A Flicker of Light

by Kagan, Roberta

  Siegland confided in a near-whisper, “We must be sure to hide these foods in the cellar in the barn. The Nazis better not find them because they forbid hoarding, but if it were up to them we would starve. If they had their way, they would take almost everything we have. Come, we will hide some of the onions and as much of the rest as we can. I will teach you to preserve these vegetables like we did the strawberries. It is the same with the vegetables as it was with the fruit. It is our way to keep this food fresh until we need it. You and I will do it at night when the SS won’t come, and then we will hide it away for when we need it. I know, sometimes I get so careless over the winter that I forget it is a crime to have this stuff, and I find I am using the onions every day instead of just for special occasions. But if the Gestapo found the cellar, it would be terrible. I’ve heard they kill people in those camps for crimes just like this. So we must do this very fast.”

  “Yes, you’re right. It should be done as soon as possible to avoid any trouble,” agreed Petra. The two women walked arm-in-arm across the yard to inspect the bushels of vegetables.

  “My knees are hurting me something awful, but we will get this done tonight,” Siegland vowed.

  “Don’t worry, Mama. I will take all of it down to the cellar while you watch Hans. Then later tonight, after the sun sets, I will bring the vegetables up one bushel at a time so that we can preserve them. Will that be all right?”

  “Yes, Petra. Sweet child - you called me Mama. Nothing could make happier. It will be a lot for you to carry. I will help you.”

  “No, please, I insist. I’ll do it. It’s not too heavy,” Petra smiled as she lifted a bushel and began to walk toward the secret cellar in the barn.

  Chapter 15

  Berlin, Germany, 1938

  W

  hen Aaron Gold walked the streets of his lower-income neighborhood, whispers trailed behind him. He had a reputation for being tough, and no one dared challenge him. Instead of attending school, he put on boxing gloves and went to the gym to blow off steam. His father, a tailor by trade, beat him mercilessly until Aaron grew bigger and stronger than he was. His father was a bully and a coward, so he only used his fists on those smaller and weaker than himself. The family spent their lives in debt because his father drank away what little cash he earned.

  Two days after Aaron’s fifth birthday, his mother passed away from a rare blood disease. He couldn’t remember much about her, only that she had loved and nurtured him more than anyone else ever had. In an anti-Semitic world, Aaron was a Jew, which meant that, with his temperament, he fought constantly. A loner, he had few friends and trusted no one. Keeping to himself, Aaron often paced like a panther through the streets late at night when he couldn’t sleep. As a child, he learned to pick pockets and steal to meet his needs.

  His first sexual encounter occurred with a prostitute fifteen years his senior. He sat on a bench on the outskirts of the park watching people on their way home from their daily tasks when she approached him. He found her quite attractive, so he agreed to go to her apartment. She took off her clothes, and for the first time he saw a naked female body. He watched, intrigued, as she moved, drawn by the very sight of her. He sat motionless on the bed. Her wide hips swayed as she slowly sauntered over to him. Without warning, she threw her long red hair back away from her face and straddled him. His manhood began to stir and she mounted him in seconds, taking him deep into the wonderful, mystical world of female sexuality. The feelings that shot through his body to his nerve endings overpowered him with shock and inconceivable pleasure. Passion raged within him as he surrendered to the wild feelings.

  After he’d finished, she demanded most of the money he’d brought with him. Aaron didn’t care; he would not argue, but he knew he’d never return to partake of her services again. However, that night he’d reached a milestone in his life; he had become a man in his own eyes. Now he knew what it meant to lie with a woman. Over the next year he spread his wings, exploring everything in his path. He took up a life of debauchery. Drinking to excess many nights, mornings often found him awake in strange surroundings. He engaged in sexual encounters with women whose faces and names he could not recall as his youth slipped away like sand through a fist. His intense emerald eyes and dark, shiny hair drove women to madness, and they found him irresistible.

