Esther squeezed Rebecca’s hand and asked, “Are you staying here in Berlin with your husband, or are you moving?”
“So far, I think we are staying here. I haven’t heard otherwise. How about you?” Rebecca asked.
“I think we are staying here too. My future husband is a watchmaker. He owns a little shop in town, so I don’t see why we would leave. But of course, they never consult us women. We just go along with whatever our husbands or fathers demand. I hate it. You know that though.”
“Yes, I know you do, Esther.”
“Tell me you don’t? Tell me truthfully that you don’t wish you had some say in your future, in your life?”
Rebecca nodded. “Of course, I do. But it does me no good to think about it. Come, eat, dance. At least for the moment, Esther, try to be happy.” Rebecca took her friend’s hand, leading her onto the dance floor.
The dancing went on well into the night. The men danced on one side, the women on the other. Every time Rebecca glanced over to the men’s side, she saw men congratulating her new husband. He was laughing and talking with his friends and with their fathers. It seemed he was never looking in her direction. I wonder if he is not pleased with me? Is there something I should be doing differently? Should I have said or done something more when we were alone? But what? No one told me what to say or do, and I didn’t want to do the wrong thing. My Tate wants me to make my husband happy, but I don’t know how. She felt a wave of anxiety wash over her. Her mother had already told her what to expect later, once she and Eli were alone. The idea of this man she hardly knew touching her most private places seemed horrific. How was she to endure this? No man except her father had ever even kissed her, and he had only kissed her on her forehead in a fatherly way. But now she was expected to allow her new husband complete access to her body. I wish I could just run away. Or fly away like a bird, Rebecca thought. But then she looked over at Eli, and he glanced back at her and smiled. He leaned against the table, and his wine glass fell to the floor. It shattered, and the wine pooled like blood around the broken glass. Eli stood frozen in shock. For a single instant, she was mesmerized by the deep crimson color of the wine, and a shadow of dread came over her. A cold finger ran up her spine. She looked up from the mess on the floor, and her eyes met Eli’s. He looked away quickly as if he were embarrassed at being so clumsy. It brought her out of her trance. Perhaps he is as nervous about the coming night as I am. Maybe he feels as uncomfortable as I do. And just maybe, everything will be all right. But she couldn’t help feeling that the bloody-looking wine and the broken glass were some kind of a premonition.
Once the guests departed, the newlyweds retired to Eli’s room in his father’s home. Rebecca sat on the edge of her twin bed with her head down. Eli’s parents had purchased twin beds for the couple once the marriage had been arranged. Eli and Rebecca would not share a bed. When they joined together as man and wife to produce an offspring, Eli would come to her bed. She couldn’t meet Eli’s eyes. She knew if she did, he would see how frightened she was and how much she wished she could run home to her parents and forget that this marriage had ever happened.
“I suppose we should get ready for bed,” Eli said.
Rebecca nodded.
“I’ll go and leave you to get undressed. I’ll be back soon,” he said walking clumsily out of the room, tucking his hands in and out of his pants pockets as if they were not a part of him, and he had no idea what do with them.
As she took off her mother’s wedding dress, Rebecca could hear her heart beating. If she thought too long or hard about all that would change tonight, she knew she would throw herself on the bed and weep. What would Eli think if he came back into this room and found me crying? He would think I wasn’t raised as a proper Jewish wife. I would bring shame upon my family.
She turned off the light and climbed into bed. The room was pitch black save for a sliver of moonlight that came through the window. The crisp cotton bed sheets felt cold and foreign. Her whole body shivered under the blankets even though it was a warm night. Soon her husband would enter the room, and his body would be beside her in the bed. This man she hardly knew, this man whose name and bed she would share for the rest of her days: Eli Kaetzel. He would explore the most sacred and private places of her body. All this must be endured so she could fulfill her most important role, which was to become pregnant and bring forth a child. No matter what happened. No matter how much it hurt, she knew she must lie still, allow it, and not scream.
