“Elimination? You mean murder?”
“I mean…elimination. You do understand.”
“We have to kill them?”
“I suppose that is the only way to eliminate them.”
Manfred nodded. He felt a thickening in his throat as if he might vomit. It was best to remain quiet, regain composure. He would not be directly involved, so why worry. This would take place far from his tidy office.
“We should be arresting them soon enough and shipping them off to the camps that we’ve been building for this purpose. There we will deal with them,” Goebbels said.
Manfred nodded again.
For several minutes, the room was quiet. The only sound was irritating the ticking from the clock on the wall.
“Nasty, but necessary business,” Goebbels said, shaking his head as if the job were a burden he could shake off. “Would you like to join me for dinner down the street at the café? Or do you want to get on home to that pretty wife of yours?” He patted Manfred’s shoulder. “I would really like it if you joined me.”
“Then, of course, I would be happy to accompany you to dinner. Just give me a moment to call Christa and let her know I am going to be late.”
“Of course, we would not want her to worry,” Goebbels smiled.
Chapter 19
Try as they might, Christa could not become pregnant. After dinner the following evening, they sat at the table eating strudel and coffee. Manfred looked worried.
“What is it? You look upset.”
“No, darling, nothing is wrong,” he said.
“Are you upset that I cannot conceive?”
“No, I am sure you will soon enough. We are probably trying too hard.”
“Perhaps we should go and see my father. He can test us to see what is wrong. It might be something simple.”
“Yes, all right. If you would like, we will go,” he said, and patted her hand.
Manfred was worried. He was worried about so many things. The inability to conceive was certainly on his mind, covert operations that he had become privy to at the office were concerning him, and his workload was constantly increasing. Most troubling of all was the fact that he had stood by and watched as an old friend had been arrested. He could not erase the scene from his mind. It was the man who owned the delicatessen right down the street from the apartment where he’d grown up. The man was a Jew. But one incident that occurred when he was just a boy stuck out in his mind. It was a terrible winter he and his mother were so poor that they went for days without food. Manfred had gone down to the butcher and begged for credit, only to be turned away. On his way home, he’d stopped at the delicatessen, hoping to ask for the crumbs of bread that diners had left on their plates. At the time, the deli owner was much younger than he was today. Manfred recalled walking up to the counter, his head hung in shame, and asking for anything edible that might be in the trash can. The Jew had looked at him. He’d refused to let him look in the trash. Instead, this man had given him two sandwiches to take home to his mother. That night he’d slept on a full belly for the first time in a long time. He had never forgotten it, and yet, when this man lay on the cobblestones just a few feet in front of him, beaten and bleeding, speaking in a voice barely audible…
“Manfred,” he’d said his name as he stared at him through eyes crusted shut with blood. “Manfred Blau? Is that you?” The old man squinted against the bright sunlight.
“Manfred?” Again, he said it, in a voice that cracked, like the dried blood in the old Jew’s white hair. “Help me, please, Manfred. Help me…you’ve always been a good boy. Please, don’t let them do this to me…”
Manfred turned his head. He could not bear to look at the old man lying on the pavement, surrounded by a pool of dark blood.
