by Liz Tolsma
Could it be?
A shaft of sunlight pierced the clouds. “I love him.” She leaned against the wall, her knees weak.
“Yes, that’s what has been in your heart these past weeks. What makes you not eat or sleep.” Maria grinned. “I’ve watched you. I knew. Your grandmother did, too. We all did.”
“I thought love made you happy.”
Babička pulled back a stray strand of gray hair. “This love frightens you.”
Anna rubbed the plastered wall. “Loving him is forbidden. It’s dangerous. Impossible. What kind of future do we have? And I question if I can trust him.”
“At some point, the war will end. You’ll be free once more, free to love him.”
“If we survive that long.”
“God has protected us this far.”
“And how much longer will He watch over us? How long can we hold out? What if the war ends in victory for the Germans?”
“You are borrowing trouble.”
“Trouble has found me.”
Babička moved back to the table. For a moment, she sat and caught her breath. “I remember your mother as a child. So beautiful she was. Like you. She sat beside me on the piano bench, hour after hour, as I played. As she watched me, she laughed. She plunked out the melody, her tiny fingers stretched to reach the next key. And do you know what I thought about at those times?”
Anna shook her head.
“I wished for her to hurry and grow up, so I could listen to her play some of those same songs. And I got my wish. Before I knew it, she developed better tone and technique than me. Then she met your father, got married, and left the house. It was empty and silent. And I longed to have her next to me on the stool.”
“And now she’s gone. My pain is your pain.”
Babička drew out the handkerchief she tucked underneath her watchband and dabbed at the moisture gathered in the corners of her eyes. “Don’t worry about tomorrow. Each day has enough worry of its own.”
Anna recognized the passage from the book of Matthew.
“Cherish today before it flits away. Horst is a changed man. Love him, and don’t let this chance at happiness slip through your fingers. Your parents wanted this for you.”
But how could she give herself to a man who had done the things Horst did?
Horst sat still on the cart’s seat, clutching the horse’s reins until his hands went numb. Could Stefan tell this wagon had a false bottom? Did he somehow know David lay inside? The straw. Had he covered up the opening well enough?
Stefan called to him again. “Farmer, halten sie. I want to inspect your load.”
Horst pulled his slouchy hat farther down, over his face more, and stroked his beard. If he spoke, Stefan would recognize him. Instead, he nodded and tugged on the reins. The horse came to a stop.
“Climb down.”
Horst obeyed the order. Why was Stefan even here? He liked to come, true enough, and enjoyed the power he had over the residents here. Now, he carried a rifle with a bayonet. Why? Perhaps the higher-ups had transferred him. Perhaps he’d taken the job first offered to Horst.
Stefan approached him. “Papers.” His cold tone froze Horst to the core.
He produced the identification booklet, holding his breath. It had passed muster before. Would it now? Stefan was nothing if not meticulous.
“What is your business here?”
Great. Now he had to answer. “Delivery.” He mumbled as much as possible.
“Speak up.”
“Delivery.” A nice, halting German accent. Believable, he hoped.
Stefan stepped right in front of Horst, nose to nose. “My patience with you is wearing thin. I want answers to my questions. What kind of delivery?”
Horst’s mouth went dry. Under his beard, his upper lip sweat. Was this the fear Anna experienced when he first moved in? “Potatoes.”
“That’s all?”
“Ja.”
“Then let me see.”
“Already delivered.”
“Empty sacks.”
“In the kitchen.” Too much talking. Stefan would see through the disguise and the fake accent soon enough.
“Then let’s see what’s under that straw.”
Trying to stop Stefan from searching the back of the cart would only serve to raise his suspicions. Horst gritted his teeth and put on as nonchalant a front as he could muster. He stroked the horse’s nose to calm himself as much as the animal.
Stefan climbed in the back. With his bayonet, he stabbed at the straw. Would it penetrate the cart’s wooden bottom? Injure David huddled underneath?
