Night of Flames: A Novel of World War II

by Douglas W. Jacobson

  The woman flinched and mumbled some words in Czech.

  Anna stood up, grabbed a towel from the startled woman’s hand and stepped over to the sink. Then the door burst open and two policemen charged in. They shouted a few coarse words in Czech and pushed her aside. Out of the corner of her eye Anna saw Justyn peeking through the open door.

  “Mama!” the boy shrieked and ran into the room. Before Anna could grab him he was on the floor, his arms around his mother’s neck, crying out, “Mama! Mama!”

  The policeman shouted again and pulled a long black nightstick from the holster on his belt.

  “No!” Anna yelled, pushing past the burly policeman. She knelt down beside the boy. “Justyn, it’s all right. It’s—”

  Anna suddenly felt a sharp jab on her shoulder from the policeman’s nightstick. Wincing in pain, she looked up at him. “It’s all right. I’ll take care of her.”

  The policeman’s face reddened. He reached down and grabbed Anna under the arm, jerking her to her feet. The second policeman grasped Justyn by the wrist, but the boy screamed and swung his free arm, striking the man in the face. The policeman pushed the boy away and started reaching for his nightstick when a voice bellowed out in German, “Ruhe, jetzt! Silence! What the hell’s going on?”

  The policeman holding Anna released his grip and backed up as an SS officer stepped into the room. Anna immediately took Justyn’s hand and pulled him close to her, dragging his feet through the blood.

  The terrified boy tried to squirm away and cried again, “Mama!”

  The SS officer glared at Anna and the attendant. “Raus!” he snapped, and waved his hand toward the door. “Raus jetzt!” The attendant immediately started backing out of the room, leaving bloody footprints on the dirty tile floor. She motioned for Anna to follow.

  Anna clenched her arms tightly around Justyn and managed a few words in German. “Bitte, Offizier, this is my friend. I’m trying to help her.”

  The SS officer took a step closer. “Raus! Jetzt!”

  With her arms around Justyn, Anna tried to pull him from the room. The boy kicked his feet and hollered, “No! I’m not going!” Anna leaned over and whispered sharply in his ear, “Justyn! Stop it! Settle down.”

  When she got him out of the room Anna knelt down, gripped Justyn by the shoulders and looked into his frantic eyes. “Justyn, please listen to me.”

  “Mama’s dead!” the boy wailed.

  “No! She’s not dead, Justyn. She just fainted. She’s not dead. We’ll get a doctor.”

  Anna realized that a crowd had gathered and called out, “Does anyone speak Polish?”

  A tall man wearing a white shirt and tie pushed his way through the crowd and extended his hand to help her up. “I am Karel Zajic, the assistant station manager,” the man said in Polish. He helped Anna to her feet, reached down and scooped Justyn into his arms and pushed through the crowd. He led Anna to one of the benches and set Justyn down. The boy was quiet now, but tears were streaming down his face. “I’ve called for the ambulance. They should be here any moment. What happened?” Zajic asked.

  “My friend collapsed. She’s pregnant and—” Anna stopped and took a breath. She looked down at Justyn and put her hand on the boy’s shoulder. He leaned against her. Anna took another breath and looked back at the man named Zajic. “My name is Anna Kopernik. This is Justyn. My friend is his mother.”

  Zajic nodded. “I assume you just arrived on the train from Krakow. Are you staying in Prague? Do you have relatives here?”

  “No, we’re on our way to Milan,” Anna replied.

  “Milan? You have visas?”

  “Yes.”

  The sound of sirens pierced through the station, and Zajic motioned for Anna to sit down. “Listen carefully, please. With the SS present, the police won’t give out any information to foreigners. You’ll have to stay out of the way. Have a seat here, and I’ll find out where they’ll be taking your friend.”

  Anna stood silently, her heart pounding.

  Two medics carrying a stretcher entered the station and Zajic waved at them, pointing toward the toilet. “Stay here,” he said. “I’ll be right back.”

  Anna felt Justyn tugging at her sleeve and sat down next to him. “Is Mama going to be all right?” he asked. His eyes were red and his face streaked with tears.

