A Sparrow in Terezin

by Kristy Cambron

  “I see.” Sera nodded, then with caution said, “I thought you’d be at the estate house with the lawyers, getting ready for court.”

  “To be honest, so did I. Until I realized my future is here,” he said, and directed his gaze at her middle for a split second, then reconnected with her eyes. “With the two of you.”

  “And what does that change, William?”

  He stood in the center of the room, several steps away from her. But if she could judge him, Sera knew he wanted to cross the floor more than anything.

  “It changes everything for me.”

  “It does?”

  “Yes,” he answered, his voice heavy with feeling.

  “But why? Why couldn’t you just share who you really are with me? I wouldn’t have turned you away. I would have carried that burden with you.”

  He shoved his hands in his pockets in a boyish show of vulnerability and offered the softest of words: “I was scared.”

  He took another step forward.

  “When I met you, my whole world changed. You made me want to be a better man. You gave me the courage I’d always lacked. But I didn’t want to scare you away.”

  Sera’s hand went to her middle. She gave an embattled nod, thinking of the story Sophie had told her.

  Sophie was young once. She’d been innocent; a precious child, beautiful, wounded like all the rest in Terezin. And it was that story playing over and over again in her mind that urged her to take another step closer to William now.

  “I don’t need a reminder that I married a good man. Mine is a husband with a heart once wounded, and who just like me, will never be perfect. He needs someone to support him. Through the storm. He needs someone who will promise to weather it with him, no matter what comes.” She took another step, matching his, until they were no more than a foot apart. “I’m not afraid anymore.”

  “Me neither,” he whispered, reaching out to brush a lock of hair behind her ear. “But I owe you an explanation. And an apology—a hundred of them.”

  “I owe you one first.” She shook her head and taking a folded piece of paper from her pocket, offered it to him. “Remember this? The photo of the cross necklace? Your grandfather sent the necklace to Katie when he found out he had another granddaughter. It wasn’t worth much by the world’s standard, but I think he sent it to her because of how much it meant to him.”

  “I don’t understand. Where did it come from?”

  Sera let loose with a genuine smile. “The necklace belonged to Sophie’s adoptive mother. Would you believe that? She said it was a promise on a chain. Sophie kept it after her mother passed away. And do you know that when your grandfather approached her about changing the course of his grandson’s life by altering his will, she sent him that necklace as her promise to always help you should you need it. In his way, I think he was trying to say the same to Katie.”

  He held the paper in his hands, staring down at the image of the cross.

  “Am I always going to be offered redemption with you?”

  Sera thought how sorry she’d once been at the prospect of moving into the loft. But it didn’t matter now. As she nodded a yes to his question, she found herself enveloped in the strength of William’s arms. He kissed her. Whispered words of apology. Over and over.

  William drew back then and shook his head slightly.

  “What made you come back?”

  “You know I went to see Sophie.” She smiled. “Our old friend. And believe me, she thinks the world of you. She practically shoved me out the door when I realized I wasn’t ready to give up on us.”

  “She did?”

  Sera nodded.

  “I’ll have to thank her for that someday,” he added, smiling for the first time in what felt like weeks. She leaned in close and he touched his forehead to hers, squeezing his eyes shut on the moment. “You always had me, you know. Despite all of this. Despite who I was and no longer wanted to be. You’ve always had that part of my heart.”

  “I know.” The words were simple, but strong. “And I promise you, we’ll walk into that courtroom together, William. We’ll fight this and we’ll win.”

  William looked up. He stared back in her eyes and with what looked like genuine relief painting his features, whispered, “Sera, I pray we won’t have to.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  May 14, 1944

  Terezin

  The beautification of Terezin had been astounding to watch.

  In the months following the order that the camp should be readied for the International Red Cross’s visit, Kája found herself witness to nothing short of a miracle. The SS threw themselves into a fervor of civic improvements.

  The streets were cleaned. Broken windows replaced. Buildings were painted and flower boxes were built on nearly every corner. With Dane’s involvement, the Jewish Council oversaw the building of a community hall, the construction of theaters, and even a wooden music pavilion at the newly opened market square. The Jewish administration offices were renovated. The hospital was improved and a nursery school built. There were even real shops now, ones that stocked food and carts of vegetables and offered freshly baked bread doled out with rations. Even Kája’s little schoolhouse helpers were soon employed in nearly round-the-clock practice for a play that would be performed for the Red Cross.

  Kája was cleaning up the school for the night, long after the children had returned to their barracks. Sophie had fallen asleep on a bench near the stove and with only the last of the dirty paint water to dispose of, they were almost ready to go back to the attic room.

  She picked up the bucket, laboring to carry it toward the back door.

  “Kája.”

  She stumbled back at the sound of her name and gasped, almost dropping the bucket. She squinted in the dim moonlight that shone into the back room.

  “Dane?” She took a few steps forward when she recognized him. “What are you doing here?”

  “I had to see you.”

  “Why?” She took a quick glance around, making sure they were alone. “Is something wrong?”

