by Riker, Becky
“That’s good,” the man said, because my Polish is limited to asking you if you speak it, and I was running out of languages.
Karlijna laughed at this.
“You must be the girl who is living with the Goldblooms.”
“I am. My name is Karlijna Bergstrom.”
“How did this come about?”
“I met them through Mr. Goldbloom’s sister and her husband, Erich and Regina Stein.”
“We are very happy to have you here, Miss Bergstrom. I hope you will come again.”
“Thank you. If my hosts do not mind, I believe I will.”
Karlijna arrived home to find that Rachel had washed and dried her old dress.
“I was just about to mend some small tears in it,” Rachel patted the seat next to her, “Sit down, and you can keep me company while I work.”
Karlijna did as she was told.
“The fabric is very sturdy. Did you make this dress yourself?”
Karlijna shook her head and laughed a little, “No, I did not.”
“Your mother?”
“No. I don’t know who made the dress. It was not my dress until just a few weeks ago. It only became mine because the one I had been wearing was missing when I went to get dressed, and this was all that was left that was suitable for me.”
Rachel looked at her very oddly before resuming her mending, “I suppose it is a good thing it is so near your size, then.”
Karlijna didn’t even look at the garment, “It is much nearer my size than the one I gave up. That one came above my knees.”
Rachel put down her work and took Karlijna’s hands in her own.
“Is is really as we are being told? Are they killing Jews?”
Karlijna held pity in her heart for this woman who likely had friends and family still in Poland.
“Yes, it is true.”
“And,” she leaned closer to the girl, “they have killed hundreds, shooting them, beating them, starving them?”
Karlijna knew the numbers were higher than hundreds. Thousands had been on those trains heading east. Each car was packed until the passengers could not stand. For days they travelled. On occasion, the train would stop, but the doors didn’t open. The women had no way to relieve themselves except within the confines of the train. There was no place to put the dead who could not wait for their destination to slip from life. The smell was overpowering; it flooded the senses, gripped the minds, and hardened every heart.
Upon arriving at the camp, the women were greeted by smoky skies. At first, Karlijna had thought it was snowing. She learned the next day it was ashes. It took her a few more weeks to discover the source of those ashes.
If every inch of those trains was packed with humanity, why were the barracks at the camp not more crowded? Where had those people gone? Everyone knew Auschwitz was the end of the line.
Karlijna felt tears coming on, but she could not stop them. She nodded, “Yes, Rachel, hundreds of people die in those camps.”
Rachel wiped tears from her own eyes, “And you have lost your family.”
“Yes,” Karlijna shook her head to stop the images from creeping in.
“Why?” Rachel knotted her fists together, “You are not a Jew.”
Karlijna sighed deeply, “We hid the Jews.”
CHAPTER FIVE
Nobody asked any more questions of Karlijna. She knew the family was aware of some of what she had gone through, but they must have realized how painful it was for her to talk of it. Whether they spoke of it behind her back, Karlijna never knew.
Julius was home infrequently. Sometimes he would come home in the middle of the night, sleep all day and leave again as soon as dusk fell. Karlijna was never disappointed to avoid him. He seemed to be angry with her, just for the mere fact that she was a Gentile.
One morning, a month after her arrival, Karlijna awoke to the sound of angry whispers.
“I don’t care where she goes. That isn’t my concern,” Karlijna thought the voice belonged to Julius.
“Be reasonable. You’re passing judgment on someone just because – ” Maurice didn’t have an opportunity to finish.
“If she doesn’t go, I will,” this time Karlijna was sure it was Julius. “I’m not going to contribute money to a family who gives shelter to a Nazi.”
Karlijna sat up, trying to block out the rest of the argument. There could be no doubt they were talking about her. She had no desire to be a wedge between Julius and his family, but where could she go.
Her options weren’t limited, they were nonexistent. Pastor Neilson was already housing two refugee families. She didn’t know many other people in the area. Most people she was acquainted with were refugees like herself and Jewish besides. Even if they had the means to support her, they regarded her with suspicion.
Karlijna rose and dressed. As quietly as possible, she cleaned her face and teeth. She was considering what things she had acquired over the past month were hers for the taking when Rachel stepped into the room.
“You’re up early, Karlijna,” her cheery tone belied the angry discussion she had just had with her son.
Karlijna debated whether to tell the gracious lady she was going or to slip away later.
“I guess you heard Julius.”
Karlijna was glad the decision was taken from her, “Yes. I will leave as soon as possible.”
Rachel grasped the young woman’s hands in her own, “Oh, no, Karlijna, no. Please do not leave on account of what he said.”
Karlijna was touched by the woman’s generosity, but knew what she must do, “Rachel, you have been kindness itself, but I cannot create problems in your home. I will not bear the guilt of dividing a family.”
Rachel began to respond, but Karlijna stopped her, “Please allow me to thank you for your generosity by sparing you the loss of a son.”
Rachel, tears of regret filling her eyes, nodded, “I understand you.”
Karlijna picked up the dress and shawl Rachel had made for her, “May I take these with me?”
