Searching for Lottie

by Susan Ross

  “But Nana’s dad was killed by the Nazis! And she lost her sister, too. Why wouldn’t she want to look at their pictures? Why would she put them away?” Charlie frowned.

  Mom looked into Charlie’s eyes. “You know how Nana is always so upbeat and cheerful, even when things go wrong?”

  Charlie nodded. “Nana never gets mad.” She remembered the time Nana Rose had been babysitting and Jake had decided to make popcorn. He’d left the pan on the stove while he went outside to play basketball. Within minutes, the smoke alarm went off. It was connected to the alarm system, and before Nana could figure out how to turn it off, the fire department had arrived at the door. Instead of scolding Jake, Nana Rose had greeted the firefighters with apricot rugelach and taken Charlie and Jake outside to admire the fire truck.

  “After I had children of my own,” Mom said softly, “I realized—or I least, I understood a bit better—that my mother had to bury the sad parts of her life in order to live happily.”

  “So Nana tried to forget about everything?” Charlie asked.

  “No, not exactly, but she needed to look ahead and, especially, make sure that our lives were full of happiness and not overshadowed by such deep sadness. That was her private way to defeat the Nazis.”

  “You mean Nana didn’t want to mess you up.”

  “Yes.” Mom nodded. “Something like that.”

  Charlie dug her nails into her palms. She’d thought Lottie was the strong one, but suddenly she realized that it was Nana Rose who’d had to be fearless.

  “And…what about now?” Charlie searched Mom’s face.

  “Now Nana is an old woman, as are all the survivors. I can see how glad she is to share her stories with you; keeping the family memories alive means the world to her.”

  “Mom…” It was suddenly hard for Charlie to speak. “Sometimes I wonder if I have to—that maybe I need to be who Lottie couldn’t be. For Nana.” She hesitated, remembering Dad’s assurances that Nana was already proud of her. But was that enough? Charlie took a deep breath. “I don’t ever want to let Nana down. She thinks that someday I can, you know, be as good as Lottie was—amazing on the violin.”

  There. She had said it.

  Mom looked at her for a long moment, then reached for her hand. “Tell me the truth, Charlie. Do you enjoy playing in the orchestra? I mean, is there something else you’d rather try?”

  “I love the violin!” Charlie replied without hesitation. “I love it more than anything! It’s just that I’m not…I’m not totally sure I want to be a soloist like Lottie. Or that I even could ever be good enough.” Charlie’s voice picked up speed. “But what if—what if I was thinking about something else? Like…maybe becoming a music teacher, like Mr. Fernandez? It could be really cool to teach kids about music! But if I wanted to do that instead…do you think Nana Rose would mind? I mean, wouldn’t she be disappointed?”

  Mom brought her face so close to Charlie’s that their noses were almost touching. “Nana Rose’s greatest joy is to watch you grow into the wonderful young woman you were meant to be. I think you would make a fantastic music teacher someday, sweetheart—but whatever you decide, decide for yourself. Be yourself! That’s the best way to remember Lottie. It’s more than enough, I promise.”

  * * *

  —

  As soon as they got home Sunday evening, Charlie ran up to her room and locked the door. She pulled the velvet box from her purse and carefully took out the gold necklace. The chain was long and woven in intricate links. Charlie fastened the chain at the back of her neck. The Star of David pendant felt smooth and cool. When she flipped it over, she noticed a faint inscription etched on the back: js.

  JS. Wait—she knew those initials!

  Charlie quickly texted Sarah: Nana gave me Lottie’s gold necklace with a Star of David. It says JS on the back! Must be Johann Schmidt, the boy from her music journal, right?

  Sarah’s reply took two seconds. Yes!

  Charlie ran her fingers over the beautiful necklace. She still didn’t know what to make of her conversation with the man who might be Nana’s cousin, Nathan Kulka, and what he’d claimed about Lottie’s fate. But could the initials on the Star of David be some sort of sign?

  Charlie spun around and grinned at the photo on the bulletin board. Lottie was patiently smiling back.