  Anna wiped his face with her fingers, put her arm around him and sat back on the bench. “The doctors are here now. They’ll take care of her, let’s just wait and see.”

  It was less than fifteen minutes, but it seemed like an hour, when the medics came through the door carrying Irene on the stretcher and hustled through the station toward the main entrance. The SS officer was right behind them. Anna got to her feet, took Justyn’s hand and started to follow them when Justyn jerked away.

  “I can walk by myself,” the boy grumbled.

  “Justyn, I’m sorry, but—”

  Anna saw Zajic walking toward her, motioning for her to stay where she was. The two policemen stood by the door of the toilet. “It’s OK Justyn, just stay here, next to me.”

  Zajic stepped up to her. “They’re taking your friend to a hospital not far from here. The policemen want her passport.”

  “I’ll bring it with me to the hospital,” Anna said. “Can I get a taxi?”

  Zajic shook his head. “No, they want it now. I told them you don’t speak Czech and that I was helping out.”

  “I’m not just going to hand her passport to the police,” Anna snapped. She glanced past Zajic. The two policemen were watching them.

  “Mrs. Kopernik, please understand,” Zajic said. “You don’t have a choice. They must have her passport to admit her to the hospital. Trust me, this isn’t something you want to make an issue of.”

  Anna looked into the tall man’s dark eyes then glanced at the policemen again. One stood fidgeting with his nightstick. She reached into her handbag, extracted Irene’s passport and handed it to Zajic.

  “I want to go with Mama,” Justyn said.

  Anna knelt down and took the boy’s hands. “Justyn, please, listen to me. Do you remember what your mother and I said about the Germans, about how we have to act around them?”

  The boy nodded, tears trickling down his cheeks.

  “This is one of those times,” she said. “We’ll go see your mother, but we have to be patient.”

  Justyn nodded again and turned away.

  After a minute or two of conversation with the policemen, Zajic returned. He smiled at Anna and patted Justyn on the shoulder. “Please, come with me to my office. I’ll make some tea.”

  Anna shook her head. “Thank you, but I’d rather just go to the hospital and see about my friend.”

  Zajic sighed. “Mrs. Kopernik, it’s almost one o’clock in the morning. Visiting hours ended long ago. You’ve just come from Poland, so I’m sure you understand how things are. Czechoslovakia has been occupied for over a year; one must be very careful about rules and regulations.” He placed a hand on her shoulder and extended his other hand, pointing down the hallway. “You won’t be able to see your friend until tomorrow afternoon. Please, come with me and have a cup of tea.”

  “Tomorrow?” Justyn wailed. “I want to see my mother!”

  “I know you do, Justyn,” Zajic said, patiently. “But that won’t be possible right now. The doctors are with her. Will you trust me?”

  “Can I see her tomorrow?” he asked.

  “Yes, perhaps…if she’s feeling better.”

  Zajic’s office was on the second floor of the station, overlooking the red-tiled roofs and church spires of the Stare Mesto, Prague’s medieval old town. He poured the tea and managed to find some cookies for Justyn, but the boy ignored them and curled up in a brown leather chair. Anna joined Zajic at a small table in the corner and took a sip of the warm, sweet tea. The image of Irene lying on the filthy floor in a pool of blood burned in her mind.

  “Do you have anywhere to stay tonight?” Zajic asked.

&nbs
p; Anna blinked. “No, not really,” she said, realizing she hadn’t thought about that until just this minute. “I guess we’ll get a hotel nearby.”

  Zajic leaned forward putting both hands around his cup of tea. “Mrs. Kopernik—”

  “Anna. Please, call me Anna.”

  He smiled at her. “All right, Anna it is.” He spoke quietly. “Staying at a hotel would not be wise.”

  Anna felt the tingling on the back of her neck again. Icy fingers.

  Zajic continued. “The hotels are obligated to report all Jewish guests to the authorities. I realize your friends have travel visas for Italy, and had you just passed on through, chances are they’d have had no problems. But now that you have to stay, there’s no telling what may happen.”

  Anna swallowed hard. Tears trickled down her face.

  Zajic paused while she set down the teacup and rummaged through her handbag for a handkerchief.

