by Kelli Stuart
Moments later, I come to the crest of a hill, and look down in the valley below to see a beautiful white house nestled in the trees. This must be Greta’s home. It is just as she described it.
The house is pristine, the entire perimeter surrounded by vibrant flowers of every color imaginable. The rolling meadows that provide the backdrop are bright green, and I feel as though I’ve stepped into a painting. I pause to slow my breathing when I see her round the corner. I rush down the hill toward my friend. Greta hears my sobs and turns toward me. She races forward to meet me, grabbing my shoulders.
“What’s the matter, Maria?” she asks, her face laced with concern.
“I think Helena is going to kill me,” I gasp. “I have to get away. Please, Greta. Please help me.”
Greta nods and pulls me by the elbow toward the house. “Come inside,” she commands, her voice laced with authority. Greta closes the doors behind us, and turns to face me. “I’ve been thinking,” she begins as she moves from window to window throughout the house, pulling the panes down and drawing the curtains until we stand in cool darkness.
“I think I know of a way to keep you safe, but it’s going to require that you go away. Right now.”
“Go away where?” I ask. I draw in long, deep breaths, willing myself to stay calm.
“My father has a friend, Gerhard Mueller,” Greta begins. “He and his wife, Lisolette, used to live close by, but they moved a year ago. It was a difficult time.” Greta pauses, wringing her hands as the memory moves past. She shakes her head and presses on. “I know that Herr Mueller would take you in without any questions. He and his wife are good people.”
“But … where do they live?” I ask.
“I can lead you to the train station and get you on a train to their town. It’s a three-hour train ride from here. They own and operate a shop. You could work there as an employee. No one would ever have to know where you were from.” Greta stops, her eyes filling with tears.
“Oh my friend,” she says, rushing forward. She pulls me into a tight hug. “I don’t want you to go, but I think this is the only way. You can’t stay here, because if Nazis find my family …”
I pull back as Greta’s voice fades. Her eyes are downcast, her chin trembling. “What will happen if they come here, Greta?” I ask.
Greta sighs. “My mother is Jewish, Masha, and my father is Christian,” she says softly. “I’m half Jewish. If the Nazis find us, they’ll kill us all.”
My hands go icy cold as I step back. “I’ve put you in danger,” I whisper. Greta shakes her head.
“No, you haven’t,” she replies. “You are a gift to me from God. I just know that it’s Him who brought us together. You’ve helped me through my loneliness, and now it’s my turn to help you. If there was any way for us to keep you here, I know that we would. But my mother would be terrified, and my mother is not a strong person.”
I nod, puzzled by her curious talk of God, then reach down to grab my bag, pulling it up slowly. “We should go then,” I say. “Before they return. What do I say to Herr Mueller when I arrive?”
“Tell him that Henry, Lizbet, and Greta sent you. Tell him we said he could give you a job and a place to live. I know he’ll accept you.”
Greta grabs my hand and squeezes it tight. “I wish things didn’t have to change,” she says, choking on her words. I squeeze her hand back.
“I’ll be okay,” I answer. She nods. Then her eyes light. “Oh my!” she cries. “Wait here!” She races up the stairs, and I listen to the sound of her shoes pounding across the hollow wooden floors. Minutes later she returns with the dress she gave me for my birthday.
“Quick, put this on!” she commands. “We’ll fix your hair, and get you cleaned up. You can’t attract any attention as you travel.”
Minutes later, Greta and I leave the house and run around back where an old, beat-up truck stands on the gravel driveway. Greta leaps into the driver side as I slide into the passenger side. She puts a key in the ignition and the truck shakes and sputters to life.
“Do you know how to drive this?” I ask.
“Papa taught me,” Greta replies with a small smile. “Mother hated that he took me driving. She thought it was improper for a young girl, but Papa felt I should know.” She tosses me a sly glance out of the corner of her eye. “It’s a bit of an adventure, isn’t it?” she asks.
I sit back and close my eyes. I would be happy if life were less adventurous.
