“You’ll meet some of the most extraordinary people here.”
This place was so different from everything that it was supposed to be, all the promises. Sam Raggle had to be told. My detail was expanding.
“Have you written to Sophie?” David asked.
“I have.”
“She’ll be around tomorrow. And she’ll be surprised to see you. Sophie helps with the paper when she can. I’ve organized one called Vedem. It means ‘In the Lead.’ We provide news, well some news, for Terezín. More than five thousand people are reading it. And we can only produce one copy of each edition. Think of it, Max, that’s some circulation, some readership. Funds from Jewish relief agencies help with food and clothes, and paper.”
Flipping his eyeshade, David resumed his routine as if we were still at home, as if we were still at work on the school paper. “I need a good reporter. Since you’re here, you can be my eyes and ears. You ready?”
“Of course. But tell me, have you read anything good I should know about?”
“In Czech or German?”
“How about in American?” I asked.
“American?”
“Yeah, American. ‘How’s ya get here? Maybe I better not tell, because dey’s reasons.’”
“You’re reading Huckleberry Finn? It’s an education, Max, that’s a great book.” David smiled.
“Ava gave me a copy.”
“Who’s Ava?”
“My teacher.”
“Your teacher? Where?” He frowned.
“She’s a good woman, and plenty smart. I think we can learn a lot from her. It’s an opportunity to read and know more, at least for me. I would have never known about Mark Twain if it weren’t for Ava.”
“Well, you’re reading about freedom.”
“I haven’t gotten that far.”
“You will, and when you do, you’ll find prejudice, like we have here.”
“How so?”
“You may not like the sound of this, Max, but right now we’re niggers. We’re like Jim.”
The word jolted me.
“What’s happening here, what’s happening to us reminds me of the slaves who were bought and sold, separated from family, who lived lives of pain and suffering, but at the same time, wherever they were, they found a way to survive; they could sing and pray and somehow endure, even overcome unimaginable hardship. Yes, it’s an ugly word but that’s what we are here and now—niggers. I hate the word, I hate the thought. You know it was the last word black men heard before they were lynched. Imagine that, Max.” David spoke with an intensity and a fury that I had rarely heard in his voice. There was more to this place than I had imagined, and it seemed that there was much more to Huck than I knew so far.
“It’s a good book,” David said. “An important book. We should always look for what matters most, Max. Sometimes you can find the answers. You have to have the right books of course.”
He took me down a flight of stairs to a large hall occupying the entire second floor, a row of narrow beds in a room with high windows every ten feet.
“Here’s where the Jewish kids live. Young kids from all over Europe. They’re out on a field trip with Sarah now. You’ll meet her. We’re trying to make things normal, at least to make them seem as normal as we can. We do it for the children but for ourselves as well. We’ve got some great people around. Have you ever seen The Blue Angel with Marlene Dietrich?”
My heart skipped a beat. “Is she here?”
“No, but her costar, Kurt Gerron, is, and he’s made a lot of movies.”
“What kind of movies?”
“As Twain would say, that’s for your learnin’, boy, and for Vedem to publish.” David spoke with an exaggerated American twang.
I was running late. I still hadn’t seen Sophie, but I had to get back to the Brankas’ and couldn’t be late for dinner.
A BLUE STAR
Camp Commandant Freidle joined us for supper, and I had to stop myself from bombarding him with questions as soon as he walked through the door. Pouring myself a cup of pea soup from a silver ladle, I couldn’t keep silent any longer.
“Can I wear a yellow star?”
“No, no, it is not for you, Max,” his hand stopped in midair as he tried to sip from a bowl of erbsensuppe.
“How about a blue one?”
“Blue?”
“I’m color blind.” It sounded reasonable to me. “The guards can identify me on sight. Security, Commandant.”
Blue was Sophie’s favorite color, I remembered.
Freidle was quiet for a moment. “Yes, Max, it does make sense. You can wear a blue one.”
I pushed my luck.
“Can you help get a piano for Hans? He is a great composer, as you know, and—”
“A piano?”
“There’s no piano anywhere in the camp … in the village.”
“How is that possible? We’re German! Are you sure we have no piano?”
I shook my head.
“No piano,” he mourned.
Lifting my head and stroking my chin slightly, I played my next card. “I’m sure my father would want us to have one. I know how much you appreciate music.”
Freidle nodded. “We will see what can be arranged. How are you finding your lessons with Ava?”
“I like her a lot! She’s smart and pretty.”
“A boy of kindness.” Ava blushed.
“I’m sure she is as good as any teacher you had in Prague.”
“You seem to know a lot about me.” I tried to sound jovial.
“I know about your interest in music, your pals.”
“I have just one more request.” I was testing my powers of persuasion. Clearly, I was privileged here. I needed to know how privileged.
A slow hmmmmmmm emerged from the commandant.
“Can my best friend, David, join my class, if it’s all right with Mrs. Branka?”
