The Darkest Canyon

by Roberta Kagan

  “You mean kill her?” Hilde asked.

  “Yes, and then no one need ever know the truth.”

  “But it’s not the truth,” Hilde exclaimed with conviction.

  “Yes . . .” Ilsa smiled. “It is.”

  A chill ran down the back of Hilde’s neck, and even though she needed Ilsa, she suddenly wished she’d never invited her back into her life.

  CHAPTER 50

  After Ilsa left, Hilde put Anatol to bed. She felt a wave of panic come over her as she looked at the child laying quietly in his bed, sucking his thumb. Ilsa could thwart the happiness that she had finally found in Anatol. She had the power, and Ilsa knew that Hilde knew that she did. Not only that, but Hilde needed Ilsa. Without her help she could not help Gretchen. A bead of sweat ran down Hilde’s back. It was dangerous to be indebted to someone as diabolical as Ilsa. As she had done all of her life when she was afraid or in need of comfort or advice, Hilde went to talk to the Valkyrie, her imaginary self in the mirror.

  She checked the boy, the child who she’d come to love. He was asleep. This was the perfect time to visit with her friend. Hilde went into the bathroom and closed the door. Then she stared into the mirror. “Come to me, please,” she said in a pathetic tone. “I need you desperately. I am in a terrible fix.”

  The warrior woman on the white horse appeared.

  “What are we going to do?” Hilde asked, wide eyed and trembling. “I am afraid of Ilsa. She’s telling lies about Anatol. She could have him taken away from me if I anger her.”

  You didn’t want a child, now did you? the Valkyrie asked, shaking her head. I told you when we decided to kill your mother that children were our reason for existence. But you didn’t believe me then. You said you never wanted a child. Besides, you hate Jews. You don’t want him if he’s a Jew.

  “But he is not a Jew and I love him. Help me, I am afraid for him.”

  You’re afraid of Ilsa because she is as diabolical as you. Perhaps more so.

  Hilde nodded her head. “You are not comforting me. You’re scaring me.”

  The Valkyrie laughed. I am?

  “I should not have come to you for advice. You’re making this worse.”

  Ahhh, Hilde. You and I are one. I am the beautiful reflection of the powerful woman who lives within you. You needn’t be afraid of Ilsa. And you certainly shouldn’t fear me. I am your best friend. I know you better than anyone else. And I will tell you, here and now, that you are just as strong and just as smart as that little blonde bitch. If she dares to threaten our child, we will destroy her.

  “Yes, you’re right. Ilsa is scarier than most, but she is not indestructible,” Hilde said.

  Now you are talking like the Hilde I know.

  “Do you think that once she has killed Anatol’s mother, I can find a way to kill her and not get caught?”

  Of course. You did it with your mother, didn’t you? You were brilliant there. You did the best acting job I’ve ever seen. No one ever suspected you.

  Hilde nodded. “That’s true. And it was surprisingly easy.”

  So, if we need to kill Ilsa we’ll be just as convincing. The Valkyrie smiled and tilted her head. You must find out what she needs and make yourself useful to her. Get close to her again. Very close. Then strike!

  “You’re so right.”

  I am you, Hilde. I am the beautiful and brilliant Valkyrie that lives within you.

  “Yes, you are, and you have always been.” Hilde put her hand on the mirror. It met the hand in the reflection. She smiled.

  CHAPTER 51

  That night, after Ilsa left and Anatol was asleep, Hilde confronted Axel with what Ilsa told her about Anatol.

  “Where did you find Anatol?”

  “I told you, in Berlin.”

  “Liar!”

  “I am not lying to you.”

  “Why do you insist on lying? Tell me the truth. Tell me because I already know. You took him from the children’s camp at Ravensbrück, didn’t you? Ilsa told me. And now she’s claiming he’s Jewish. You should have told me. You shouldn’t have lied to me.”

  “He is not Jewish,” Axel exclaimed. “She’s making this up. He’s not Jewish. But he is Polish, and I did take him from the children’s camp.” Axel slumped down into the living room chair.

  “Why did you lie to me?”