Why did he have to see this? He was only here because Dr. Goebbels had sent him on this mission with the Gestapo to see how things were being handled. For Joseph’s sake, he must show leadership qualities. He needed to convince them that he was strong and would not become squeamish performing the tasks the Fatherland demanded of him. He wanted to be heartless, ruthless, and single-minded: a perfect soldier, a perfect Nazi, the man that the Party expected him to be. But now, here he was, in the middle of the street with the Gestapo agents standing right beside him, so close that he could smell their cologne, and all he wanted to do was help the old Jew. He dared not acknowledge this man, or worse, tell him to run. He wanted to. He wanted to scream. To vomit at the sight of the battered man covered in blood. He could taste the sandwiches. If he closed his eyes, he remembered his mother’s smile when he’d handed her the food wrapped in white butcher paper. This was madness. It was suicide. He must look the other way. Any feelings of sympathy would mark him as either too weak to be an officer, or worse, as a traitor. It would put him and Christa in terrible danger. For just a second his eyes connected with the rheumy, pleading eyes of the old Jew. “Stop accusing me, stop begging me,” Manfred said in his mind. “There is nothing I can do to help you.” Then he turned and walked away, to the sound of his heels clicking against the cobblestone walk. Manfred told himself over and over that the man was a Jew, and Jews were enemies of Germany. It must be this way if the Fatherland was to be saved. Still, he kept thinking of how kind the man had been to him when he was just a boy. And now, Manfred knew that same man was to be taken to a camp. And, unlike so many others at this point in time, Manfred already knew about the final solution. The old Jew was to be murdered. Every night since the incident, Manfred found it hard to sleep. Oh, he would fall asleep in exhaustion as soon as his head hit the pillow, but within an hour or two he was awake. He’d get up and walk around, the demons in his mind taunting him. He’d taken a liking to drinking shots of whiskey to quiet those demons. As the alcohol burned his throat, it also clouded his feelings, making it easier to conduct necessary business. In order for Germany to take its rightful place as the world power, all of the undesirable elements must be eliminated. This is the way it must be, Manfred thought. He poured another shot.
Chapter 20
For several months, Dr. Goebbels released propaganda-filled films to the German population, showing how the Polish people were taking advantage of their German neighbors. But even though Hitler had promised to protect and never invade Poland, these movies made it clear that Germany must defend herself.
On a cool day, the first of September in the year of 1939, Hitler broke his promise to Poland. Because Germany had vowed to protect and never invade their Polish neighbors, Poland did not see any need to strengthen their army. Instead, they relied on the integrity of the word of the great Führer. Therefore, when the German army invaded Poland, the Polish were no match for the powerful Third Reich. Within two weeks, Germany had conquered Poland, and the Nazi occupation began.
Chapter 21
Eidel crawled across the floor of the apartment. She went straight to Gitel’s waiting arms. Gitel lifted the baby high in the air as the child’s giggles filled the room. Fruma was in the kitchen preparing pancakes and Zofia was washing diapers.
“Can you believe she is almost a year old?” Fruma said.
“Well, not quite, but yes, almost,”Zofia said.
“Eh, you just don’t want to get old, so you want her to stay a baby forever,” Gitel said.
“Don’t you?” Zofia took a moment to walk away from the washbasin and marvel at Eidel.
“I do, actually. She is the most wonderful treasure we have ever had here.”
“That she is,” Fruma said. “I think we should try to buy a used rug. I hate it that she is crawling around on the cold floor. The winter is coming. It will be too cold for her to be doing that.”
“Yes, let’s see what kind of rug we can get,” Gitel said.
“Oh, Zofia, I forgot to tell you, when you were buying milk yesterday, Helen came by the shop. She brought you a little present for Eidel. And… She brought news, too. She would probably want to tell you herself.”
“Oh, come on, Fruma. You ca
n’t do this to me. I can’t stand the suspense. What news?”
“Well…”
“Come on…”
“She’s pregnant.”
“Oh, that’s wonderful.”
“Yes, isn’t it? The babies will be close in age. That will be nice for them as they grow up.”
“It will.”
“Here is the gift Helen brought for Eidel. It’s a small toy, a little yellow duck.” Fruma handed the toy to Zofia.
“She is so kind. Her mother is too.”
“Yes. I like them both very much.”
“You know, I’ve noticed that Shmul has taken quite an interest in you,” Fruma said
“Shmul? Who is Shmul?” Zofia asked
“You know who that is. It’s the boy who brings the fabric samples. He always watches you work. I see how he looks at you.’
“Oh, Fruma, I’m not looking for a husband. I don’t have time for such things.”