  “I’m all right,” she said, wiping away the tears. “Go ahead.” She glanced at Justyn. He was still sitting in the same position, curled up and staring at the floor, clutching his woolen cap against his face.

  “Perhaps your friend will be feeling better by tomorrow, and you’ll be on your way before anyone bothers you,” Zajic said. “On the other hand, it’s a risk. The Germans started deporting Jews from Czechoslovakia to Poland over a month ago.”

  Anna felt a dull throb in her temples. “Yes, I know. But, what choice do we have? If we can’t see Irene until tomorrow we’ll just have to chance it.”

  “Let me suggest another alternative,” Zajic said. “A woman I know runs a small rooming house in the Stare Mesto district. It’s not a hotel so she doesn’t have to file any reports—and it’s small enough that no one ever bothers her.”

  “I don’t know…”

  Zajic looked her in the eye. “I’ve sent Jewish travelers to her before, Anna. Everyone calls her ‘Mama Zdena.’ She speaks German and she’s very discreet. You’d be quite safe.” He got up and stepped over to his desk. “With your permission, I’ll give her a call.”

  Anna looked up at him, warily. This was crazy—who was this man? Why would he care?

  As if he were reading her mind, Zajic said, “I have relatives in Poland, Anna. We haven’t heard from them in months. I’d like to help.”

  Chapter 25

  IT WAS LATE AFTERNOON, and Jan stood in a freezing drizzle in the tiny triangular-shaped park at the corner of Marka and Reformaka, his stomach in knots. Across the street was their apartment building. He glanced around. The area was deserted save for two nuns huddled together under an umbrella just disappearing through the front archway of the convent down the street. He looked back at the gray stone building and stared at the two second floor windows nearest the corner, hoping for a sign of activity. Ludwik’s final order flashed through his mind: Do not make any attempt to contact your family or anyone you know. Jan tightened his grip on the briefcase, thinking about the envelope inside he had promised to deliver. His entire career had been built on obeying orders.

  He crossed the street, entered the building and took the key ring out of his pocket to unlock the foyer door. Then he saw it: the heavy, wrought iron door was open and the glass was missing, jagged around the edges as though it had been smashed. He ran down the hallway, raced up two flights of steps, punching the button that turned on the stairwell lights, and stopped in front of the door to their apartment. He listened for some sound of movement.

  Nothing.

  He found the second key on the ring and reached for the lock. But this door was ajar, too. He looked closer, examining the casing. It was cracked, as though someone had forced the door. He pushed it open, stepped inside and froze.

  The parlor was a mess: furniture turned over, lamps broken, papers and books scattered on the floor. Jan stepped into the room, calling out, “Anna!”

  He crossed the parlor, stumbling over the litter and stopped in the hallway, staring in disbelief at the broken pictures and fragments of Anna’s Hummel collection lying on the parquet floor. He turned toward the bedroom door. It was closed. He stared at it, terrified, his hand trembling as he reached for the knob. When the door creaked open it was all he could do not to close his eyes. He started breathing again when he saw the room. The covers had been ripped off the bed and the bureau drawers dumped out—but Anna wasn’t there.

  He was dizzy and his heart pounded as he lurched back through the hallway and into the kitchen, crunching through broken glass. He yelled again, “Anna!”

  Jan had no idea how long he had been sitting on the kitchen floor, but he suddenly realized it was almost dark. He got to his feet, picked up the briefcase and shuffled back through the ransacked apartment. He stood in the middle of the parlor, looking around at the chaos, when his eyes fell on a familiar object reflecting a thin beam of light from the streetlamp outside. It was a small cut-glass model of a hand, sitting on the mantel above the fireplace. It was Anna’s favorite, the symbol of Antwerp, where she attended university.

  He stepped over to the mantel and picked it up, rubbing his fingers over the smooth surface, the precisely cut fingers and thumb. Memories flooded back. It was a gift from Rene and Mimi Leffard, the Belgian friends Anna had lived with in Antwerp. He turned the miniature object over in his hand several times looking at it, remembering. He and Anna always held hands when they walked together. He slipped it into his coat pocket.