Rachel’s voice was thick, “You may take those clothes and the blankets you have been using,” she turned, “And I will gather some things. . .” she hurried from the room and Karlijna began to follow, but had to stop suddenly to avoid running into Rachel who had spun back around to face the young girl.
“Karlijna, I have an idea,” her eyes were bright again. She crossed the room to the bedroom shared by the Stein family.
“Regina,” she knocked softly on the door, “are you up? We have a big job to do.”
Karlijna soon found out what Rachel’s plans were, and, though the girl was overwhelmed and tried to stop them, they would do as they wished.
“It is too much,” Karlijna protested.
“Not at all,” Rachel’s fingers were busy with a needle and thread while Regina cut fabric.
Since Julius didn’t plan to be back for two days, Rachel and Regina insisted that Karlijna stay there while they made her some things. Karlijna would not have so easily agreed if she had known the quantity of clothing the women planned to provide.
“Karlijna,” Regina explained, “you are probably going to have to find a job. You do not know if you will have money enough to buy adequate clothes.”
“But the cost,” Karlijna knew how expensive fabric was at this time.
Regina and Rachel looked at each other and laughed.
“Do not worry about the cost,” Rachel replied, “My son will worry about the cost.”
Karlijna was perplexed, “Julius?”
“Yes,” she nodded, “Julius. He is the only son I have. He will pay the cost of the clothes.
“Julius trades things,” Regina leaned toward Karlijna with a sly smile.
Karlijna nodded. She knew this much.
Regina went on, “He gets things that most people can’t because he has made special friends.”
Karlijna’s eyes widened, “Is this stolen fabric?”
Rachel shook her head vigorously, “Not stolen, Karlijna. J
ulius paid for it, but. . .”
Karlijna didn’t want to know anymore about it. This was obviously what people were talking about when they spoke of the black market. Her brother, Benard, once told her a person could get anything they wanted if they knew people.
Karlijna waved a hand over the yard goods, “So why did he buy all this fabric? It was not for me.”
“No,” Rachel shook her head, “No it was not, but it is now.”
The women worked long into the night. By the end of the first day the women had put together two winter dresses and another lightweight dress. They all had long sleeves.
Karlijna had, in her early childhood, been accustomed to having fashionable and expensive clothes. These dresses were neither. Rather, they were sturdy and simple, and Karlijna had never seen any more beautiful to her.
“Thank you,” she fingered the fabric, unable to look her friends in the eye.
Regina gripped the slim shoulders and pulled the girl into her arms, “Karlijna, we are glad to do it. You are as one of our own.”
By the next day, the women had added undergarments, a heavy sweater, and warm stockings to the pile. They found a small case in which to transport it as well. Karlijna did not protest again, but she was tempted.
Maurice took the day off of work himself to help Karlijna look for a job. By the afternoon, they were both weary, more from disappointment than the miles they had walked.
Their failure should have been no surprise. Karlijna had few skills, and her Swedish was limited to the dozen or so phrases she had learned since her arrival. Added to that, she was certainly nothing to look at, with her emaciated frame and her ragged hair. There was no reason to hire such a girl.
“I need to get information about Julius,” Maurice explained as he led her near the docks. “Perhaps he will not come back soon.”
Karlijna saw the man was trying to keep her from being disheartened, and she appreciated the effort. Nonetheless, she knew Julius would eventually return, and she would need to move out. Putting it off for one day, or perhaps two, would not be of much consequence.
“Hello, Miss Bergstrom,” a voice from behind her called out. Karlijna turned with a smile to the captain.
“Captain,” she greeted him, “it is good to see you. Did you have a successful fishing trip yesterday?”
The man had spoken to her at church on Sunday and informed her that he would be going to pick up some people in the middle of the night.
“I did,” he nodded a greeting at Maurice, “they are now on their way to their family in Northern Sweden.”
Maurice went to speak to a man who might know of Julius’ whereabouts. The captain remained by Karlijna’s side.
“What brings you down here today? Are you looking for fish?”
“No,” Karlijna could not keep the sadness from her voice, “I am looking for a job.”
“A job?” he scowled, “Surely they are not asking you to pay for your keep? The Goldblooms have always been generous people.”
“No,” she waved her hands in defense of her friends, “they would not do such a thing. It is time for me to move out and begin to do for myself.”
The captain eyed her a moment, “They have said this?”
“No. The decision was mine.”
“Why?” the captain looked toward Maurice who was still in conversation with another man.
A slight tilt of her chin told him she was not going to answer the question.
Torkel Anderson was no fool. He knew there was more to this situation than she would say and that her silence was intended to protect someone. It was not reasonable to assume that one of the Goldblooms had created problems for her, but he needed some time to think before he could find out why. He scratched his chin.
“I may know of someone who can use you for a few days. It will not be permanent, but perhaps it will lead to something.”
Karlijna brightened, “Whom shall I see about it?”
The captain almost laughed at her eagerness, “I shall see about it myself and come for you when I know.”
Maurice joined them, “I am ready, Karlijna.”
