“Hey, you have a job with me as long as you need one.”
“Thank you. Thank you for everything. Thank you for helping me realize that I spent way too much of my life dedicated to that darn job.”
“I think you always knew it, honey. I needed to help you open your eyes. Well, Estherly and I helped you open your eyes, that is.”
“Speaking of Estherly, I was hoping we could spend the day doing more research on Meir. Do you have to work today?”
“I have to drop by those two job sites, and I need to drop Miriam’s clock off. I had a buddy of mine fix it up and get it working again.”
“Gosh, you’re an amazing man.”
“There was nothing to it. He owed me a favor.”
“You didn’t have to do that though,” I say.
“Yeah, I did. I could tell by her emotions that it has great meaning to her.”
“Is there anything I need to work on for you today?”
“I think you’ve earned a day off… with pay.” He winks.
I bust out laughing and he joins me.
Untangling from his arms, I sit up. His hand falls on my back and he massages me.
“I could get used to mornings like this,” I say.
“You better, because I plan on there being plenty more.” Sitting up, he wraps his arms around me, bringing me to his chest. “I’m going to run home, shower, and get work over with so I can come back and help you with that research.”
“Mmm,” I hum. “Don’t go yet.”
Moving my hair from the back of my neck and turning my skin to gooseflesh, Sam places soft kisses along the curve of my neck.
“I really do need to get going, even though I don’t want to. I could stay on this couch with you all day like this. You’re incredible. Have I told you how good you smell?”
“No, but I haven’t told you, either, and you do.”
He nuzzles into the crook of my neck, and I let my head fall back, feeling his breath on my flesh.
“You should at least let me feed you before you go,” I say.
“I can’t really argue with that.”
Pulling myself from his grasp, I get off the couch and head to the kitchen.
After breakfast, Sam heads off to work. I spend quality time with Otis and then jump on the computer for research. I pray for one crumb of evidence on Meir. Clicking through page after page of the same information, I find myself becoming more and more frustrated. Everything points in the same direction--a dead end. As Helene said, the Kubises were killed. There’s very little information on them besides what we already know. I search for what seems like hours before giving up with a huff.
Looking at my phone, the time shows it’s after 1:00 PM, so I call to check in on Sam. When I reach him, he tells me that he’s on his way to my house, and a bubble of excitement erupts in the pit of my stomach. I take a moment and let the fact that Sam and I are now a couple sink in. It’s almost impossible to wrap my thoughts around it, but incredible. With him by my side, it’s as if life is heading in a new, wonderful direction.
Walking to the kitchen, I reminisce about the time we spent together last night, and chills cover my arms. Knowing he’ll be over any minute, I fix us lunch and bring it out to the living room. Picking up Estherly’s white diary, I study the cover and think of Oren. I long to know more about him and the love he had for Estherly.
My doorbell rings, and I hop off the couch and walk to the door.
Sam stands on the porch, holding a bouquet of wildflowers.
“You don’t have to knock or ring the bell. You can come in,” I say, with a smile. Taking the flowers, I lean in and kiss his cheek. “Thank you. This is so sweet of you.”
Moving to the side, I give him room to pass by me and come in.
“What are you up to?”
“I made us sandwiches. I was trying to find information on the Kubis family,” I say, leading Sam to the living room.
“Any luck?”
“None,” I say, disappointed.
“Where did you look?”
“Mainly the United States Holocaust Museum site. We’ve found so much valuable information there. A trip there is necessary. They have so many archives. I could spend an entire year researching all they have to offer.”
We both get comfortable on the couch.
“After lunch, I’ll hop on your laptop and do some more digging. I have a couple ideas,” he says before he sinks his teeth into his lunch.
Once we’re done eating, we don’t go right into research mode, we spend time talking about what work Sam needs me to do the next day and working out the details of my temporary employment.
With chit-chat about work out of the way, I snuggle next to Sam, craving his warmth. He takes me under his arm, and I rest my head on his chest, feelings of gratification washing over me. “This is nice.” I sigh.
“Sure beats the heck out of talking about business.” He kisses the top of my head and almost everything seems right in my world.
Closing my eyes, I take in his fragrant, manly scent. Running my fingers over his thigh, I take in a deep breath, feeling completely content.
“What do you want for dinner tonight?”
I laugh. “We just ate, and you’re already thinking of food.”
“You know what they say about men…”
Giggling, I extend my neck and give him a kiss.
We rest together until the room goes dark, fading in and out of conversation until we break apart. Sam heads to the computer, and I go to the kitchen to fix a little something for dinner.
With Otis slinking between my ankles, I stir the rice on the stove and check the vegetables steaming in the microwave.
“Ferrin,” Sam calls from the front room. “Come here. I found something.”
Stepping over Otis, I rush to the living room.
“Look at this,” Sam says, when I come up behind him and lean over his back. “You’re not going to believe this article I found in a UK publication. It’s about a woman named Aleksandra Galaska-Rodham. You might want to sit down for this,” he says, pulling out a chair. “Guess who her grandparents were.”