  He looked at the floor, then he shrugged his shoulders and nodded his head. “I was only trying to help you. I only did it because I love you.” There was an awkward silence. Then he added, “Shall I return him to the children’s camp? I can return him. But if I do, he will probably be dead in a few months.”

  Hilde felt her heart sink. She had come to love the child. “No. You must not take him back there, ever. Ilsa is going to get rid of his mother, then she will never come looking for him.”

  “And what about Ilsa? She knows? Can we trust her?”

  “I don’t know. That’s my biggest concern,” Hilde admitted.

  “We could always deny it. It would be her word against ours,” Axel said.

  “You don’t know her as well as I do. Ilsa has very important friends. They would take her word before ours.”

  “Do you think she would betray you?”

  “I don’t think so; she would warn me first. After all, she has no reason to turn us in. But if she ever wants anything from me, she will use this knowledge to her advantage.”

  “You mean blackmail?” Axel asked.

  “Yes, exactly. Knowing Anatol could be a Jewish child gives her power over us. And to protect him we would have to give her whatever she asks for.”

  “Well, let’s hope there is never anything she needs or wants from us.”

  “Yes, maybe,” Hilde said. “But knowing Ilsa as I do, I think it’s just a matter of time.”

  CHAPTER 52

  A week later, Ilsa knocked on Hilde’s door.

  “Hello, my friend,” Ilsa said, wearing a big smile on her face. Her golden hair was lovely as it picked up the rays of sunlight. “So you don’t look happy to see me?” She frowned.

  “Of course I am happy to see you,” Hilde said. “Come on in.”

  “You have a beer?” Ilsa asked.

  “Sure. Let me get you one.”

  “I’ve come to tell you that you need not worry about the boy’s mother anymore. I took care of her.”

  “She’s dead?”

  “Yes, she’s dead. It was easy, and now my little nephew’s secret is safe. Now, with his mother gone, only you and I know the truth. Everyone will see him as an Aryan.” She smiled sweetly, but Hilde could see her streak of cruelty shining from behind her cold, hard eyes.

  Hilde trembled. “He is Aryan.”

  Then Ilsa patted Hilde’s hand and said, “So.” She reached up and touched Hilde’s cheek. “Now you are indebted to me, aren’t you, dear? And, of course, I will take your secret to the grave . . . unless . . . you betray me somehow. But, of course, you would never do that, would you? And I know how you can show your gratitude for my cleaning up your little mess.”

  “How can I show you? What do you want?” Hilde asked. She was trembling with fear. But she was also thinking about the Valkyrie. Get close to her. Learn her secrets.

  “In return for keeping your little secret from Axel and everyone else, I want you to help me. As you already know the Jews bring all their valuable possessions with them when they come to the camp. Before their stuff is logged in, I want you to steal everything you can that is of value and give it to me. Now you had better be sure that this little exchange of ours stays between you and I. Do you understand me? Or little Anatol will suffer the consequences of your actions.”

  “I’ve never betrayed you, Ilsa. I never would.”

  “Why don’t you get me another beer? Where are your manners, little Butterball?” Ilsa said mockingly.

  Hilde was frightened. She got up to get another beer for Ilsa and as she did she saw the Valkyrie reflected in the kitchen window. She thinks she has us, the Valkyrie
said, smiling and calming Hilde’s nerves. But don’t be afraid. Be patient. We will prevail as we always have.

  Hilde handed Ilsa the beer.

  “Didn’t you recently go off to Berlin to visit your friend Gretchen Schmidt, your Jew-lover friend, who you thought was so wonderful? She is far from wonderful. Yet you go to see her, but you don’t come to see me.”

  Hilde stared at Ilsa, surprised. “How did you know that I went to see Gretchen?”

  “Oh, come now, sweetheart. You know that news travels fast among my friends in the SS. I also know that she was arrested.” She smiled, glaring at Hilde, her eyes devoid of emotion, looking as if they had turned to glass again.

  “Do you know where Gretchen is?” Hilde asked. She was humbled.

  “But, of course, I know. And you know what? I am going to bring her to Ravensbrück. She’s always had so much power over you. You are like a little dog that follows her around. Now we can play games with her, and she can be the bitch dog.”