  Early Wednesday morning, Charlie lay in bed with the duvet pulled over her face. It seemed like she’d barely gone to sleep when her alarm started buzzing. Audition results would be posted in front of the auditorium today for everyone to see. There was no way she’d make concertmaster after her miserable audition. She’d probably spend another year in the middle of the first section, if she was lucky, or even drop into the second section next to Garrett Goodness, the quiet and polite boy who was tone-deaf and held his bow in a knot with his fist. Charlie tugged the covers higher until her toes were sticking out. Suddenly, her face was burning hot. Thank goodness! Maybe she had a fever and would have to spend the whole day in bed.

  Mom called from the bottom of the stairs, “Past time to get up! You don’t want to be late.”

  “I might be sick!” Charlie yelled into the quilt. She kicked the covers onto the floor. She had to go to school. There was no use putting it off.

  When Charlie left the house, Mom came to wave goodbye at the door, just like when Charlie and Jake were little. “Hals und Beinbruch, darling.”

  “Doesn’t that mean ‘Break a leg’ in German?” Charlie asked.

  “Something along those lines,” Mom replied, smiling.

  Charlie rolled her eyes. “How is it supposed to be lucky?”

  “Well, Nana Rose always used to say that to me when I was your age, and it did bring me luck!” Mom wrapped a light scarf around Charlie’s neck. “It was a special weekend with Nana, wasn’t it?”

  Charlie nodded. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about my audition, Mom—I mean, before we saw Nana Rose. I was just nervous.”

  Mom kissed Charlie’s forehead. “Call me from school as soon as you find out whether you made concertmaster.”

  Normally the bus ride was bumpy and boring, but today Charlie wished it would last forever. When she got to school, there were already a few kids standing in front of the music department notice board.

  Charlie held her breath and began counting backward. “Ten, nine, eight, seven, six…” At three, she forced herself to look up. Her jaw clenched. Concertmaster: Tommy Lee.

  She felt sick. A ripple of nausea hit her stomach as she scanned the rest of the list. Where was her name? Could they have kicked her out of the orchestra entirely? Gazing down the list for the first section, there it was: fourth chair, only slightly better than last year. Two eighth graders who were solid, but hardly standout players, were seated ahead of her. Charlie felt foolish that she’d imagined she had any real talent, when Lottie had been extraordinary enough to play solo with the symphony in Vienna.

  “Hey, Charlie, where’d they put you?”

  Oh no, not again! Charlie glanced sideways at the cello list. First chair for Devin, of course. No surprises there.

  “So where’s your seat?” Devin repeated, tossing his hair out of his eyes. Devin’s hair was so long that Charlie wondered how he could see his sheet music.

  “Nowhere special,” Charlie muttered. What a stupid thing to say!

  “You played Mozart for your audition, right?”

  “More like No-start,” Charlie whispered under her breath. Did Devin’s eyelashes actually touch his nose?

  “So…are you going to try out for the school musical?” Devin turned as if he was talking to someone else, but there wasn’t anyone else around.

  “I can’t sing,” Charlie replied. “I’m horrible at singing.” And violin, she added silently.

  “I meant the pit orchestra,” Devin said, leaning against the notice board. “There’s an
audition, but I’ve heard they basically take everyone.”

  “Oh.” Charlie shrugged. “I haven’t thought about it.”

  “Well, you should.” Devin looked down at his toes. “You rock on the violin.”

  Charlie wondered if he was teasing her.

  “Playing in the pit is cool,” Devin added. “They let you out of class to practice.”

  “Well, yeah…maybe.” Charlie looked down to check her toes, too. “If it’s okay with my mom…” Oh no—did she really just say that?

  “I know, my mom hates driving me everywhere. Maybe we could carpool to practices,” Devin replied.

  Carpool? Did Devin actually ask her to carpool?

  “Oh, bummer!” Devin glanced at his phone. “We’re late for homeroom.”

  “Yeah, bummer!” Charlie replied with a dizzy grin.

