Children of the Promise

by Dean Hughes

  “Good afternoon,” he said. “It’s nice to see you again.”

  Anna said nothing. What could he want after all this time?

  “May I step in for a moment?”

  Anna couldn’t think what to do. She didn’t want to let him in, and yet she feared saying no. In her confusion, she hesitated, and suddenly he stepped forward and pushed against the door. Anna stepped back and Kellerman walked in, and then he shut the door behind him.

  “Is your father here?” he asked. He spoke politely, but Anna felt the undercurrent, the implied threat in his voice.

  “Yes,” she said. “He walked down to the courtyard for something. He will be back in just a moment.”

  Kellerman smiled, his thick lips stretching wider than usual. “Oh, my dear, you lie so well. If I didn’t know better, I would believe you. How does one so pretty, so innocent, learn to lie this way? Did your American friends teach you this?”

  Anna didn’t answer, but now she was more frightened. How did he know she was lying? Why would he come when he knew her father wasn’t there?

  “I need to know something. Tell me the truth or I will search your apartment. Is your mother here?”

  “No. She’s still at work. I expect her any minute now.”

  “Yes. This is a closer answer. But not for half an hour at the very least.”

  Anna thought she knew now what was happening. She began to think what she could do. He was standing between her and the door. She would have no chance to get out that way.

  “I am aware that your father and your brother have gone to the country again. They enjoy their little trips, I notice. I’m surprised your father gets around so well, but I’m pleased for him.” Kellerman enjoyed his irony with another facetious smile.

  “And they like to purchase vegetables and fruit, maybe some cheese. Is this not so?”

  “Yes.”

  “Isn’t that nice for you? It makes you look so pretty to have these healthy, fresh foods.”

  Anna was thinking of the kitchen: the drawer where the knives were.

  “And being such good Christians, your father and brother take these foods to members of your sect. Is this not so?”

  “Certainly.”

  “That is wonderful. It’s exactly the way religious people should behave. All this kindness is inspiring, don’t you think?”

  He took a step forward, and Anna moved back. She almost bolted, but he stopped, and she waited.

  “But then, I’m not certain that it’s Christian to feed Jews. And there is also the question of law. For your father and brother to enter the ghetto, a place forbidden to them, and to take food to a Jew—something also forbidden—perhaps that makes this difficult question more complex? Do you think so?”

  “My father is a good man. If he takes food to people, it’s only out of kindness.”

  “Yes, yes. This question is difficult. But then, if a man has insulted me, has made me look bad before my leaders—perhaps I cannot be truly dispassionate. And not being as Christian as your father, perhaps a desire for revenge clouds my thinking.”

  “He wants no trouble. Honestly, he doesn’t.”

  “That may be so, and perhaps there is no Christian answer.” Kellerman took another step forward. Anna stepped back again, toward the open kitchen door. “Perhaps the only answer is a Jewish one. I understand that Jews like to strike a bargain—and I can do that. Would you like to strike a bargain that would save your father’s and your brother’s lives?”

  Anna’s breath seemed to stop entirely. Her vision had become hazy. She wanted to run.

  “Perhaps if you were very kind to me, I would be willing to let your family live. You are such a pretty young woman, and I think you could please me very much. Surely, it would be worth it to you—to save both your father and your brother from certain death, as traitors to the Führer. Wouldn’t you say so, Anna?”

  She had made up her mind to surprise him—to dash into the kitchen without warning, but she kept hanging on, fearing what might happen once she got hold of the knife.

  “You understand, my dear Anna, I am going to have you. This can happen gently and sweetly, or it can be rough. I don’t mind either way. But it will be easier for you if you cooperate. And better for your father and brother.”

  “You’re the liar,” she said. “You will do the same to them either way. You won’t let them live.”

  He smiled again. “Anna, I like you. You are bright and straightforward. And I am glad we understand each other. This is not about saving your father, is it? It’s about saving yourself. So let’s bargain over that.”

