Sarah and Solomon

by Roberta Kagan

  “I’m visiting friends here in France.” Gunther tried to smile but he couldn’t; the muscles in his face felt frozen.

  “I work just a few streets down from here at the Abwehr. I got myself a good position,” Otto said proudly.

  “Very nice. Good for you! Congratulations!” Gunther tried to sound enthusiastic, but as he spoke he saw the man with the red rose stop across the street. Gunther made eye contact with the man, who stood there for only a moment. He touched the rose on his lapel. Gunther nodded. Otto kept talking but Gunther didn’t hear him. He was watching the man who was looking around assessing the situation. Then the man turned and quickly walked away. Gunther felt anger bubbling up in his belly and rising with him. Otto Shultz had blown his entire mission, and there was nothing to be done. All this travel, all this risk . . . and for what?

  “If I recall correctly, you joined the army, didn’t you? I thought I heard that you were stationed in the east. Russia, wasn’t it? At least that was the last I heard.”

  “Yes, I was. But I got some time off.” Gunther tried not to sound as irritated as he felt.

  “Well, that’s certainly rare, isn’t it?”

  “Perhaps.”

  “And . . . who are these lovely children? They can’t be yours? The boy has to be at least fourteen, and as I recall you were unmarried when you left for the front.”

  "You do remember a great deal, don’t you?” Gunther said.

  “Yes, Gunther was single when I met him,” Ewa chimed in quickly. Her smile was bright as she looked Otto directly in the eyes. “When Gunther and I met, I was a devastated widow all alone with two young children. You see, my husband was a soldier in the Wehrmacht. He, like Gunther, was stationed on the Eastern Front. I am proud of his sacrifice, of course, but until Gunther came into our lives my children and I were lost. My son is big for his age, but he is only ten. And when I met Gunther he was at that age when a father figure meant everything to him.”

  “I see, and it looks like Gunther stepped right in and took over the role, didn’t you, my friend?”

  “Yes, I suppose you could put it that way.” Gunther forced a smile. He was glad that Ewa had come up with that story as quickly as she had.

  “Well then, good for you. I’m happy to see that it all worked out. So many widows from this war. It’s sad. But at least you two found each other, so there is a happy ending.” Otto gave them a quick smile. “It’s late, and I must be getting back to work, but it was certainly good seeing you again, and it was very nice to meet your lovely wife. By the way, what is your name, dear?”

  “Helga,” Ewa said, smiling.

  Gunther did not speak until Otto had turned the corner and was completely out of sight. Then in a voice barely above a whisper, he said, “Take the children and get out of France. Get on the first train back to Germany and then don’t hesitate. Head straight back to the forest in Poland and back to the group. I saw our contact while Otto was here. He was across the street. He saw me. I think he knew it was me but I can’t be sure. All I know is he continued walking because he saw me talking to Otto. I am going to try to find him, but don’t wait for me. Get out of France quickly. I don’t why, but I have a bad feeling.”

  “I can’t leave you here like this,” Ewa said.

  “You can and you must. The children . . .”

  “So abort the mission and come with us.”

  “No, I came this far. I am going to try and make the contact,” Gunther insisted.

  “I don’t want to leave you here . . .” Ewa grabbed Gunther’s sleeve.

  “I insist—now go. There is no time for discussion. I want to get away from this café as soon as possible. I just have a bad feeling. I don’t trust Otto. Please, go . . . now.” He handed her the falsified papers for herself and the children. Then he took his papers and tucked them back into his pocket.

  “I love you,” she whispered.

  Solomon looked at Ewa and then at Gunther.

  “I love you too. No matter what happens to me, I want you to know that these last few months with you have been the best time of my life. You’ve brought me so much joy.”

  Tears fell down her cheeks. She looked around to see if anyone noticed. Then she wiped them quickly.

  “Please, Ewa. Take the children and go, so I can leave the café and try to find the contact. Trust me, will you?”