“What do you mean you have no time? Only a stone should be all alone. You need someone in your life. I have Gitel, but who do you have?”
“Well, I have you and Gitel, and of course, I have Eidel.”
“But one day Eidel will go off to live her own life. And Gitel and I are much older than you. What will happen when we die?”
“Don’t talk about dying, please.”
“Well, at least you could give this Shmul a chance.”
“Perhaps, I don’t know.”
“Why don’t you invite him for a Shabbos dinner? You’ll see how you like each other. If you like him, fine. If not, well, nothing is lost, right?”
“Oh, Fruma, I don’t know. I‘ll have to wait and see.”
“Fruma, leave her alone. She has to decide this kind of thing by herself. She’ll know when she’s ready.”
“Oy, Gitel, you know she won’t be young forever. Youth and beauty fade. One day her youth will be gone. If she’s going to find a partner, now is the time.”
“You’re no longer young, but to me you’re still, and always will be beautiful.”
“Gitel, you are a dear,” Fruma laughed.
It was two weeks before Shmul came to the shop with his trunk filled with fabrics, and odds and ends. As always, he laid the trunk open in the middle of the floor, where the Fruma and Zofia could look through it to see what they might need.
“So, Shmul, you’re married?” Fruma asked. She avoided looking at Zofia, who was giving her a dirty look.
“No, I’ve never been married,” Shmul said to Fruma, but he was looking at Zofia.
Zofia felt her face burn with embarrassment.
“Do you have a special girl?”
“No, not really, I see a few people on occasion.”
“You know that Zofia is not married.”
“Fruma!”
“Well, you aren’t.”
“So, what does that have to do with buying fabric?”
“Nothing, nothing to do with buying fabric.”
“I think your boss is trying to arrange a date for us,” Shmul said.
“Yes, I can certainly see that.” Zofia glared at Fruma who turned away putting all her focus on the pile of fabrics.
“I would like to take you for dinner, or maybe we could go for a walk,” Shmul said.
“You do realize that Eidel is my daughter.”
“Yes, I know. I remember when you were pregnant.”
Zofia nodded.
“And you still want to take me to dinner?”
“Yes, I do. Would you like to go?”
Zofia looked up at him. If he wasn’t exactly nice looking, at least he was very well dressed. Shmul wore a very well-tailored grey suit and black tie. His shirt was white cotton and he wore beautiful shiny gold cuff links.
“All right,” Zofia said. Now Fruma looked up from the pile of fabric. “You and Gitel will watch Eidel for me?”
“Of course. Did you doubt it?” Fruma smiled.
“No.”
“Maybe tomorrow night?” Shmul asked.
“Yes, all right, tomorrow night, after work.”
“Is seven too early?”
“Seven is fine. She can leave a little bit early,” Fruma said.
“I’ll meet you here?” Shmul asked.
“Yes, here at the shop,” Zofia said.
After Fruma picked several bolts of material and a small bag of pearls from Shuml’s trunk, he left.
“Why did you do that?” Zofia asked. “I told you I am not interested in looking for a husband.”
“So, you’ll have a nice dinner. What’s so wrong with that?”
“Oh, Fruma, I don’t know what to say.”
“Then say thank you.”
Zofia shook her head. Then she laughed. “Thank you,” She said.
Shmul took Zofia to the small kosher restaurant three blocks from the shop. He ordered crispy-skinned roasted chicken, kishka, and potato pancakes with sour cream and applesauce.
“If I keep eating like this, I’ll get as fat as a cow,” Zofia smiled.
“Do you like it?”
“Yes, of course. It is delicious.”
“You have probably heard this before, but I wanted to say that you are very pretty.”
“Oh, thank you,” Zofia said, turning away, embarrassed.
“You are so closed up though. Why?”
“I’m not closed up.”
“Sure you are. You won’t even give me a chance. I am a pretty nice guy.”
“Yes, well, the truth is I’m not ready to get involved with anyone. I have Eidel to think of, and quite frankly, she is my main focus.”