  The parade of meaningless females became daunting. Unaware of how little his sexual escapades meant to him, the women continued in wishful pursuit of his love. They dressed in their prettiest clothes and went to the local tavern in search of him. With expensive gifts and sexual ploys, they attempted to lure him into marriage. But the alcohol and late nights deadened his senses so much that nothing moved him. One evening, when he was fifteen years old, as he wandered through the shadowy, less-affluent section of Berlin, smoking and avoiding the whores who beckoned to him from their windows, a group of four gentile boys approached him. They surrounded him, taunting and teasing, finding strength and courage in their numbers. One of the boys kicked his calf, and at the same time another tripped him.

  “Dirty pig of a Jew,” the boy said as he spit in Aaron’s face.

  The blow caused Aaron to lose his balance and he fell against the building. His shoulder made contact with the brick and he felt a sharp pain. Crazed with anger, he turned to the boys and punched one in the face. Then before the others even saw it coming, he picked up a huge tree limb that lay on the side of the street and began swinging it at the four. They backed off and began to move away, but Aaron would not let them depart easily. He pursued them with his weapon until they ran. Alone again, he tossed the branch away and walked back home.

  The following morning, his shoulder had exploded into various shades of black and purple. The excruciating pain grew ever stronger. Unable to lift his arm, Aaron finally gave in and went to see a doctor. As he filled out the paperwork, he wondered if he would have enough money to pay for the doctor’s services. He would have walked out had his shoulder not hurt so fiercely. After an hour in the waiting room, a nurse wearing a white starched dress and a proper white hat called him into the doctor’s office. The nurse told him to remove his shirt and to have a seat on the examining table. Aaron did as she asked and waited. Dr. Blumgarten entered with a chart in his manicured hand. A tall, slender man with dark hair sprinkled lightly with silver, the doctor exuded compassion and refinement.

  “What can I help you with today?”

  “My shoulder - I hurt it. I should ask you before you look at it how much it’s going to cost.”

  “Let’s have a look. I’m afraid I can’t give you a price until I see what’s wrong.”

  The doctor observed the injury, studying the depth of the bruising. Then, gently moving the arm up and down, he watched as the boy stifled cries of pain.

  “Is it broken?”

  “I don’t think so, just badly bruised. We’ll fix you right up and give you some painkillers to take until it heals.”

  “So, now, how much do I owe you?”

  The doctor looked at Aaron’s tattered clothing and decided that the boy had very limited finances. He and his wife had lost their two-day-old son only six months earlier, and somehow that made him feel close to this disheveled child wavering on the brink of manhood.

  “Would you like to work here? To help me?” Dr. Blumgarten asked.

  “I don’t know much about medicine. I don’t really know if I would be much help.”

  “Why don’t you let me be the judge of that? I could pay you a small salary, and of course, there would be no charge for today.”

  The idea of making some money appealed to Aaron. He’d never had a job or any funds he could rely on. It would be nice to leave the worries of a life of thievery behind him. He’d grown tired of finding victims who had enough money on them to make the crime worth his while. And as the economy sank further, he’d had more trouble doing so. He looked around the office and saw the cleanliness and organization. This might be interesting, he thought. If not, he could always walk
out. At least his fee today would be waived. His eyes locked with Dr. Blumgarten’s, and he agreed to take the job.

  Strangely, he saw something in the doctor’s face that made him want to stay. His longing for a real father when he was very young - someone he could rely on and talk to - had become nothing but a memory buried deep within his heart. Now, Dr. Blumgarten brought it back to the surface. It would be on this ordinary day, a day that began like so many others, that Aaron Gold’s life took an unexpected turn. Until now, Aaron had not really attended school regularly. Instead, he spent his time sleeping off nights of drunken depravity and waking up late, with the taste of cotton in his mouth, and the sound of drums and cymbals pounding in his head. But as he worked beside the doctor and watched as the older man saved the lives of those who came to him for help, Aaron decided that he would like to be like Dr. Blumgarten. As they came to know each other, the doctor proved to be a good listener and an exceptional friend. While they worked quietly together one late afternoon, Aaron was stitching a deep cut. The doctor smiled at him with pride. Aaron helped clean wounds and had learned to stitch with precision.