  Ewa nodded at him. “I do trust you, with all my heart and soul.” Then she turned to the children. “Come on, you two. Follow me.”

  Sarah gave Ewa her hand, but Solomon stood staring at Gunther for a moment. There was a tear in his eye. It ran down his cheek. Then he said to Gunther, “God be with you.”

  Gunther nodded. “Go quickly, and may God be with the three of you.”

  Chapter 42

  As Otto Shultz turned the corner on his way back to work, he was stopped by a man in civilian clothes.

  “Excuse me,” the man said. “My name is Ludwig Beck. I must speak with you."

  Chapter 43

  Ewa led the children all the way to the train station, but when she arrived she could not purchase tickets. Something told her that she must go back and find Gunther or she would never see him again. He must not be left behind in France. He must leave this country with Ewa and the children. They must all return to Poland together. She looked at the children. A sad smile came over her face. Solomon does look fourteen. He looks so grown up, and he acts so grown up. But he is really only a boy, she thought. These children are so sweet, so young, so innocent. They should be in school or out playing tag with their friends. They should not be in fear for their lives. But right now, if things go sour, Sarah and Solomon are in just as much danger as Gunther and I. I think the best thing to do is to leave them at an orphanage. They will be safe there until I can convince Gunther to leave France with the three of us. I dare not take these children back to the café with me. It’s too dangerous. It’s best that I go alone.

  “I have to talk to you quickly, Solomon,” Ewa said. “As you can see, things have gone haywire with our plan. But even though Gunther insisted on it, I am not going to leave France without Gunther. However, I am not going to take you and Sarah with me to search for him. It is far too dangerous.”

  “Do you want us to wait here at the train station for you?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t think it’s a good idea. Just in case . . .”

  “In case of what?”

  “In case something happens to me. If it does, the two of you will be alone here in France and that would leave you very vulnerable. Now, listen to me. I can read and write French. My mother taught me as she lived in France for several years when she was young. So when we first arrived in Paris I was able to read a sign that said Orphanage. It was on a building that was connected to a Catholic church. Can you or Sarah speak any French?”

  “A little. Not much. My mother had a friend who was French before the war. She spoke to us in French.”

  “I am going to take you and Sarah to the orphanage, and I am going to beg the priest to take care of you. I am going to tell him that you are Polish Catholic children and that your father died of typhus. I will say that I cannot afford to care for you until I can get a job and come back for you.”

  “No! No! We should stay together,” Solomon insisted. “Gunther will catch up with us soon.”

  “I believe this is best. I must go and find Gunther.” Ewa said.

  “Then we will go with you.”

  “Please, Solomon. You could come with me. I know you are a child, and you act like a grown man, but I can’t take Sarah back to the café with me. If things go bad . . . well, she is still just a baby. I am begging you to stay with Sarah at the orphanage and take care of her. She needs you. And I need your help. Say you will do this for me.”

  Solomon looked into Ewa’s eyes. His old feelings of tenderness made his heart swell. “I’ll do it. But please, please be careful. Please, Ewa, come back for us.”

  She nodded. “I am not going
to give them your German papers. It’s too confusing. You both speak fluent Polish and you’re in France. It is just too contrived. I think we are better off using your real names. They are biblical names, but just to be careful, you still must not tell anyone at the orphanage that you are Jewish. Do you understand?”

  “Yes,” he said, “and I will make sure Sarah doesn’t tell them either.”

  “Good. Now let’s hurry. I must drop you two off soon because I want to try to find Gunther before dark.”

  They walked in silence toward the large cathedral.

  “I want to go with you,” Sarah said. “I don’t want you to leave me here. Every time I have to say goodbye to someone I never see them again.”

  “I know. I know,” Ewa said, gently running her hand over Sarah’s hair. “But I promise you I will be back for you and Solomon.” She’d said it, but she wasn’t sure she could keep her promise. She would try. God knows she would try. But . . .

