“Yes, I know what you mean. Do you remember Mr. Zeitlman, the shoemaker? He was so mean. He would yell at us as we walked home from school, “Stay off of the grass! Stay off! You and you…and you!” Remember? All the boys used to run over the small patch of grass outside his shop just to irritate him.”
She laughed aloud. “I do remember him. He was an old grouch. Were you one of the boys who tormented him?”
“But of course. He set himself up for it. Every time we walked by, just walked by the front of his shop, he’d call out in that booming voice of his. “’Remember…the grass!’ So of course, we would remember. We would remember to walk on his grass,” he laughed.
“How about Mrs. Applebaum? Remember her? She could have been a news reporter. Every time I saw her, she would say, “So, Zofia, what have you got to tell me?” I’d cringe. That woman made it her business to know everybody and everything about them.”
“Yes, crazy old Mrs. Applebaum. What a gossip. She would come to the bakery and I’d hear my mother groan. Then mom would say, ’Oy vey here comes Mrs. Applebaum.’” he laughed. “She’d come in and stay for at least a half hour, questioning every customer who came in to buy. ‘So, what’s new?’ she would say…and everyone knew she was just prying into their lives, looking for something interesting.” he said, shaking his head.
“It’s a little painful to remember, but it is also kind of wonderful. I suppose that’s because I have you to reminisce with. What a blessing to have found you again, Isaac. We share so much because we were raised in the same little town, and we remember all the same people. It’s almost as if we can make believe that everyone is still alive somewhere and we are only away on a holiday. Sort of like when we return everything will be normal…as it once was, before Hitler,” she said.
“I like to think that way. Even though it is impossible that nothing has changed. We know it has, but it is good to remember. If we forget people, then they will really die. As long as we keep memories alive, then they live in our memories,” he said. “
“Yes, you’re right. A rabbi told me that when I attended a funeral years ago.”
“It’s true. But we must not dwell on the sadness. Instead, we should remember the good times and the funny things that happened. That way the good memories are the ones that stay alive. Once this war is over you, and I will start over. We’ll pick up the pieces of our lives, and know we are blessed by God because we have survived and we have each other.” He smoothed her hair then continued to speak, “If you’ll have me I would like to get married, and then bring Eidel home to live with us. Together we’ll rebuild.”
“Have you ever thought about leaving Europe?” she asked
“I’ve never given it much thought. Where would we go?”
“To Palestine.”
“Of course, someday Palestine will be a Jewish state… Isn’t that the dream of every Jew?” He ran his hand over his chin. “Palestine. A land of our own. Can you imagine? A place where Jews can live in safety. Do you think it’s possible? Do you think it could ever come true?” He looked over into her eyes. The sun had begun to move and it was shining brightly into her eyes. She squinted up at him. “I do. I believe that the day will come when we have a land of our own.”
He nodded, squeezing her shoulder.
“Yes, yes…if you were with me…I would go to Palestine.” he said.
She reached up and smoothed his wild curls. “Isaac, I will be with you.”
“Then you will marry me?”
“Of course I will marry you,” She smiled
“I love you, Zofia.”
“I love you too, very much,” she said, her voice choking with emotion
He leaned down and kissed her. Her entire being swelled with joy.
How can I be blessed to have such happiness when there are so many others suffering? But even guilt could not quell the bliss she felt in her heart.
Chapter 63
As winter loosened her grasp and the forest began to come alive with the spring, food became more plentiful. Isaac hunted, returning with rabbits, or squirrels. The women gathered edible greens to stew over low fires. The dreaded winter had passed.
The mood Zofia and Isaac spread through the cabin was one of pure happiness. Nothing could stop the constant flow of romantic electricity.
“Here, taste this. It’s a raspberry.” Isaac put a small hard green ball into Zofia’s mouth.
“It’s bitter. It’s not ripe,” she laughed.
“Not yet, but guess what? I’ve found a bush, and it’s filled with fruit. Soon I can feed you raspberries as sweet as the sugar in my mom’s bakery.”