  “You could be a surgeon. Your hands are so strong and steady. Mine always trembled,” Dr. Blumgarten said.

  “Do you really think so?”

  “Yes, I know so. I can see how perfectly you stitch a wound.”

  “I learned from you,” Aaron smiled.

  The doctor patted Aaron’s back. A newly-acquired interest in school had taken root, and Aaron discovered that he had a high capacity for learning. With the help of Morris Blumgarten, the boy excelled in his lessons. The doctor taught him Latin and how it related to medical terminology. Together they studied mathematics, languages, and the arts.

  On the day of Aaron’s graduation, Dr. Blumgarten sat alone in the audience as he watched Aaron receive his diploma with honors. When the letter arrived at Aaron’s home saying he was accepted to the University of Berlin, he dashed to the medical office to share the good news with his best friend.

  Although Dr. Blumgarten willingly paid for part of his education; Aaron could not expect the doctor to support him entirely. Upon his arrival at university, Aaron knew that, unlike many of the other students, he would need a job to support himself. After unpacking his small bag of personal possessions he went into town to find work. Indian summer had brought a hot, smoldering sun that year. The trees had begun to shed their colorful leaves, and the ground looked like an oil painting as he walked the irregular cobblestone streets in search of employment. In a depressed economy, most people restricted their business help to family members. So Aaron walked from the restaurants to the cobbler, to the sewing machine repair shop, without success. His stomach grumbled with hunger. At the end of the street, he saw a bakery, and decided to go in and have a strudel and coffee. Anke and Ludwig Fassbinder, owned the establishment. A young couple, they struggled to work while caring for their two-year-old twin boys. It had become difficult for Anke to watch the front of the shop while Ludwig did the baking with the babies crying and in need of constant attention. While Aaron enjoyed his afternoon pastry, he watched as the woman made a gallant effort to keep pace with the demands put upon her.

  “Ma’am, may I help you? I am pretty good with children. I’m attending the university, studying medicine, and have worked a lot with little ones,” Aaron offered.

  “Yes, thank you. I would love the help.”

  While Aaron entertained the boys, he talked with their mother about how he needed work. She told him that she would discuss the matter with her husband, and let him know if they would have a position for him if he came back the next morning.

  At eight o’clock in the morning, Aaron arrived at the Fassbinder bakery, and Anke greeted him warmly.

  “Would you like to help out in the bakery, serving customers, stocking the shelves and with the children when needed, as well?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  “It’s settled, then; you’re hired.”

  Aaron flashed a white smile at Anke, and for a moment she wished a fairy could throw dust on her, making her a single woman again, if just for a night.

  In his second year attending the University of Berlin, Aaron met a girl. Greta Zietlman was petite, with dark, wavy hair and light brown eyes. She had attracted him from the first moment he saw her. He sat eating his lunch under the shade of a weeping willow tree when she walked out of the red brick science building. A breeze passed through the courtyard on that spring afternoon, and the wind caught her hair, forcing it back from her face like a wild caress. Watching as she and her girlfriend sat on the grass beneath a statue and unpacked their lunch, Aaron decided that he must meet her. His attraction made him shy, and he racked his brain for something clever to say as he sat staring across the field. This was so unlike him. In the past, Aaron could turn on the charm in seconds, but not now; not with her. His mind fogged up, leaving him at a loss, as he sat and stared, enraptured. While he tried desperately to think of a clever opening line, the girls stood to leave. Before he could follow them, her maple-syrup-colored hair disappeared into a crowd of students.

  For weeks he continued to show up at the same place, with the hope that she too would return, but she didn’t. He finally gave up hope of ever seeing her again, and just then she materialized. As he walked up the stairs into the science building, she walked out the door. They met face-to-face at the top of the steps. His clever wit deserted him. He had nothing to say. Yet he could not let her get away again. This could very well be his only chance.