  “There’s no bargaining with Satan.”

  Kellerman laughed, and for a moment he glanced away. At the same instant, Anna spun and ran. She got to the cabinets and pulled at a drawer, which caught for a moment and then gave way too quickly. Several of the knives and utensils flew across the room and scattered on the floor. But Anna saw the big knife she wanted, a butcher knife. It had flipped up, with the handle over the edge of the drawer. She grabbed it and spun toward Kellerman as he stepped into the kitchen.

  He was not hurrying. He was smiling. “Oh, little Anna, this is much more fun than I expected. You can’t imagine how much you please me.”

  “Lord,” she whispered, “please help me.” She was crying, but she hardly realized it. Kellerman was moving slowly toward her, smiling.

  “We take training, you know, we agents, in dealing with circumstances of this kind. We learn to take knives from big, fierce men. And so I see no great challenge in this. Still, it excites me. That’s what I like about it.”

  “I’ll kill you. I will.”

  “That’s good. I’m glad you think so.” He stopped three or four steps away. “And I’ll also make you a promise. I’ll only injure you as much as I have to. Any time you submit your will to me, I’ll stop hurting you. In fact, if you would like to put the knife down and be nice to me, I’ll not hurt you at all.”

  She didn’t move. She held the knife out, waist high, pointing toward him. He took a short step forward, and she crouched a little more, ready.

  “Let me warn you of one thing. Never use a swinging motion when you try to stab a man. That gives him too much time to see the blow coming. You must stab quickly, and straight, and it’s best to catch him by surprise. Would you like to try?”

  Another little step forward.

  She straightened up, and she let her hand fall to her side. “Please don’t hurt me,” she pleaded. “Please, don’t.”

  He laughed and took another step forward. At the same moment, she drove the knife straight at his chest. And she did catch him by surprise. His left arm came up quickly, but the knife got through, tore through his uniform and sliced the top of his left shoulder. At the same time, his right arm crashed against the side of her head and dropped her. She hit the floor hard, and everything spun for a moment, but she knew he was coming after her. She rolled and slashed with the knife and felt it cut into him.

  But now he was on top of her, driving her into the floor, his left forearm across her throat, choking her. She twisted hard, trying to get air, and as she did, she saw a flash of red, of flowing blood.

  He grabbed her shoulders to keep her from twisting, and he drove her back against the floor, pinning her. But now she saw a terrible gash across his left cheek, through part of his nose and down through those fat lips. The flesh was laid open, deep, and his mouth was contorted.

  “You whore,” he screamed at her. “I’ll have you anyway.” But blood was gushing down his cheek and off his chin and nose, running in a stream onto Anna’s face and throat.

  Suddenly he released her shoulder and slammed his fist at her face. She was able to see the blow coming and turn, but he struck her cheek and ear, sending an explosion of pain through her head. At the same time, she heard him grunt, and he pulled back, releasing his hold on her. She took the chance to slam her fist into his shoulder—into the wound she had made there.

  Kellerman grima
ced and then rolled off her and clambered to his feet. He touched his face, felt the gash, and then pressed his hand against it, but the blood oozed through his fingers. Anna could see the panic in his eyes, as though he had realized for the first time just how bad the wound was.

  “You will die for this,” he bellowed, and he kicked at her. His foot was aimed at her stomach, but she caught it with her hands and kept it from striking very hard. She tried to grasp his boot and knock him off his feet, but he pulled back and only stumbled. All the same, it gave Anna time to spot another knife on the floor, against the wall. She scrambled after it, grabbed it, and jumped to her feet. She crouched again and waited for his next move.

  But Kellerman wasn’t ready for that. He pulled his hand away from his face and looked at the blood. The collar of his white shirt was soaked red now, and he was holding his left elbow against his body, probably to reduce the pain of the shoulder wound. “I’ll have you yet, and then I’ll kill you, slowly. You will suffer for this, and so will every member of your family.”

