“Do you think he would actually do it? Do you think he is really that cruel?” Zofia asked.
“Yes,” Fruma said, he voice broken. “Zofia, we must do something. We cannot put Eidel’s safety in Koppel’s hands. If he should decide for any reason that he wants to take her, God forbid. Well…he will. ”
Zofia swallowed hard. She tried to speak, and at first, she couldn’t. Then in a whisper, she asked, “So what can we do? If we try to escape, they will find all of us, and Eidel will suffer anyway.”
“My plan is not a pleasant one. I am sorry to suggest this, but…I think we should have Karl that man from the black market, find Helen, and ask Helen to take Eidel, to keep her as her own until we can get out of here. She can tell everyone that Eidel is hers. Helen has a good heart. She would do it. She would help us. I know she would. Eidel is blonde, she doesn’t look Jewish. This may be our little one’s only chance.”
Zofia could not speak. Give Eidel up? Send her away? Dear God, my child, my precious child… But if Zofia refused, then she would put Eidel at risk. This way, no matter what happened, Eidel would be safe. Was there really a choice? Again, she looked at the baby, asleep, her tiny thumb in her mouth, the brush of her soft eyelashes against her pale skin, the sweet smell of her essence when Zofia held her close… Eidel, gone… For now, maybe forever. But, at least Eidel would live. She, Zofia, might not see her daughter grow up, get married, have children. But Eidel would have this chance. She would live. She would be away from the Ghetto, with its constant threat of disease and starvation. In a Gentile home, Eidel would be safe from the cold, from the Ghetto, and from Koppel. Eidel… My life, my child.
“Tell Karl to contact Helen the next time he goes outside the Ghetto. Tell him to ask her if she is willing to take Eidel. We will pay him for his help,” Zofia said.
Chapter 29
Christa Blau had come to enjoy the life style she and Manfred shared. Every week he remembered to bring her roses, he scooped them up from the street vendor on his way home from the office. When he entered their home, he never forgot to kiss her, and tell her how beautiful she looked. The Nazi Party saw to it that they had a lovely two-story house that was made of sturdy white brick, with a flower garden surrounding the front entrance. In fact, the house was already exquisitely furnished when they moved in, with stylish pieces of well-made furniture and real artwork. She never questioned where these things came from. When Goebbels offered gifts to the Blaus, Christa smiled and thanked him for his extreme generosity. She and Manfred had come to know the Goebbels family quite well, after several dinners at their home. The Blaus reciprocated the invitation as soon as they moved into their home. At least once a month Manfred and Christa attended elegant parties where she was entertained with bright and witty conversation by some of Hitler’s elite. These charming men in pressed black uniforms complimented her shimmering blond hair and athletic figure. Twice she had also been a dinner guest at an affair given to honor the Führer himself. In fact, she’d been introduced to Adolf Hitler, and he’d complimented her on her remarkable Aryan beauty. She’d blushed with pride. Everyone they met always told Manfred he had a perfect German wife. It was an ideal life, a life of luxury, friendships, acceptance, and beauty. However, there was one small glitch. No matter how hard the couple tried, Christa did not conceive. They increased the frequency of their attempts, but still, Christa’s menstrual blood came on time every month. It was obvious that Goebbels was disappointed. He made occasional snide comments to Manfred, and even mentioned it to Christa. Then one night at a dinner, when she spoke with Heinrich Himmler, he seemed surprised that she and Manfred had been married over a year and she was still not with child. It happened at a gala, a rally of sorts, at the Nazi Headquarters in Nuremburg. Goebbels and his wife shared a hotel room down the hall from Manfred and Christa, whom Dr. Goebbels had invited as his guests. The night they met Himmler, they attended a dinner in a room that was decorated with banners, flags, and photos of the Führer. Just by the décor, Manfred could see that Goebbels had a hand in the celebration. A crystal chandelier twinkled like stars in the dimly lit room. Each table had a centerpiece, a silver candelabra with a large swastika in its center. The band played traditional German tunes and music from Wagner’s operas. Since his association with Goebbels and the Party, Manfred had become a reasonably good dancer. He’d developed charm, which he used when cavorting with his superiors. They liked him. He, unlike some of the others who were ungrateful, showed a genuine love and respect for the Nazi Party, and even more importantly, a willingness to do whatever was necessary to bring the dream of a thousand-year Reich to reality. Manfred was clever. Any distaste he might have toward an idea or program was well hidden. Whatever his superiors proposed was golden to him.
