You Are My Sunshine: A Novel Of The Holocaust (All My Love Detrick Book 2)

by Roberta Kagan

  “Well, it looks like she is going to have a dry birth.”

  When Fruma was able to she pulled Maria out of the bedroom and into the kitchen where Zofia could not hear.

  “When her water broke, it was green. I think that maybe that is a sign of some sort of evil spirit. “

  “No, but it is a sign that we have to do what we can to get this baby out as soon as possible. The baby has had a bowel movement. If we are not careful, when it comes, it could inhale the nasty material and die instantly.”

  “Oy vey, what should I do?”

  “You and Gitel get me a bowl of hot water and some towels, then leave the rest to me.”

  The pains grew stronger and more frequent as the hours passed. Zofia lay in her tiny cot, sweat pouring out of her body, as her two surrogate mothers waited, filled with angst, outside the closed door. Hours passed. The sun set and rose again twice. Zofia grew tired from the intensity of the pain.

  “I don’t think I can do this. I am afraid I am dying.”

  “You will not die. This is your first child. It is always a hard labor with the first baby,” Maria said, but she was worried. The baby was not crowning. In fact, it was coming feet first, if it came at all. She knew she would have to reach inside of Zofia and turn the baby so that it could come forward into the world.

  As Maria reached up through Zofia’s vaginal cavity to turn the baby, Zofia’s screams filled the room. The old midwife was covered in sweat, her hair stuck to her forehead, as the skilled hands moved inside Zofia’s body. One mistake and the mother would be lost. She would bleed to death. It was a tedious and painful process.

  Finally, she was ready.

  “Push, now,” Maria said, out of breath from the stress and exertion.

  Zofia had never been so tired. It took all the strength in her body to push.

  “Again.”

  The cords stood out in Zofia’s neck as the beads of sweat ran from her face, into her hair, and down onto her flushed neck and chest.

  “Again. Push. You must push.”

  “I can’t!” Zofia cried.

  “Again, now… Push!” Maria demanded. “Push, I said, push…”

  Zofia did not respond. Maria slapped her face to bring her back to reality. Zofia must use all of the force left within her to bring this child into the world. “Push…” Maria growled. “Push, I said, push…” If she stopped now, Zofia would die.

  Zofia cried out, tears falling on her face. “I’m so tired. Please...”

  “PUSH...”

  Zofia pushed with all the strength left in her body.

  Once the walls of Zofia’s body’ tore open, the tiny slippery infant left the safety of its mother’s womb and poured into the world in a river of blood, water, and feces.

  Immediately Maria grabbed the child. Her thick knowing hands cleaned the infant’s air pipes, and then she held the baby high in the air, by its feet, and slapped the child hard on its buttocks. A hearty cry echoed through the rooms.

  Maria took a deep breath and sighed. She lay the baby beside her mother. With her forearm, she pushed the hair off her sweat-laden brow. Her work was done. “You have a daughter, Zofia.”

  Zofia smiled, cradling the baby gently in her arms.

  Maria took the little girl and gently laid her in the dresser drawer that had been made into a makeshift cradle.

  “One more push… You have to get the afterbirth out. Then I will give you the baby.”

  Zofia looked at her daughter, who whimpered, waiting, and felt a burst of energy. She pushed hard. Her body gave way to more blood and water, then the rush of a large slimy mass came forth and she knew it was over.

  Not yet washed, the child lay contented in her mother’s arms as the midwife cleaned the mess. Then she took the baby and tenderly washed her clean.

  “She’s a beauty,” Maria said, handing the baby back to Zofia. “What are you going to call her?”

  “Eidel. It means gentle.”

  “That’s a lovely name. Let me go and get Fruma and Gitel. They will want to see the baby.

  Fruma and Gitel came storming in like two protective wildcats.

  “Are you all right?” Gitel asked.

  “Yes,” Zofia said, then she moved the blanket away so they could see the baby. “This is Eidel.”

  The two women looked on in amazement at the tiny hands, feet, ears…

  “Oy, she is really shane (beautiful).”

