Mendel couldn’t watch the show. He kept glancing over at Katja.
“Are you sure you’re all right?” he whispered in her ear.
“Yes, don’t worry about me, please. I just have a little headache.”
“Do you want to go home? I’ll tell Harvey that we have to leave.”
“No, no really. Mendel, I’m fine.”
Katja’s mind was like a movie reel that she was unable to stop. All of her memories of Elan played over and over on the screen behind her eyes. Seeing him again had awakened the pain that Katja had fooled herself into believing was a part of her past. Oh, how she had loved him, more than she could ever say. Elan had hurt her so deeply that she thought she might never recover. He had hurt her the way only someone you truly love can hurt you, a slice through the heart that might grow a scab but was never truly healed. That scab was always waiting to be torn off by a memory and start the bleeding all over again.
She thought of his eyes and then of the first time she and Elan had made love. Katja had been so nervous that night. He was her first lover. Elan was the first man who had ever seen her without her clothes. She’d been so afraid and shy, but he was gentle and adoring.
Then her stomach heaved a little as she thought of the day they’d become engaged. How happy she’d been on that day. Her mind replayed their trips to the sea. The breeze off the water blew through his hair as Elan took her hand and led her to the ocean. With the sun shining behind his head, he’d lifted her high in the air then gently brought her down into the water and kissed her.
Katja longed to be alone. She wished she could leave this auditorium filled with laughing people. If only she could go to her room, lock the door and weep. Weep for what was, what could have been, and most of all weep for that horrible day, the day that he’d come to the kibbutz and learned the truth. She had wanted to, but she could not lie to him. She’d told him that her father was an SS officer and her mother was a good, solid German. It wasn’t her fault. She’d fallen to her knees and begged him to understand. She had pleaded with him to accept her, but in truth, she did not accept herself.
Katja had only learned the truth about her background a day earlier. She’d been preparing dinner when she heard her name and her mother’s name spoken by someone on the radio. She ran into the living room to find that the station was airing the trial of Manfred Blau, the SS officer. It was being featured all over Israel on every radio station. How could this strange man, this arrested Nazi know both Katja, and Zofia by name? Katja felt faint, but she needed to know the truth.
She’d left everything as it was in the kitchen. Then she got into her car and drove to the kibbutz where she found her mother. When confronted, Zofia admitted that what Katja heard was true. Yes, Zofia confessed, her head hung low as she told Katja the facts. Manfred Blau and his wife Christa had adopted Katja from the home for the Lebensborn. Zofia was a prisoner in the concentration camp where Blau worked. He’d taken her into his house to care for Katja because his wife, Christa, was ill.
“I loved you from the beginning,” Zofia said. Then she went on to explain, “When there was an uprising at the camp, Christa helped me to escape. Years passed. I thought I would never see you again, but I missed you so much. I never stopped thinking about you, praying for you,” Zofia said.
“Later, after the war was over, I was living in a displaced prisoners’ camp. A lawyer came and asked me to testify against Manfred at his trial at Nuremberg. It was there in court that I saw Christa for the first time since my escape from the camp. Christa knew she was dying, and there was no doubt Manfred would be convicted and put in prison.
“That night Christa came to see me in my hotel room. She asked me if I would take you and raise you as my own child. Oh Katja, I was so happy to have you. It was like my prayer had been answered. As you grew from a small child to a young woman, I knew I should tell you everything, but I couldn’t find the words. I had no doubt that the truth would hurt you, and I couldn’t bear to see you in pain.
So it just seemed as if the right time to tell you never came. And if Manfred Blau had not escaped from prison and been brought to trial again, I am ashamed to admit it, but you might never have learned the truth. I know I was wrong. But forgive me, please. It was only because I love you that I kept this from you,” Zofia said.
To Katja, the truth was a cannon ball that shattered her heart. In just a few moments, her entire life lost all credibility. She was living a lie. Katja knew that Elan must know the truth, or their marriage would also be based on falsehoods. So she’d done the only thing she could do—she told Elan. And then her deepest fears were realized. He’d broken the engagement.