  She texted the news to Sarah, and a reassuring buzz came right back: Could be worse. They ALWAYS pick eighth graders to lead violins. You’ll be concertmaster next year!

  Charlie sighed. Then she laughed as another message came in.

  Also, Tommy Lee is kinda CUTE. Just like Devin!

  Sarah had a point. Maybe she would try out for the musical, Charlie decided, just in case it was fun.

  When Charlie got home from school, Mom was crouched by the front door, vigorously dusting the shoe storage bench. It looked as if she had been dusting for a while.

  “How’d it go? I’ve been waiting to hear—” Mom stopped when she saw the answer in Charlie’s stony expression. “Honey, I’m terribly sorry.”

  “It’s no big deal; I didn’t think I was going to make concertmaster anyway,” Charlie quickly replied.

  Mom stood and gave Charlie a hug. “There’s always next year—if that’s what you really want,” she said. Then she handed Charlie an envelope. “This arrived for you.”

  Charlie ran up the steps to her room. When she opened the envelope, a short note and a photograph fell into her lap.

  Charlie dearest,

  I am still thinking with such happiness about your visit! Just after you left, I found this photo. I believe you will recognize Lottie, but if I am right, the young man beside her is none other than Cousin Nathan Kulka. I cannot be one hundred percent certain, of course—I last saw Nathan when I was only a youngster. You must tell me what you find when you see him!

  I love you, and I know that you are a brave and wonderful girl.

  xoxo,

  Nana Rose

  PS—I must correct myself, Schnuckelpuss. I think you are a brave and lovely young woman!

  Charlie stared at the old photo. It was ripped at the edges so that the legs and feet of the two people in it were missing. The teenage girl was definitely Lottie. She looked especially grown-up in a black dress and long white gloves. Her hair was tucked under a velvet cap with a feather on one side. Lottie gazed straight into the camera with wide eyes and a broad smile. Her mouth was slightly open as if she was about to speak.

  Standing next to Lottie, his elbow just touching hers, was a young man in a double-breasted jacket. He had short dark hair parted in the middle and large ears that stuck out from his head. Charlie noticed that the boy’s arms extended the same way as his ears; they were longer than his jacket.

  Charlie pinned the photo on her bulletin board next to the picture of Lottie with her violin. Was the boy Nathan Kulka? And was it really possible that this same Nathan Kulka was alive and living at the seniors’ home in Greenfield?

  There was less than two weeks left before the family history report was due. Charlie sighed and opened her computer; she still needed to look at the Holocaust Memorial Museum website. Eerie black-and-white photographs popped up that reminded her of the ones in her own family’s album.

  As Charlie clicked through the photos, her stomach tightened. Who were all these people? These men and women captured in their old-fashioned clothing with their families and their friends; the ones who had disappeared like the billowing clouds outside her window? Children in rags appeared, wearing Jewish stars on thin coats, and finally, children with haunted, hollowed eyes wearing prison uniforms.

  Once, Charlie had tried to get Mom to go through their family photos from Europe but was disappointed to find that Mom could only identify a few of the faces. When Charlie asked how many of the people in the photo album had survived the Holocaust, Mom simply looked away.

  “Who did you celebrate holidays with?” Charlie had asked. “If it was just Nana Rose and her mother who came to America, and you were an only child, where did you go for Passover and Hanukkah?”

  “Well…” Mom thought for a minute. “We had cousins on my father’s side. Your grandfather Sam’s parents emigrated from Russia in the 1920s. And Nana had many close friends among the refugee community. My ‘aunts and uncles’ growing up were mostly dear friends who had lost their loved ones, too. They were always there for each other, nearly like family.”

  Then Mom told Charlie how her mother’s friends had helped bake pastries for her wedding. Mom smiled as she recalled how all the guests had been delighted by the expansive display of Viennese and Hungarian desserts. The wedding cake had been a spectacular seven-layer Dobos torte.

  Charlie heard a rustling noise and glanced out her bedroom window. The branches of a tall oak scraped against the panes of glass. When Charlie was little, she used to stare at that tree, wondering whether she could reach out and climb onto its branches. Would it be possible, she wondered, would she ever dare to swing over its limbs and scramble down to the safety of the ground below?