  Jan glanced around the room again, rubbing his forehead, trying to think. The other tenants…they had to have heard the commotion. Do not make contact. His wife was missing. It was a chance he would have to take.

  He left the apartment closing the door behind him and walked down the stairs to the first floor, stopping in front of Mrs. Koslofski’s apartment. The door was ajar. He pushed it open and stepped into the parlor. Chairs were overturned and lamps were lying on the floor amid broken knickknacks and shattered pictures. He looked into the bedroom and the small kitchen. Mrs. Koslofski was gone.

  Jan took several deep breaths and continued down to the ground floor. He tried the door to the Grucas’ apartment. It was the same…ransacked…they were gone.

  • • •

  The rain had stopped but an icy wind was blowing out of the north. Jan turned up the collar of his coat and headed down Ulica Reformaka. An elderly woman stood at the door of the next building, removing a key from her purse.

  Jan hesitated.

  The woman put the key in the lock and pulled the door open.

  “Pardon me, Madame,” Jan said, stepping forward.

  The woman glanced at him then moved quickly into the building.

  Jan held the door. “Please, Madame, I won’t hurt you.” The woman’s eyes were wide with fear as she backed away.

  Jan didn’t recognize her. He’d never been home long enough to meet the people in the neighborhood. He held the door open but stayed outside the building. “I’m a relative of the Grucas in the next building. Do you know them?”

  The woman shook her head, her back pressed against the inner door.

  “Please, Madame, I’m looking for the Grucas…do you know what happened?”

  The woman stared at him, her hand reaching around behind for the knob of the inner door. “It was the Germans,” she whispered. “They came last night very late.”

  “Did they arrest…?” Jan’s voice caught. “Did they arrest everyone?”

  The woman shook her head. “I don’t know. I saw the Germans…in the black uniforms…then I went to the cellar. I don’t know what happened.” She opened the inner door and disappeared inside.

  A half hour later Jan stood in the shadow of a large tree on the other side of Ulica Prusa looking at Thaddeus’s stately home. Fond memories of their traditional Wednesday night dinners came back, and he could almost hear the banter between Anna and her father.

  The lights were on but the curtains were drawn. He watched, looking for shadows, not really knowing why he had come. Were Janina and Henryk still here? How could t
hat be possible? And even if they were, how could they help him?

  He stepped off the curb to cross the street when the front door of the house opened. Slowly, Jan backed up, straining to see. A man stood on the porch and appeared to be fumbling in his pocket for something.

  Jan watched.

  The man turned back to the door, opened it and yelled to someone inside—in German. A moment later a woman appeared and handed him something. The man gave her a kiss on the cheek and stepped off the porch. Jan heard the woman yell after him. She wanted him to hurry back.

  Jan took another step back, into the shadows, watching as the German backed a Mercedes-Benz out of the driveway and headed down the street. The car stopped at the corner, waiting for a truck to pass. Jan glared at it, breathing rapidly, fighting the urge to dash into the street and drag the bastard out of the car. He closed his eyes and squeezed the handle of the briefcase. When he opened them the car was gone.

  Chapter 26

  ANNA LOOKED AT HER WATCH and glanced around the nearly empty hospital waiting room. She was getting nervous. When she arrived she had taken a pen and paper out of her handbag, written Irene’s name on it and handed it to the severe-looking woman at the reception desk. The woman stared at it for a moment then said something in Czech, motioning for Anna to have a seat. The woman made a telephone call and returned to her paperwork. That was twenty minutes ago.

  Anna stood up and stepped back to the desk, asking again, in German. “Irene Pavelka? Verstehen Sie? Irene Pavelka?”

  The woman looked over the top of her glasses then back down at her papers.

  “Irene Pavelka? Verstehen Sie?”

  The woman ignored her.

  Anna backed away from the desk, trying to control her anger, when she spotted a nurse in a crisp white uniform walking toward the elevators. She hurried over and caught her before the doors opened. “Excuse me. Sprechen Sie Deutsch?” she asked the young woman.

  The nurse nodded. “Ja. Can I help you?” Her German was heavily accented.

  Anna sighed. “I’m here to visit a friend, but I don’t speak Czech and I’m having trouble communicating with the woman at the reception desk.”