.

  Miriam’s brightened eyes and subtle smile tell me that it belonged to her and her late husband.

  “I’d be happy to deliver it to your home if you’d like it back,” Sam offers.