  They stood in front of the large wooden doors to the cathedral. Ewa was intimidated; she had never been inside a church, and she had no idea what to expect. Will the priest suspect that we are Jews and turn us all in to the Gestapo? Her heart pounded as she questioned her decision. Should I just take the children with me to look for Gunther and hope for the best? Is it a bad choice to leave them here?

  Ewa knocked on the door, but no one came. She knocked again and waited. Still no one came. After several uncomfortable minutes she turned to leave. A disheveled-looking man, with a bottle wrapped in a brown paper bag, who had been sleeping on the church steps, turned to her and said, “Just go in. You don’t have to knock.”

  Ewa looked at him. There were red and purple bruises under his eyes, and he was sickly thin, and even though they were outside, a foul odor emanated from him. Her stomach turned over, and she felt like she might vomit from the sight of the man. But she nodded at him and said, “Thank you.” Then she turned to Solomon and Sarah. “Come, children.”

  Once inside the great cathedral, Ewa was awestruck by the beauty of the stained-glass windows, the mahogany floors, and matching pews. A heavyset man wearing a black robe came out of a booth that was situated on the side of the entrance.

  “Hello, Mother. Welcome,” he said, walking over to her with a limp. His blue, rheumy eyes were kind.

  She smiled and swallowed hard. It felt as if a stone had lodged itself in her dry throat. “I am here to see the priest.”

  “I am he.”

  “I need help for my children.” She choked the words out, then she felt as if she wanted to run. “I’m sorry, I think I made a mistake.”

  “No, it’s all right. Please go on. I have devoted my life to doing God’s work. You have come here because God has sent you. Let me help you.”

  I lost my job. I can’t take care of my children. I need somewhere to leave them until I get established.”

  “I see,” he said, nodding. “And what are your names?” he asked the children.

  Sarah looked at him blankly. She was confused. Ewa knew she was unsure of whether to tell him her real name or to say she was Heidi.

  “This is Sarah, and that’s Solomon. They don’t speak French. They speak Polish.” She was afraid she’d just raised a red flag, but the priest didn’t seem at all ruffled by the admission. He just nodded.

  The old priest didn’t ask any questions about the origins of the names. He didn’t even ask Ewa’s name. Then he smiled warmly, and in perfect Polish he said, “Welcome, Sarah. Welcome, Solomon. Welcome to this humble house of God. I am Father Dupaul. And on behalf of my staff and myself, may I say that we are honored to have the two of you as guests in our home.”

  “I will be back for them soon,” she said.

  “I know you will. And please be assured that your children will be safe here under God’s roof.”

  Ewa kissed Sarah and Solomon and held them both in her arms for several moments. Tears ran like rivulets down Sarah’s face. Solomon was fighting to hold back his tears. “Be good. I promise you . . . I’ll be back as soon as I can,” Ewa said. Then before she changed her mind, Ewa stood up. “Thank you. Thank you from the bottom of my heart,” she said and left quickly.

  Chapter 44

  Ewa felt lost without the children as she quickly walked back to café on the Left Bank where she’d last seen Gunther. She found the priest to be kind and reassuring, but she still felt pangs of uncertainty about her decision to leave them. If all goes well and I find Gunther, I can go back and collect them tonight.

  Even though it was well past lunchtime and too early for supper, the café was crowded. People might not be eating full meals, but they were sipping ersatz coffee and socializing. Ewa’s eyes searched the café and the street for Gunther, but she didn’t see him anywhere. She walked up and down the street all the way to each corner. She didn’t know where he might have gone, and she felt anxious not knowing where to begin to look. She walked for a mile to the left of the café, then she returned and did the same to the right. She glanced into alleyways and then store windows. Ewa bit her nail as her mind began to race. What was I thinking? Did I think I would just come back here, and he would be waiting where I’d left him? I have to think. I have to think . . . where would he go in search of his contact? She racked her brain but she had no answers. Finally, she sunk down onto a bench across the street from the café. If I can’t find him, I’ll have to do as he asked. I’ll go back to the orphanage and get the children. Then I suppose we’ll head back to Poland. That’s all I can do.