The door creaked open, and Rebecca felt the bile rise in her throat. She forced herself to swallow. The floorboards groaned as Eli made his way to her bed. He got in beside her but was careful not to brush against her. His presence so close to her body felt strange; she could feel the warmth of another living being. The bed moved with his trembling.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” he said, his voice barely a whisper.
“Thank you.” Several moments of silence followed, then Eli cleared his throat.
“I am afraid that I am new at this too,” he said. She could tell by his tone of voice that he was trying to put her at ease. He continued, “I am going to start, all right?”
“Yes,” she croaked.
“If I hurt you please tell me. Promise me you will.”
“Yes, I promise.”
It wasn’t as bad as she thought it would be. Eli was gentle and very considerate. Rebecca couldn’t honestly say she liked it, but she could tolerate it if it brought her a gift from God, a mitzvah, a blessing, a child.
Once Eli finished, he got out of Rebecca’s small bed and went to his own. She curled up into herself, relieved to be alone, but feeling chilled and a little lost. It would have been nice to get up and clean herself but she didn’t. Instead, she allowed the tears to flow silently down her cheeks. Tonight she became a wife, and she was on the path to fulfilling what her parents had always told her was her life’s purpose. Trembling and alone, she tried to think of the blessing God would send. A child. If she endured this humiliating thing that her husband must do, a thing that must be endured by all women, then God might see fit to send her the greatest gift he could ever give a woman, a baby. She lay there unable to sleep. Her body was cold, but she remained silent as she watched the moon through her window, waiting for the first light of dawn.
As expected, her mother arrived early the following morning. Rebecca and her mother went into the bedroom she shared with Eli. They were alone. Rebecca touched her lush, thick, blonde hair with her fingers and felt the loss even before her mother began to shave her head.
“How was last night?” her mother asked. “Are you all right?”
Rebecca nodded, swallowing the loneliness she felt. She dared not speak because if she did, she was afraid she might beg her mother to leave her hair alone and to take her back home.
With trembling but purposeful hands, her mother shaved Rebecca’s head. Rebecca watched the golden locks fall on the wood floor. Then before she could see herself in a mirror, Rebecca’s mother covered her daughter’s head with a pretty scarf that she brought as a gift for her.
“Do you like the scarf?” Judith, Rebecca’s mother, asked. “I saved it for you for years.”
“It’s very pretty, Mama.”
“You’ve always looked good in pink.”
“Thank you. Thank you for everything,” Rebecca said, but she could no longer hold back the tears.
“What is it, my baby, my sweet daughter? What is it?”
“I don’t know, Mama . . .”
“I know. I understand. Shaa . . . shaa . . . Don’t cry. The beginning of a marriage is always hard for the girl. It was hard for me too when I first married your Tate, but we are happy now. And you’ll be happy with Eli. You’ll see.”
Rebecca nodded.
“Now go, wash your face because we have to join the rest of your new family for breakfast.”
“Yes, Mama. I will.”
Rebecca splashed her face with cold water and peeked under the scarf. Her stomach dropp
ed when she saw her bald head. She tried to push it out of her mind. She knew everyone was waiting in the living room for her, so she steadied herself and walked out of the bathroom.
“Come,” Eli’s father said to Rebecca and her mother. “Let’s have breakfast. My wife baked a fresh challah for the occasion.”
Eli, his sister, his parents, Rebecca, and her mother all sat around a heavy, round, wooden table. The rebbe cleaned his hands ceremoniously in a bowl of water. Then he took the golden, brown bread and broke off a piece for himself before passing it around the table. When the challah came to Rebecca, she tore off a small piece and began to nibble. She was so sad that it was difficult to swallow, and the dough caught in her throat. Keeping her eyes cast down at the plate in front of her, she listened as the rebbe spoke to her mother.
“It was a beautiful wedding. May our families be blessed with many grandchildren,” he said.
“Halevi. It should only be so,” Rebecca’s mother said.
The rebbe nodded and smiled.