“What do you think, Ava?”
“It would be good company for Max. Maybe he would like to invite Sophie too.”
“Who’s Sophie?”
“She’s my girlfriend.”
“Why not? It’s nice to have classmates,” Freidle said in an agreeable sort of way.
A few days later, another photograph found its way to Freidle’s desk. Ava’s handwriting was becoming even more artistic.
To Siegfried,
We are your biggest fans.
Regards from 42nd Street,
Ruby Keeler and Dick Powell
I was beginning to make progress, but with matters of the heart I was quite hopeless. More than anything I looked forward to seeing Sophie again. I felt confident one minute and not ready for the next. I seemed to be falling somewhere between anxiety and happiness. Was that falling in love? It felt to me like the kind of stuff that songs and poems were made of.
Making my way up the stairs to the Vedem office with a box under my arm, I was caught off-guard by a wonderfully familiar voice: “That wouldn’t be Max Mueller, would it?”
I held my breath. I wasn’t ready to respond as quickly as I should have. I couldn’t find any words at all. Cornflower blue eyes looked up at me. “Sophie!” I exclaimed. Then I stuttered, “Th-they wouldn’t let me come any sooner.”
“No need to explain.” She grinned. “We’re just today out of quarantine. The last in the whole camp.”
Above us was a skylight between the upper landing and the afternoon sky. She took my hand and again I couldn’t think of a thing to say. All the words that I had planned vanished. It had happened too soon and yet not nearly soon enough. I glanced at my watch. The magic hour, twelve o’clock, noon. I would never forget the exact moment, the exact minute, the exact time.
“Come with me, Max.”
Reaching the top of the dusty landi
ng, I noticed Sophie’s favorite dress was torn and dirty and sporting a yellow star. Even so, she was just the same as when we first met, her features softened by the light of a late afternoon sun filtered through the glass. She was perfect, and I realized that I didn’t need to say anything, that there were no words to express how I felt at that moment.
“Well now, Mr. Mueller, I’ve been waiting for you.”
“I came as soon as I could.”
“I knew you were here.”
“You didn’t. Who told you?”
“Word gets around when somebody like you arrives.”
“Any other secrets?”
“Just between you and me. It’s up to us to keep them or break them.”
“I’ll be keeping mine.”
“And you brought medicine for the infirmary.”
“You know about that too?”
“Sulfur, drugs for pain, bandages—a welcome gift, Max. We live in constant fear of a typhoid epidemic breaking out.”
“It wasn’t so hard.”
“Except you could have been arrested on the spot. I can’t tell you how amazed we were to find it hidden under copies of that … horrible book.”
“I imagine Hans can use the covers to disguise some other books in his library.”
“Is that the reason you came?”
“Sophie, I’m here because of you. There are some other reasons, but you’re the main one, the real one.”
“Are you sure, Max?”
“I’m very sure.”
“We have a lot to catch up on. So much is happening here.”
“Are you listening to music? Are there concerts we can attend?”
“Some of the finest musicians in Europe are here.”
“And they are all Jewish?”
“They are, and we can all cling on to the hope that we’re here only for a short time. Until we can make it to our homeland.”
“I’d like to make that trip with you. We’ll add some background music. Just like the movies.”
“You are a romantic.”
“I think you have turned me into one.”
She beamed. “I want to introduce you to Sarah, my best friend. And Rabbi Leo Baeck, you’ll have to meet him too. Don’t ask me about him now—it’s too much to talk about right this second. But when you meet him, you’ll know why he’s so important.”
“Where are you living, Sophie?”
“Over in our barracks. We’re some of the luckier ones.”
“Lucky?”
“It could be so much worse, but still, Max, we were expecting so much more.”
“I’ve been learning about the gap between what you were promised, what everyone was promised, and what you have all been given. But tell me, how’s your mother?”
“She’s … well she’ll be happy to see you. I hope soon.”
“I’m not sure I understand this place.”
“Have you seen David? He’ll fill you in.”
“I plan to join his staff.”
“That’s great. Particularly if you have special privileges here.”
“Special privileges?”
“Of course, Max. You’re special, you know that, I mean you’re different. You must understand that.”
“I hope not. If you mean not being Jewish, then I’ll find a way not to be so different.”
Sophie touched my cheek.
“Max, the way to learn things is to keep your eyes open, really open. Now, just look around you and you’ll soon see how things are. And in the meantime, I want to know more about what you’ve been doing. How is your father, the Great Viktor Mueller?”
I paused before answering. “That is a simple question, but I’m not sure the answer is so easy. Poppy is doing a lot of things. I have a lot to tell you.”
“Do you think he can send more medicine? It’s desperately needed.”
“I’m sure he can.”
She placed her head on my shoulder, and I liked that a lot.
“If I’d known I was going to see you today, I would have worn my hat.”
“I’m glad you didn’t forget me. I wrote you all the time.”
“I never received any letters.”
“What?”