I shake my head, feeling shock come over me as I scan the words in the piece pulled up on the screen.
“The Kubises.”
My hand goes to my mouth, and I’m unable to say anything.
“This is our best lead yet. Aleksandra very recently came forward, claiming that her grandparents, Stefan and Amelia Galaska, were actually Sebastian and Aneta Kubis.
“In the article, Aleksandra says that her mother was sent to London to protect her mother’s life when the Kubises started transporting children from Poland to the UK. Her grandparents were killed, as we already know from what Helene told you. Aleksandra’s mother was raised by her great-uncle in London.
“Now brace yourself for this—Aleksandra claims that her family has records with the names of Jewish children they helped escape from Poland. Supposedly, there’s more than fifty names on documents the great-uncle passed down through generations. Apparently, the family was afraid of backlash and never came forward until now. These have to be the records that Estherly wrote about in her diary.”
“Are the records available online?”
“I haven’t checked yet, but they’re not part of what we’re looking at here. This article is only a week old. I’ll have to dig a bit deeper.”
“Sam, this is incredible. Estherly named Meir when she met Aneta and Sebastian. His name should be on those papers.”
“I know, I know,” he says, in a tone I think is meant to calm me.
“Can you find her? This Aleksandra?”
“Let’s see.”
Sam brings up another window and types in Google UK. He then types in Aleksandra’s name. We both look at the screen at the results, and there’s nothing of use.
“We have to find this woman. She may have the answer to where Meir is.”
“I have an idea. It’s early morning in London so we’ll hav
e to wait a few hours, but what if we call this magazine and ask them if they can get us in touch with Aleksandra?”
“It’s definitely worth a shot.”
“I think I smell something burning,” Sam says.
“Crap!” I hop from the chair and run to the kitchen, where I find what was supposed to be rice pilaf is now black-bottom rice. I turn the burner off and pull the pan from the stove and place it in the sink.
Coming into the kitchen, Sam wraps his arms around my waist and rests his chin on my shoulder. “I think we’ve really stumbled onto something here.”
“This is it. This is the missing piece. I hope they’ll help us. What if they won’t help us? What if they refuse to give us any information about her?”
“Shh, we’ll figure this out. I don’t believe that life is full of chances. I believe each of us has a path. There’s a reason I thought to search Google UK.”
Leaning into him, I wrap my arms around him and pull him to me.
“If we stay up till about midnight, the magazine office should be open by then. Until then, let’s have dinner and read more of Estherly’s diary.”
“Okay,” I say, then take in a deep breath and exhale. “I burned the rice.”
“That’s okay. Chicken and veggies are all I need. I’m going to go see what else I can find while you finish dinner. Or, did you need help?”
“No, no, I’m fine. If I don’t manage to burn anything else,” I say.
Sam laughs and goes back out to the living room.
I stare down at Otis, who lounges next to his food dish and looks back at me with an inquisitive gaze. Bending, I pet his black head and stroke his white chest. “This is it, Otie. I know it. Our missing piece.”
“Don’t muck up the food, Mum,” he responds. “I get the leftovers.”
“Quit being such a cheeky moggy,” I reply, raising my eyebrows. In my mind, Otis is very proud of his pedigree, and he wouldn’t take such an insult lightly.
“Someone’s been teaching you how to speak properly,” he says, not missing a beat. “Now, I’m quite knackered. Settle your collywobbles, and let’s get down to dinner with your boyfriend.”
We finish eating and settle near each other on the sofa, Estherly’s diary in my hands, ready to read.
“Sam?” I ask.
He looks at me with his caring eyes.
“Do you really think we’ll find information on Meir?”
“I do, honey. I really do.”
“Maybe we can find him for Estherly’s family?”
“We’ll certainly try,” he says.
I nod and open Estherly’s diary to the page we left off on.
31 May 1945
Once again, life has changed in unexpected and remarkable ways. Although there’s been plenty of bad news, the good news and events have helped me cope. I’m safe. I’m gaining strength, and I’m healing, each day. The Allied forces care for us and have rescued us from the atrocities brought against me and my people. While my heart is broken, it also soars.
Chapter 24 – Estherly
31 May 1945
The soft smell of roses dances through my senses. Opening my eyes, I find another beautiful bouquet in a vase on the nightstand near my hospital bed. Each day, fresh flowers greet me from Oren, making my heart sing. I have been in the hospital for a little over three weeks, and he never misses a single day visiting me. I’m grateful for his kindness and look forward to seeing him. I have grown very fond of him and appreciate how much he cares for me, both as a friend and my doctor. We’ve spent countless hours talking and learning about one another. Oren takes time to teach me words in English and has even brought in a soldier to tutor me.
Stretching my arms, I yawn and arch my back, and my body goes limp. Letting go of the tension in my muscles feels good. Looking around the room at all the other survivors gives me a sense of hope and fills my heart with pride. Everyone has a story, and all are remarkable. With the amount of people murdered, it’s amazing we’re here to tell our tales. The lady in the bed next to me told me about how she hid in a well for two days to escape being caught by the Nazis. She still grieves the loss of her whole family. Sometimes at night, I hear her crying, and it brings me to tears.
