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

by Roberta Kagan

  “Tell me more, Christa. Tell me that you are happy you married me and that you want me all the time. Making love to me is your greatest joy.”

  “I am happy I married you. I want you all the time. You bring me joy,” Zofia said. Her knees giving way, she had to grip the desk to keep from falling on to the floor. She wanted to run away from the hands that searched under her uniform, touching, gently groping, fondling, and prying, his fingers finding her most private places. “STOP!” she cried out in her mind. Tears trickled down her face.

  “More… Tell me Christa. Do you love me? Do my fingers bring you pleasure?”

  She nodded.

  “Answer me!.”

  “Yes, Arbeitsführer.”

  “You ruined it. Manfred. Call me Manfred.”

  “Yes, Manfred. Yes.”

  “Get down on your knees.”

  Zofia did as he told her to do. He unbuttoned his pants and undid the zipper.

  “Touch me.”

  She placed her hand on his erect penis.”

  “Your hands are so cold. Take me into your mouth,” Manfred said.

  Zofia thought she might vomit as she put her lips around him. She felt herself gag and hoped he did not realize it.

  “Christa…” Manfred said. “I love you. I am sorry. You forgive me don’t you? I have always loved you. You are my life.”

  Zofia could not move.

  “Suck me harder! Make me believe you like it!”

  Zofia gagged, but she continued, while Manfred ran his hands through the short tufts of hair that had grown back on her head.

  Finally, it was over. She wanted to vomit the slimy snot into the wastebasket, but she dared not. Instead, she forced herself to swallow. Uncontrollably, she gagged loud and hard.

  “I forgive you this time. Don’t gag again.”

  She nodded.

  “Remember next time, you will tell me how you have forgiven me. You will tell me that you understand why I had to do what I did.”

  Zofia had no idea what Manfred was talking about, and she dared not ask, but she nodded her head.

  “You may go now.”

  The rest of the day Manfred stayed in his study.

  When Katja awoke from her nap, she came dashing out of her bedroom and ran to Zofia, who was still shaken from the afternoon’s events.

  “Snack?” Katja asked.

  “Yes, sweetie, Let me get you a snack.”

  When the guard arrived to escort Zofia back to the camp, she was relieved to leave.

  Zofia stood at roll call her shoulders slumped. Even though she was hungry, she could not eat her dinner. Marsha watched her friend with a keen eye.

  “Something is wrong. What is it?”

  “Nothing,” Zofia said.

  “Can I have your food, if you are not going to eat it?” one of the other prisoners asked.

  Zofia handed her the bowl of soup.

  That night Marsha brought her blanket and curled into Zofia’s cot.

  “You’ve been so distant today. Please talk to me.”

  “Christa is very ill. I am afraid that soon I will be sent back to the camp permanently.”

  “I find that doubtful. Even if she dies, they will need you to care for the child.”

  “Perhaps… I hate to think she might die.”

  “You care for her?” Marsha asked.

  “I do. She is kind to me. As you know, she is good enough to give me extra food and a warm coat. She is not a bad person, just an ordinary woman caught in a terrible situation.”

  “She is still a German married to a Nazi. That makes her a Nazi.”

  “I don’t believe that.”

  “Don’t you, Zofia? Deep in your heart, don’t you?”

  Chapter 51

  It became a pattern. Zofia dreaded the daily fondling, prodding and poking, the darkness. She hated Manfred. The sound of his voice made her want to spit.

  “Tell me,” he said.

  “I love you, Manfred.” Pretend you are not here, she told herself. Pretend this is not happening to you.

  “And?”

  “I forgive you. Everything that happened was never your fault. There is no one else for me. There never has been.”

  “Christa…” he said as Zofia took him into her mouth, her knees aching as she knelt on the hardwood floor.

  After several months, Zofia was able to detach from her body. She did not feel his hands, nor did she feel the slime of his desire run down her throat.

  Then one afternoon, he wanted more.

  “Leave the light on,” he said. “Take off your dress.”