After several dances, the bandleader announced that dinner was served.
Manfred and Christa took their seats. Although they were not at the head table, they were close enough for Goebbels to wink and smile at Manfred, who returned the gesture. After dinner, the band began to play, and almost everyone got up to dance. Himmler walked over to the table where the Blaus had been sitting. Although he was not a handsome man, his black uniform fit him impeccably, and his shoes were shined, reflecting the light.
“May I be so bold as to request this dance with your wife, Manfred?”
“But of course, if Christa doesn’t mind.”
“I don’t mind at all. I am honored, Reichsführer,” Christa said to Himmler, as her blue eyes glistened in the candlelight that illumined her ivory skin.
It was a waltz. As they whirled around the room, Himmler directed his complete attention to Christa.
“You dance beautifully.” He said.
“Thank you.” She blushed.
“I don’t know how to address this with you; however, please don’t be offended.”
She did not answer. She waited.
“Dr. Goebbels has spoken to me about you and Manfred wanting to have children. And of course, we, the Party, want that more than anything because we need more good Aryan children. It is very important to our growth as a nation.”
“We can’t seem to have children. I don’t know why.”
“Well, may I make a suggestion?” he asked. “Not to be bold or rude…”
“Yes, please do, Reichsführer.”
“Have you considered adopting a child from the Lebensborn?” he asked.
“I’ve never thought about it.”
“There are many beautiful blond-haired, blue-eyed children waiting to be adopted by a fine Aryan couple just like you two.”
“Really? What would we have to do in order to adopt?”
“Actually, nothing. The truth is that you and Manfred are perfect candidates. In fact, I would bet that you might even find one of the babies that looks so much like you, you would forget it was not your own.”
“Oh, Reichsführer, my arms have ached for a child. I would be so grateful if you could help us,” she said.
His hand moved a little lower on her back as he pulled her a little closer to him.
“I’m sure it can all be arranged. I’ll speak to Dr. Goebbels about it, and we will send you and your husband to Munich, to Steinhöring, the home for the Lebensborn, where you can choose a child.”
“I can never thank you enough.”
“I’m sure we will think of something,” Himmler smiled.
Chapter 30
It was late when Manfred and Christa arrived back at the hotel room. He undressed and took a shower, while she sat at the vanity removing her makeup and combing her hair. When he came into the bedroom, she turned to look at him. He was still slender, but he’d filled out since their marriage. In his black SS uniform, he appeared to be a man strong, powerful, daunting, but standing here wrapped in a towel, to her, he still looked like a young boy. That same young boy she’d taken to her bed on their wedding night. She couldn’t help but compare him to Himmler. Himmler, a powerful man indeed, not necessarily a looker, but the authority in his
step, the confidence in his manner; well, it was attractive, very attractive.
She put the comb down on her dressing table. It was an ivory comb inlaid with mother of pearl. Manfred had given it to her as a gift for their first anniversary.
“Manfred…”
“Yes, dear.”
“Please sit down. I want to speak with you about something.”
“Yes…”
“Well, tonight when I was dancing with the Reichsführer, he mentioned something to me.” She said, looking in his eyes assessing his mood. This pregnancy issue sometimes brought out a dark side of him. She must tread very gently. “I hope you won’t be angry, but he mentioned adoption. He said that we would qualify for a baby from the Lebensborn. He said that there is a home in Munich. I have heard of it too, it is called Heim Hochland or Steinhöring. He also said that if we wanted it, we could receive a beautiful Aryan child in need of a home just like ours, a home with a father who is devoted to the Reich and a mother who will love and care for it.”