LUDA MICHAELEVNA
June 18, 1943
I bolt upright in bed, my heart beating wildly. What did I hear? I glance down at the pallet on the floor where Sasha sleeps, his chubby legs hanging off the blanket and resting on the hard wood. I reach down and readjust him so that he’s fully on the bed.
He’s nearly one and a true delight. His hair is thick and blond, hanging over his ears in tight ringlets that I cannot bear to cut. His cheeks are round and pink, and his arms and legs unfold in a series of rolls. I run my hand over his soft head and offer up yet another whispered plea for his safety.
I jump at the sound of a rap on the door. That’s what I heard that stirred me from sleep. The knock is sharp and urgent. I jump out of bed and pull my robe on over my long nightgown. Katya sits up on her bed.
“What is it?” she hisses.
“Someone’s at the door,” I whisper back. She jumps up. We tiptoe out of the room as quickly as we can and step into the hallway. Baba Mysa is there with her hand clutching tight at the top of her nightgown. Oleg stands beside her, his thin face shadowed in the soft darkness of nighttime.
Since returning from his captivity, Oleg has remained quiet and contemplative. When he discovered my relationship with Hans, he withdrew from me almost completely. I fear that the trauma of losing my love to a German man has been much greater on his soul than the trauma of being held captive.
Alexei stands at the door and presses his ear tight against it. “Kto tam?” he says, mouth held close against the hard wood.
“It is I—Hans,” comes the reply. I rush forward toward the door as Alexei pulls it open.
“Hans!” I cry. Hans puts his finger to his lips and gestures for Alexei to close the door. His eyes are wild, and his hands shake with a fearful tremble.
“I cannot stay long,” he whispers. “Can we go into the other room?” he asks Alexei. We all follow the two men into the sitting room.
“Please,” Hans says to Baba Mysa as she reaches for the lamp. “Leave the lights off. We must be quiet.”
“Hans, you’re scaring me,” I whisper. “What’s the matter?”
Hans sighs and runs his hand through his hair. “I don’t know where to begin,” he says. I hear the pain in his voice despite his whispers. It leaves me chilled.
“Just tell us what’s going on,” Alexei says. He’s gentle, but firm. None of us have the patience to drag this conversation out.
Hans nods. “Shortly before we freed Oleg several months ago, I began working closely with a comrade and one of our leaders to assassinate Hitler.”
I gasp, and Baba Mysa puts her arm around my shoulders, pulling me into her.
“We had a plan set to kill him shortly after he left Vervolfy in early March. The hope was to carry out this plan before they killed all of the prisoners, but we were too late.” Hans looks at Oleg who returns the gaze evenly. “When Hitler left camp, the idea was to smuggle a bomb onto his plane that would detonate about thirty minutes after takeoff, but something went wrong and the bomb malfunctioned. Our plan failed.”
Alexei nods his head. “Given that Hitler is still very much alive, I think we all understand that it failed. But what’s happened since then?”
“My comrades and I have continued to develop ideas and think of ways we can take Hitler out of his position of power. He’s destroying Germany. We must stop him.”
“He’s doing more than simply destroying your beloved country,” Oleg spits out in anger, and Alexei turns with a sharp look.
“Ol
eg,” he hisses, “now is not the time, Son.” Oleg crosses his arms in defiance, his gaze still hot and angry.
“Why are you here tonight, Hans?” Alexei asks.
“I’ve raised suspicion, and I’m being watched very, very closely. I didn’t realize they suspected my treason until this evening when one of the men I worked with on the assassination plot was summoned to our local headquarters and told he was being sent back to Berlin to face trial. I imagine it will only be a matter of time before the same happens to me.”
Hans looks at me closely, his eyes welling up with tears. “If they question my comrade, as I suspect they will, then I fear that puts you, my darling, in grave danger. He knew about my relationship with you.” Hans steps forward and grabs my hands, squeezing them tightly. “It’s only a matter of time before they come for you, Luda.”
“What do we do?” I ask him, ignoring Baba’s indignant huff behind me.
Hans sighs and looks down at me. “We need to get you out of the country.”