She giggled.
“But of course, not as sweet as your smile,” he said, touching the side of her face.
Their eyes met and she felt the current run through her body. Zofia had never been in love before. What she’d had with the teacher was little more than an adolescent crush. Dovid was a nice man, but her feelings for him were brought on by a need to a fill a mutual loneliness. Never had she felt like this before. Isaac made her laugh and cry, and bless everyone and everything on this earth, all at once. Yes, she knew that she was stuck in a cabin deep in the woods, with limited food and resources for survival. Yes, she’d almost frozen to death this past winter. Yes, she’d lost her friends and family, and she missed them terribly. Yes, she had a daughter somewhere out in the world whom she longed to see. Yes, there was a little German girl whose well-being she worried about. And, yes, she should have been miserable. But she’d never been happier in her life.
Ben and Moishe were annoyed.
“You walk around here like you’re on some sort of a honeymoon. Quite frankly, it’s getting on my nerves,” Ben said.
Zofia looked over at the others and realized that perhaps their suffering was made worse by her joy.
“We could walk around here like the walking dead, but why? We are the lucky ones, all of us. We are alive,” Isaac said.
Sarah sunk down against the wall and sat on the floor. Zofia saw the look in her eyes and was saddened.
“I’m alone. I have no one left. I saw my parents murdered, shot, right in front of my eyes. So what is there to be happy about? I am lucky you say? Ha!” Sarah said
“And I’ve been beaten to less than a man. I couldn’t even defend my wife and two children. I watched as a guard forced them away into a line to a gas chamber. And what did I do? I stood there. I was too afraid to do anything. Now I am overcome with self-hatred,” Ben said, the words like venom came spitting out of his mouth.
“I was forced to bury my mother. I saw them shoot her and they made me dig the hole,” Moishe said, his eyes cold, like glass.
“Stop this. Does it do you any good to wallow in self pity?” Isaac said. “We have all lost someone; we have all lost a great deal. I don’t know where my family is. I don’t know if I will ever see them again. For all I know, they are all dead, and chances are they are dead. Now, I have only their memories to keep close to my heart.” He looked around at them, scanning the room, meeting each person’s eyes before he continued. “But we are alive…we have a chance for a future, a chance to rebuild and start again. If you want to honor those you loved and lost, honor them by honoring God’s greatest gift: life.”
“Easy for you to say, Isaac, you’ve found someone. You’ve managed to fall in love in the worst possible conditions. My hat is off to you. But for me, it is just another day, filled with pain and memories,” Shlomie said, and he got up and walked outside. The others followed leaving Zofia and Isaac alone in the cabin.
“Isaac” Zofia said, “It makes me sad to see what has become of all of us.”
“Yes, it does. But Zofia, I cannot be sad when I look at you, and I know that God has blessed me.”
She felt the tears forming in her eyes. He took her in his arms and for several minutes, they were lost in the warmth of each other’s embrace.
Chapter 64
The Nazis watched in horror as the Allies came
crashing in on them from both the east and the west, their dreams of a thousand-year Reich bursting into flames right before their eyes as the bombs fell upon Berlin. Hitler’s pride kept him from admitting that he’d made a fatal error by invading Russia while the country was embroiled in a war with the British. But Manfred knew. He could see the writing on the wall. It was only a matter of time before Stalin came marching into his beloved country with a vengeance. The previous summer the Allies had landed on the shore of Normandy. Manfred sat in his office, glued to the radio listening to the updates on the bloody battle. Germany had given it their all, but they were war weary. And, the Allies just kept coming. America had joined with Great Brittan, giving the SS officers even further cause for concern. Although they risked accusations of treason, many privately admitted to each other that they had lost faith in their great Fuehrer. On the Russian Front, the soldiers starved and froze to death all winter at an alarming rate. Hitler had been so confident that Germany would take Russia as quickly as it had taken Poland that he sent his army east unequipped, with sufficient food or warm clothing to face the devastating cold of the Russian winter.