“I understand. I’m not looking for anything serious, like marriage. But I know that you must get lonely, and having someone to have dinner with is not such a bad thing.”
“No, it isn’t,” Zofia said. “I am sure you’ve heard the rumors about me, a woman bearing a child without a husband.”
“Yes, I have.”
“And I suppose that makes you feel as if I am easy?”
“I’m sorry, but I don’t know what you mean.”
“I mean that you know that I am not a virgin and so you assume taking another man into my bed would be nothing for me.”
“Well, yes. I do feel that way. Woman make too much of this sort of thing. It would be nice if it could be more casual.”
“Well…let me say this. I do not plan to sleep with you. Do you understand?”
“Yes and no. I mean, why not? Don’t you get lonely? And isn’t it true that once a woman has been with a man, she needs to have it again? Sort of like an itch that needs to be scratched?”
“Oh, Shmul,” Zofia shook her head “This was a mistake. I knew it was. Fruma meant well, but I am not looking for something like this,” Zofia said, removing the napkin from her lap and placing it on the table. “Goodnight,” she said, and stood up to leave the restaurant.
“Zofia, what are you looking for? Do you want to spend the rest of your life alone, or worse living with two lesbians? A little time with a man would do you good. Or maybe you are living with two lesbians because you are one?”
Shmul was still talking as Zofia walked out the door.
The following day Gitel went off to work and Fruma and Zofia took Eidel to the shop. Eidel fussed most of the morning wanting to be picked up and carried. But both women were busy, so all they could manage was a few minutes between seams.
“She’s very fussy today.”
“Yes, does her head feel hot?” Zofia asked.
“No, I checked a few minutes ago. Maybe she’s cutting a tooth.”
“Yes, perhaps that’s it. Here give her to me for a minute.” Fruma handed Eidel to her mother. Zofia rocked the baby in her arms and tried to look in her mouth.
“I think her gums are swelling. Do you have any whiskey?”
“I do, but its back at the apartment. We don’t have any here.”
“Then she’ll have to wait until tonight,” Zofia said.
“By the way, how was your
date with Shmul?”
“Terrible, like I thought it would be. I know that no man is going to have respect for me because of what I have done, having a child without the benefit of marriage. They think that since I’ve already been with a man, I would think nothing of doing it again. They look at me as an easy mark. I’m not.”
“Of course you are not. Did he try to take you to bed?”
“Yes and no, I mean he didn’t touch me. He asked. But he sort of let me know that he felt that I was going to be easy. I walked out of the restaurant.”
“Oh sweetie, I am so sorry. I never meant for you to get hurt. It’s my fault. I meant well. I really did.”
“I know you did, Fruma. But I think that part of my life is over. No more love affairs for me. From now on, I need to focus on my child.”
“Over? You are so young. Were you so in love with Eidel’s father that you can’t look at another man?”
“I thought I was. I was just a silly young girl. I wanted to have some kind of big romance. You know, get swept off my feet, like the girls you read about in books. Instead, I got pregnant by my teacher who wanted nothing to do with me after he got his way.”
“Oh, you never told me before.”
“I know. I wasn’t ready. But yes, he was my teacher, an American, not Jewish, very dapper. I was a fool. I won’t be a fool for any man ever again.”
By lunchtime, Eidel’s whining had begun to grate on both of their nerves. Between the humming of the machines and the noise from outside, Zofia was getting a headache.
“Oh, Eidel, please be quiet already,” Zofia said, but of course, she knew the baby did not understand. Her hands were shaking and she felt like she might cry. “She is really getting to me today, Fruma.”
“Maybe you should take her out for a walk in the buggy for a little while. The fresh air will do you both good,” Fruma suggested. “Besides Eidel always calms down and takes a nap after she goes for a walk outside.”
You Are My Sunshine: A Novel Of The Holocaust (All My Love Detrick Book 2) Page 10