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All That Shines and Whispers

Page 14

by Jennifer Craven


  Ottie looked to her husband and then back to Lara, concern spreading across their faces.

  “We’ve never heard of a man named Rubin,” she said.

  Stumbling backward, Lara hit the wall. Her vision narrowed, the outer edges turning white and tapering into the center before she had a chance to grab onto anything for support. She was blind. But she certainly wasn’t deaf, as a primal wail pierced her ears.

  Guttural and terrifying, it took a moment before Lara realized the sound was coming from her.

  Nineteen

  Somehow she got to the dining table in the center of the neighbor’s apartment. Had they dragged her in? Did the man carry her? She had no idea. All she knew was that her body felt paralyzed and her brain like it was sifting through a heavy fog that rolls in from the sea in springtime.

  “We need to call the police,” the woman said, placing a glass of water on the table in front of Lara. The girl’s elbows propped on the edge of the faux cedar, and her head hung heavy in her hands. She focused her eyes on a chip in the laminate where the seam met.

  “No,” Lara muttered. “Please. You can’t. I’m not supposed to be here.” She didn’t raise her head.

  “What do you mean?”

  Finally, she met their eyes. “I ran away from home. My family doesn’t know where I am.” A quiet cry escaped from her lips. Saying the words out loud intensified the guilt she’d been feeling for days.

  The husband and wife looked at each other. Ottie’s face filled with horror, the man’s remained unreadable. Ottie stepped toward Lara and placed a hand on her back.

  “There, there, dear. We’ll get it figured out. What’s your name anyways?”

  “Lara,” she croaked.

  “Well, I’m Ottie and this is my husband, Elias.” She pointed in his direction. “Okay, Lara. Listen, we need to call the authorities if they’re going to help find your baby.” Her voice was calm and level, as though she was conditioned for crisis control. She spoke to Lara like she would an inconsolable toddler.

  “No, I’ll get in trouble. My father will get in trouble. I shouldn’t be here!” Lara’s sobs intensified. Ottie looked to her husband again, who stood with his back against the refrigerator, taking in the scene. He’d fixed his hair—the flyaway now swept neatly across his bald spot.

  Ottie held her hands up, shrugged her shoulders, and mouthed: What should we do? He shrugged back.

  “What do you mean your father will be in trouble?” Ottie asked, trying to pry more information Lara, whose tears were forming a stream down the length of her table.

  “We had to escape. We don’t live here anymore.”

  “Escape? Who did? And why?” The woman lowered her face near Lara’s. Her questions spewed in rapid succession as if she could sense she was getting closer to critical information that would solve the mystery of why a young woman barged into their apartment in the middle of the night.

  “My family. The Nazis were trying to recruit my father. So we fled. Climbed over the Alps and sought refuge in Switzerland.”

  Ottie’s eyes exploded open and her mouth hinged open. Elias, who hadn’t moved from his spot nor said a word during the entire interrogation, straightened. Lanky and quite tall, the vertical stripes of his pajamas only exaggerated his height. He took a step forward, suddenly interested in Lara’s last comment.

  “Are you…Lara Weiss?” he said, his voice no more than a whisper.

  Lara lifted her head, revealing swollen, red eyes.

  “Yes.”

  “Oh my gosh,” Ottie gasped. “You’re Doctor Weiss’ daughter?”

  “Yes,” she said again.

  Elias hurried across the room and pulled open the top drawer of a roll-top desk in the corner. He rifled through its contents before pulling out a small, bound notebook.

  “What are you doing, Elias?” Ottie asked, standing.

  The man didn’t respond. Instead, he hastily flipped through the pages of what Lara could see appeared to be an address book. Coming to the page he was searching for, he trailed his finger down the list of names and finally stopped on one near the bottom, stabbing it with his pointer.

  “Elias?”

  Ottie huffed. Unable to wait for his response, she turned her attention back to Lara.

  “We know of your family’s story,” she said, her voice low. “News of your escape was posted all over Austria. I prayed for you, hoped you had made it to safety. Now I see that you did.”