In March of 1945, Goebbels telephoned Manfred at his home.
“The time has come, Manfred. Would you like me to make arrangements with the surgeon?”
“Yes.”
“Then you will be going south, with the rest of our friends?” Goebbels chose his words carefully revealing as little as possible over the phone lines.
“Yes.”
“I will discuss the matter with the correct parties and get back to you as to the date of your appointment.”
“I’ll wait to hear. May I talk to my wife?”
“Yes, but explain that she must not discuss this with anyone else.”
“Yes, Dr. Goebbels.”
“I will be in touch, Manfred.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“Heil Hitler.”
“Heil Hitler.”
Chapter 65
Christa lay upon her mattress, her skin white, and thin as parchment paper against the cornflower blue of her lips and eyelids. Manfred’s heart felt as if it were ripping apart as he looked at her, Katja’s head resting on her stomach. Christa was dying.
The mother and daughter had fallen asleep together as Christa read to Katja from her book of fairy tales. The book had fallen to the floor. Manfred picked it up and held it to his chest for a moment. Everything had gone so wrong, so terribly wrong. Tears welled in his eyes. Soon, the face he’d lived with all of his life would be gone, replaced by one that he had grown to hate, the face of a Jew. His hair would be dyed black, a big hooknose would beckon like a crooked finger, and frightening deep-set eyes would look back at him from the mirror, reminding him of the innocent lives he’d taken in the camps. His papers would reflect the name of a Jewish refugee. He would dress, act, and speak like a Jew. And to everyone who was not an elite member of the Party, he would be a Jew. The plan was brilliant, but nauseating, too. Once the war ended, there would be displaced Jews everywhere. It would be easy to pose as one of them and to leave Germany, but the price, ahhh, the price. Now, he would wear a face he’d come to hate, and all of his power would be gone. Yet, Hitler had said that he must do this for the Fatherland. So, he must. Because of what he’d witnessed with his Nazi brothers, there was a spark of distrust. Were they possibly planning to murder all the lower-ranking officers, to keep their secrets hidden? Manfred would not put it past them. He noticed that Goebbels, Himmler, Göring, Eichmann, or Mengele had not been scheduled for the surgery. Only the lesser officers had been registered for the procedure. Perhaps he would never awaken from the anesthesia. The thought was both frightening and comforting. There was no doubt in his mind that the Allies would punish the Nazis for what they had done. How could they begin to understand, to see the bigger picture, a Germany ruled by a superior race? No, they would not see the big picture, the goal. Instead all they would see were the piles of bodies and the ovens. They would see the gas chambers, and they would condemn the Third Reich forever. The secrets of what had been taking place in Germany would circulate throughout the world. He felt a shiver run up his spine. If he were not killed by the operation, then he might be caught by the Allies, which would most assuredly be worse. How did it feel to die? He’d witnessed so much death, yet he’d always pushed the questions from his mind. Would it be painful? Afterwards, what would happen? Was there simply nothingness? Or was there a God? And if so, how would that God feel about what he’d done?
Manfred felt clammy as he watched the Jewess prepare the evening meal. She stood in the kitchen, across the hall from Christa’s room. He had no desire for her. She was not as pretty as the one they’d had working for them at Treblinka, Zofia. Now that one was very attractive, in that Jewish, evil sort of way. But he had no desire for any woman right now. In fact, he doubted that his male apparatus would work properly. The smell of the food wafting through the air sickened him. Soon he must talk to Christa, explain everything. He glanced back at her lying, asleep on the bed. If they were both to die, who would take the child? Did it matter? Did he even care for the little girl? Not really. That had never turned out the way that he’d thought it might. Once things went bad, it had never been the same as having his own flesh and blood child. The child was just a child living in his home; he could not find it in his heart to love her.
Christa stirred under his stare. Her eyes opened slowly. He was stunned, even now, by her delicate beauty.
“Manfred, what is it?”
“I must speak with you.”