  He nodded, wasting no time.

  “You’re on the transport list for tomorrow, you and your father.”

  “What?”

  Fear surged through her and she dropped the bucket to the ground. Water sloshed over the edge and ran down the side, creating a ring on the floor around it.

  “That can’t be. My father is part of the Jewish Council.”

  “It doesn’t matter. You know that. Edelstein was a co-chair of the Council of Jewish Elders and they still deported him last December. Or have you forgotten?”

  “What about the children?” she cried. “What will happen to them?”

  “They will go as well.”

  “My children? All of them?” It was too horrible to believe. “But why now, when the SS has done so much for the people here?”

  Dane grabbed her by the arms and shook her.

  “Don’t you see? It’s all been a ruse. They put in new sinks and bath houses, but none have pipes or running water. There is still painted plaster hanging in shop windows, there’s just more of it. And you’ve seen the camera crews, ja?”

  It was true. She had seen a camera crew moving around, shooting some sort of film about the camp. But she’d been too busy to think about why.

  “They are making a film for propaganda. They chose children. Gave them bread and butter as a treat, dressed them up with new clothes and smiles, and filmed how well the Jews are being treated here. There is even a route marked in the streets where the Red Cross will walk. They’ll see only what the SS wants them to see and nothing more! All the while, the camp is plagued with overcrowding. And as the Red Cross must see a model settlement, not a camp teeming with death and disease, thousands of Jews must go in order to make the lie believable.”

  Kája’s legs felt weak. She fell out of his grip and melted down to sit on a nearby crate.

  “And after all that we’ve done. We hung the children’s
artwork. And we built the theater. I even helped the children practice their lines for the play.” She shook her head. “I can’t believe it.”

  “You must.” He looked over his shoulder, then knelt by her side. “And we don’t have much time. I’ve come to get you out of here—tonight.”

  She turned to face him, her senses awakened by the fervency in his voice.

  “But how? There are too many of us—near a hundred in total. How could you possibly get us all out?”

  He shook his head and with sadness, she saw the light go out of his eyes with it.

  “Kája.”

  Realization dawned.

  He hadn’t come to get them out; he’d come for her.

  So that’s why he’d come so late. That’s why he was looking over his shoulder every few seconds, almost as if he expected guards to come charging down the alley. He was shaking, whether from fear or adrenaline she couldn’t be sure. But the meaning of why he’d shown up that night was abundantly clear.

  “You mean you’ve come for me alone.”

  “Yes.” He nodded sorrowfully. “I can’t let them take you. Not when I can do something about it.”

  “You realize what they’d do to you if you’re caught.”

  “We won’t get caught,” he issued firmly.

  It was brave for him to show up; she told herself this.

  He wasn’t audacious like Liam had always been, running toward danger all noble and brave. No, Dane had a quiet way about him. A solidness that for some reason drew him to her in this place. She longed for Liam. But had he forgotten about her? Was he even alive? She was plain and dirty, a ghost of a woman in a sea of yellow stars that flooded inside the walls of Terezin. Would he even have recognized her in this ocean?

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Don’t you?” He studied her face and then cautiously lowered his hand to hers. “I’ve never met anyone like you, Kája Makovský. You are fine and beautiful and strong. You make me want to be a different man and in the midst of all this, that is remarkable.”

  “Dane . . .” She wouldn’t let herself believe that his kindness was for her. Because he cared more than he should. She slid her hand out from under his. “I was promised to someone once.”

  He stared back at her, eyes raked by surprise.

  “I suspected that might be the case, though we’ve never spoken of it.”

  “Who speaks of such things in a place like this?” She looked around the dark supply closet and the alley beyond, where shadows lurked in every corner. “Who remembers yesterday or dares to dream of tomorrow? I don’t pretend to have a future. Not now.”

  “But you could, if you choose it.”

  She wished she could, but deep down, Kája couldn’t forget the picture of Liam Marshall, standing upon a train platform in Switzerland, still waiting for her. The dream of him was engraved upon her heart. And though he was but a memory and a good man stood before her now, there was nothing she could do to make herself forget.

  “Dane,” she whispered, and reached up to touch his cheek. “You are a good man. Surely God has seen what you’ve done for me and my father, and for the children in this place. We owe you our lives. You will always have my heartfelt gratitude, but I cannot give you more than that. And I can’t go with you, not when my children will have to go on alone.” She shook her head. “I won’t walk out on them.”

  He stepped back then, shaking his head. “Do you realize what you’re saying? You’ll be going to your death!”

  “I know.” Kája squeezed her eyes shut. Her hands trembled in her lap. “I’m trying not to think of it. But at least my children won’t be alone. I may know what is happening to us when we get off that train, but they won’t have to. Not until the end.”

  “You’re saying no.”

  “I must say no.” She nodded, just once, and opened her eyes again, adding, “But if you can take one person out, I beg of you to take someone and run, and never look back.”

  Dane backed away, shaken, and stood. “You’d give up your place for someone else?”