  “Can you really bring here here?”

  “You know I can. It’s whether I choose to or not—that is the question. She was going to be sent to Dachau, but once they went back into her history and found out that her father was a Jew lover too, they decided to send her to Auschwitz.”

  “Oh no!” Hilde gasped.

  “And that Jew she was hiding? The one who was living under a fake name with Aryan papers that said she was Eva something or other? She’s in Auschwitz too. They’ll both probably die there.”

  “Oh, Ilsa, you must bring her here.” Hilde was reduced to a frightened child. She needed Ilsa again.

  “I’ll bet Gretchen regrets her efforts to protect that little Jew now because now your Aryan friend is as worthless as a Jew. In fact, she probably shares a lice-infested bed of straw with one.” Ilsa stood up and began to pace the room like a tiger about to attack. “Some of the guards say Auschwitz is so bad that it makes Ravensbrück look like a summer camp.”

  “Please, unless you can do something to help, I don’t want to hear anymore,” Hilde said.

  Ilsa stared at Hilde. She was smiling but her eyes glared. “And you thought that Gretchen was a better friend to you than I? You think I didn’t know that you invited Gretchen to your wedding. Everyone says you call her your best friend. Oh Hilde, I thought I was your best friend.” She shook her head in mock anger. “I thought so until you planned your wedding knowing that I would not be able to attend because I couldn’t get off work. But of course we both knew that you didn’t want me there.”

  “That’s not true.” Hilde was lying, but her tone of voice was begging for mercy. “Please, you must believe me. I didn’t do that intentionally, Ilsa. It was not possible to arrange a time when we were both able to take off together.”

  “Oh really! Well, you could have fooled me,” Ilsa sneered. “Anyway, no matter.” She smiled wickedly. Her eyes twinkled, then she added, “It certainly sounds like you had quite the visit back home to Berlin this time, didn’t you? And you really should be quite proud of yourself for what you did to Gretchen.”

  “Proud? That is the last thing I feel right now,” Hilde said, staring at the floor, defeated.

  “Oh yes, word got back to Ravensbrück, and everyone is calling you a hero. After all, it was you who discovered that your friend Gretchen was a common criminal and you had the courage to turn her in.” Ilsa’s tone was filled with syrupy sarcasm. “Just look at you, Butterball; you look as if you are about to be sick. Well, don’t you worry, I already put the papers in to have Gretchen brought here. She will be your housekeeper. I’ve planned it so that she’ll watch the boy. That will enable you to come back to work and start paying off your debt to me.”

  Hilde wanted to cry. She wanted to lay down on the sofa and let the tears flow until she had no more left. But she dared not. Ilsa is dangerous. She’s always been dangerous. How could I have ever thought she would help me with Gretchen? She’s cruel and heartless. I don’t give a damn what happens to that Rebecca Jew bitch, but Gretchen has been my friend for so many years. And now to make matters worse, Hilde knows a terrible and frightening truth about my little boy. If she didn’t have so many important friends I would kill her right now. I would take a kitchen knife and stab her. No, what am I thinking, that is too messy. I would poison her the same way I poisoned my mother. But I don’t dare do anything. I am trapped. She has me where she wants me, and there is nothing I can do. I have to let her live at least until Gretchen arrives here.

  “Thank you . . . thank you, Ilsa, for everything. You’ll see I’ll steal plenty for you.”

  “Oh, please stop with the dramatics; don’t be so frightened,” Ilsa said. “You don’t like that I have so much power over you now, do you? Well, don’t let it worry you. I’m sure I’ll never need to use it.”

  Just then Anatol came running out of his bedroom, his blond hair bouncing as his fat little legs carried him right into Hilde’s arms. He gave her a kiss then turned to Ilsa and raised his arms in the air. “Pick me up, Auntie Ilsa. I want to give you a kiss,” he said.

  “Of course, my precious, little nephew,” Ilsa said, lifting the boy and allowing him to kiss her cheek. Then she glanced over at Hilde and smiled. Her smile made the hair on the back of Hilde’s neck stand straight up. Ilsa gave Anatol a kiss, but her bright blue eyes were as hard as glass.