Manfred sat on the edge of the four-poster bed. Perhaps this was the answer. It would take the stress off their marriage.
“I am not angry. In fact, I think it might be good for us. We’ve both wanted a baby for so long now.”
“Oh, Manfred, do you mean it?” She got up and wrapped her arms around his neck.
“Yes, I do. I will talk to Dr. Goebbels on Monday morning, and see when he thinks it might be convenient for me to take a week off so that we can go up to the Highlands and bring the child back with us.”
She rubbed the back of his neck and he pulled her closer.
“Come to bed,” he whispered in her ear. “Even though we will adopt a child, there is no need to stop trying.”
She kissed him and broke away for a moment to turn out the lights. Then she got in beside him and they made love.
Chapter 31
“Heil Hitler.” Manfred walked into his office to find Dr. Goebbels waiting.
“Heil Hitler,” Goebbels said.
“Can I have my secretary get you anything? Coffee? Tea, perhaps?” Manfred asked.
Goebbels shook his head. “No thank you. I just finished breakfast,” he said smiling like a Cheshire cat. “Manfred, your pretty little wife made quite the impression on the Reichsführer. Do you know what he has done? He has instructed me to present you with a car and a driver. You will have your own automobile.”
“I am taken aback,” Manfred said and his face broke into a huge smile. “An auto? That’s quite a gift.”
“Well, Himmler said that you and Christa planned to adopt a child from the Lebensborn, and with a little one you will need reliable transportation. Is this true about the adoption?”
“Yes, it is. In fact I was going to ask you about taking a week off to go up to Munich and see the children so that we could select one.”
“Of course. It will be arranged. Would next month be soon enough? I need you for a few things this month.”
“Yes, that would be just fine.”
“I think the spring should be a nice time to travel.. By then the weather should have broken and you can have a few nice days to enjoy the country.”
“Dr. Goebbels, you have always been so kind to me.”
“Yes, you are a good employee, a dedicated member of the Party, and a good friend. I am proud to know you, Manfred.”
“Sir, knowing you has been the greatest honor and most precious part of my life.”
“I’m glad to hear it. In fact, I brought you a gift, because you made such a good impression on the Reichsführer. Something for your office… The good impression you’ve made reflects on me, you know.”
“I do, and I can never tell you how much it means to me to be someone you can be proud of.”
Goebbels handed Manfred a large box. It was wrapped in white paper with a black bow.
“This gift I am giving you is unique, very unique.” Goebbels said. “Go ahead, open it.”
Manfred untied the ribbon. Then he tore the paper and took the top off. Inside he saw the dried white bones of a human pelvis. Skeletal, bleached. He almost let out a scream. Looking up his eyes met the doctor’s with confusion.
“It’s an ashtray, a conversation piece. We have them made from the pelvis of dead Jews. Only top-ranking officers own them. I thought you might like it… Gives people something to look at when they come into your office.” Dr. Goebbels smiled. “I have one.”
“Thank you sir, thank you,” Manfred said trying to hide his revulsion. He put the box on the side of the desk. “It is a truly unique gift.” Later, he would put the human ashtray on the other side of the room, where he might avoid looking at it. But the harder he tried to avert his eyes, the more drawn they were to white sloping pelvis.
Chapter 32
Once he was sure his wife Heidi was asleep, Dr. Henkener left the bedroom and dressed quietly in the downstairs bathroom. It was best to keep Heidi from knowing anything. The less she knew, the better. It was not that he didn’t trust her. Although she did not agree with his sympathies for the Jews, he knew she would never turn him in. But why subject her to this possible danger. If she remained ignorant, at least she remained safe. He dragged a wet comb through his thinning white hair and looked in the mirror. Satisfied that even though his insides were churning, he appeared calm and normal, after quietly locking the door, he left the house. Dr. Rosen, his wife and fifteen-year-old daughter were to meet him at the office. Thomas Henkener knew it was far more dangerous for them to be out after curfew than it was for him to be taking a stroll. And even if he were stopped by the police, he could always tell them he’d forgotten important papers at his office. After all, he was a doctor. Doctors worked all hours. His excuse was quite believable. Still, he felt the sweat trickle down his neck, even as the icy wind assaulted his face.