My eagerness to find Meir grows stronger every day, even after Oren explained that when the troops went to the Kubises’ home, no one answered. I beg him to take me there so I can see for myself, but he always tells me I’m too weak. He says the day will come soon when we can venture away from the hospital, and that I need to have patience.
Klara and Oskar come down the hall, and I smile. They take seats near my bed, and I sit up on the edge of the bed, reaching my hands out for them. Taking them, they both grin back with loving eyes.
“Hello, dear. You look good today. You have lots of color in your face,” Klara says.
Noticing they’re not clothed in hospital gowns, I ask, “Why are you dressed?”
Oskar’s eyes fall to the floor, and Klara squeezes my hand.
“We’re told we have to move to a different facility. It’s called a displaced person’s camp,” Klara says.
“What?” I ask, shocked.
“We’re well enough now that we don’t need to remain in the hospital anymore,” Oskar says. He peers up from the floor and locks his gaze with mine. “We’ve had word that our home is destroyed, and we have no family left to return to. The Allied forces have set these camps up for those like us who have nowhere else to go.”
“But… that means we’ll be separated,” I say in a hushed voice.
Klara lets go of my hand and moves next to me on the bed, taking me under her arm. “Once you’re well, you’ll probably be moved to a camp as well, and we can only pray that we’ll end up in the same one.”
“Maybe Oren can help arrange that,” I say, as I stare at a plain white wall, feeling my heart break. Klara and Oskar are the only family, besides Meir, that I know I have left in this world. I worry I’ll be lost without them. They may not be my blood relatives, but over the years, we’ve become a close-knit family.
“Have you had any word on the children?”
They both shake their heads, defeat written in the fine lines on their faces.
“We’ve come to say goodbye,” Oskar says, standing. “They haven’t given us much time.”
“You mean you have to go now?”
Klara tucks me against her chest and kisses the top of my head. “Sweet Estherly. You’re in good hands. You’re going to be fine. You’re going to get your strength back, and then we’ll find each other once more.”
Summoning courage, I squeeze Klara back, break our hug, stand, and take Oskar into my arms. “Thank you,” I whisper. “Thank you for always watching out for me.”
I pull away from Oskar, and Oren stands close by. Seeing him eases some of my sorrows.
“I don’t mean to interrupt,” Oren says.
“We’re here to say goodbye to Estherly,” Klara says. She takes Oren’s hand into hers and shakes it. “Thank you for taking such good care of her.”
“Are you both headed to the camp?” Oren asks.
They nod.
“Will you know where they’ll be?” I ask, looking at Oren.
“Yes. Once you’re strong enough, I can take you to visit them,” Oren says, taking away some of my worry.
“That would be wonderful,” Oskar says. “Klara, they only gave us ten minutes. We better get going.”
They embrace me as we say goodbye. Feeling woozy, I pull myself away from them and sit back on the bed. Oren moves close to me as I wave and watch Klara and Oskar walk away. My breath hitches in my throat, but I find the strength not to cry.
He takes the spot where Klara sat next to me and pats my back. “You will see them again, I promise,” he says. “I will make sure of it. The camp isn’t that far from here. It shouldn’t be hard to get a Jeep and drive you there to see them, once you have more strength. Speaking of strength, are you ready for your walk?”
“I guess I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.”
“Let’s have a look at your foot first,” Oren says.
I scoot back and roll onto my hip, lifting my leg. He takes my left foot into his hand, rubbing the top of it with his thumb. The act is simple yet conveys so many emotions at the same time. His touch is gentle, and I admire the way he cares for me.
“It’s healing very well. Does it hurt when I push on it?” he asks and gives it a squeeze.
I shake my head. “Not at all.”
“Then, I think we’re ready. Do you think we can make it outside today?”
I slip on my shoes. “I’d like to try. You said if I make it outside, you’d take me to the Kubises.”
Oren stands and puts his arm in mine, helping me off the bed. The first steps are easy, and I think today will be the day that I’ll push through and make it outside to see the sunshine again. Walking together, we stay quiet until we are halfway down the hall.
“How are you doing? Do you need to turn back?”
“Nope, I’m fine. Let’s keep going. I can do this,” I say, determined to make it.
“Would you like to practice some English?”
I nod. “What will you teach me today?”
“Let’s work on saying ‘hello’ and your name. Repeat after me. ‘Hello. My name is Estherly Krauss.’”
My accent comes out thick, but I’m able to say the words. As we walk, I speak them over and over until bright sunlight on the floor nears the tips of my toes.
Oren switches back to speaking German. “A few more steps and you’ll be outdoors for the first time in three weeks. Do you still feel like you can make it?”
“I know I can make it. In fact,” I say, stepping through the doorway, “I would like to try walking to that tree across the courtyard.” I see a bench and know that even with my shortness of breath, I can do this.
“If you can make it to that bench, I will take you to the Kubises tomorrow.”
The words echo in my ears. If I could run, I would. Step by step, the bench gets closer.
Remember the Stars Page 21