  Lara stared into the woman’s eyes. Ottie’s words got lost somewhere between Lara’s ears and brain. She couldn’t register what was being said. People knew about her family?

  Elias, who had rejoined them at the table with the notebook in his hand, looked up from the page as though a lightbulb had sprung to life in his head. He opened his mouth to talk, but Ottie interrupted.

  “Lara, why are you here?” she asked. “Why did you come back to Austria?”

  “I came back with my son. To be with him.” She pointed toward the door.

  “The man you said was your boyfriend? The one who lives down the hall?”

  “Yes.”

  “I didn’t know Doctor Weiss had a grandson,” Ottie said, confused.

  “No one knows.” Lara looked down and twisted the fabric of her nightgown.

  “What do you mean?”

  “No one knows Erich is my son.”

  “But...I don’t understand.”

  Lara took a deep breath. “It would have been scandalous,” she explained. “So my parents pretended he was theirs, and I went along with it until I couldn’t take it anymore. I came back because Rubin said we could be a family. He said he loved me.” The crippling ripple of consequence overwhelmed her, as Lara realized how foolish she’d been. Her shaky voice turned to poignant weeping. Ottie scooted her chair closer to Lara and wrapped her arm around the girl’s heaving shoulders.

  “Okay, okay, let me think,” Ottie said. Elias raised a finger as to speak, but was cut off by Lara who sat upright, flinging the woman’s arm from around her.

  “I need to get home,” Lara said with sudden urgency, as though everything was suddenly perfectly lucid.

  Startled, Ottie’s hands flew up like a scarecrow. “Home? You mean back to Switzerland?”

  “Yes. Right now.” Lara stood, the chair screeching across the hardwood floor. Her eyes were frantic but unflinchingly sure. “My father will know what to do.”

  “But, but…what about your son?”

  “He’s safe. I don’t think Rubin would hurt him.”

  Ottie stared in utter shock and confusion at the resolution on Lara’s face.

  “But he kidnapped him!”

  “Rubin tricked me,” Lara said, suddenly seeing her situation clearly. Her voice cracked as she spoke. “He didn’t want me. Never did. But when he heard we had a child, he convinced me to come back. And I was naïve enough to believe him. All along, he just wanted Erich.” The lump in her throat threatened to rise again, but she swallowed it back down. “I must go. I’ve got to get to my father.”

  Lara paced the short distance between the table and the door, her hand on her head, her breathing short and fast. She muttered to herself. “But how? Train? No. Can’t walk. So far…”

  The pajama-clad couple watched her, dumbfounded. Lara choked on the words, as the impossibility became real. She knew she couldn’t simply walk back across the border. And even in a car, she would be stopped and questioned.

  “How did you get here in the first place?” Ottie interrupted Lara’s train of thought.

  “Rubin met me near the border. He drove us back.”

  “But weren’t you interrogated upon entry?”

  “No. Rubin got us through without question. He had an armband.”

  “A Nazi armband?”

  “Yes,” Lara said, lowering her gaze, embarrassed. “It had a black swastika. He said it was from before. He said he wasn’t part of them anymore. I can’t believe I fell for it. There were so many signs…” her voice
drifted off and Ottie could see the distress on the girl’s face. The kind woman felt bad for her, understanding how easy it was to be blinded by love. She’d been young once, too.

  “Nevermind that,” Ottie said, standing to face Lara. She put her hands on Lara’s shoulders and gave them a little shake. “That’s in the past. Nothing we can do to change it. We need to figure out what to do now.”

  “We’ll help you,” Elias’ deep voice announced, finally tired of waiting for his turn to speak. Ottie turned so both women faced where he sat at the table.

  “You will? But how?” Lara said.

  “Well if you two would have let me get a word in, I would have told you.” He rolled his eyes at his wife, and she in turn, pursed her lips, dismissively. “I know a man,” Elias continued. “He travels between here and Geneva every week for work. Drives a truck carrying cargo.”

  Lara’s eyes scrunched in confusion. “I don’t—"

  “You can hide in his truck,” Elias said. “He’s a good man. I know he’ll do it.”