The devastation at losing the man she loved was unbearable. Katja didn’t know where to begin her life again. The only world she’d ever known was crushed. That was when Mendel, who was her best friend at the time, had blessedly taken over.
Katja felt that she would never have closure until she found her birth mother. It would be impossible for her to go on with her life without meeting the woman who’d given her up to the Nazis, so Mendel agreed to help. He took Katja and Zofia first to Switzerland and after meeting Helga’s sister-in-law then to Germany. The three of them hunted for Katja’s birthmother until they found her. Katja had expected a Nazi, but what she found was a pathetic old woman filled with regrets and guilt.
Her name was Helga Haswell on her Lebensborn birth certificate. It was at a general store outside of Munich that they found someone who knew Helga and gave them directions to the Hoffman farm.
To Katja’s surprise, she was an ordinary woman, a farmer’s wife. Helga’s skin was wrinkled from years of working in the sun. Her blonde hair was now more of a washed-out yellow and was sprinkled with gray. This plain, commonplace woman was the result of her quest. When she’d begun looking for her birth mother, Katja had no idea what she was expecting to find, perhaps a villain, a horrible Nazi woman with muscles like a man, or a witch from a fairy tale. But in the end, she’d found a person far less dramatic.
At first, it was difficult to speak. There was so much to say and yet, so little. Then as soon as she regained some composure, Katja asked Helga every question that came to mind. Once she’d learned all that she could about her past, Katja, Zofia, and Mendel returned home to Israel.
Little by little, slowly, carefully, and with the vigilant but loving hands of an artist, Mendel took the broken pieces of Katja’s life and molded them back together. Katja loved him. She loved him with all her heart. How then is it possible that she still had feelings for Elan? Damn Elan. Damn him for being so handsome, so tall and dark, so sexy, so Israeli, and so strong.
Katja glanced over at Mendel, at the familiar line of his profile. She had no doubt that he really loved her, and he was such a good father to Ima. The betrayal Katja felt in her heart sickened her.
Across the auditorium, in less expensive seats, Janice laughed at the comedian and squeezed her husband’s hand. She never noticed that he was not laughing or that his hands were clammy. He’d been so excited about the baby that at this very moment, Janice felt that her life was perfect. Soon she would be a mother.
Janice laughed again and laid her head on Elan’s chest. Distractedly he patted her hair. What was it about Katja that bewitched him? Was it her beauty? Was it the love they’d once shared? Perhaps it was that, in truth, he’d never stopped loving her. Katja was somewhere in this auditorium. Who was she with, a man? Had she met someone else? Was she married? Katja! He wanted to stand up and call her name—loud—loud enough that wherever she was, she would hear him. He wanted to cry out “Katja!” over and over until he found her again. But instead, he just sat beside his wife and gazed at the stage, dazed and unseeing.
CHAPTER 29
Katja quietly stared out of the window of the car in silence on the drive home. Mendel was afraid her headache might be getting worse. He hoped she was not seriously ill. When they arrived at the house, he ran to open the car door and help her out.
“I’ll check on Ima. You go and get ready for bed.”
“I just want to make sure she’s all right, and then I’ll get undressed,” Katja said.
“How was she tonight, Mom?” Mendel asked Zofia.
“I think she’s fine. She was better after a couple of hours. She ate and had no fever, so whatever was bothering her seems to have passed.”
Katja leaned down and gently kissed Ima’s soft pink cheek. The baby slept so peacefully that it made Katja’s heart swell.
“I’ll carry her to bed. You go to sleep, Mom. You need to get some rest,” Mendel said to Zofia. “And you go lie down, too, sweetheart. I’ll be right in.”
Katja went to her room while Zofia straightened up the living room. She put away the storybooks and toys that she and Ima had played with earlier that evening.