Rebecca found it very difficult to sit at the table with the families. She couldn’t help but think that everyone at that table knew exactly what had happened between her and Eli the night before. She was so glad her father wasn’t there. Facing him was going to be embarrassing, even though everything was exactly as it was supposed to be. Even so, right now, she felt self-conscious with everyone there. She couldn’t meet their eyes. Finally, breakfast was over. Without a word, and keeping her eyes cast down, Rebecca helped clear the table and then cleaned the kitchen. Once her mother had gone, Eli came up behind her. He whispered in her ear so no one else could hear, “I don’t mind if you let your hair grow back. I mean, it’s up to you, of course. But if you want to, it’s all right with me. Of course you will have to keep your head covered when you are outside.”
“Thank you. That’s very kind of you,” she said.
“I want you to be happy with me. I want us to have a good marriage and a happy family. I am not sure what to do to please a wife, but I will try.”
His kind and sincere words touched her heart. Tears began to form in the corners of her eyes. She didn’t know what to say. She wanted to talk to him, to tell him everything she was feeling. Rebecca wanted to make him happy too, but she didn’t know how. All she could think to say to him was, “Thank you.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
March 1934
Eli was content with his wife, but he could not say he was truly happy. Anyone who saw her would say Rebecca was very pretty. Eli had to admit she was a good cook, and her sewing skills were competent. She was a tremendous help to his mother in keeping the house clean and kosher, never complaining. His father was proud to have her as his son’s wife. The old rebbe often told Eli that he impressed with Rebecca’s quiet and modest ways. Eli told himself every day that he should be thrilled. Any of his friends from the yeshiva would certainly be overjoyed. But for Eli Kaetzel, something was missing. Although he’d been married over a year, he still hardly knew his pretty, slender, young wife. There was nothing he could put his finger on to complain about, but Rebecca was emotionless, almost like a well-made machine. She did everything right yet Eli still found himself thinking about the other girl. Although he hardly knew her, Gretchen had made a deep and lasting impression on him. She had shown him that women could be exciting and challenging. Gretchen had the audacity to speak to him as an equal. If he were honest, he would have to admit that Gretchen was not nearly as pretty as Rebecca. But she intrigued him, and he couldn’t forget her.
Meanwhile, everyone at the shul was talking about the rise in the hatred of Jewish people. It was no secret that the new chancellor, Adolf Hitler, was a strong Jew hater. Even though the entire congregation seemed worried, Eli’s father wasn’t concerned. He refused to accept fear or danger. But Eli was frightened. After his marriage, Eli began teaching the younger boys at the yeshiva. At least once a week, one of his students would arrive at school with a black eye or a broken nose, the result of a beating by Hitler’s youth gangs. When Eli addressed his concerns with his father, his father just shook his head. He insisted that this strong wave of Jewish hatred would pass.
“It always does, Eli.” The old rebbe nodded and smiled sadly to his son.
“I hope so, Father. But I am worried about the country. Very worried,” Eli answered.
Rebbe Kaetzel just waved his hand.
Eli tried to talk his father into listening to the radio, but his father refused. The rebbe, like the others of his religious sect, did not pay attention to the world outside his small Jewish community. However, Eli’s friend Yousef purchased a radio. He and Eli set it up in the old tree house that they had built together when they were children. Often, when the rebbe thought Eli and Yousef were studying in the tree house, they were, in fact, listening to Adolf Hitler speak.
“Every day I get more and more concerned about this hatred of our people. No good can come of it,” Eli told Yousef. “Just listen to that crazy man. He promises the German people everything they want, and he is blaming all the problems in Germany on the Jews. I have a feeling that this won’t be good for us.”
“No. It won’t. That’s for sure. I have been feeling the same way for quite a while now,” Yousef said. “I am thinking about taking my wife and moving to America to live with my father’s cousin.”
“Your family would go with you?”
“My parents would, yes, but not Sarah’s. They have two younger children, and they don’t want to uproot them.”