“I really didn’t. Things are different here, difficult in so many ways.”
“Surprise! I have a job; every letter will be delivered from now on.”
“How can that be?”
“I’m working at the post office.”
“Really?” She laughed.
“I’ll be making some changes. Just consider me special delivery.”
“I don’t see a stamp.”
I kissed her. “There’s your stamp. Letters are important, not just who they’re from, but who receives them, especially from someone you’re waiting for. I happen to have a package to deliver that just arrived.”
I gave her the box that Fritz had wrapped, making it official. It contained some nice new clothes from Ava, two pretty dresses, pencils, paper, needles, and thread.
“Who’s it from?”
“Hmmmm. No return address.”
“You’re something special, Max Mueller.”
“If that’s true, then you make me so.”
A GRAND ARRIVAL
There was a message from Freidle posted on my door.
Max, meet me tomorrow morning before class. Bring Hans Krása along. I’ve made arrangements.
Arrangements?
I got up early and went to collect Hans. We met Freidle and crossed a road to a long stretch of wet lawn rolling down to the river and a rickety old pier. The air was chilly.
“Nice morning,” I said, rubbing my hands and adjusting the new blue star that hung on my gray cotton blazer. Hans stared at the patch of rich periwinkle, and turned away, saying nothing.
The mist shifted, bringing a cooler wind and a touch of clear sky. Just as the sun broke, rays of light bounced across the water. Right on cue, we heard the strains of Haydn’s Surprise Symphony. A narrow barge pulled by a tugboat came into view over a floor of fog. On the deck, a man played a piano. It was Hans’s own grand that Camp Commandant Freidle had brought up the river from Prague. The film-loving commandant had staged a showboat! I had seen musketeers with swords jumping from rooftops, heroic aviators dodging each other in epic battles, casts of thousands dancing down staircases, but a floating piano being played on a barge slipping over water through a curtain of weeping willows?
Freidle turned to me with an oversized smile. “You see, my boy? Hollywood.”
Hans didn’t speak, but I saw a tear on his cheek.
“I think you’re pretty good, Commandant Freidle, pretty good.”
His “production” deserved a reward.
The following day on the commandant’s desk was a gorgeous photograph of Hedy Lamarr, with a note written in an elegant flourish:
Dearest Siegfried,
My darling. You are the most special man I’ve ever known.
Hedy
I didn’t think he would have known that she might be Jewish.
Freidle’s staff began asking him about the actresses featured in his office, and each inquiry was answered with an understatement. He had probably figured where they were coming from by this time, but he played along.
“Oh, that’s just Hedy.”
Eventually they were all framed and formed a special Hollywood gallery on his wall.
But most important, over the following months, pianos began arriving in a more conventional way. In fact, a spinet even showed up in our quarters, and I couldn’t wait to get back to my craft.
There was a milk dispatch the following morning, and I had more to report. Incidental news about the Brankas, my job at the post office, impressions of the village, and a dozen regulations.
We’ve gotten Hans a piano. David is okay, and he’s editing a paper here called Vedem.
PT
Although, I hadn’t had a chance to gather specific incidents, I added a footnote.
Terezín is strange; not what I expected. Many people look lost, hungry, tired, confused. They are doing what they can to get by. I can’t really tell you quite what this place is yet, but I do know what it isn’t. It is not a spa. I’ll let you know more as soon as I know more.
I waited until evening, scanning everything around me to make sure no one would see me. When I was sure it was all clear, I dispatched my note and slipped away. I was doing something, and I had to believe that in some small way it was making a difference. I was a reporter, but I didn’t quite know all the facts.
At our first class, Sophie looked pale and exhausted. She had stepped back into my life, and it was more than a movie. It was real. I could hardly find words to express how the colors she brought with her were painting my world. But written in her face were the everyday worries of her life. So many hours at the infirmary, looking after her mama, the need for medicine, a clean place to sleep. Sophie deserved so much more, the freedom to breathe, to be happy, to be alive, to believe in something. I needed to help her, to allow her the promise of something different, something better.
David shook me from my reverie by asking Ava about Germany and the Jews.
“Why are we being driven away from our homes?”
Mrs. Branka probably thought that we should not be discussing politics. She tried to answer: “It’s a political situation.”
“But we’ve been taken from our homes,” David persisted. “Isn’t it a matter of fanaticism? Of toxic, virulent anti-Semitism?”
I turned to virulent in my dictionary. No question about it. The Germans were spreading hate.
“David, much you say is true, and I assure you the matters bothers me greatly. I’m Czech and not German,” Mrs. Branka replied, trying to regain control of our small class.
David wouldn’t let up.
“The Czechs are just saying, ‘Come on in. You want to kill a few folks, fine, hang those red-and-black flags, looks great, after all we need a few swastikas to decorate the landscape. You want to destroy an entire culture, come on in. Oh, we’re just Jews, it doesn’t matter.’”
While the Music Played Page 21