  The sound of an enormous burp made her jump.

  “Nervous or something?” Jake was standing at her door, smirking.

  “That’s disgusting! How can you be so gross?”

  “Naturally talented, perhaps?” Jake laughed.

  “Ha! Looks to me like you’ve been practicing.”

  “Yeah, well, you’ve got your violin, and I’ve got my own talents to nurture.” Jake ambled through the door and sank down on Charlie’s rug. “So, I heard Mom and Dad talking about this dude—the cousin guy you seem to have found at the seniors’ home…”

  “You mean Nathan Kulka?”

  “Yup, him.” Jake cocked his head sideways. “Do you think he could actually be related to us?”

  “I’m not really sure,” Charlie said, “but maybe.”

  “Well, it was pretty solid of you to find him. I gotta give you kudos for that one.”

  Charlie swallowed air and coughed. A compliment…from Jake?

  “Thanks,” she replied as if nothing special had happened.

  Jake leaned over Charlie’s shoulder. “I mean, even if you can’t find Nana’s sister, it would be pretty intense if you found us a cousin we didn’t know existed.”

  “You think?” That was two compliments from Jake. Charlie tried not to let him see her smile, but she didn’t have to worry because he was looking at something poking out from under the bed.

  “What’s that?”

  “Oh.” Charlie blushed. “It’s just an old-fashioned toy I found in the basement a couple of weeks ago. Nana gave it to me when I was little.”

  “Oh yeah, I remember that thing! It’s your diabolo.” Jake pulled the large rubber top with its two short wands from beneath Charlie’s bed. He tried balancing the top on the string tied between the wands. With a long swoop, he tossed it into the air, but the toy hit the ceiling with a thwack and came crashing down, narrowly missing the lamp.

  “I guess I’m still lousy at this!” Jake laughed. “You try.”

  Charlie took the top and rested it on the string. It felt awkward and uneven, and then suddenly, her wrists moved and the top was spinning. Without even remembering how, her hands seemed to know the way to make the wands push and pull while the top spun faster and faster.

  “Not bad!” Jake whistled.

 
Charlie glanced at the ceiling, then tossed the diabolo so that it spun in the air—just shy of the hanging light—and returned to the string, still in motion.

  “Wow. You’re really good.”

  Charlie blushed. “Hey, Jake?”

  “Yeah?”

  “You know how Nana Rose always says there are miracles in the world?”

  “Oh, sure,” Jake snorted, “and how about, ‘If at first you don’t succeed…’”

  “‘…try, try again!’” Charlie said. “But seriously, do you think Nana’s right? Do you think there can ever be real miracles?”

  Jake licked his lips and rubbed his chin. “Well, let’s put it this way—you remember that girl I met on vacation last summer?”

  “You mean the supermodel-hot-way-out-of-your-league girl with the streaky blond hair that I saw you kiss on the ride at Disney World?”

  “Yup, she’s the one!” Jake was grinning from ear to ear.

  “Okay, what’s your point?” Charlie asked.

  “Well, that was a miracle!”

  Charlie picked her pillow off the bed and threw it at Jake, this time hitting him squarely on the back of his neck as he scooted out the door.

  “Finally!” Charlie raised both hands in the air.

  Saturday came quickly, almost too quickly. Mom had agreed to take Charlie to the seniors’ home to look for Nathan Kulka, but she appeared nearly as nervous as Charlie felt as they got into the car.

  “Nana Rose told me to bring my violin.” Charlie held up the case.

  “I remember; that’s a good idea. It’ll pass the time, in any event, if it turns out…”

  “…That the man I talked to isn’t our cousin?”

  Mom shrugged. “Honestly, honey, we shouldn’t get our hopes up too high; we’ll have to wait and see.” She pulled the keys from her handbag and glanced at the sky. “It looks like rain; you were smart to wear a hat.”

  Charlie twirled her hair into a bun and pushed a stray curl beneath her cap.