by Liz Tolsma
“God will take care of me.”
Teodor clung to the donkey’s reins. “Are you sure?”
“Positive. Now get going.”
Teodor slapped the reins on the donkey’s rump once more. At last the cart’s wheels creaked and turned, and they plodded down the road, away from Pieśń Nabożna, away from the factory, and away from the doctor who had saved them.
Toward home.
Right now, he refused to think about what awaited them there. He had Natia. That’s all he needed.
But he also had another woman and a child with them. A little one. A family. That’s what Natia had called them. A child of their own. Wouldn’t Pani Fromm want the boy? And wouldn’t Natia’s heart break into pieces when the German woman kept him for herself?
And his own heart? It would break too. They were so close to being a real family.
His head throbbed and he rubbed his temple. He swayed as the world spun around him.
Natia propped him upright. “That’s enough. I’ll take over. Get some bread and water.”
His cheeks burned. “I’m sorry.”
“Why? They’ve almost worked you to death.”
“That was their goal. But I need to take care of you. You, Dominik, and Pani Fromm.”
“You can best take care of us by taking care of yourself and getting your strength back.” Natia’s green eyes stood out in her hollow face.
“You haven’t been eating well either.”
“Better than you. There isn’t much to go around for anyone these days. Not even the Germans.” She glanced away.
She didn’t tell him the truth. At least, not all of it. For now, he let it slide.
“Here.” She reached inside a rucksack and produced a loaf of bread. One whole entire loaf. Small, but more than one piece. “Don’t overeat.”
Laughter burst unchecked from his lips. “That’s not likely.”
“I just got you back.”
He rubbed her hand. “Moje slońce, don’t be so serious. I’m not going to leave you. Not ever.” But could he guarantee that? He glanced over his shoulder. Nie, he wouldn’t rest until they crossed the lines into Soviet-held territory. Not until he walked onto his own farmland and stepped through the door to his home. By now, the Germans who took it must have fled.
His wife pulled him close, and he cuddled against her. How good to be back in her arms where he belonged. This day, the one he feared might never come, had arrived. That’s what he needed to focus on. That, and getting them safely home.
A low rumble sounded ahead of them, the noise of many engines splitting the silent winter’s night. Fromm had found them. He’d been bound to.
And he’d brought an entire battalion with him, judging by the noise of the approaching convoy. “We have to find cover.”
Natia grasped the donkey’s reins. “But where? There’s nothing around.” Her voice trembled.
He squeezed her. “There’s a light ahead. See. And I can make out the shadow of a barn.”
“We’ll never get there before the trucks reach us.”
Not with the donkey, that was for sure. Natia brought the animal to a halt. “We’ll have to run. There’s no time to waste.”
Teodor scrambled down and reached back to assist Pani Fromm and Dominik. How would he be able to keep up with them when he could barely walk? He stumbled backward.
“This not work.” Pani Fromm’s words were steady. Even in the darkness, her blue eyes held a steely light.
“What other options do we have?”
“This not work. You go down there.” The German woman pointed to the ditch beside the road. She must not have understood what they had been talking about.
“They’ll see us. The baby will cry.” Her plan was terrible.
“They not see you. I tell them I am going home. They help me and leave you alone.”
The drone of engines approached, and the light in the distance flickered and went out. Making a dash for the safety of the barn was out of the question.
Pani Fromm motioned them away. “Go, go.”
Natia handed him the baby, then turned to her slave master. They embraced far too long, sniffling back tears. What could Natia be thinking? She needed to take cover.
Paper-covered headlights swept around the curve in the road and gave off a dim light.
“Natia, now.”
Elfriede embraced Natia, holding her close for as long as she dared. What would she do without this woman in her life? This one who understood the deepest part of her soul?
She squeezed Natia, and the baby let out a squeal.
Dominik. She was about to lose him. But it had been inevitable. Keeping him had been an impossible dream. Not with Erich for a husband. And not once they knew the secret of Dominik’s identity.