“Of course, sit down,” she said as she moved her feet, making room at the end of the bed. The soft in and out of the child’s breathing lent a quiet rhythm to the semi-darkened room as Manfred explained Hitler’s plan.
Chapter 66
Zofia had not seen her menstrual blood for two months. She had been pregnant before, and she recognized the symptoms. It was hard to be unhappy, even though she knew that she should be. Without a home to bring the child to, without any guarantee of a future, she should be miserable, but instead she was filled with purpose, light, and joy. A new life had formed within her. It was tiny right now, her tiny secret. A part of her and Isaac, a reflection of the love they shared. A gift from God, even in the darkest hour, here in the middle of the forest with the Allies coming from both sides, a small flicker of light had been ignited in her womb: a child, a dear life. As Isaac slept on the floor in the cabin, she gazed at him and smiled. For the first time in her life, she knew what it meant to love another human being. It was the most rewarding, wonderful feeling imaginable. Nothing she’d ever known before could compare to the sheer bliss of it. When the war ended, they would be married. The child that grew within her body would be a brother or sister to her precious Eidel. Even though she’d been through hell, she’d found heaven, and Zofia felt truly blessed. Her only concern was food, having enough food to ensure the baby would be healthy. This worried her. When she was pregnant with Eidel, she’d had meat and milk. Not a lot, but enough. Now she could never be sure of the food supply. Still, even with all the challenges, she could not help but smile. She carried, Isaac’s child. The seed of the man she loved. Her hand caressed her belly.
“Oh, little one, with God’s help you will be born into a world without Nazis. Your father and I will take you to Palestine, a land of our own, a land where you can be proud to be a Jew.”
Isaac walked over and leaned down to kiss the top of Zofia’s head.
“Who are you talking to?” he asked
“No one, just myself.”
“So, this living in the forest has finally driven you mad?”
She laughed.
“Isaac?”
“Yes, love?”
“I’m going to have a baby.”
He gasped. Then a big smile came over his face, and even though his eyes were filled with worry, he couldn’t help but smile with joy.
“Zofia…” He was choked with emotion
His ha
nd caressed her face. “I wish we could marry, here, now, under the sky.”
“Me too. But we are married, Isaac. We’re married in the eyes of God. God knows how much we love each other.”
“Yes, I believe he does.”
She saw tears run down his cheeks, and she was moved by the sight of this strong man, whom she’d come to love, made soft by his emotions.
“My wife,” he whispered, then caressed her belly “My child. I will do whatever must be done to protect you both. I will make sure you are taken care of, no matter what it takes…”
“I know that, Isaac. I’ve always known it,” Zofia said.
Chapter 67
Ben and Moishe had gone out to gather un-ripened fruit that had just blossomed on the nearby farmer’s apple tree. They returned in less than an hour with a man. Beaten and bleeding he still wore the stripped uniform of the concentration camp. They brought him back to the cabin. The yellow star on his armband told them that he was a Jew.
The man’s bald head was covered in bloody bruises. The bones jutted out of his face, and his eyes were clearly frightened. His body shivered, although the weather was warm.
“He’s lost a lot of blood,” Moishe said.
Zofia looked at the hole torn into the man’s shirt.
“He’s been shot,” Isaac said, and rushed over to help.
The man trembled and pulled away.
“It’s all right,” Isaac whispered, his voice soft, gentle, kind. “We are Jews, too. I am not going to hurt you.”
The man’s eyes were black pools of fear and pain. He stared at Isaac but he didn’t move. He allowed Isaac to open his shirt.
“It’s not a gunshot. I was wrong. He’s been stabbed,” Isaac said his mouth twisted. “Zofia, would you please get me some water? I’ll also need some rags.”
Zofia got up, and without speaking she took the bucket to the pond and filled it. When she returned, Isaac began cleaning the wound. From where Zofia stood across the room, she could see that thick dark blood still oozed from the opening.
You Are My Sunshine: A Novel Of The Holocaust (All My Love Detrick Book 2) Page 30