The room explodes in a barrage of shocked gasps and frantic whispers. Katya cries while Oleg unloads his anger at Hans. Baba Mysa pulls me back to her again and whispers frantic words of prayer and fear as she runs her hands through my hair. Only Alexei and I remain silent, our eyes locked on one another. He raises his eyebrows, and I give a slight nod.
Alexei holds up his hand, and everyone falls silent.
“But what does sending Luda away do for the rest of us? If the Nazis come looking for her, they’ll find us, which leads me to believe that we’re all in grave danger.”
Hans nods. “You’re right. This is why I want the rest of you to go to the safe house for a time. Take only the few things that you absolutely need, but leave everything else behind. If they come to your flat, it must not look as though you’ve moved out.”
“But Hans, I don’t understand.” My eyes shift from his face to the others. Everyone looks at me gravely, their eyes sad and frightened. Even Oleg’s face is erased of all anger and is left full of pity.
“What, my darling?” Hans asks, turning to face me.
“Why can’t I just go to the safe house with them? Why can’t we all hide there together?”
“Because, Luda,” Hans says gently, pushing my hair away from my face and tucking it behind my ear. “You’re too easy to find. Your name, your description, your baby. They will know it all soon. And if they capture you, they’ll torture you as a means of getting to me. I cannot bear that.”
My blood runs cold, and my hands shake as I back away from him. “Why did you do this?” I ask, my words barely audible. Hans furrows his brow and looks at me quizzically.
“I don’t understand, dorogaya,” he says. He takes a step toward me, but I hold up my hand in protest.
“Why did you take this risk? Why did you try to kill that man?”
Hans sighs, his shoulders slumping forward. “I told you before we freed Oleg that I was going to do this,” he replies. Baba Mysa gasps in surprise.
“Luda!” she says. “Why did you not say something to us?”
“I didn’t think he would really do such a foolish thing,” I reply without looking at her. My eyes remain firm and fixed on Hans’s face. The room remains still for a long time before Alexei breaks the silence.
“Hans, we need to discuss this more,” Alexei says. Hans whirls around to face him.
“There’s nothing to discuss,” he hisses. “Don’t you understand? They’ll kill Sasha without even blinking an eye. And then they’ll slowly and painfully torture Luda. There is no alternative but to get her out.”
“But how are we to do that?” Alexei asks, his voice soft and calm. “And where is she to go when she leaves?”
Hans looks at me with remorse. “Get her to the border, just outside of Lvov. I’ll have a contact there waiting for her and the baby. He’ll get her to Germany safely, where my sister will be waiting to retrieve her.”
“But is it really safer for Luda and Sasha to travel to Germany alone? It seems to me that puts her in more danger,” Alexei says. I hear the strain in his words as he fights for composure.
“Believe me, Alexei, I’ve considered all the options. This plan has the lowest risk. But I will need the help of your partisan friends to get her safely to Lvov. And it needs to happen quickly. My contact will be waiting for her on Thursday.”
“But that’s in three days!” Katya cries, and she rushes to me. “Oh Luda, please don’t go,” she begs. “Please. I don’t want to lose you, Luda. Please.” I look at Hans. His eyes are wide and full of frustration, shame, and despair.
“Come back tomorrow night,” I say softly, wrapping my arm around Katya. “I’ll tell you my plans then.”
Hans nods and takes a step toward me, but I shake my head. He sighs and turns to Alexei and Baba Mysa, who now cling to one another.
“I’m sorry,” he says, his voice cracking. “I never wanted to bring more difficulty to you. All I’ve ever hoped to do is help.”
Alexei nods but Baba Mysa simply purses her lips and looks away. Hans moves toward the door with a slight nod of his head, and in a quick moment, he’s gone.
We all stand silently in the room for a long while before Alexei finally speaks up. “We should go to bed,” he says. “We have a long day tomorrow.”
Katya and I trudge to the room that we share with my son. She clutches my hand as we make our way toward our beds. Just before I lie down, she turns to me. It’s so dark in the room that I can barely make out her silhouette.