  “So shane.”

  They cooed and giggled like young girls, gently fondling the soft skin of the baby’s cheek.

  Zofia was happy, content even. But she could not help thinking of her parents. A pang of sadness shot through her. She wondered how they had felt the day she was born. It must have been something like this. They must have felt this extreme love and need to protect her, the way she now felt towards the bundle that slept softly in her arms. She was sure they had been in awe at the wonder of a new and precious life. Zofia missed them. She realized that she’d done wrong, she had brought shame to her family name, but she wished they were here. She wished they could see their grandchild. Surely if they saw this little wonder, God’s perfect creation, then all would be forgiven. A tear escaped the side of her left eye, but no one noticed. It trickled away quietly and mingled with the sweat that was beginning to dry on her face.

  Zofia was tired. Fruma took the baby and Zofia slept.

  Over the next week, Zofia regained her strength. But she was still in bed. The tearing of her delicate parts was taking time to heal. Fruma and Gitel did not mind. They enjoyed being useful.

  Having an infant in the house changed the lives of all three of the women immensely. They fussed over the baby and took turns getting up to bring her to Zofia’s side, then watched as the small little lips grasped Zofia’s nipple and sucked vigorously.

  “She is a healthy baby,” Fruma said. “Thanks be to God.”

  “Yes, thanks be to God,” Gitel said, taking Fruma’s hand and smiling at her.

  As the baby grew, so did the responsibilities, which Fruma and Gitel took on with relish. They had been so long alone that they enjoyed the role of grandparents. At first Fruma insisted that Zofia stay at home and take care of the child, but as the child became sturdier, they set up a playpen in the dressmaking shop. All day, Zofia and Fruma worked while Eidel slept in her playpen. Many times, they had to put work aside to comfort a fussy baby, but it was all right. After all, it was Eidel.

  When Helen returned from her honeymoon, she and her mother, Maria, went to visit the dressmakers.

  “Oh, look at her, she is beautiful,” Helen said about Eidel, as she smiled at Zofia. “She has such light hair. I think she will be a blonde.”

  Helen had never asked who the baby’s father was, but Zofia could see by the way that she looked at the child that she wondered. After all, how had a woman with hair the color of a raven’s wing produced a child with a full head of hair as light as a field of wheat? Well, it was apparent to Zofia that Eidel, with her striking sapphire eyes, looked a lot like her father.

  “I really like her name. It’s lovely.”

  “Oh, thank you. It means gentle. But so far, she’s more feisty than gentle. As a matter of fact, when she nurses, I feel like a whale is pulling at my nipple.”

  Helen laughed. “I can’t wait to have a child. I’ve always wanted children. Fritz says we should start immediately.”

  They both laughed.

  “How was your honeymoon?”

  “It was very nice. We didn’t have a great deal of money, so we were limited as to what we could do. But we enjoyed it,” Helen said. Then she gently ran her finger along Eidel’s cheek, trying to make the baby smile.

  “Can I hold her?” Helen asked.

  “Yes, be careful. Remember to hold her head.”

  “Of course,” Helen said, and she reached down to lift the baby. At first, little Eidel’s lower lip went out and she looked as if she might cry. “Shhhh,” Helen whispered Helen stroked the baby’s soft
cheek. She walked the room, gently rocking the child and holding her against her chest. After a while, instead of crying, Eidel suckled and curled into Helen, then fell asleep.

  “She is a wonder.”

  “I know. Sometimes I cannot believe I have a child. It’s almost inconceivable. I have to pinch myself,” Zofia laughed.

  “This little girl is special I can tell.”

  “Can you?”

  “Of course,” Helen smiled as she gingerly touched the small head that rested on her shoulder

  “I wonder what she will grow up to be like.”

  “Oh, I think she will be very smart.”

  “And pretty?”

  “Not pretty, beautiful,” Helen said. Then she whispered, “Won’t you, Eidel?”

  Chapter 16

  “At least Hitler is going to leave us alone. He promised to say away from Poland. Thanks be to God,” Gitel said, “He is most surely a madman.”