  “Yes, of course!” Ottie exclaimed. “That’s the perfect idea. When is his next trip?”

  “I’ll have to call him. That’s why I got the phone book. I’ll ask, and we’ll set it up.”

  Lara’s body refused to relax. They seemed so sure, made it seem easy. But would it really work? Could she really get all the way home without being discovered? It was a risk, but what was the alternative? Her options were pretty bleak.

  And even more than that, could she leave knowing her son was somewhere here without her?

  I have to trust them, she thought. Her jaw softened, and she realized she’d been clenching it tight.

  Lara looked to her rescuers. “Okay.”

  Elias picked up the phone that hung on the wall, and placed his forefinger in the dial, turning it sharply.

  “Come, Lara,” Ottie said. “Let’s go sit. It’s more comfortable.” She led Lara to a gray couch next to the end table where Elias had found the address book. Patting the cushion with her wrinkled hand, she urged Lara to sit.

  “Why are you helping me?” Lara asked, her voice—she could hear it—sounding like a child’s.

  Ottie took Lara’s hand in hers and looked her straight in the eyes.

  “Your father is admirable,” she said. “And highly respected by many Austrians—ourselves included. Don’t forget there are still some of us who didn’t side with the Germans after the Anschluss.” She gave Lara a warm smile.

  Elias clicked the phone back onto the cradle. He turned to the women on the couch. Their gazes met, Lara’s expression filled with hope. His words were brief but were exactly what she wanted to hear.

  “Tomorrow night.”

  Twenty

  Lara was a woman divided. Half of her—both physically and mentally—felt one way, while the other countered. Emotionally, she seesawed between despair and determination, and her body, drained and energized, clashed against itself.

  But the clearest fissure, the split most painful, was that of her heart—half of it beating firmly in her chest, but the other half—her son—somewhere unknown.

  She prayed he was safe. She prayed he wasn’t scared.

  Ottie offered Lara food, but Lara couldn’t eat. Mostly, she sat in a daze, praying the hours to hurry up. A handful of ladies’ magazines were stacked neatly on the coffee table. Lara studied the cover of the top issue—the image of a woman wearing a neatly tailored vest and skirt. It reminded Lara of Marlene. She yearned for her mother’s comfort.

  The waiting was unbearable. And at any minute she thought she’d abandon the plan altogether, fleeing Ottie’s apartment on foot to search for her son. Isn’t that what any good mother would do?

  But she stayed and waited. Until it was finally time.

  ***

  Elias pulled into the remote parking lot behind a large brick building just as the sun dipped behind the horizon, casting the city in a cool dark blue. A single streetlight hung overhead, giving just enough glow for Lara to take in her surroundings. The gravel lot was wide, with wire fencing marking its property. It felt industrial, cold.

  From the back seat, she peered out the window at the rows of freight trucks, either coming or going from their deliveries. Lara didn’t know exactly what the trucks carried, or what products the building manufactured. All Elias said was that the man transported “goods”—the type of goods, she had no idea. Could it be dangerous? It didn’t matter. Her only focus was getting home and getting help.

  “Hans said he’d be leaving at nine,” Elias said to Lara. “We’ll wait here until we see his truck pull out.”

  Lara nodded. Her mind struggled to stay focused, having been awake for over twenty-four hours. The anticipation fueled her adrenaline, but the interim downtime made her eyelids fight to stay open. She looked at the bag on the seat next to her thigh. After formulating their plan—last night? This morning? She’d lost sense of time—Ottie had convinced Lara to lie on her couch to get some sleep.

  It was useless.

  Instead, Lara went back to Rubin’s fictitious apartment and gathered her few belongings back into her sack. In a strange way, it comforted her, knowing Rubin had cared enough to take Erich’s necessities. That her son had a few pieces of clothing and his beloved stuffed toy with him, wherever he was, eased a fraction of her worry.

  Now in the car, she stared out the window, as she and Elias sat in silence, waiting. Finally, a set of glaring, yellow headlights came alive across the lot. They flashed twice—on, off, and on again. A signal. Lara and Elias watched the box truck pull forward, but instead of turning out of the parking lot to the road, it continued straight toward them.

