The Brushmaker's Daughter

by Kathy Kacer

  “Do you miss the work that you used to do?” I asked.

  “Very much,” Anneliese replied. “It was not only something I did for money, it was something I loved doing. It was my profession and my pastime.”

  Anneliese shook her head a third time. “I took a dress of mine that I couldn’t wear any longer, and I sewed it into something that I think would be lovely for you.”

  She handed me a small package wrapped in brown paper and tied with string. I unwrapped it and pulled out a dress, holding it up to the light. It was the deepest shade of green with slim gold threads woven into the fabric, with matching gold buttons. They caught the light and sparkled. I pulled the dress close to me, speechless.

  “It’s not brand new,” Anneliese explained. “But I wore the dress only once. And since I’ve redesigned and resized it for you, it’s practically new. I hope you can wear it now. Every young girl should have a new dress from time to time, don’t you think?”

  I hadn’t had a new dress in so long, not since Papa had brought one home for me after Mama died. I knew Papa couldn’t see it, or me in it. And I didn’t have the heart to tell him that the dress hung past my knees, and the sleeves draped below my wrists. “It’s perfect, Papa,” I had said as he beamed. This one looked as if it would fit me just right.

  I blinked rapidly and looked over at Anneliese. “It’s beautiful,” I whispered, finding my voice. “Thank you!”

  Anneliese looked away, shyly. “Good, good. Well, I just wanted you to have that.” She was blinking and rubbing her eyes. “Okay, then, back to work.”

  With that, she moved on, leaving me standing there, still holding the dress in my hands. As I returned to my work, I marveled at our little community of Jews in Herr Weidt’s factory. We were all on the run for our lives. We were all living in dangerous times. We were all uncertain of our future. And still, we could care for one another and be generous and kind.

  Chapter 12

  I wore the dress the very next day. And when I passed Anneliese at her workstation, she looked up. Her eyes lit up, and a huge smile spread across her face. It was as if I had given her a gift and not the other way around!

  “It fits me perfectly,” I said as I twirled in a circle, letting the golden threads catch the light. “You haven’t lost your touch.”

  Anneliese reached out to grab my hand. “That’s the nicest thing anyone could say to me.”

  I returned to my spot and began to pack up the orders for that day. Papa was working close to me. I marveled at how quick he had become in making his brushes, as if he had been born doing this work.

  He looked up from his table, sensing that I had been watching him. “Would you like to give it a try?” he asked.

  It was exactly what I had been wanting to do. I moved over next to Papa and took handfuls of bristles, pressing them together as firmly as I could. Papa reached over to run his fingers lightly over the bundle that I held in my hands.

  “No, Lillian,” he said, shaking his head from side to side and pursing his lips. “You’re going to have to twist those bristles much more tightly. Otherwise, the brush will be too soft and it’ll fall apart before you know it. We can’t have that happening.” He took the horsehair from my hand and, with a quick twist of his wrist, bundled the fibers into a tight bale. “There, that’s much better, isn’t it?”

  “I don’t know how you can do that,” I said, examining the tightly bound roll of bristles.

  Papa smiled. “It’s what I’ve always told you,” he said. “Some people think being blind is an obstacle. I think…”

  “I know,” I interrupted. “You think it’s an opportunity to learn new things.” I echoed the message that my father had been telling me for years.

  “That’s exactly right,” he said, grinning at me.

  I was just about to leave the brushmaking to my father and return to my packaging, when suddenly the bell above the door began to ring, jingling and echoing through the factory room with a persistent and relentless refrain, like the chorus of one of Hetti’s operas, but much more sinister.

  Everyone stopped working immediately. Silence fell on the factory floor as if night had suddenly fallen on the city.

  Like everyone else, I froze, my feet glued to the floor, my hands held mid-air as I was about to pack a new box of brushes. It was the warning bell. The Nazis were here!

  It was Anneliese who spoke first, calling out urgently, “Everyone, to the back. I’ll lead the way.”