Mendel laid Ima in her bed and covered her with a blanket. She did not awaken but turned over and put her thumb in her mouth. For a few moments, Mendel stood watching her. He knew that they should stop her from sucking her thumb, but he secretly loved the way she looked with her tiny perfect thumb in her mouth, so peaceful, so contented. How he loved his wife and child, how he loved the life he’d made for them. If only he could rid himself of the nagging guilt that always crept into his mind when he remembered what he’d done. It was as if he’d sold his soul to the devil. His throat felt dry, and he swallowed hard. Then gently, he kissed Ima’s cheek. Her eyes half opened slowly.
“Papa,” she said in barely a whisper.
“Yes, darling, Mama and I are home. How do you feel?”
Ima smiled and nodded, then put her thumb back in her mouth, closed her eyes, and drifted back into slumber.
“How was the show?” Zofia asked.
“It was good.”
“I’m going to bed. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Zofia stood up and stretched. “Goodnight.”
“Goodnight,” Mendel said. He took two aspirins from a bottle in the cabinet and put up a pot of water for tea. Then he stared at the pills, the guilt tapping the back of his brain as he waited for the water, to boil. He would bring the tea and aspirin to Katja for her headache.
Katja was already in bed when Mendel came in.
“Here, sweetheart, I brought this for your headache.”
She smiled. “Thank you.” Katja took the aspirin even though she didn’t have a headache and sipped the tea. “Your boss seems like a nice man.”
“Yes, I suppose.” Mendel didn’t want to tell her about what he’d done to get the drug approved. He didn’t want to alarm her. No need. He would fix this. It was his problem, and he’d find a solution…somehow.
“His wife is lovely, too.”
“This is the first time I’ve met her. She seems nice,” Mendel said.
Katja put the half-empty china teacup on the night table beside her bed.
Mendel got in beside her. He would have loved to take her into his arms, to hold her and find comfort in their love, but he knew she was not feeling well. So Mendel just reached over and touched Katja’s shoulder, and then he turned off the light.
“I love you.”
“I love you, too, Mendel.” Katja was glad he had not tried to make love tonight. She wanted to be alone with her thoughts about Elan. She needed to sort things out in her mind.
Katja heard Mendel’s steady breathing and knew he’d fallen asleep. It was not as easy for her to rest. She watched the tree branches sway in the wind outside her bedroom window and thought of Elan. If anything, he looked even better than he did the last time she saw him. And when his eyes locked with hers, she felt that same old tingling. Just the idea that he still had that effect on her made her want to vomit. She was so angry with herself. It took several hours before she finally fell asleep.
CHAPTER 30
The loud knock at the door pierced the silence of the night. Mendel got out of bed. He didn’t want to awaken Katja, so he didn’t turn the light on. In his bare feet and pajamas, he opened the door.
“CPL Mendel Zaltstein?” It was an Israeli soldier dressed in full uniform.
“Yes?”
“Israel is going to war. We need you.”
Mendel felt a chill run down his spine. This was the message every Israeli dreaded hearing. Katja came out of their bedroom with a robe wrapped around her, and Zofia opened the door to her room.
“What’s going on?” Zofia asked.
Katja stood motionless.
“Israel is going to war,” Mendel said in a small voice.
“To war?” Katja said.
“I have to go.” Mendel took Katja into his arms.
“Now? You have to leave right now? Where are you going?”
“I don’t know. But yes, I have to leave now.”
Katja began to cry. Mendel held her, squeezing her in his strong arms and trying to memorize everything he could about her. He had no idea how long he would be gone or if he would ever return. This was what it meant to be an Israeli. He took in the smell of her hair, the warmth of her skin the taste of her tears as he kissed her face and lips.
“I’m sorry. But there is no time to lose—you must hurry,” the soldier said.
Mendel nodded. Katja nodded.
With trembling, sweaty hands, Mendel grabbed the duffle bag he’d used in the IDF and packed his toothbrush, underclothes, a pair of pants, two tee shirts, and a picture of Katja smiling and holding Ima. Then he tossed the duffel bag over his shoulder and returned to the living room. Now all the lights were on in the house. Zofia was holding Katja, who was almost unable to stand on her own.