God, blind his eyes.
Stefan kicked at the straw. Horst’s pulse raced. Stefan could uncover the trap door. When he did, he would lift it and find David.
Would he bother to arrest them or shoot them on the spot?
Mutti, sweeping glass from the watchmaker’s shop’s floor. Vater, demanding he be a man and serve his country. Anna, trembling in his arms, her brown eyes wide. All of this flashed through his mind in a split second.
Stefan grunted. “Nothing here. I thought for sure.” He hopped down and pointed at Horst. “I’m going to be watching you from now on. See this eagle on my hat?” He pointed to it. “Like an eagle, stalking you until I catch you in the act. I know I’ve seen you before. And we will meet again.”
With that, Stefan marched off, his hands clenched at his sides.
Horst couldn’t scramble into the cart fast enough. They had to get out of here. He picked up the leather reins and slapped the horse’s back. The ancient mare plodded down the street. Couldn’t she increase her pace? The farmer should have given him a faster nag.
Each step, though maddening in its slowness, brought him closer to the gate. After a few minutes, though to Horst it could have been an hour, they arrived at Theresienstadt’s entrance. The only way in. The only way out.
The same guards that permitted him to pass earlier stopped him now. They performed the same gut-checking inspection as Stefan.
One of the soldiers stopped after one stab in the straw. “Quiet. I think I heard something.”
All three of them stood stock still. Had one of them injured David? Did he cry out in pain? Nein, Lord, protect him under there. Keep him safe. And hidden.
The stockier of the soldiers broke the silence. “You’re hearing things. No contraband here. Let him go.”
“I know I heard a sound. Like a groan.”
Or a cough. If David could just have remained silent a few minutes more.
“You have a vivid imagination.” The one guard nodded to Horst. “Proceed.”
He hopped back up and drove that nag as fast as she would go. Unlike Lot’s wife, he didn’t dare turn back. He hoped never to see that miserable cesspool again.
Not until at least half an hour went by did he stop. By then, he figured them to be far enough away that if David’s absence was noted, they had a good head start. But with his excuse from work, no one should notice until tomorrow. And with the rate of death in the camp, he doubted anyone would care.
He pulled off to the side of the road and slowed the horse. Unsure of what he might find, he climbed in the back, brushed away the straw, and slid the trap door open.
David uncoiled and climbed out of the small hole. A grin stretched across his thin face. “That was quite the adventure.” He swiveled and surveyed the Czech countryside. He whistled. “Look at all of this. Open fields. Evergreen trees. Birds singing. There is beauty left in this world.”
“Not much of it.”
“Much better than that hole where you Germans condemned me and tens of thousands of others.”
“I wish I could have taken more men.”
“Is it safe for me to ride up front with you?”
It must be horrible, crammed in that tiny space kilometer after kilometer. “Maybe for a little while.” No one used the road much.
David climbed beside him. “Why did you rescue me?”
“Because what
my countrymen are doing to you is wrong. Atrocious. Unforgivable. I myself sent more than one person there.”
“You want to absolve yourself, then?”
“Maybe. I don’t know.”
“Are you sweet on my sister?”
Horst didn’t answer, either out loud to David or in his own heart.
“Where are we going? This isn’t the way to Prague.”
“We moved. I’ll tell you about it as we go along.”
By the time they neared the farmhouse on the outskirts of the tiny country hamlet, he’d related the entire story. Every sordid detail, including his own involvement in it. The young man beside him didn’t interject a single comment. Not that Horst expected him to.
The farmhouse came into view, a sloping roof crowning the top of the white stucco home. He pulled into the yard. Before he’d even stopped, Anna raced from the house, her blue skirt flapping.
David climbed down, his steps slow and measured. His sister reached him and flung herself into his arms. Hopefully none of the neighbors witnessed the reunion.
Anna and her brother hugged each other, their sobs reaching Horst’s ears. For a long, long time they stood there, clinging to each other.