“Maurice,” she explained quickly, “the captain thinks he might know of some work for me.”
Maurice’s face was somber, “Very good.”
The captain smiled at the other man, “I will stop by your house when I know for sure.”
Karlijna walked with Maurice toward the house. He seemed in no mood to talk and she obliged him, but once they arrived home, the family wanted to know how the search had gone.
“Did you find something?” Regina was first at the door.
“I perhaps did,” Karlijna said and then explained what had transpired.
“This is good, is it not Maurice?” Rachel evidently noticed her husband’s attitude.
“Yes, good.”
“This is the same man who brought you to us, Regina?” Rachel continued.
“Yes, he is kind,” Regina frowned at her brother. “Have you a reason to distrust Captain Anderson?”
“No,” the man sat down and spread his palms out on the table, “but he is not a Jew.”
This statement was met with dead silence. The women looked from one to the other.
It was Karlijna who disturbed the quiet, “Maurice. I am not a Jew. I am a Gentile, yet you fed, housed, and even clothed me.”
Maurice looked up at the girl. She could read the apology in his eyes, “I forget you are not a Jew,” he laughed a little. “If you were, I would be preparing you to marry my son. You are a good girl.”
Karlijna smiled at this, but she found herself grateful there would be no chance of that happening. Young as she was, her eyes had seen too much for her tender heart to ever love a man who could judge another person based on their lineage. Julius Goldbloom was safe from her affections.
Shortly after the family had taken their evening meal, a knock came on the door. Erich answered it.
“Hello, Captain Anderson. It is good to see you.”
“I have come to offer a job to our young friend, Karlijna.”
CHAPTER SIX
The work at Leif Anderson’s store was not difficult, but it was many hours every day. Karlijna got up every morning before the sun rose and collapsed into her bed in the back room, late at night.
Torkel had said the job would only last for three days, while Leif’s wife was overcoming a sprained ankle. However, the ankle did not heal as quickly as they hoped, and Karlijna had a job for two weeks. The young woman was not glad for the other lady's misfortune, but she was grateful for a place to stay, food to eat, and the income that the job provided.
The best part of the job was that she spent the meals with Leif and his wife, Inger. The couple both spoke a bit of German, and she was able to converse with them, but they urged her to learn Swedish. She was an eager pupil and learned much during her stay there.
This benefited her most on Sundays. She could now understand some of the sermon and Scripture. What a blessing it was to hear the Word of God after such a time.
On two occasions Karlijna visited the Goldblooms and Steins. The first time Julius had been home, so she stayed just moments. The second opportunity she had was more rewarding as only the women and children were home. She would have like to see Maurice and Erich, but Julius’ absence was not mourned.
“How are they treating you?” Rachel looked keenly at her.
“Very well,” Karlijna assured her, “I work hard, but they are kind and fair.”
The older woman nodded, “This is good for you.”
“Do they know how long they will need you?” Regina was trying to get the baby to eat some cereal so her attention was divided.
“They only need me for two more days,” Karlijna was telling herself not to worry, but it was not easy.
Rachel was watching for, and saw, the concern on the child’s face, “You will come back if you need to, won’t you?”
Karlijna smiled, “I will only come if your entire family
agrees.”
Regina frowned and looked away from the baby who took the opportunity to spit all the food from her mouth, “You would let the narrow mind of my nephew keep you from a place to sleep?”
“I will not divide a family,” Karlijna stated. “If you speak to Julius and he says it is good for me to stay temporarily, I will come. If he says it is bad, I will not come.”
The women tried to persuade her to agree to come, but she refused. She left after a short visit. Sunday was her day to catch up on all the sleep she missed during the week, and she knew she was going to need extra strength if she was to find a new job.
Monday morning, Karlijna was up early as usual. She was sorting inventory in the back when she heard loud voices coming from the front of the store.
Her first instinct was to hide. Based on past experiences, Karlijna knew that it was not wise to enter a room where people were angry. After listening for a few moments, though, the girl realized one of the voices belonged to Leif and the other was shouting in French.
Curiosity drove her to the door. Standing near the counter was a young man, not much older than Karlijna, yelling at Leif. Leif was responding in Swedish too quickly for Karlijna to be sure, but she thought he was telling the boy to go to a shop two doors down where someone spoke French.
“Leif,” she dared to interrupt, “I don’t think he understands you.”
Leif turned frustrated eyes to her, “I can see that, but I don’t understand him either.”
She turned to the boy and spoke in French, “May I help you?”
The boy blew out a breath of frustration, “Why can’t he understand I don’t speak Swedish or whatever gibberish that is he’s saying?”
Karlijna wondered why the boy thought Leif should know French, but didn’t bother asking.
“Is there something you needed, sir?” she spoke as sweetly as possible, not noticing the look of surprise plastered on Leif ’s face.
The boy told her and she interpreted for Leif who, dumbfounded, was scarcely able to complete the task. Once the transaction was finished and the boy on his way, Karlijna turned to go back into the storeroom. Leif followed her.
“I thought you said you had no skills. That is what we have been seeking for you, a job for a girl with no skills.”