But without the boy, her life would be dark. Empty. Void.
She had to do this. Let him go for his own good. Give him the family she couldn’t.
The pain in her heart stole her breath.
The rumble underneath their feet increased, tickling her soles. If Erich wasn’t among the approaching trucks, her plan would work. She had to do this for Dominik. And Natia.
Tears streaked down her cheeks as she rubbed Natia’s bony back. “Dzięki for all you teach me. You are my friend. I not forget you. Ever.”
Natia’s own tears dampened Elfriede’s cheek. “Good-bye, my friend, good-bye. God go with you. May he bless you and watch over you. Dzięki for helping me.”
With a quick kiss on each of Elfriede’s cheeks, Natia disappeared into the night, ripping Dominik away.
Elfriede wiped the moisture from her face as she climbed into the cart. Please, Lord, keep Dominik quiet. Keep them all safe. And may Erich not be in any of those vehicles.
The motorcade came ever closer. She licked her dry lips and swallowed hard. No doubt they would hear the thrumming of her heart in her chest.
Several trucks passed and a motorcycle, not even slowing to help what appeared to be a lone woman stranded at the side of the road at night. Then an automobile braked and halted beside her.
A lanky officer dressed in his olive-gray uniform stepped from the car. “Papers.”
The world around Elfriede spun. Why hadn’t she thought about that? With running out of the house, she hadn’t grabbed any identification. Then again, it was best not to let this man know who her husband was.
Her husband, her hunter.
She stiffened her spine. If her voice didn’t break, she could pull this off. “I am so thankful you stopped. Here I am, trying to get away from these awful Soviets, and all I could find was this donkey cart. And the animal has no intention of moving.”
The man looked her in the eyes for the first time. “You are German?”
“Ja. Weeks ago, my husband warned me to leave, but I didn’t want to be without him. By the time I heeded his advice, it was too late to get a train. Can you help me?”
“I will still need to see your papers.”
In the darkness he wouldn’t notice her bat her eyelashes, so instead she honeyed her voice. “I am Frau Eisinger.” Elfriede used a name Erich had thrown around as a couple they should admire, a soldier loyal to the cause and a woman loyal to her husband. “There is no time to stand on formalities. I’m fleeing the Russians, as are you. All I want is to return to the fatherland and await the war’s outcome. Surely you can help a fellow German, and a woman at that. Isn’t that what a true German would do?”
“I shouldn’t because we were told to be on the lookout for a woman accused of hiding Jews.”
So Erich hadn’t given up on finding her. “As you can see, I’m all alone. So very, very alone.”
Dominik picked that moment to let out a squeak. Elfriede held her breath. Natia must have shushed him in record time because he didn’t make another sound.
Just as Elfriede released the air from her lungs, the officer moved around the cart toward the group in the ditch.
“Just an old cat on its last legs. I
heard it a few times while I waited for help. The poor thing won’t last until morning.” Would any of them? “No need to bother. I’m terribly cold. Could you please give me a ride to the next town?”
The soldier broke off his pursuit of the sound and returned to her side. “Get your things. I’ll take you.”
“I fled my home with no time to spare. I have nothing.”
“Climb in, then.”
With everything inside of her, Elfriede worked to avoid turning for one last good-bye to the people who had come to mean so much to her. The loss stabbed her with a physical pain, and she gasped.
She climbed inside the automobile, the warmth from the engine enveloping her. As she sank into the seat, she attempted to peer out the window. Nothing but blackness. Good. The rumble of engines faded in the distance. No more approached. The little group would be safe, and the donkey and cart would still be there for them to continue their journey.
As the soldier shifted into gear and pulled onto the roadway, Elfriede relaxed. Dear Lord, please go with them. And with me too. Don’t desert me.
Because without him, she would be alone in the world.