  She did as he asked, never looking into his eyes.

  “You hate me don’t you?” he asked.

  She did not answer.

  “Does any of this please you?”

  She did not answer.

  “Tell me. I want to know the truth. Does any of this give you pleasure? I promise I will not be angry at your answer.”

  “No, it does not. I wish you would stop.” She could not believe she’d said that.

  He nodded. “And what do you think of me? Come on. The truth. I want to know what it is about me that offends you.”

  She knew he drank. She’d cleared away the empty bottles. Could he be drunk?

  “Please…tell me.”

  He seemed almost tender, almost begging.

  “You are cruel. You flaunt your power on the women in the camp, on your wife, and on me. I am afraid of you.”

  “Hmmm…” he said. “Afraid of me…”

  Manfred got up and pushed her out of the way. He walked around the office for several minutes, pacing like a panther.

  “I’m a horrible man, Zofia.” He said then he took a swig from a bottle of whiskey that sat on the shelf.

  Without warning, he walked over to Zofia and threw her onto the floor. Her head hit the ground with a thud. Then he stared into her eyes.

  “You’re afraid of me? I don’t want you afraid, I want you terrified. YOU and every other woman will learn to respect me, if you know what’s good for you. I am sick and tired of women. Sick and tired do you hear me?”

  He took his gun from the side of his waist.

  “You see this?”

  Zofia lay naked on the floor, trembling.

  “Answer me when I talk to you…”

  She nodded “yes.”

  “Spread your legs…”

  She gazed at him, dumbfounded.

  “Do as I say or I will shoot you dead. I can you know. I have no one to answer to. You will be swept away like the piece of trash that you are… No one will care, or take notice of your death.”

  She spread her legs. No, please… Her mind raced. She was sure he planned to enter her.

  Instead, he took the gun and shoved the barrel inside of her.

  Zofia could not disengage from her body. She felt the cold steel inside of her most private place. Tears fell freely from her eyes and ran off her cheeks on to the floor.

  “I beg you, please have pity, Arbeitsführer. Please…” She felt her legs quaking with fear. “I beg you please…”

  He knelt over her. She was so terrified that she felt she might urinate on his gun. That, she knew, would make him angry. He jabbed the weapon harder into her body. She cried out in pain and horror.

  “You see, you see, what I can do to you if I want to? I can do this anytime I want to… I can pull the trigger and send a bullet right up inside of what makes you a woman. WOMEN!” His body was shaking; his face was red with rage and alcohol.

  “I beg you, Manfred…” she said.

  Perhaps it was the sound of his name. He removed the gun, stood up, and placed it upon his desk.

  “Get up, please. Put your dress on, and leave me. Quickly!”

  She did.

  It was almost a week before Manfred bothered Zofia in a sexual manner again.

  “Come into my office,” he said one afternoon in early autumn.

  She had almost allowed herself to believe that he
was done with her, she’d hoped and prayed it was true.

  “I wanted to apologize for my behavior,” he said.

  She nodded, knowing she could not trust him.

  “We will begin our game again. However, you must not show me any more disrespect. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, Arbeitsführer,” she said, feeling the sweat begin to run down her back.

  And so, he began the daily ritual again. Zofia remained silent, and just complied with his wishes, disengaging from her body, feeling nothing. At least he’d never used his pistol in that horrible way again.

  “I’ve decided that you will not go back to the camp anymore,” Manfred said. “You will sleep in the basement and be available for me whenever I want you.”

  She felt the bile rise in her throat and swallowed hard.

  “Arbeitsführer,” she said the words croaking out. “May I please ask a favor? Please…”

  “A favor? You are already receiving a favor. You will sleep in a bed, in a clean room. You have enough food. What more could you want? Look at your peers. They would give anything to be in your position. And you have a favor to request. Hmmm…” he said walking around her. “All right, I am feeling generous today. Go ahead and ask me. Perhaps I will indulge you.”

  “Arbeitsführer, please, I have a friend at the camp. I want to go and tell her that I am not going to be returning. I also would like to give her my coat so that she will be warm.”