Ima still slept. Mendel tiptoed into the baby’s room and gently touched the top of her head. Then he planted a soft kiss on her cheek. She was so precious. Would he ever see his daughter, his child, again? Ima stirred. Mendel swallowed hard and then went back into the living room where his wife and mother-in-law stood, both of them looking disoriented.
“I’ll be back soon,” Mendel said, smiling at Katja as bravely as he could. But the truth was that he didn’t know if or when he would return. “I love you. God, how I love you,” he said as he took Katja into his arms and held her, again whispering the words into her ear.
“I love you, Mendel. Come back to us… Please, Mendel, come back to us.” She shook him hard as if, by shaking him, she could make sure that he promised to return. “Promise me, Mendel. You’ve never broken a promise to me. Promise me you’ll be back.”
“Of course, I’ll be back,” he said and touched her cheek, but inside, his entire being was breaking down.
“Are you ready?” the soldier asked.
Mendel nodded. He squeezed Katja one final time then turned and followed the soldier out the door to defend Israel.
CHAPTER 31
The hotel room that Janice had booked had a large, round bed with a mirror overhead. When she and Elan arrived back from the show, she giggled as she undressed.
Elan was still reeling from seeing Katja and not sure he would be able to achieve an erection. He knew Janice, and he knew that she wanted to make love. Why did all of this happen tonight? Janice was expecting a wonderful second honeymoon, and he was feeling anything but amorous toward her. She was so sweet and loving. It wasn’t her fault. Women were lucky, he thought, they could fake their sexual feelings. Men, on the other hand, had to perform, and if they weren’t feeling sexually aroused, there was no way to hide their lack of desire. Their own anatomy betrayed them.
Janice came into Elan’s arms and kissed him.
“We’re going to have a baby…” she said in a sweet singsong voice.
“I know.” He smiled.
“You seem unhappy…”
“Not at all, I’m just a little nervous. I’m going to be a father.”
“Yes, we will be a real family.”
“How are you feeling?”
“I’m fine tonight, but I’ve had a little morning sickness. Nothing to worry about, it’s to be expected.” She took his hand and led him to the bed. “Lie down with
me, Elan…”
“Maybe we shouldn’t have sex. It might be bad for the baby.”
“It’s fine. I asked the doctor, and he said it won’t hurt the baby.” She smiled at him and took his hand.
He lay beside her, hoping he would be able to make love to her. Why was he still thinking about Katja? After all, that relationship had ended three years ago. It was a love affair that should never have happened in the first place. Damn those golden curls, those eyes that glittered like blue topaz, that smile that touched and tormented his soul.
Janice leaned over and kissed him, and he put his arms around her. Mechanically he went through all the motions. Surprising himself, he was able to make love. But once it was over and Janice lay beside him, he listened to her soft breathing in the darkness. In the quiet still of the night, he once again thought of Katja. Janice was lying on Elan’s arm, and his arm had gone numb. He was uncomfortable, wishing he could get up and have a drink. But of course, he knew that if he went down to the hotel bar, Janice would awaken and badger him with questions.
It was nearly four in the morning when Elan finally drifted off to sleep. Only fifteen minutes later, there was a harsh knock on the hotel room door. Elan woke with a start and sat up in bed. Because of his years of service in the IDF, he was able to awaken from a deep sleep to a state of alertness without any time-lapse.
“Who is it?” he called out in a firm voice.
“IDF. Open the door,” a man’s voice called from the other side.
Elan went to the door wearing nothing but his white briefs.
“Are you CPT Elan Amsel?” It was a tall, well-built man in an IDF uniform.
“Yes, I’m CPT Amsel. What is it? What do you want? How did you find me here?”
“We went to your house. Your mother sent us here. Israel is going to war. Sir, we need you.”
To Be An Israeli: The Fourth Book in the All My Love, Detrick series Page 10