A View Across the Rooftops: An epic, heart-wrenching and gripping World War Two historical novel

by Suzanne Kelman

  Josef became aware of an intoxicating fragrance swirling around him. A delicate bouquet he instantly recognized: tulips. He inhaled the scent freely, realizing with great relief that there was no tightness in his chest anymore, just the provocative promise of spring filling his lungs. As well as the evocative aroma, the cold chill of the day was far behind him. Instead, drenching its way all the way into his bones, was an enveloping warmth.

  Even with his eyes closed, he knew he was outside and the sun was shining in the sky. He could see and feel its radiant heat as it reflected its red glow on the inside of his eyelids. He absorbed it all for a long moment before blinking his eyes open to stare up. It had been a long time since he’d really enjoyed the sun’s heat, and he reveled in it. The sky above him stretched out, a taut canvas, Wedgewood blue splashed with wisps of white-cotton clouds. He smiled to himself, aware of exactly where he was. In the middle of a tulip field.

  Taking another deep breath and closing his eyes again, he allowed the sunlight to creep across his cheeks and warm his face. He didn’t care how he’d gotten here; he just wanted to bask for a moment.

  Then, from above him, someone giggled. The sound was gentle and childlike, and it was familiar to him. Resting up on his elbows, he looked about him, but couldn’t see anyone.

  The laughter came again, now, from beside him.

  Curious, he sat up to survey the whole field. It was breathtaking. Yellow, pink, red, and white tulips stretched forth in every direction. They gently waved in the breeze that ruffled his own hair, but though he looked about him, he appeared to be alone.

  A voice boomed from above, coming through the clouds. He recognized it instantly as the slow, deliberate words poured forth.

  How will I keep my soul from touching yours?

  How shall I lift it out beyond you toward other things?

  Josef rose to his feet, closed his eyes again, and listened. It was his father’s voice and he was reading to him, the poem he’d read aloud on his wedding day to Sarah.

  All at once he became aware of another presence; someone was behind him. Turning swiftly around, his heart leaped in knowing, even before he saw her.

  “Sarah,” he whispered, fearful that if he spoke her name too loudly, she would disappear. She was as beautiful as he remembered her on the day they had married. Her heart-shaped face framed by the copper curls, her large emerald eyes staring lovingly up at him.

  He reached toward her, wanting to take her in his arms but so afraid. It had been so long. Tentatively, he drew the back of his hand down her face, tracing her cheekbone. She shivered at his touch, her face glowing as she tipped her head up to him with expectation.

  Unable to hold back any longer, he pulled her to him desperately and hugged her tightly. His world stopped. Stopped right in the middle of that moment. His body entwined with hers, their hearts beating as one. He let out a long, slow breath he had been holding for so many years and then inhaled her scent, his face buried deep in her hair, her body pressed close to his.

  When he finally drew away, he searched her eyes. “How? Why?”

  She shook her head, and her strawberry-gold curls shimmered in the light of the sun. She answered him by tracing his lips with her tiny fingers.

  Urgently, he took her in his arms and kissed her, passionately, holding her so tightly he was afraid he might break her. Not wanting to let her go. His legs buckled, and a carpet of tulips softened their fall. He continued to cover her face with kisses as she giggled. Then, exhausted, he looked down at her.

  “I’ve missed you so much,” he muttered breathlessly.

  “I’ve missed you, too,” she whispered back.

  He wrapped himself around her body, and they held each other very close for a very long time, savoring the feeling of completeness.

  After what seemed like an eternity, he released her, and she ran her hands through his hair as he lay staring down at her in awe. “I have so much to tell you,” he began. “So much has happened since you left.”

  She nodded. “I know. But, Josef, it’s time.”

  “Time?”

  “Time for you to let me go. Time for you to forgive me, forgive yourself. You cannot remain in the place that you have been. There are new things for you ahead. More love, more joy.”