  “Generous of you… Sometimes you Jews amaze me with your human-like qualities. You want to make a gift to your friend...” He walked around her nodding. “Oh, very well… I suppose it would be all right. When the guard arrives this afternoon, I’ll have him take you to the barracks. You can spend ten minutes with your friend, and then you are to return.”

  “Thank you, thank you, Arbeitsführer.” She bowed her head, hoping that he would not see that she had started crying.

  As Manfred promised, the guard waited outside the barracks. Zofia had ten minutes to explain.

  “I will not be back. I brought you my coat. Keep it safe. You will need it for the winter,” Zofia said to Marsha.

  Both women were crying. Zofia hugged her friend. She was glad she’d never told Marsha what the Arbeitsführer did to her. It would only cause her more worry.

  “Be safe… I will miss you so much.”

  “I will miss you, too.”

  “I don’t know how I will go on without you,” Marsha said.

  “But you must, because the war will be over soon and soon we will be free. I will find you again, my friend. We will sip tea at an outdoor café under an umbrella and watch the people walk by.”

  Marsha hugged Zofia harder.

  “Don’t stop fighting. Please, don’t give up,” Zofia said.

  “You too, keep fighting. Stay alive,” Marsha said.

  The guard entered. “Time is up. Come on let’s go. Mach schnell.”

  Zofia got up and followed the guard to the door. She turned and looked back. The two women’s eyes met.

  “Goodbye,” Marsha said, as the guard pushed Zofia out.

  Except for memories of Eidel and time spent with Katja, Zofia had lost all emotion. When Manfred touched her, she felt blessed that she could no longer even feel the heat of his hand. She missed Marsha, but she forced thoughts of friend from her mind.

  Zofia had been given a room in the basement of the Blau residence. She’d never seen it before the day she moved in. Overhead a single bulb dimly lit the area to reveal a cot with real sheets and a pillow. Two wool blankets lay folded at the foot of the bed. Adjacent to the room Zofia saw a bathroom with a toilet, a small sink, and a shower. The walls had been painted grey to complement the grey concrete floor. It was safe. It was clean, and far more comfortable than the barracks. Still, she would miss her friend, and here, Manfred had constant access to her. But so did little Katja. She wondered how it was possible to love a child so much and hate the father that created her.

  The seasons came and went. Christa grew weaker. Her eyelids, nails, and lips turned blue as a robin’s egg, an indication that the heart condition she was born with had resurfaced.

  On the morning of Katja’s fourth birthday, Christa asked Zofia if she could try to bake a cake.

  “Have you ever done any baking?”

  “A little… I will try to make something nice for Katja.”

  “You care for Katja a great deal don’t you?” Christa asked. She sat up in bed her back propped up against the pillows.

  “Yes ma’am, I do.”

  “Sit down, Zofia.” Christa patted the bed. “Here, sit beside me. There is something that I must tell you.’

  Zofia ran her hand over the blanket smoothing it over Christa, and then she sat down.

  “I have never told anyone this. But I feel that I must tell you. But, as long as I am alive, you must promise to keep this a secret. Can you promise? I don’t know why, Zofia, but I trust you, and I trust you to keep your word.”

  “I promise.”

  “Zofia, my condition is getting worse. I suppose you can see that. I am not sure that I will survive the winter. And so you must know. You must be aware of what I am about to tell you.”

  “Go on, please,” Zofia said.

  Christa took Zofia’s hand. Zofia felt how cold Christa was.

  “You are so cold. Would you like another blanket?”

  “No, I must tell you…”

  “I’m sorry. Yes, you must. Go on,” Zofia said, squeezing Christa’s hand gently.

  Christa sighed taking a deep breath. Then she began. “Katja is not my daughter, not by blood, anyway; nor is she Manfred’s. Katja is adopted. She was born in the Institute for the Lebensborn. Do you know what that is?”

  “I’ve heard of it. Isn’t it a breeding hospital for Aryan women?”