David stepped back, pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, and coughed into it. He drew it away, but Anna caught him by the wrist. A red stain marked the white fabric.
She blanched. “What is this?”
Anna stepped away from her brother, unable to believe her eyes. Here he stood, in front of her. In the flesh. Could it really be him? She reached out and touched him.
Ne, she didn’t dream. He was here.
Horst did it. Snuck her brother out of that miserable place. She itched to pick up a violin and play. The music, so long gone, flooded her.
Then David coughed and pulled away the handkerchief red with blood.
Oh God, ne.
The melody inside her dimmed. “What’s wrong, David? Please, tell me.” Her stomach clenched.
“Let’s enjoy our reunion. There will be plenty of time for other talk later. Nothing but happiness now.”
She swallowed hard but nodded. “This is a time for joy. Wait until Babička sees you. She’ll never get over it.”
“How is she?” David walked to the house, his steps slow and careful.
“She’s an old woman, and all of this has been hard on her. No one of her age should be forced to live like this. The move has taken its toll.”
David pulled her into a side hug as they strolled. “I never thought I’d see any of my family again. Táta waved to me as I watched the guards close the train doors. The last glimpse I had of any of them.” He glanced at the sky as two fat tears rolled down his sunken cheeks.
“How were they?”
“You know them.” David gave a wry laugh and wiped his eyes. “I didn’t see Máma and the girls much, but Táta, I did. He spoke to me about God, about God’s protection. God didn’t protect them. They’re dead.” Another tear dribbled down his face.
Anna pulled her brother to a stop and stood in front of him. She stroked his hollow cheek. “Táta would say God did protect them.”
David scrunched his heavy eyebrows. “I don’t understand. How is that?”
“The Lord brought them to heaven. They are safe with Him now. No more harm will ever come to them. No more tears. No more hardship. Nothing but peace and joy.”
“I want to believe. But look around you. Is this what God wants for us?”
Behind her, a door banged open. “David? Is that you? Come here, my child, and let me see you.” Anna turned. Babička stood in the entryway and motioned to her grandson.
David moved forward into his grandmother’s embrace. Anna clutched her chest. How good this was for Babička. Perhaps it would revive her. Give her a reason to live once more.
Horst joined her. “I think she’s happy to see him.”
“How did you do it? How did you get him out?”
“Our plan worked with only one hitch or two.”
“Something went wrong?” Patricie caught up to them.
“I met Stefan.”
Anna sucked in her breath. “You what?”
“He stopped me on the street. I had already tucked David under the straw.”
“He didn’t recognize you?” Patricie widened her eyes.
“Ne. Your disguise was perfect. The beard, the hat, and the clothes. No flicker of recognition crossed his face. Let me tell you, I held my breath the entire time. The Lord watched over me, that’s for sure. I thought he would remember my voice, but he didn’t.” Horst’s face lit up like a child’s on Christmas morning.
They came to the house, and Patricie entered. Anna tugged on Horst’s rough wool shirt and halted him. She wanted to hold him, but resisted the urge. Instead, she smiled. “Děkuji, děkuji. I cannot thank you enough for what you did for David.”
“I did it for you.” He bit his lower lip. “To put that grin back on your face. To make the music sing in your heart again. Wait here. I have a surprise for you.” He ran back to the wagon and opened the trap door.
Did her eyes deceive her? Was that . . . ?
He sprinted toward her and held out a violin case. David’s?
“I know it’s not yours, but perhaps he’ll let you play it.”
She took it, loving the weight of it in her hands. But no song danced in her head. The music, long absent, refused to come. “Perhaps he’ll play for us.”
“I would love for you to.” Horst’s voice was husky.
“And Paní Karas might set out a welcome home feast if we ask her.”
“Ah, Anna.” He brushed a lock of hair from her cheek.
A shiver raced down her spine.
He leaned over, ready to kiss her.