  He looked about himself and saw a tablecloth on the kitchen table. He jerked at it, sending an empty fruit bowl flying, and then he forced the cloth against his face. He took a last look at Anna, who was still waiting. He seemed to waver for a moment, and then he hurried from the room.

  Anna listened to him tramp out to the landing and onto the stairs, and she ran and slammed the door and locked it. Then she dropped to her knees. For a couple of minutes she cried, letting herself vent her emotions. But she began to realize that she couldn’t do this. She had to find her family. She had to warn them. Kellerman might not be back quickly, but he would send others, and it wouldn’t take long.

  She unlocked the door and started out, but she thought of the blood all over her. She ran back to the kitchen, grabbed a dishtowel, wet it, and wiped away the blood from her neck and face. But a big circle of blood was also on her blouse. She tore the blouse off and ran to her bedroom. She grabbed another one, the first one she could see, and began to put it on as she ran back to the front door. She flew down the stairs, and then she stopped at the downstairs doors to tuck the blouse into her skirt and smooth her hair a little. She walked more carefully into the street and then began to walk toward her mother’s place of work, controlling her impulse to run.

  She had only crossed a couple of streets before she thought she saw her mother in the distance. She couldn’t hold herself back any longer, and she let herself run. But the woman was not her mother, and Anna had to fight herself not to look too strange, too wild, as she reached the woman. She slowed, looked away, and then, once she had walked on past, couldn’t help but run again. She had covered most of the distance to the factory when she finally did see her mother, walking toward her.

  “Mother,” she said, trying hard not to fall apart, “we’re in trouble. We must find Papa and Peter. Kellerman came to the house. He tried to . . . hurt me. I cut him with a knife. I slashed his face. He left, but he’ll be back.”

  “Where’s your father?”

  Anna saw the terror in her mother’s face and found it unnerving, but it helped her control herself. She knew she had to think straight. “He and Peter went to the country. We have to find them.”

  “There’s no saving us, Anna. What can we do? You can’t stab a Gestapo agent.”

  “Mama, he was trying to rape me.” The color was already gone from Sister Stoltz’s face. But for a moment, Anna saw her eyes roll back, and she thought her mother was going to faint. Anna grabbed her. “We must get away from Frankfurt,” Anna said. “We must hide somewhere. Come. Hurry.”

  The two of them walked fast, ignoring those who looked at them on the street. They said very little, except that Sister Stoltz said, “We have to go home. Even if they find us there. If your papa and Peter have come home, we must warn them.”

  Anna knew that was so, but what then? How long could they wait? Was there some way to find them? Anna and her mother had never gone on these excursions. They had no idea where to look.

  At the apartment house, they saw no one outside, and so they hurried upstairs. When they reached the apartment, Sister Stoltz fumbled to get the key in the door, but it suddenly swung open. Anna and her mother lunged backward, but at the same time, they saw Brother Stoltz, looking at them wide-eyed. “Are you all right? What happened?”

  And then Anna realized what he had seen in the kitchen: blood on the floor, blood on the dishtowel, knives and utensils scattered about. “Kellerman was here,” she blurted out. “He came after me.”

  “He tried to rape her,” her mother said, crying for the first time.

  “I cut his face. He said he would come back and kill us all. What can we do?”

  Brother Stoltz reached out and grabbed them, each by a wrist, and pulled them inside. Anna saw that Peter was there, behind her father. He looked terrified.

  Brother Stoltz thought for another few seconds. “All right. Move quickly, but we must not panic. We must do this correctly. Each of you get a change of clothes. Put everything in one suitcase. No.” He stopped and thought. “What do we have? A laundry bag. Put the clothes in that.”

  “I want the family pictures, and the old Bible.”

  “No. Nothing. Just a change of clothes and any money we have. Don’t take identification papers either. Somehow we’ll have to get false papers. I don’t know how to do any of that, but first we must get out of this neighborhood and leave no trace to follow.”