Yousef had married a few months after Eli. Although his wife is not nearly as attractive as mine, Yousef is happy, Eli thought, studying his old friend. Marriage agreed with Yousef. His complexion had cleared up; he was no longer a pimply kid. He had turned into a mature, handsome man. Eli was glad that his friend had settled into the life expected of him, and he envied him. Eli was still so restless.
Some days, when he got off work, he would walk alone by the park where he had met Gretchen. He was secretly hoping to see her again, but he never did. Sometimes he would drop by the warehouse where they’d met secretly. He would enter the dull dark building and sit down, wishing he could bring back the moments that he shared with Gretchen. Each time he returned home, he would constantly remind himself that it was for the best. Meeting with her would mean nothing but trouble. Still, sometimes he daydreamed about going to her home and knocking on the door. What would she say when she saw him, he wondered. But he was a married man and the son of a respected rebbe. He dared not ever do such a foolish thing.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Gretchen Schmidt wore her long strawberry-blonde hair in a twist at the back of her neck. She had grown into a lovely young woman with an athletic build and long sleek legs. In the six months since Hitler had been appointed chancellor, she had secured a part-time job working two nights a week after school at a factory that produced pharmaceuticals. She had taken a class in shorthand and another in typing, and her uncle, who was a prominent member of the Nazi Party, was able to help her find work. The pay she earned would make their lives easier.
Gretchen enjoyed her job. She liked the camaraderie of working as part of a team. Every day while she and the other girls she worked with ate the lunches they brought from home, they looked through magazines and talked about boys and fashions. Then one afternoon Gretchen met a coworker named Hilde Dusel. Hilde had lived in the same area for many years, and she seemed to know everyone. But they were acquaintances, never friends. Hilde had always been an outsider looking in, she was not one of the popular girls. So, Hilde was ecstatic when Gretchen accepted her friendship, and she latched on to Gretchen, wanting to spend as much time as possible with her. Hilde’s father was originally from Germany, but he lived in Austria for several years where he met his wife, who was also of German descent. The Dusel family had moved to Germany when Hilde was twelve, and her younger sister was eight. Hilde was a solid girl, heavyset with thick legs and heavy breasts. She had thin but wavy, light brown hair, which never seemed to
stay in place, and pale blue eyes. She wasn’t pretty by anyone’s standards, but Gretchen, who was kind and always looked for the good in everyone, loved Hilde’s quick wit and clever sense of humor. She could always find something to say that would make Gretchen laugh. From the first time they met, Hilde made it clear that her father was a strong supporter of Hitler. She was a member of the Bund Deutscher Maedels, sometimes called the Bund—the League of German Girls’ branch of the Hitler Youth—and she strongly urged Gretchen to join.
“It’s so much fun,” Hilde promised. “Most of the girls are very nice. We do a lot of different things, like nature hikes and campouts. We play competitive sports on the weekends. I’ve learned so many things, like how to build a campfire, how to cook and bake. Sometimes we help mothers that have a lot of children. And whenever we have a meeting, we sing lots of songs. But that’s not all. The most exciting thing is the boys. Our group is affiliated with a group of boys called the Hitler Youth. Some of them are just dreamy. I know you must have heard all about the Bund at school. I have to say that I am so surprised you haven’t joined yet.”
Gretchen laughed. “I have heard about it, but I was so concerned with getting a job that I didn’t really think about joining. My father is a professor, and we are surviving, but the truth is we would like to have more, so I couldn’t even consider joining the Bund. I figured it was best to find a job."
“Well, you have the Jews to thank for that.”
“For what?”
“If there weren’t so many Jewish professors stealing from the system, your father would be earning plenty of money.”
“My father’s never mentioned anything like that to me.”
“Then you should be listening to the speeches the führer makes over the radio. If you did, you would realize that the Jews are to blame for all of it. They are evil, you know?”
Gretchen said nothing; she was remembering Eli.
The Smallest Crack Page 7