She licked her lips, a buzz about her. Then she turned from him. Not yet. She couldn’t let him that close yet.
Babička opened the farmhouse door. “Anna, Horst, come in, come in. David wants his violin so he can play us a piece Egon Ledeč composed in the camp. Good, you have it.” She motioned them inside.
Horst whispered to her as they entered. “I’ll talk to you later.”
She presented David’s violin to him and settled next to Horst on the sofa to hear her brother play. The warmth of Horst’s body seeped inside her.
David, very, very thin and frail, nonetheless coaxed a tune from his instrument, a lusty, boot-tapping, skirt-swinging Czech folk song. The group clapped along in time to the music. He played two more smooth, upbeat tunes before slumping onto an empty chair. They applauded.
“That is enough for now. I cannot play more than that.”
The cold dread which had gripped her outside returned. “You’re not well.”
“Is anyone in that place?” He coughed, and again his handkerchief came away spotted with blood.
“We’ll get you a doctor.” Babička nodded, as if that settled the issue.
“What good will a doctor do me?”
Anna gripped the couch’s rounded armrest. “Have you seen one already?”
“In the camp.”
“They didn’t have the medicine you need there. Slečna Kadlecová, is there one we can trust to see him?”
“I’ll find out the next time someone from the resistance comes.”
David plucked a few strings. “For you, to make you happy, I’ll see a doctor if you find one. But I know what he’ll say.”
Anna braced herself for the news.
Babička fingered her sweater’s sleeve. “You have tuberculosis.”
David nodded. “The disease is progressing. I don’t think I have long left.”
Anna dove from her chair and knelt in front of her brother. “Maybe the fresh air here will do you good. You will grow stronger, you’ll see. Paní Karas will feed you well. We’ll get extra rations for you. You will get better. You have to.”
“Anna, don’t.” David rubbed her shoulder. “Don’t make this harder than it already is.”
Ne, God, Y
ou can’t take him. He just came back.
You can’t.
“We’ll do everything we can for you, David.” Horst would go to whatever lengths it took to keep David alive. For Anna’s sake.
David helped Anna to her feet. “I appreciate it. You aren’t half bad, for a Nazi.”
Horst took that as the highest compliment. Maybe David would go through with the plan to consult with a doctor. At the very least, to give Anna a sliver of hope. A bit of time to deal with the news.
Patricie leaned against the doorway into the kitchen, her arms crossed. “It bothers me that you met Hauptsturmführer Jaeger.”
“Why? I told you, he didn’t recognize me. He had no clue who he stopped. He thought I was some farmer bringing in supplies. Don’t worry.” He didn’t want to alarm the women, but the concern did cross his mind.
Stefan wouldn’t rest until he hunted down Horst. Anger, hatred, and evil drove that man to the brink of insanity. Maybe even over it. He would sniff out Horst and not stop until he found him and exterminated him. And everyone around him.
He shivered.
“You don’t know that you weren’t followed.”
Horst tightened his jaw, then relaxed it. “I’m a trained German officer. Give me a little credit.”
“Then maybe you’re infiltrating us now. How can we be sure?” Patricie narrowed her eyes and stared at him until he squirmed.
“In that case, why would I risk my life to bring David here? He was already in the camp. You’re not making any sense.”
Anna dried her tears. “Stop it. Both of you. Patricie, I know it’s easy to be paranoid. Don’t you think I jump at every little sound, every car that passes, every knock on the door? But Horst has done much to prove himself. He won’t turn us in.”
Was that a crack in the wall between them? Dare he hope that his rescuing David had helped her believe he was a changed man? He wanted to swing her around the room in a dance. Instead, he held the feeling close. Savored it.
The urge to kiss her almost overtook him, even more than it had a few minutes ago outside. Nein, he didn’t want to admit it to David or to himself.
It was too dangerous to say the words. Too dangerous to even think about. If Stefan ever knew . . .
But he loved her.