  Panic gripped hold of him as he sat bolt upright and searched her face. “You can’t leave me. Please tell me you won’t leave me again, Sarah.”

  “I never left you, Josef,” she uttered, just above a whisper. “I have always been with you. But you must promise me now you will forgive yourself.”

  “How can I? It was my fault that you died.”

  “No,” she responded forcefully. “It was no one’s fault.”

  “I killed our son,” he spluttered out, feeling the weight of his words stinging the back of his throat.

  She shook her head. “I should have told you that the contractions were coming. I just thought it was my body practicing.”

  “No! I should have noticed, should have taken a moment to see, to look at you. I was so caught up in preparing for the math exam, I didn’t even remember looking into your face that morning or kissing you goodbye.” Tears caught in his throat. “I didn’t even kiss you goodbye.”

  “Shhhh,” she comforted him. “I knew how much you loved me. I didn’t need one kiss to tell me that. I saw it every day in your eyes, in your care for us, in your smile.”

  Josef buried his face deep in her hair again, needing to say it all. “When I found you that afternoon, there was already so much blood. I knew it couldn’t be right. I wanted to go for help, but I was so paralyzed with fear. I knew if I left you, you would slip from me and, selfishly, I wanted every last minute with you, holding you, kissing you. But if I had gone right then, I could have saved our son. I could have saved him.”

  “You don’t know that.” She placed her tiny hands on the sides of his face. “No more regrets. Just love. Just love from now on. Now you have to live for yourself. Live for me and live for Jacob.”

  His heart jumped at the mention of his son’s name.

  “Promise me, Josef. Promise me you will forgive yourself.” Tears brimmed in the corners of her emerald eyes. “It’s the only way you’ll ever be able to remember the joy, not just the pain. Other people need you now.”

  He knew she was talking of Michael.

  She drew him in with an intoxicating kiss as his own salty tears flowed freely down his cheeks and mingled with hers.

  Before he knew it, she was gone.

  He started to panic. He had to find her. He jumped to his feet again, looking frantically around him. He caught sight of something rippling in the wind, the veil from her wedding day. She was wearing it, and it streamed out ahead of him then disappeared in the glint of the sun.

  He leaped frantically over the tulips, scattering and crushing multicolored petals beneath his feet, barreling toward the place he had seen the veil.

  He caught sight of it again; it was just ahead of him. He stretched forward to grab it, but it slid through his fingertips. He lurched at it, snatching at it again and again, but each time it slipped from his grasp, growing longer and longer each time.

  Now, she was so far away he could no longer see her. He continued racing after the train, toward a windmill that marked the corner of the field. As he did, its ancient sails began to spin faster and faster, matching the pace of the heady terror running frantically through his mind. He lunged forward one more time, his fingers managed to latch on tightly to the veil. He yanked hard, but Sarah was gone. There was nothing left of her but the gauzy fabric in his hands.

  Josef continued to look frantically about him. The strains of violin music drifted out to him along the wind. He looked up above him and there was Sarah, now perched on the top of the windmill, playing her violin in frantic time, matching the pace of the sails. Suddenly, all around him were dozens of windmills and dozens of Sarahs. Which one was his? He raced from one to the other calling out her name.

 
He heard her voice all around him, reciting her beloved Rilke.

  And yet everything which touches us, you and me,

  takes us together like a single bow,

  drawing out from two strings but one voice.

  He turned around frantically. The sun burned in his eyes, but through the glare, he saw a silhouette. He reached for it. If he could just touch her, he knew he could hold on. Gratefully, he felt her fingers. He gripped hold tightly of her hand then and was not going to let it go. Yes, she was there. Suddenly the day went black and the sun faded. The light was gone but she was there. He could feel her fingers in his.

  He felt exhausted, his breath was suddenly labored, and he was sweating. Through the darkness, a ceiling swam into his view. It was unfamiliar. Where was he now? Where was the beautiful sky? His eyes tried to focus. He was not in his own bed. There was no crack above him in his ceiling. But he could still feel Sarah’s hand. He turned quickly to her. A lamp came on by the side of his bed. He was startled to see Hannah Pender looking down at him, looking alarmed, and he was gripping her hand so tightly it was white.