  “Yes, it’s true, he has promised to leave Poland alone, and that is good,” Fruma said as she washed the cereal off Eidel’s chin. “But do you trust him? Really trust him?”

  “Of course not, who could trust him? But if he stays away from here, that is all we should be concerned with.”

  Zofia came in to the kitchen. “Who is this Hitler, anyway?”

  “The leader of Germany; a real conqueror, I think,” Gitel said. “But don’t you worry about him. He is far away from us, and we have too much to do with our tiny package to worry about such a disturbing man.”

  “I have a cousin in Germany,” Fruma said. “I am concerned for her. Although we have not spoken in years, I think I will send her a letter.”

  “You want to ask her to come here?” Gitel said. “We don’t have so much room, but if need be, we can manage.”

  “Yes and no. I don’t even know her really. We met once when I was just a little girl. If I saw her on the street, I wouldn’t recognize her. But I hear it is bad for Jews in Germany. I don’t know what to do. Do you think all of this will pass?”

  “You mean this anti-Semitism? Of course it will pass. It always does. I wouldn’t worry too much. Besides this Hitler is so busy conquering the world that he probably has very little time to concern himself with the Jews.”

  Chapter 17

  “Manfred, Dr. Goebbels would like to see you in his office,” Dr. Goebbels’ secretary announced when he walked into work on that day in early November.

  “Thank you,” Manfred said, and rushed to put his things on his desk. Then he went immediately to the doctor’s large corner office in the back of the room.

  “Dr. Goebbels, sir. You asked for me?”

  “Yes I did. Sit down, please. I want to discuss something with you. I need someone I can trust to talk to about a pressing matter, in order to gather my thoughts. You see, something interesting has happened. Something I believe we can use to our advantage. What I have heard is that a Jew in Paris, his name is Herschel Grynszpan, went to the German embassy, and shot a German official. The official was really nobody of importance. His name is Ernst Von Roth. But… If this Von Roth should die, then we have a good case to start a pogrom against the Jews here in Germany. It will bring the people together, strengthening their love for Hitler and all he has done to rebuild the Fatherland. And because of how we will present this situation, as a terrible crime that was committed against us, the rest of the world will understand. We will show them how the Jews are sabotaging our country, make them see our side. This is an opportunity for us. The more we can unite the German people against a common enemy, the stronger our nation will become.

  “Yes, sir, as always you are right. This is a bad situation turned into opportunity by your brilliant mind. I am just curious. Does anyone know why this Jew did such a thing?”

  “From what I understand, his family was forced out of their home in Germany, all of their possessions confiscated. Apparently, they were forced over the border into Poland. Their son, this Herschel, had some nerve. He was living in Paris when he got the news. And this Jew had the balls to go into the German embassy and shoot a German official. This sort of behavior must be nipped in the bud. It cannot be tolerated. If we should overlook something like this, then the Jews will surely begin to act out more and more until they are out of control. This must be dealt with in such a manner that the Jews begin to know their place. We must show them who is boss right now, right away, with such a strong demonstration that they will never even consider acting up again. They must be terrified of us. That way we can keep them where we want them. So you see, if this should work out the way that I am planning, we will have achieved three things. We will show the world that the Jews are the enemy. We will show the Jews who is boss, and at the same time, we will unite and strengthen our Aryan brotherhood.”

  “You are a true genius, Dr. Goebbels. No one else could take such an unfortunate incident and turn it into a victory for the Fatherland.”

  Goebbels smiled and Manfred knew he’d said the right things. He could see in the doctor’s eyes just how much his boss enjoyed having him around. They made a good team.

  For several days, Manfred and Goebbels waited. Then on November 7th, Von Roth died.