  CHAPTER 53

  A Village in Poland

  Eli was thin and weak. He’d lost so much weight that the skin on his face had folded in on itself, causing deep wrinkles that made him look much older than he was. He was tired, hungry, and thirsty, but he continued to walk. Often he felt alone and had to remind himself that God was always with him. Sometimes, when he was very hot and miserable, he would think of Moses in the desert. In the heat of the day he lay down beneath a tree and prayed until the sun went down and he regained enough strength to walk again. Eli ate grass, and insects. Sometimes he would smile to himself as he contemplated the farce of life. If my friend Yossi were here, he and I could sit for hours and debate whether it is acceptable to eat insects because they are the only sustenance I have. Eli chucked as he remembered Yossi. My dear friend Yossi, how he loved to debate anything and everything. I wonder how he and his family are doing. I pray that they have somehow escaped. I pray that they are alive. The only thing that matters is life. But for me it is not so much my own life as the lives of those I love, my bashert, Gretchen, and my dear Rebecca. Then he began to pray again. Please Hashem, watch over them both. I wish I could be with them. I wish I had the power to protect them. But my presence would only bring them danger. He prayed for hours, begging God to keep Rebecca’s secret from their tormentors. He pleaded with God to help both Gretchen and Rebecca to have enough food and to remain safe.

  Eli rested, then he got up and began to walk again. He reached the top of a hill. When he looked down, he saw a village. It was a small village and the sight of it and the thought of people terrified him. But if he could find work for a day, he might be able to get some real food. So, even though it was safer to stay in the forest, something compelled him to walk down the hill and into the little town. When he first arrived he was afraid that everyone would know he was Jewish. People glanced at him, and he wondered if it was because he was a stranger or because he looked like a Jew. He heard people speaking, negotiating with street vendors. And he instantly knew that even though there were Nazi flags hanging from the buildings, he had somehow traveled into Poland. At least my father taught me to speak Polish he thought.

  The local priest was standing outside his small church. Eli walked by him, trying not to meet his eyes. But when Eli looked up, the priest was smiling at him. I must be filthy, Eli thought. He feels sorry for me. I can see it in his face.

  “Hello, my son,” the priest said.

  “Hello,” Eli answered tentatively. I should get out of this village before I am discovered and arrested. I don’t really understand why there is still a church here and how this priest is still practicing.
I thought the Nazis had abolished religion. I can see that the Nazis have taken over this village because of all of their flags flying and pictures of Hitler on the walls.

  “You look awfully hungry.”

  Eli nodded.

  “Do you need work?”

  “Yes,” Eli said, staring at the ground.

  “I suppose I am in luck, then.” The kindly priest smiled. “I could use a good handyman. How are your skills with a bucket of paint?” the priest asked.

  Eli felt a shiver go up his spine. Is this man setting me up? Does he know I am a Jew? Is he going to turn me in? “I’m not much of a handyman. And I don’t know how to paint.”

  “Well,” the priest said with a warm smile, “there isn’t really much to it. I can show you how to do it. How does a good meal sound in exchange for painting the rectory?”

  Eli felt a rush of saliva fill his mouth. I am so hungry. It’s worth the risk. I can’t go another day without real food, he thought. “Yes, I’ll do it.”

  “Well, that’s good. Come on inside, and I’ll find you something to eat.”

  CHAPTER 54

  Eli wanted to show his gratitude to the priest, so he worked as hard as he could. He’d never done manual labor before, and although it was exhausting, he found it gratifying too. By the time the sun began to set, Eli had gotten halfway through painting the rectory. The priest came outside to find Eli still at work.

  “That’s enough for today. Come in and have some soup and bread. Would you like to stay the night? You can finish your work in the morning. There is a bed downstairs, where you can sleep.”

  Eli knew he should not trust anyone. He was Jew, a hunted man. All it would take was a call to the Gestapo, and he would find himself behind bars. But there was something about the priest that reminded him of his father and Eli trusted him. He remembered how his father would bring home poor and hungry people and offer them a place at the family table. “Yes, I can stay. And thank you so much for your generosity and kindness,” Eli said.