  “Are you okay, Professor?” she asked with great concern.

  Chapter 38

  “Where am I?” Josef croaked, releasing Hannah’s hand. His throat was parched and dry. Hannah reached for a glass of water and drew it to his lips. He drank urgently.

  “You are in the hospital,” she whispered back. “You were found on the street after collapsing during an air raid.”

  Josef tried to take in the information. “How did you know?” he asked, feeling embarrassed that he had been gripping a married woman’s hand so tightly.

  “I came to your house to check on you yesterday, and I could hear the cat meowing very loudly at the front door. And I was concerned when you didn’t open it, so I came to the hospital just to check, and I found you here.”

  “What do you mean yesterday? How long have I been here?”

  “Four days. The doctor says you are lucky to be alive.”

  “Four days!” He closed his eyes to absorb the news. Then they flashed open again in terror. Michael! He had to get back to Michael. How would he have survived so long alone?

  He struggled to sit up. “I have to go,” he insisted.

  Hannah laid her hand on his shoulder. “You need to rest.”

  “But I have to check on my… cat.”

  Hannah spoke with calm assurance. “Don’t worry about your cat. When I found you here, I managed to contact your niece. She was listed as your next of kin at the university. And we found your key in your belongings. Don’t worry. She is feeding your cat.”

  “She is what!?” Josef pulled himself to a sitting position, trying desperately not to give into the suffocating fear. “I have to get home,” he persisted. “I have to get home now!”

  “That’s not a very good idea,” Hannah warned. “I’m sure the doctor will not want you to leave yet. You’re still very weak.”

  But he wasn’t listening to her and had already started to move his body out of the bed, rocking up onto unstable feet. He clung desperately to the bed frame, breathing heavily, his head swimming as he tried to regain his balance.

  “Please, Professor,” Hannah implored, “you really do need to rest.”

  “I’m going home,” he responded in such a firm tone that she backed down. Apparently she knew she wasn’t going to be able to argue with him. He stumbled to his wardrobe in the hospital room and, gasping for breath, pulled out his shirt. “You can help me or you can watch me, but either way I am going to dress.”

  Hannah’s cheeks pinked a little as he unbuttoned his pajama top the hospital staff had clothed him in and pulled it off revealing his chest, still covered with the rash. Reluctantly, she reached for the rest of his clothes in the wardrobe and helped him dress.

  “I think we should at least find a doctor to look at you before you leave,” she said.

  In response, Josef left the room and shuffled down the corridor.

  Hannah’s voice followed after him. “Please, Professor, you need to get back into bed. You may still be hallucinating.”

  “I’m going to go home.”

  “Well, I won’t help you,” she stated as he continued to drag himself down the hallway. “You need to stay in the hospital.”

  Ten minutes later, a very disgruntled Hannah supported Josef as he struggled along the road toward his home. His breathing was raspy and labored as he walked one foot in front of the other, once again leaning on her heavily. All of her reservations fell on deaf ears.

  As they finally turned the corner to his street, Josef was relieved to see his front door. But not for long. Parked outside of his house was a distinct black car. He recognized it instantly. It was Heinrich’s.

  Both of them stopped and stared at it. Terror ran through Josef’s veins. They must have found him, found Michael. Ingrid and the Nazi. Why else would he be here?

  Hannah looked confused and echoed his own fear. “Why is there a German here?”

  Josef shook his head, with no energy to explain or even to speculate. He hurried down his path. As they approached the open door, from inside he could hear voices raised in anger. A chilling fear spread through his whole being, and he started to shake uncontrollably. “Oh my God,” he muttered hopelessly.

  As they entered the hallway, Josef saw Ingrid; she was downcast, sheepish, her face crimson as Heinrich marched up and down, yelling at her. Noticing the new arrivals, the Major barreled up the hallway with great agitation.