  The workers left their posts and walked to the back of the factory and to the wardrobe that concealed the hiding room.

  I turned to Papa. “Take my arm,” I said forcefully. “We have to move quickly!”

  Papa grabbed my arm and I led him to the back. All the while, Anneliese’s voice rose above the sound of footsteps shuffling across the factory floor. “Move as fast as you can,” she called out. “Try not to push.”

  Papa and I were at the back of the group. Up ahead, there was a snarl of factory workers trying to get through the wardrobe door. I glanced over my shoulder. How long did we have? The soldiers would appear any moment. They would burst through the door and we would be doomed. My heart raced, my brain felt as if it was on fire, and panic washed over me in waves.

  “One at a time. Hand on the shoulder of the person in front of you,” Anneliese ordered with the voice of someone in charge. She had clearly done this before and knew what the blind workers had to do to find their way to the room behind the wardrobe. But the progress was slow and the line stalled.

  “Why aren’t we moving?” Papa asked, gripping my arm.

  “We’re just waiting for the others to get through.” Though I was trying desperately to stop trembling, my voice shook. I didn’t want Papa to hear how scared I was.

  I was sure I could hear footsteps on the stairs. I squeezed my eyes shut, and then opened them. Please move, I thought desperately.

  Suddenly, the path seemed to clear as the workers ahead of us passed through the hidden compartment. Papa and I were finally close to the opening. But just as we were about to step toward the door, Papa suddenly caught his foot on a loose floorboard and tumbled down with a loud thud.

  “Ahhh!” he yelled.

  “Papa!” I reached down to grab him under his arms, terrified that he might be badly hurt, and equally terrified that we would be found by the Nazis like this. “Get up!” My voice was hoarse with fear. Papa’s eyes fluttered back in his head, and for a moment I thought he might have fainted.

  “Papa!” I shouted again. The warning bell was ringing with a persistent clang. The soldiers were about to break through the door.

  “Papa!” I yelled a third time.

  “Yes, yes,” he finally said. “I’m…I’m fine.” His voice was weak and breathless.

  I pulled him with all my might as Papa raised himself to one knee, trying to stand.

  Boots on the staircase, clomping closer and closer.

  Loud voices.

  Papa struggling.

  I pulled again, trying to take his weight into my arms.

  And then, Anneliese appeared from the other side of the wardrobe.

  She instantly sized up the situation and grabbed Papa on one side, while I moved to the other.

  “Pull!” she commanded.

  Together, we tugged and finally raised Papa from the floor. There was a welt on the side of his cheek where he must have struck his face. We had run out of time and had to get through the door.

  Anneliese jumped into the wardrobe first, and then turned to pull Papa in after her. I was the last to go. I did not hesitate for one more second. I threw myself through the wardrobe and fell headlong into the secret room.

  Anneliese was there to shut the door behind me.

  Chapter 13

  I had bumped my arm hard as I flung myself through the wardrobe. When I stood up and looked do
wn, an angry red bruise was already swelling on my elbow. It throbbed and ached, and I squeezed my eyes shut, counting silently in my head until the pain had eased up. Then, I opened my eyes and looked around.

  All the workers were there, Anneliese and her sister, Herr Bromberger, Erna Haney, Willy Latter, along with all the others. Some people stood in the center of the floor, heads cradled in their hands. Others stood along the wall, pressing their backs into the concrete. I could see the looks on everyone’s faces. Fear! It floated through the room like smoke from a fireplace when someone forgot to open the flue.

  I guided Papa to a corner and stood next to him. I was worried about the bruise on his face that looked as sore as the one on my elbow. I clutched his arm, listening for sounds on the other side of the wardrobe. What was that? A muffled noise. Heavy boots. A man’s voice, and then two more, or maybe three or four. Who knew how many soldiers were there, searching the factory! Where is Herr Weidt? I wondered wildly. Is he trying to explain why his factory floor is empty on a work day? What possible excuse could he give? Will the soldiers take him away? What will happen to us next?