  And so everyone hurried off to grab a change of clothes. Anna took a quick look around and thought of one other thing. She grabbed the little picture on her desk, the one of Elder Thomas and Elder Sawyer standing with her on the day she was baptized. She folded her clothes around it and took them to her mother, who stuffed them into the laundry bag.

  Mother hurried to the kitchen then and grabbed bread and wurst and cheese. She put them in a net and was about to return to the living room when Brother Stoltz came into the kitchen and said, “Leave the food. People will notice it.”

  “I’ll put it in the bag with the clothes.”

  “No. They’ll smell it. We can’t do anything that looks suspicious. We must go—now.”

  Not three minutes had passed since Anna and her mother had come home, and they were all leaving. Anna saw her mother lift a little Delft plate from a shelf and tuck it in with the clothing before she closed the door.

  Anna was anxious to get away quickly, but at the same time, she knew the immensity of what had just happened. The family had just shut its doors on everything: all their possessions, their home, their way of life. Everything was gone. Even if they managed to stay alive somehow, nothing would ever be the same.

  And she felt, in some terrible way, responsible.

  Brother Stoltz peeked out through the front doors, then looked back and whispered, “All right. We are going for a walk. Step out with me and walk normally down the street. We’ll get a few streets away, and then we’ll take a streetcar—get to another part of town as quickly as possible.”

  “What then?” Mother asked.

  “Let’s just get that far, for now. I’m thinking.”

  “We need to pray.”

  “Yes. But quickly.” He bowed his head, and so did the others. “Father, we are in great trouble,” he said. “We need a miracle. Please help me get my family away, and help me, somehow, to keep them alive.” He closed the prayer.

  “Pray for you, too,” Peter said.

  “It’s all right. Now, let’s step outside. Look natural.”

  And so they stepped out into the bright afternoon sun, and they walked slowly down the street. The corner seemed miles away, and Anna wanted to run to get around it, but she took normal steps, even greeted a neighbor who passed by, as did everyone in the family.

  After they turned the corner, they picked up their pace a little. All the while, Anna watched for any sign of anyone coming—perhaps Gestapo agents in a car. But everything seemed normal—just the end of a hot day, and people heading home fr
om work or going out to stand in line with their ration cards at neighborhood shops.

  The family followed a zigzag pattern until they reached a streetcar stop several blocks from home. They boarded the first streetcar that came by, a crowded one heading west across town. Anna was feeling better as they moved farther away from home, but the other sense, of everything lost, was coming on stronger. She saw that tears were running down her mother’s face, and she grasped her around the waist. “You must not cry,” she said. “People will notice,” but tears came to her own eyes.

  Brother Stoltz saw both of them struggling and said, “Get off at this next stop.” And once they were all off, he talked to them. “You must look normal. You cannot looked frightened. And you must not cry.”

  “Where are we going?” his wife asked.

  “Let’s go north.”

  “Can’t we stay with someone? What about members of the branch? Maybe someone could hide us for now.”

  “No. Kellerman will check with all the Mormons first. We cannot put them in danger. They must not be forced to lie for us either. It’s best that we leave without contacting anyone. President Meis will understand that something like this must have happened. He knows about Kellerman.”

  “Could we speak to Herr Schlenker again? Maybe he will stop Kellerman the way he did before.”

  But Anna had thought of that. “Kellerman knows that you took food to Bruder Goldfarb,” she said. “He must have had you followed.”

  “Did he say this?”

  “Yes. He said you had gone to the ghetto and taken food to a Jew. He even knew you had given food to others. He must have been watching everything you and Peter have been doing.”

  “Not him. But he has his spies.” Brother Stoltz rubbed his hands over his eyes. “Schlenker won’t help us now.”

  “We watched so carefully,” Peter said. “We thought no one had seen us.”

  “There’s no beating these people,” Brother Stoltz said.

  “Then what can we do?” Sister Stoltz asked, and she began to cry again.

  “Get out of Frankfurt.”