He arrived at the office and only lit a small lamp in the hallway, far away from any windows. The Rosens arrived almost immediately. As instructed by Dr. Henkener, the family carried no luggage, but Dr. Henkener could see that they wore several layers of clothing.
“I’m glad to see you, Zalaman.” Dr Henkener reached out and shook Dr. Rosen’s hand.
“Thank you for doing this for us, Thomas. I realize what a risk you are putting yourself at.”
“How could I not do this? It is the only humane thing to do with a government that is responsible for such terrible acts. Anyway, we must not loiter. Let me show you and your family to the attic.”
Dr. Henkener lit a candle and turned off the lamp. It was best that they do as much without light as possible. Then he put another candle in his pocket.
“Follow me,” he said.
Dr. Henkener led them through a dark, winding hallway, through the back of the building where noone ever went as he fought the cobwebs in the way. Dust covered the floor, and Mrs. Rosen coughed. When they got to the end of the hall, Thomas Henkener pulled out a small step stool from under a hidden crawl space.
“Hold the candle for a moment, Zalaman,” Dr Henkener said.
Then he climbed on the step stool and pushed hard on a heavy tile in the ceiling. It opened, pouring out a gust of dust and grime, to reveal only darkness.
“Come, we have to go up here.” Dr. Henkener said as he used his arms to pull his body up into the attic. Next, Dr. Rosen followed. Then they reached down and helped the women, who were not strong enough to pull themselves up. Once everyone was inside the attic, they looked around. Although they only had the light of a small candle, it was obvious that the room was covered in filth. A few wooden crates sat in a corner, but other than that, the room was bare. Minka Rosen, Dr. Rosen’s daughter, let out a scream as a spider crawled across the floor. Then she began to cry. Her mother cradled her. Dr. Rosen stepped on the insect, and frowned at his daughter.
“Shh, shh, Minka,” Dr. Rosen said. “We have to be very quiet. If we are not quiet, we will be discovered. And that would be bad, not only for us, but for Dr. Henkener. So, you must never scream like that a
gain. Do you understand? It is very important that you understand, mine kind.”
Minka nodded, wiping the tears from her face. “I’m sorry, Dr. Henkener. I didn’t mean it. It was a reaction. I’m afraid of insects. It won’t happen again though, I promise,” she said.
Minka began taking bits of food out of her clothing and laying them on top of the crates.
“Next time I come, I will bring blankets,” Dr. Henkener said. “I’m sorry I didn’t think of it.”
“We’ll be fine. Don’t worry about us,” Dr. Rosen said. “We have plenty of clothes. And besides you are doing enough.”
“I’ll bring as much food as I am able to secure, as well,” Dr. Henkener said. He looked around the room. He could not imagine what staying in this grimy, cramped area would be like. Years ago, before the country had gone mad, he’d been to a party at the Rosen’s home. He remembered it was a lovely bungalow, stylishly furnished, immaculate. Now, Dr. Henkener felt a deep sorrow as he watched his colleague and his family forced to endure these horrendous conditions. Not only was he sorry, but he was ashamed, ashamed to be German, to be part of a regime that treated people the way the Nazis treated the Jews.
Chapter 33
Christa sat beside Manfred in the backseat of the shiny black car. The rich smell of leather mingled with cigar smoke and expensive cologne. Manfred closed the privacy window between the couple and the driver. Then he took Christa’s hand and held it between both of his.
“Would you prefer a boy or girl?” Christa asked.
Manfred thought for a moment. “Oh, I don’t know. Let’s have a look and see what is available.” It would be easier to raise a girl. So much less would be expected of her, leaving fewer opportunities for disappointment among Manfred’s superiors. If he had a son who did not excel, it would be a bad reflection on him. He’d worked too hard to build a rapport with all of those who could further his career for him to allow a child to get in the way.
You Are My Sunshine: A Novel Of The Holocaust (All My Love Detrick Book 2) Page 14