  I looked around the room again. Willy was rocking back and forth on his feet. Anneliese and Marianne stood holding one another. Herr Bromberger and Erna had their heads down. That was when Anneliese turned out the light, and the small room was plunged into blackness. Papa didn’t flinch; darkness was something he was used to. For me, it was as if I myself were blind.

  It was crowded in the small space with all of us jammed shoulder to shoulder. And it was cold. Frigid air seeped in through unseen cracks and soaked into my skin. The beautiful green dress that Anneliese had made for me was no protection. I longed for a sweater or a jacket to wrap myself in. But there had been no time to grab anything.

  Despite the cold, a line of sweat trickled down my back, joined by another, and then a third. I tried to breathe in and out, but no air would enter my lungs. The harder I gasped for air, the less I was able to take in. I was shaking from head to toe, and I wanted my body to be anywhere other than in this room.

  Papa placed his arm protectively around my shoulder and pulled my head closer, stroking my hair.

  “Shhh,” he whispered. “I’m here, always here.”

  That was when I reached up to touch the blue pin on my dress, my cornflower. Mama, I thought desperately. Not even Mama would be able to save us if we were found.

  I had no idea how much time passed. Minutes? An hour? Eventually, the footsteps and voices faded on the other side of the cabinet. And still we stood and waited silently. And when more time had passed, I heard softer footsteps approaching and then the sound of jackets being pushed aside in the wardrobe. Finally, someone knocked on the secret door.

  I held my breath.

  The wardrobe door clicked open.

  Chapter 14

  Herr Weidt crawled into the secret room and stood up, light from the factory windows illuminating him from behind.

  “The danger has passed, my friends,” he said. “You can come back inside, now.”

  Still no one spoke. I squinted at the light, exhaled slowly, and reached up to wipe my brow. I had been sweating so hard that my hair was stuck to my forehead. Then I pulled Papa by the arm and we joined the line to crawl back through the wardrobe and reenter the factory. When we were back on the other side, Herr Weidt gathered us together into a circle.

  “It was the Gestapo,” he said grimly. “Three of them.”

  “But why?” I croaked out.

  Herr Weidt sighed and scratched at his chin. “They’re checking all the businesses. They know that there are Jews hiding all over the city.”

  My heart sank again. It’s only a matter of time, I thought. We may have avoided the Gestapo on this search, but how long can we keep doing it?

  “They were surprised to find an empty factory,” Herr Weidt added.

  “How did you get them to go away?” I asked.

  “I told them that my workers had been working here late during the night, finishing off a big order. So, I had given everyone the morning off.”

  “And they believed you?”

  “I’ve learned that these corrupt Gestapo officials will sometimes look the other way when you grease their palms,” he said bitterly. “So, I slipped the head guard some money. I’ll do anything to make sure they don’t get close to you.”

  Would bribery really help? I wondered. And for how long?

  “Back to your stations!” Herr Weidt instructed. “The best way to get over an incident like this is to go back to work.”

  One by one, the workers returned to their machines and tables. Slowly, the silent factory floor began to hum with activity once more. Bristles were combed and cut. Fibers were bound together and glued. Chairs scraped across the floor. Conversations resumed.

  Herr Weidt walked among the workstations, pausing to talk to each worker. I watched as he placed a reassuring hand on Erna’s shoulder. He said something to Herr Bromberger who reached out and eagerly shook his hand. Marianne and Anneliese both hugged him, which seemed to startle him so completely that his face turned bright red.

  Papa went back to bundling horsehair. Herr Weidt paused to check the welt on his face.

  “I heard that you tripped and fell. I hope you’re all right,” Herr Weidt said.

  “It’s nothing,” Papa said, waving off the concern. “Lillian was there to help me. What would we do without you?” he added. “You’re saving us over and over again.”

  Herr Weidt grasped both of Papa’s hands and then moved over to me.

  I stood in front of my packing boxes, but couldn’t lift anything to put inside. My arms felt like stones, and my brain seemed disconnected from the rest of me. It was as if I were in pieces and couldn’t put myself together.