“Luda,” she breathes. “I just want you to know how sorry I am for all the time I spent being angry and jealous. You’re my sister. I love you.” She drops my hand and walks quickly to her bed on the floor. I listen to her cry for a long time before we both finally doze off.
Sasha wakes early, and I let him crawl on me for a long time before dragging my weary body from the bed. I carry him into the kitchen where Baba Mysa has laid out a spread of bread and cheese for all of us to eat. I sit down with Sasha on my lap, and tear a piece of bread into small pieces, which he immediately shoves into his hungry, waiting mouth.
Alexei walks in and pours himself a steaming mug of hot chai. “Would you like some?” he asks. I nod yes.
He hands me my mug and sits down next to me. Leaning forward, he places his elbows on the table and makes kissy noises at Sasha, who giggles in delight, drool dripping off his chubby chin. Alexei grabs Sasha’s hand and runs his thumb across the back of it. I watch, and my eyes fill with tears.
“I think I need to go,” I say. Alexei is silent. Tears gather in his eyes as he continues to rub Sasha’s soft hand.
I hand Sasha another bite of bread. Reaching over, I grab Alexei’s hand and squeeze it firmly. “I love you, Alexei,” I say, my voice cracking. Alexei pulls me to him, his hand warm and firm on the back of my head. Sasha squirms between us.
“You don’t have to go, Luda,” he says softly. “You can stay here. We’ll figure out how to hide you.”
Taking in a deep breath, I tip my head back and look up at his face—this man who has become a father to me in every way possible. He looks into my eyes, and with that one glance I know he understands. I won’t have to defend my decision to him.
“I think I do need to go, Alexei,” I say quietly. “I need to go for the safety of my son and for the safety of you and Baba Mysa, and Oleg and Katya. You’re my family. I can’t put you in danger by staying near.”
Alexei narrows his eyes. “It’s more than that, though, isn’t it?” he asks.
I nod. “Yes. I need to go and live with Hans’s family. I need to establish my home there so that he can come home to me. He’s my family, too, Alexei. Despite all that’s happened and the foolish choice he made, I still love him. I need to go so that someday, if we’re lucky enough to make it out of this wretched time alive, we can build our own family.”
“And if something happens to Hans?” Alexei asks.
“Then I’ll hope and pray to be reunited with you al
l again when the time comes,” I reply, a fresh set of tears pricking my eyes.
Alexei smiles and leans forward to kiss my forehead. “My darling, we will pray that prayer no matter what happens. You are as much a daughter to me as my other two children. Sending you away like this is not my preference, but I’ll do everything in my power to see that you get to where you need to go safely. Just know that you will carry with you a piece of my heart when you leave.”
“I love you, Alexei,” I whisper again.
“I love you, my brave little daughter,” Alexei whispers.
By the end of the evening, most of the plans are set. Alexei spends the afternoon meeting with the men in his partisan group, all of whom are connected with contacts across the country. Alexei’s friend, Valeri, joins Baba Mysa in glaring and mumbling under his breath as they solidify each step of the journey.
“It’s too dangerous,” Valeri says repeatedly, and every time he does, Baba Mysa throws her hands up and mutters something under her breath about no one ever listening to her.
“You’re better than the best in these types of operations, my friend,” Alexei replies after Valeri’s latest outburst. “If anyone can help us pull this off and get Luda safely to the border, it’s you.”
Valeri crosses his arms in a huff and nods his head reluctantly while I sit in the corner, a knot in my stomach. Katya sits next to me, her hand grasping mine. Baba Mysa spends the day cuddling and cooing at Sasha, and my heart tears each time I watch her with him. I’m smart enough to know that Sasha and I will probably never see her again, and I’m overwhelmed with a sense of dread and guilt for the pain my leaving will cause.
Oleg paces the room all day. He’s frightened and angry. At one point our eyes meet, and I remember his longing to love me. I think of his offer to take care of me and the baby and wish briefly that I could have returned his love. How much simpler this all would be if only … but no.