  It was a day like any other day in November of 1938, except that when it was finally over, it would go down in history as the date when Hitler openly waged war on the Jews of Germany. And so, on the ninth of November in the year of 1938, everything began its rapid descent in a downward spiral. For two blood-splattered nights under Goebbels’ direction, with Hitler’s approval, the Jewish communities throughout Germany were ravaged by gangs of hoodlums intent on revenge for the death of an unknown German diplomat at the hands of a young Jewish man. The cries of victims and perpetrators echoed through the streets as synagogues were set to fire, windows and storefronts demolished, people beaten, dragged from their homes, and murdered. That night, genocide had begun that would last until the end of the war. November 9, 1938 would go down in history to be known forever as “Kristallnacht” the night of the broken glass.

  On November 9, unsuspecting Jews all over Germany went about their lives as they always had. The growing anti-Semitism had not as of yet turned violent. Some Jews had been forced from their homes. But those still living the way they did before Hitler rationalized this by telling themselves that those who’d been evicted must have committed a crime. Boycotts had taken place on Jewish businesses, but then again, the Jews had lived through this sort of thing before. And although the Nuremberg laws had been passed, declaring that it was illegal for Jews and Gentiles to marry, well, again, they rationalized this as just a part of Hitler’s campaign. It would pass, they told each other and themselves. And, of course, there were whispers when neighbors saw each other at the butcher shop or the bakery, talk of concentration camps and work camps being built, but most people believed that only those guilty of crimes would ever see the inside of these prisons. In short, the Jews believed that if they remained quiet, and endured the insults for now, all of this would soon pass.

  They could not have been more wrong.

  That night, the night of November 9, truckloads of German youths were brought into the Jewish part of town. They carried clubs and were told to destroy the businesses and beat anyone they saw out on the streets.

  “You may do as you wish, but do not steal anything. Only destroy it,” the leaders told the young men. For it was to be a demonstration, not a robbery. The Germans must be exacting revenge for acts committed against their Fatherland. If they took any valuables, the entire act would lose its ideals.

  Besides, there was plenty of time to confiscate Jewish property.

  The sound of crashing glass echoed for miles, combined with the wild hollering of the youths as they ran through the towns, bent on destruction. The smell of burning permeated the air as the hundred-year-old synagogues burst into roaring flames. Blood covered the sidewalks as men and women were torn from their homes and crushed under the clubs and boots of the raging attackers. By morning all, t
he Jewish sector of town was nearly destroyed.

  Chapter 18

  On November 12, Goebbels returned from an important meeting. The doctor had always been fastidious, his clothing pressed and well fit. But today, it was not. His suit hung on him as if he’d lost twenty pounds, and his hair appeared unkempt. Large purple swellings gave his sunken eyes the appearance of a troubled man. He sat down at his desk and gazed out the window. He needed to talk. Desperate for someone with whom to discuss what he’d heard and seen, Dr. Goebbels sent for Manfred. Manfred had proven to him time and again that he was a good friend and a competent understudy. Joseph Goebbels enjoyed the admiration he saw in Manfred’s eyes. And he believed that he could trust and confide in this young apprentice who reminded him so much of himself. After the others had left for the day, Goebbels called Manfred into his office.

  “Would you like a beer?” Dr. Goebbels asked as he opened a bottle for himself.

  “I would, yes.”

  “Nothing on this earth is like a good German beer.”

  “I couldn’t agree more.”

  “How is your lovely wife?”

  “She is doing very well, thank you.”

  “Soon we can expect a child?” Goebbels asked

  “We are trying…”

  “That’s the good part, huh?” Goebbels laughed, and Manfred laughed too.

  “As you know, I was attending a meeting with Goering and some of the others. Men you will be getting to know very soon. Good German men…”

  Goebbels lit a cigar and placed it into his pelvis ashtray.

  “Anyway, this business with the Jews is getting out of hand. While we were in the meeting a message came. It was from Adolf Hitler. He sent a notice that we are to begin the Final Solution.”

  “I’m sorry. I don’t know what that is.”

  “Nasty business…”

  “I don’t doubt it. Everything having to do with Jews is a nasty business.”

  “Yes, that is true.” Goebbels hesitated for a moment. After taking a long puff on his cigar and a sip of beer, he looked Manfred straight in the eye. “It is the elimination of all of the Jews in Germany.”