Pawel sat at his desk, papers scattered across it. Fromm’s work. Since Antonina had left, all the order had gone out of his life. Nothing was as it should be. He sighed. Antonina, his love. Where was she? As the Soviets closed in, more time passed between words from her.
When would he see her?
Teodor and Natia had been reunited. Ah, to witness such young love. He and his wife had once been that way. As the years passed, they had settled into their comfortable routine and taken each other for granted. At least he had.
But that would change once they were together, once he held her in his arms. He would thank her for each meal she cooked and tell her how delicious it tasted. He would compliment her on how beautiful she looked, every day, no matter what. He would talk to her and never stop, because all too soon the time would come when there would be no more words.
Cherish her. That’s what he would do. If only he could get her back. When she’d left, they hadn’t thought about her return and how they would find each other. They hadn’t counted on still being in German-occupied lands with a swath of Soviets between them.
Pawel groaned. Would life ever be the same?
How had it come to this? The grand plans he had at the beginning of the war, how he would fight the Germans who stole his son and make his only child proud, had been for naught. Tak, there had been a few he had aided, but not enough. Not nearly enough.
So many thousands, maybe even millions, of his countrymen lay cold in their graves, the Polish ground bathed by their blood. And his aid to them had been so small, so insignificant.
As he rose from the chair, it creaked. He straightened the papers on his desk, then turned and swiped a layer of dust from the books on the shelf behind him. He wandered into the bedroom and picked up the clothes that lay in a pile in the corner. When he opened the wardrobe to hang them, he caught a whiff of Antonina’s scent. Though time had diminished the potency of the fragrance, the odor of jasmine tickled his nose.
He slammed the door.
In the kitchen he swept up the broken dishes from the tile floor and wiped the counters. Once he had the kitchen returned to order, he sat in the old brown armchair beside the front window and peered into the gathering darkness.
He would wait for whatever came next. His hands didn’t tremble or sweat. When a man strode up the path to the house, Pawel went and opened the door before he knocked.
Pan Fromm’s eyes glinted in the light streaming from the house, and he stood ramrod straight. “You’ve been expecting me.”
“What do you want?” Pawel’s words escaped on a sigh.
Fromm pushed by him. “Where are they?”
Pawel clamped his lips shut.
“Tell me now or face the consequences. You weren’t delivering a baby; you were helping my wife escape with those Poles and that Jew. Where are they?”
Still, Pawel’s heart didn’t beat any faster than normal.
Fromm struck him across the cheek, and he stumbled backward. But better to hold on to his secret than tell Fromm what he knew. If he concealed the information, Fromm wouldn’t kill him. Not until he learned his wife’s location.
“I demand you tell me where they went. You were part of their escape.” Fromm leaned in, his hot breath on Pawel’s face. “I’ll go so far as to say you were the mastermind. All this time, we allowed you to live because you were of use to us. But you were the brains of the entire operation, weren’t you? Weren’t you?”
Pawel remained statue still.
Fromm shoved Pawel into his chair, pulled his handgun from its holster, and waved it in circles. “Don’t you dare move or I’ll fire. They’re here somewhere, and I’m going to find them. And then—” He blasted a shot into the ceiling, plaster raining on the tile floor.
The man had gone mad. Still clutching the pistol and aiming it somewhat in Pawel’s direction, he pulled the cushions from the couch and overturned the end table. Then he grabbed Pawel and, with the barrel of the gun in his back, Fromm forced Pawel into his office.
“They’re here. Where have you hidden them?” He swiped the books from the shelves and worked to move the bookcase. “This has to open. You’ve hidden them behind here. I know it. I can smell them.”
Pawel choked back the laughter rising in his throat. Apparently Fromm didn’t have the best nose.
Room by room they went like this, Fromm flashing the gun in Pawel’s face as he ransacked the entire house for the second time today. And Pawel stood and watched without a tremor passing through his body. This absence of fear was strange. He should be terrified, but he wasn’t. He had plenty to hide, and Fromm would find it if he conducted a less frantic search.