  “Excuse me. Is this the science building?” he asked. It was a foolish question. A large sign above the door right in front of them said: College of Science. Still he could think of nothing else.

  ‘Yes, it is.”

  “Oh. I’m afraid I am a little lost can you help me find a classroom please?” Aaron asked, feeling ridiculous.

  “I’m sorry. I must go to my class. I am sure someone in there can help you.”

  “Wait, please. That was a rather lame way of saying hello. I feel like a fool, but I have seen you around campus, and, well, you’re so pretty that I wanted to meet you.”

  Flattered by the genuine nature of the compliment from this man with his good looks and haunting sexuality, she smirked, “You are certainly bold aren’t you?”

  “I don’t mean to be. I just couldn’t be sure I would ever see you again,” Aaron stammered.

  “Hmmm, very interesting, indeed. So what’s your name?’

  “Aaron Gold. And may I ask yours?”

  “You may, but I may or may not tell you.”

  But as she watched his bright smile and looked into his powerful green eyes, she couldn’t help but be attracted to him. “Greta Zietlman.”

  “I am very pleased to meet you, Greta Zietlman.”

  “Well, thank you, Aaron Gold.”

  “I would love to buy you lunch, perhaps at a little restaurant near campus?”Aaron asked.

  “Well, I do have a class, but if you’re willing to wait until afterwards, then perhaps.”

  “I’ll wait. Where can I find you?”

  “How about right here?” Greta said.

  “Yes, that would be fine. I’ll wait for you here.”

  He did not attend his class. He had a lab that made for a longer period, and he was afraid that he would not be back in time. If he missed her he was sure that he would not have another chance. So he sat for two hours on the stairs of the science building. When she did not return after so long, though, he began to feel like a fool. Looking around, he did not see her, so he gathered his books to head home. He descended the stairs and then began to walk away from the science building.

  “Aaron Gold!” the voice rang like church bells from across the field. “I thought you said you would wait.” With a dazzling smile, she approached him and handed him her books, which he gladly carried.

  “I’m sorry. I thought I might have been stood up,” Aaron said.

  His sincerity touched her heart, and she
smiled up at him as the sun reflected in her eyes.

  Greta seemed to be like no other girl he had ever been with. Her cashmere sweater and wool skirt left no doubt that she came from a wealthy family. But that meant nothing to Aaron. His fascination with her came from the emotions she brought out in him. She was spoiled and selfish, but she was also cultured, intelligent and well read. They talked for two hours, and Aaron missed the rest of his classes that day. On the walk back to campus, he felt something within him stir.

  “Would you like to have lunch again tomorrow?” Aaron asked.

  “Yes, same time?”

  “Yes, that’s fine. Would you like to meet at the same place?”

  “Sure, I’ll be there,” Greta said, and she smiled.

  The rest of the day, Aaron felt weightless, as though he’d been infused with helium and floated high above the world. His heart fluttered and his mind could not focus on anything but the girl with the flashing brown eyes. Unlike the women he’d spent his youth carousing with, Greta had class. She would be considered a lady by anyone she encountered. She knew which fork to use and what to say. Her upbringing had taught her to appreciate the arts and to dress with the finest of taste.

  For weeks, the lunch dates continued. Aaron missed more classes, but he didn’t care. He could not stop thinking of Greta. In many ways she reminded him of Mrs. Blumgarten. Since he emulated the doctor, he felt that Greta would be the perfect mate for him. One afternoon, she asked him to go with her to the symphony. “I have tickets for a Wagner opera. Would you like to take me?”

  “Yes, of course. When?”

  “Tonight, silly. You can pick me up at my dormitory room at six; we’ll have a quick dinner. There’s a restaurant I have wanted to try, so we’ll go there and then off to the theater.”

  “I’ll be there.” His feet felt magically airy, as if standing beside her, talking, he’d grown wings. With a lightness to his step he took off, already late to his next class.