  “This is him,” Elias said. “Get your things.”

  She slid her arm through the straps of her bag and drew them up to the flat of her shoulder. With her fingers clasped on the door handle, she watched the truck approach. It pulled alongside their car and stopped, dwarfing them in its shadow.

  “Ok, this is it. Let’s go.” Elias opened his door and Lara followed suit. They met at the front of the car. Elias pointed to the back of the truck without saying a word. They hurried toward the double doors, quickening their pace as the red blaze of the truck’s brake lights illuminated their silhouettes for anyone who might be watching.

  Elias slid open the bolt lock and pulled the handle. The right-hand door flung open.

  “In you go,” he whispered. Lara stared into the darkened cargo bed. Don’t be scared, she told herself. Tentatively, she placed a foot on the metal step and hoisted herself into the back of the truck. The air inside was warm and musty.

  Lara turned to face Elias, emotion rising from her core.

  “Be safe,” he said.

  “Thank you, Elias. Thank you so much.”

  He shut the door without another word and gave it a double tap, signaling to the driver that the package had been deposited. A second later, the truck lurched forward. Lara stood wide-legged and reached for the side wall to steady her balance. Her eyes struggled to adjust to the pitch-black darkness.

  As the truck rumbled forward, gaining speed, Lara felt around to get a sense of her surroundings, curious with what she’d be riding for the next several hours. Reaching out, her fingers traced the outline of what felt like a burlap sack. To her right, another large bag had the same rough texture. The air smelled dry, like the baking aisle at the grocers. She detected a faint hint of wheat. Her eyes adjusting, she pulled open the top of one of the sacks, feeling the small uneven seeds. Grain, she thought, thankful that at least she wasn’t traveling with anything jeopardous or vile.

  Lara slid her back down the side of the truck until her bottom hit the floor. Her knees pulled into her chest, and she tilted her head up to stare at the metal ceiling. Safe. She said a silent prayer of gratitude for the kindness of Ottie and Elias, strangers who had opened their door—literally—and given her a chance at redemption.

  Lara’s body bounced and jolted with every divot the truck hit. Just as
they’d reach a smooth stretch of road, a sharp turn or hole in pavement sent her toppling. Sleep was impossible. The journey would be several hours. But despite being exhausted on all levels, she could not allow herself to succumb to dreams, even the good, hopeful kind. She didn’t deserve such relief. She must stay alert.

  A tear flowed down Lara’s cheek, coming to rest in the corner of her mouth, and she could taste her own salt. It tasted like sin.

  Erich.

  Where was he? Was he crying for her?

  The only comfort she allowed herself was the belief that Rubin genuinely cared for the boy. She’d watched their interactions. Everything else may have been a sham, but the love for his son was real. Rubin wanted Erich, not her. His motive for luring them back to Austria was clear. The thought crushed her into a heap of bitter resentment.

  Still, Lara found some relief knowing Erich was in the care of someone who loved him. He’s okay, she convinced herself. He wasn’t with her, but he was okay. The thought was the only thing keeping her from hurling the door open and jumping into oncoming traffic.

  Deep in her thoughts, Lara didn’t notice the truck had stopped moving until she heard muffled voices just feet away.

  “Identification?” a gruff voice said. Then, after a pause, “What’s your purpose for crossing?”

  “Transporting dry goods,” Hans, Lara’s trusted driver, said. It was the first time she heard his voice. She still hadn’t seen his face.

  “Orders are to check all vehicles with enclosed spaces.”

  We must have made it to the border, Lara thought. She pictured the same SS officers she’d encountered with Rubin. Were the same armed patrolmen stopping them now?

  “Just a bunch of bags of seeds and grain,” Hans said. His voice remained level, and Lara was thankful for his composure.

  “Orders are orders. I’ll need to check the back.”

  Lara’s pulse quickened and, she sprang up, feeling her way further back into the truck, winding and climbing over the bags. She clamored over a stack, pushing one to the side, and dove behind just as the door of the truck swung open. The glow of a flashlight filled the inside of the truck.

 

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