  Tears welled up in the backs of her eyes. She looked at her watch. It was getting late; she had been back at the Left Bank for over four hours. And it was now half past six. How much longer do I have before dark? How long can I wait here? Where should I go? Where can I search next? When do I give up? I don’t know what to do next. She began to walk again, more frantic this time. It was difficult to breathe. She felt overwhelmed and alone. Her arms and legs were shaking, and her stomach ached with fear. Staring out at the people walking by her but not really seeing them, she sunk down onto a bench shivering. Ewa was so distracted by her own thoughts that she didn’t notice the three Gestapo officers approaching her.

  “Papers,” one of them said.

  Ewa looked up. It felt as if this were not real, as if it were a dream. No, not a dream, a nightmare. Her hands trembled as she gave them the papers in her purse.

  “Helga Fleischer?” one of them said. He smiled, but his lips only curved on one side.

  “Y-yes,” she said.

  “I see, and your husband is Hans? Hans Fleischer?”

  “Yes, Hans Fleischer.” Her heart felt like it was going to explode. Bile rose in her throat. Don’t vomit. Dear God, please don’t let me vomit.

  “Now that’s very strange, isn’t it? My friends and I just met with a colleague. His name is Otto Shultz. And do you know what happened? Otto Shultz just had your husband arrested. His real name is Gunther Kuhn, but he was carrying papers that said his name was Hans Fleischer. So, of course, we knew something was not right, didn’t we, Alexander?"

  The other Nazi nodded, then the first one continued, “And do you know what? Otto said Gunther had been seen here with a wife. So my friend and I came looking for you.”

  They were toying with her. She knew it. It was terrifying. They knew the truth. They knew the papers were false. Dare she ask them where Gunther was? Dare she ask? Clearing her throat, she said, “My husband? Where is he?”

  “Oh, dear lady, our condolences. Your husband is dead. He was, after all, a deserter. Then he was carrying false papers. We knew he was up to no good . . .”

  The Nazi was still talking, but Ewa couldn’t hear him. All she could do was remember Gunther’s gentle smile, his kind heart, and the way he made her feel safe even in the most perilous situations. And now sitting on this bench, unsure of what to say, Ewa felt as if she were sliding down a dark hole into the center of the Earth. Could it possibly be true? Could Gunther really be dead? It had only been a few h
ours since she’d last looked into his eyes, since she’d last touched his hand, last heard his reassuring voice. “Oh God . . .” The words spilled out of her without her even realizing she’d spoken.

  “God isn’t going to help you. You are a Jew, aren’t you?” he said, his teeth bared like a rabid dog, yet he was smiling. He didn’t wait for her answer. “You are going to finally get what’s coming to you. It’s just a shame that you had to bring a good German man down to your level before we found you. I wonder if you are the reason he deserted.” He slapped Ewa hard across the face. Blood spurted from her lips and nose.

  She knew he meant to hurt her, and yet her physical body felt numb. If I am to die, then please, God, let it happen quickly.

  “What do you have to say for yourself?” The Nazi’s eyes narrowed as he growled at her.

  She shook her head. Tears spilled down her face. Oh God, oh God. What are they going to do to me? They will probably kill me. And what about the children? What will become of them when I don’t return? The priest seemed to be a good, kind man. All I can do is put my trust in God that the priest will take care of them.

  The Nazi slapped her again. He tore open her blouse. Strangely enough she did not feel the slap. Then he said to his fellow officers, “Shall I shoot her?”

  “I think it's best that we take her to headquarters. She may have information that could prove valuable to us.”

  “Maybe we could have a little fun with her first?” the third Nazi said.

  Fun with me? They mean to rape me, Ewa thought. I should be begging them for mercy. But instead she felt numb and detached. Her stomach churned, and she felt that she might vomit or lose control of her bowels. But for some odd reason she could not speak. Somehow, she seemed to be watching this horrific scene as if it were happening to someone else not her.