  “God help me.” Her entire body felt taken by tremors. “Yes.”

  “I see.”

  He studied her for another moment, then whispered, “They’ll notice I’m gone.”

  He went to the door but stopped short of stepping out into the night.

  “Dane?” She rushed up to him, whispering, “One more thing? Where does the transport go?”

  He looked sick about it, standing in the shadows with his hand fused to the doorknob. “Auschwitz.”

  God. Not Auschwitz.

  Not the place of my nightmares.

  “And you know what you’re doing, ja?”

  “Yes, I do.” She felt a cool breeze filter in and she turned her face to it, allowing it to caress her cheeks and lift the hair off her shoulders.

  “Kája, I can’t come back for you tomorrow. So you must be sure.”

  “I am. Take whomever you can and get them out of here.”

  After a last look between them, Dane turned and hurried off into the night. Kája stood in the alley with tears burning her eyes, watching until he disappeared into the shadows.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  Christmas Day

  Sausalito, California

  William turned when Sera walked up behind him.

  She handed him a mug of coffee and sat down next to him in the sand.

  He took a drink. “It’s good.” He warmed his hands around the sides of the porcelain.

  “Of course it is. It’s hazelnut.”

  “Your favorite.”

  “I thought you could use it.” Sera wrapped her Fair Isle sweater tight around her shoulders and shivered as a near icy wind blew in around them. It cut up from the choppy water, stirring the sand on a blast of air. “Especially since it’s as cold as it looks out here. Brr. How can you stand it?”

  “You should go in,” he said, and brushed a hand over her growing belly. “Please. I won’t be long.”

  Cold or not, William had been out on the beach for some time that morning.

  Sera had watched him from the moment he’d stepped out the back door of the estate house kitchen. He’d been on the phone with his father that Christmas morning—surprise, surprise—and had paced back and forth across the terrace for the duration of the call. It wasn’t until he’d walked off toward the beach and not returned that Sera had thought to go after him.

  She knew where she’d find him.

  “Everyone was getting worried.”

  He smiled. “Paul’s giving you a hard time because he has to wait to open his presents? Classic Christmas morning with the Hanovers. He drives Macie nuts with it every year—always guesses what she’s gotten him before he tears one piece of wrapping paper.”

  “I think our Penelope may be giving him a hard time this year.”

  Will arched an eyebrow. “Penny?”

  Sera nodded, feeling a smile appear at the thought. “I’ve been watching those two, and they bicker more than any two people I’ve ever seen. I guarantee that sometime in the future, Penny’s going to be a real aunt to our little one here—not just an honorary one.”

  “Really. Well, if you’re right, I’ll have the pleasure of watching Paul squirm under Penny’s glare for the next forty or fifty Christmases.” He returned her smile with a bit of boyish enthusiasm. “I’ll never need another present again.”

  “Believe it or not, it wasn’t the presents this time, or your younger brother that sent me after you. I think your mother was concerned.” She leaned in to his side and dropped her head to his shoulder. “I could see it in her face when you didn’t come back. She thought maybe you’d received bad news with the unexpected phone call.”

  William nodded and swung his free arm around her shoulder.

  “No bad news. Not this year, at least.”

  “I was really surprised that your father called this morning. What did he say?”

  “Well, let’s just say it was a Christ
mas gift I’d not expected to receive,” he answered, and drew in a deep, steadying breath. “He wanted to wish you a happy Christmas. And he said his lawyers are trying to convince the prosecutors to drop all the charges against me.”

  Sera’s head bumped his chin when she shot up, startled.

  “What?” She gripped the front of his shirt, scarcely able to believe what he’d just said.

  “I’m in a bit of shock myself. I knew they couldn’t have any real evidence against me, but that doesn’t mean someone didn’t transfer the art over to the company. You and I both know my father took the investors’ money and tried to filter it back through the company books. The lawyers are going to know that if it wasn’t me, it had to be someone at the top. He’s turning himself in to clear my name.”

  “Oh, Will. I don’t know what to say.”

  He turned and stared out over the toiling water, the hair on his forehead brushing back and forth with the ebb and flow of the sea air.

  “Are you all right?”

  “I am now,” he admitted, and ran a hand over the side of her face. “It’s not over—not by a long shot. And I won’t say my father is going as far as to admit his own guilt. He’ll have his lawyers working on it, I’m sure. He’ll do what he does best.”

  “But he would have let you go to prison for something you didn’t do? That doesn’t seem to be the man I met in London. He had love in his voice when he spoke about you and about Katie. About all of you.”

  Sera closed her eyes on the admission, feeling horrible.

  “I know what you’re thinking, love. You’re wondering whether I hate him for what he’s done.”

  Sera thought about arguing the point, then thought better of it. Instead, she glanced out at the storminess of the bay and leaned in closer to his side. She looked up, just enough to view his profile, and was rewarded with a smile that softened the corners of his mouth.

  “Your thinking is so loud I can hear it over the wind.”