  Herr Weidt paused beside me. “Are you all right?” he asked.

  “I don’t know,” I replied, hesitantly. “I think so. I mean, we weren’t found, so yes, I’m fine.”

  He nodded forcefully. “And remember, the brushes and brooms we make here are necessary for the German military. As long as we continue to churn out these products, the Nazis will not shut me down, and everyone will have a safe place to work.”

  Safe! There was that word again.

  “Anneliese told me that you hurt your arm,” Herr Weidt said, suddenly.

  I looked down at my elbow, which had swollen to nearly twice its usual size. And not only was my arm injured, but I realized that I had also torn the beautiful dress that Anneliese had given me. The sleeve hung from the seam at my shoulder. I winced as Herr Weidt gently took my arm and tried to straighten it.

  “I don’t think anything is broken,” he said, as I explained about my fall trying to get through the wardrobe. “Ask Hetti to put some ice on it this evening. That should help bring the swelling down. You may have quite a colorful bruise there. You and your father,” he added with a sad smile.

  I pulled my arm back and cradled it against my body.

  “Your father is lucky to have you with him,” Herr Weidt added.

  “We’re lucky to have each other.” I glanced over at Papa.

  “But you’re worried about him.”

  How does he know? “I don’t want Papa to know that,” I replied.

  Herr Weidt sighed deeply and shook his head. “So many worries for a young girl.”

  He was just about to walk on, but I had a question that I still needed to ask. “Do you think they’ll come back? The Gestapo, I mean.” My voice was barely a whisper.

  Herr Weidt nodded and sighed again. “I’m afraid so. But you’re prepared now. You managed so well during this raid, and you’ll manage just as well for the next one and the one after that.”

  How many more? I wondered.

  Chapter 15

  Hetti iced my elbow until I couldn’t tell whether the blue color on my arm was from t
he bruise or from being frozen! And she fussed over Papa, trying to put ice on his cheek, though he really didn’t want her to do that. Then, she fed us all evening long, insisting that the only solution to that terrible ordeal was to eat until we couldn’t eat anymore.

  “Food solves every problem, Mäuschen,” she said, ladling another piece of roast chicken onto my plate and slathering it with thick gravy.

  I didn’t have the heart to say no to her. But I also couldn’t swallow much of anything. In the end, I was grateful that she was there to care for us, to mother me in a way I needed.

  But that night, as I was lying in bed, the memory of the search at the factory came crashing down on me. I reached for Schatzi, holding her close as I rocked back and forth trying to catch my breath. Tears streamed down my cheeks, but I didn’t want to cry out for Papa. He had looked so sad and scared when we finally arrived back at Hetti’s. I would have cried out for him in the past, but somehow, I couldn’t do that anymore. So instead, I turned and reached for my cornflower pin, lying on the little table next to me, and pressed it against my cheek, longing for Mama. I was grateful that Hetti was trying to be motherly, but it wasn’t the same. I needed my real mother. I wanted her with me, holding me, soothing me. Papa had said it was better that she wasn’t alive to see all of this. But I wanted her alive!

  JJJ

  Anneliese took back my torn dress and said she’d repair it. And, true to her promise, she returned it to me a few days later as good as new. I hugged her tightly but she brushed all my thanks aside.

  “If only everything could be fixed as easily as this dress,” she said.

  Papa’s cheek healed quickly. And, as Herr Weidt had predicted, my arm went from red to blue to bright purple. And then, as more weeks went by, the bruise turned to green, and then to lemon-yellow, and finally it faded to nothing. But the memory of the search did not fade one bit.

  My life continued to exist in two places, Hetti’s house where I ate and slept and grew accustomed to opera, and Herr Weidt’s factory where I packaged boxes for shipment to the front and talked with my friends who were fast becoming my family. And of course, there was a third place, the walk to and from the factory where I kept my head down and held on to Papa. We always walked quickly, not wanting to be noticed.