  “Yes, it is. It is a place where children are bred to build Germany’s new Aryan race, and then they are adopted by Aryan couples. Manfred and I had to be screened before we were allowed to take the baby,” Christa said. She coughed a little; then she reached beneath the sheets. “Here, I have been waiting to show you this.”

  Christa handed a few papers to Zofia. Zofia looked at them bewildered.

  “I’m sorry, they are in German. I can’t read them,” Zofia said.

  “They are Katja’s birth and christening papers from the home for the Lebensborn. It was called Steinhöring. It was in Munich. I wanted to tell you, because I am not well, and if I should die… Well, a day will come when she will want to know the truth. I am hoping, God willing, that you will be there to tell her.”

  Zofia folded the documents and handed them back to Christa

  “I will do my best for Katja, you know that. She is an innocent child. But you must not think about dying. You must try to get well.”

  “I am not going to get well, Zofia. It’s just a matter of time. It could be a week, or it could be five years. I don’t know. Nobody knows. For a long time my illness was under control. I almost believed I would live a long life…but then…” Again, Christa coughed. “Zofia, you have been very kind to me, and you don’t know how often I’ve felt terribly sorry that all of this happened with the Jews and the Nazis. However, there is one good thing that came from all of this. And, I suppose, I am selfish, but I am glad to have had the opportunity to know you. You are strong kind woman, and without you and your help, I don’t know what would have become of Katja and me.”

  “Thank you. It has been so long since I’ve felt appreciated in any way. And I know that all that is taking place here in the camp is not your fault.”

  “Oh Zofia, I feel so guilty. Not that there is anything I can do, but when I was younger I just didn’t realize. I never realized. I was excited by the music, the flags, the marching, and Hitler’s speeches. I had no idea. I am so ashamed. You have been my rock. You’ve held me when I was vomiting, and never asked for anything. In my heart, I believe that it is because you are a good person, not because you are a prisoner. To me you we
re never a prisoner. You have always been a friend.”

  Zofia smiled and moved the hair out of Christa’s eyes

  “Oh Zofia, there is so much you don’t know. So much I am forbidden to tell you.” Christa said. “When I adopted Katja I wanted a child more than anything. I was young and strong. And believe it or not, Manfred and I were very much in love. He wasn’t the same man he is today. You see, something happened, something terrible. He changed. He was seduced by the power of the Party. This man who I live with is not the man I married. And I suppose it was the death of that love that sucked the very life out of me.” Christa’s voice broke.

  Zofia cast her eyes down. She knew that Christa was crying.

  “You see, when I first met Manfred, I was a young girl. He was an important man in the Party. It impressed me so much. Of course, then, I didn’t know what it meant to be a Nazi. I had no idea. I was taken in by the glamour. You see Manfred worked for Goebbels at the time. And when I met him, he looked so handsome and important in his uniform. I was ignorant. I didn’t think about the Jews or anyone else. I only thought of the moment. Forgive me. Oh Zofia, forgive me. He took me to parties with all the top officials. I even met Hitler. Yes, it was all glitter in those days. But as they say, all that is glitters is not gold, and that, my friend, is true.” Christa stopped for a moment. She labored for breath to continue. “I knew nothing of the cruelty that the Nazis stood for. I suppose I could have known if I’d looked more deeply. But I didn’t want to know, I wanted to enjoy the good life. But my father, God rest his soul, he knew. I had no ill feelings towards Jews or anyone else. I suppose what I am trying to say, is that I am sorry, Zofia. I am sorry for how my people have treated you and yours.” She was sobbing.

  Zofia nodded.

  “Please, be there for my child. I know that I have not been able to do much to help you. But, I’ve done what I could. Katja loves you. She thinks of you as a mother. Manfred hardly has time for her, so once I am gone he will keep you here to care for her. Please care for her.”

  “I will. I do love her.” Zofia said.

  “I know you do, and that is why I am counting on you.”

  Zofia saw Christa’s struggle for a breath, how difficult and taxing it was for her to talk.