  “Now here’s Uncle Josef!” he snapped sarcastically. “You brought me all this way and he is here to feed his own damn cat.” His voice boomed throughout the whole hallway, vibrating with his anger.

  Hannah clung a little tighter to Josef’s arm, visibly shocked by the encounter as Heinrich continued to berate his fiancée. “Uncle Josef?” Hannah questioned, staring at him with great concern. “You are related to him?”

  Josef was speechless, unable to answer her.

  Ingrid tried to cover up her embarrassment at their argument by racing down the hallway to hug him at the door. “Uncle Josef, you shouldn’t be home yet. Why did they send you home so early?” she enquired, concerned.

  Heinrich followed her, continuing his tyrannical rant. “He’s obviously better,” he snapped. “And look, his woman is here to take care of him.”

  Heinrich took a long moment to look Hannah up and down as everyone shifted uncomfortably.

  “Have we met?” he asked suspiciously.

  Hannah shook her head vigorously. “I don’t believe so,” she responded. There was conviction in her tone, but there was also a slight tremor that Josef picked up.

  “So, this is your special friend,” Heinrich stated, with obvious anger that he had been troubled to come when there was someone else to take care of the professor’s home. His gray uniform and yelling in an unpleasant tone felt intimidating in the quiet comfort of Josef’s house.

  Hannah’s eyes found Josef’s with expectancy and her cheeks reddened as she tried to understand what Heinrich was insinuating. Straightening herself to her full height, her voice became level. “I need to get Josef settled. He needs his rest.” And turning her back on the Major, she took a firm hold of Josef’s arm and carefully helped him into a chair.

  Josef, weakened by the whole experience, was grateful but agitated. He just wanted everybody to leave so he could check on Michael.

  Hannah read the concern on his face. “I’ll make you a cup of tea,” she whispered to him as she moved back out into the hallway.

  “I’m going to feed the cat,” Ingrid announced, following Hannah into the kitchen.

  Left alone, Heinrich strode into the front room and slammed a heavy hand upon the mantelpiece. His anger still brimmed below the surface. Thrusting his hand into his pocket, he pulled out a packet of cigarettes. Without even asking, he snatched one out and lit it, angrily blowing out a plume of gray smoke. Then he continued to pace the room, complaining as he practically wore
a groove in the carpet. “She thinks I am her little lapdog,” he spat out, thrusting his cigarettes back into his pocket. “I command hundreds of men every day. I have to make life-and-death decisions. She thinks all that is easy and has no idea what I have to deal with!” Then, gripping the mantel for a second, he spat out under his breath, “Nor what I am capable of.”

  Josef closed his eyes and tried desperately to will his pounding heart, shaking limbs, and spinning mind to calm.

  Heinrich continued to pace. “She lives in her little world,” he snapped, “with no idea of the problems I have. The Dutch people are horrendous to deal with on a daily basis.”

  Josef continued to concentrate on his breathing. He dared not point out that Heinrich seemed to have forgotten that he too was Dutch.

  Ingrid called out in a soft voice, “Hey, kitty, kitty, where are you hiding today?”

  Suddenly, above his head, there was a loud thud, which sounded like either a bird hitting a window or a book falling to the floor. Josef held his breath as everyone in the house went silent, focused on the sound above them.

  Heinrich took a deep drag of his cigarette as he peered at the ceiling.

  Josef began pleading to God. Please, please… Please don’t let him go upstairs.

  Ingrid’s voice called up the hallway, “So, you’re upstairs again, are you? I know where you’re hiding.”

  From where he was seated in the front room Josef saw her tiptoe up the stairs. He watched, paralyzed to do anything, the weight of his illness like a shackle pinning his body to the chair.

  Hannah bustled into the front room with a tea tray, and Heinrich continued on his rampage as he took another deep drag of his cigarette. “And don’t even get me started on the so-called Resistance,” he snapped.