This sensation must be from God. There could be no other explanation. Pawel enveloped himself in it, a cocoon to protect himself from Fromm’s craziness.
Maybe Józef experienced this peace too, as his life came to an end, right in this very room, with his mother and father as onlookers. How they had scrubbed the tiles to wash away his blood.
If Pawel could just be sure that his son had not been frightened. He closed his eyes and brought the horrific scene to mind once more. This time, as the events played out, he concentrated on his son’s face.
Ah, the smile. He’d forgotten Józef’s smile as the Nazi raised his gun.
A joy because he knew where he was going.
And now, Pawel could go to the same place with the same joy.
When Fromm turned up nothing in the last room, he stuck the pistol in Pawel’s chest and pulled the trigger.
And there was Antonina again, her blonde hair swept away from her face, leaning over him, kissing him, then standing and smiling at him with that sweet smile she reserved only for him.
Welcoming him home.
Natia covered Dominik’s mouth to keep him from crying as the car carrying Elfriede pulled away. Beside her, Teodor shivered. Was he only cold, or did he fear what lay in front of them?
Silence fell. In winter no crickets sang, no frogs croaked. The world remained as still as death.
Time went by, maybe a few minutes or a few hours. However long, Natia’s heart must have thudded a million times until Teodor moved beside her and rubbed her back. “That was close.” He dared to give a low chuckle.
“I didn’t understand all of what Elfriede said, but whatever it was, it worked. She saved our lives.”
He pulled her to her feet, and she situated Dominik on her hip. His eyes wide, he stared at Teodor. Natia pointed at him. “That’s Tata.” How delicious the word.
Dominik nestled against Natia’s neck and sucked on his thumb. “He’ll get used to you. He’s the sweetest boy.” And hers. Theirs. No one would rip him from them now. Elfriede was on the run and didn’t know where she would end up.
Standing there in the cold, moonless night, hunted by the Germans, Natia giggled, then laughed,
then guffawed.
“I think you’ve gone crazy, moje slońce.” Teodor’s soft voice held a note of concern.
“He belongs to us. Don’t you see? We have a son. A little boy all our own. He’s not going to end up on the hill with the others. He’s a real, living, breathing child. For all time, we’ll be a family.”
Teodor kissed her behind her ear, and a different kind of shiver shot through her. “I couldn’t be happier than I am in this moment.”
The Lord had restored her joy. But it wouldn’t be complete until she stood on the land that belonged to them. She pulled her husband close. “Let’s go home.”
“I would love nothing more.”
Natia scrambled out of the ditch, her legs burning by the time she reached the road. She turned to Teodor, who struggled on the incline. He wasn’t the strong, virile man she had known and loved almost her entire life.
Once she had Dominik packed into the cart and covered with layers of blankets, she went to help her husband.
“How are we going to do this when I don’t have the strength to get out of a ditch?” He stared at his feet, his shoes held together with rags tied around them.
How would they? Two half-starved people with a small child and only a vague idea of how to get home. The odds said they wouldn’t make it. Dominik shifted in the cart. “Mama, Mama.”
A well burst inside her. Their dream lay within reach. The farm, the two of them, and their child. “We haven’t survived so long to give up now. This is not the Teodor I know. That man wouldn’t let everything he wanted slip through his fingers. He wouldn’t give up.” She grasped him by the hand and pulled until he stood on the road. “That’s the first step.”
He caressed her cheek. “I should be the one taking care of you.”
“Between the two of us, we’ll find the strength we need. That’s what marriage is about. I made vows too that day we were joined into one. Let’s see if we can get this donkey moving so we both can ride for a while.”
They climbed aboard, and Teodor snapped the reins on the animal’s backside. She must have had enough of standing in the cold, because the cart creaked forward. Maybe not at the pace they would have liked, but in the right direction nonetheless.
