A Flicker of Light

by Roberta Kagan

  He lied about Greta. He had told himself this same thing for so long that the lie came easily to him now. “I lived with my father in Berlin when I received the news. Although the Nazis had put a curfew into effect, I didn’t pay much attention. The SS began arresting our neighbors.

  “My father would not have gone willingly, as some had. That much, I felt sure of. Finally, they took him by force while I worked with a sick child one afternoon. I came home to find him gone, the house ransacked. What possessions they did not take, they left flung about or broken. As you can well imagine, I felt angry and helpless when one of our neighbors confirmed what had I already suspected. My father had been forced into the Gestapo car, and this time, when the alarm sounded, it sounded for him. From that day on, I knew that they planned to take all of us, and in time, they would succeed.”

  “Take you where? To the camps?”

  “Yes, to the camps - some to work and some to die. They are gassing people in these camps and burning their bodies.” His handsome face was strong and serious as he explained the atrocities taking place in a world that Petra knew nothing about.

  “Petra,” Siegland’s voice drifted down from upstairs. “Petra, come please. Are you all right? The baby is sick. I don’t know what’s wrong. He has a red rash all over him, and he is very hot with fever.”

  “Yes, Mama. All right, I’m coming.”

  Unsure what to do, she turned to the man, annoyed, but unable to throw him out, “Stay here. I’ll bring you food, but for God’s sake, be quiet.”

  “Thank you, I am so grateful.” Shame stung his pride. His vulnerability and dependence sickened him. Never before had he begged for anything, and now here he stood at the mercy of this beautiful woman. In his other life, his life before the Nazis, he would never have allowed any woman to see him weak or helpless. He had believed that a man must be strong enough to take care of the woman. Now Hitler had altered everything.

  Distracted by Siegland’s announcement about Hans, Petra turned and ran up the stairs. Aaron sat in the corner of the dark cellar and stared at the trapdoor as she closed it. She could very well go to the authorities, but he doubted she would. Her eyes had glistened with kindness.

  Aaron had heard what the older woman said, and he felt fairly sure that the child had measles. But as always, the possibility of the dreaded typhoid was also there in his mind. Both presented with symptoms of rash and fever, but he could not make a definite diagnosis without seeing the child and its skin problem. His mind raced as he contemplated treatment. With no medicine available to him, he would have a difficult time. Every muscle in his body tightened. He walked back and forth across the room, lost in thought. In order to minister to the child, he must forgo the safety of the cellar. But dare he enter the house? What would the older woman say? Would she turn him in? Aaron paced like a confined animal, unable to decide what to do. He ran his fingers through his hair, brushing it back from his face. His thoughts went to the boy. Unsure if they had a doctor available, he thought that the child might die.

  All his life Aaron had faced grave circumstances head on, and he would do so now. With one swift movement, he climbed the stairs and pushed at the door only to find it locked. Scanning the room, he searched for something strong enough to break through, but saw nothing. With the side of his body he thrust harder, but the door held tight. Then he spotted something. He jumped down from the step and went over to investigate. Deep in the darkest corner of the cellar, covered in an array of spider webs, he saw an old rusted garden hoe. As he wiped the webs from the handle, a large red and black spider crept out and disappeared into a crack in the wall. Then he took the hoe, and driving it upward, he rammed the door. Aaron felt the lock break and the wood give way. Then, forcing the door open, he climbed out of the cellar and made his way to the house. Klaus had gone into town while the women stayed behind to look after the baby. When Aaron entered the nursery, Siegland screamed and Petra turned around. Immediately, they both looked at each other. Now, Petra found herself wondering, as did Siegland, if this man might be the murderer that the officers had come to tell them about.

  “Please, we will give you whatever you want. Just leave us in peace. Please don’t hurt the baby,” Siegland begged.

  “Ma’am, I’m sorry to startle you. My name is Aaron. I am not here to hurt anyone. I hid in your barn to escape from the Nazis because I am Jewish. I am a doctor, and I want to help the child. Please allow me to see him.”

  Shaking her head in fear, Siegland gripped little Hans tightly. “No go away. Please go.”

  Something in his eyes, although she could not have said just what, made Petra believe him. His dark, jade-green eyes mystified her with their intensity. When she looked deeper, she felt sure she detected an unmistakable humanity and compassion. He smiled at her, a careful smile, and as he did, his dimples made him appear young and vulnerable.

  “It’s all right, Mama, let him look at Hans. I trust him.” She decided that he could not be the criminal the Gestapo sought.

  “Petra, no - we don’t know this man. What if he is that killer that the police are looking for? What if he wants to kill us all?” Siegland asked, holding Hans tightly in her arms.

  “I don’t want to hurt anyone, I can assure you. But if you don’t let me see the boy, there is the possibility that he could die.”

  Petra nodded to Siegland, who reluctantly handed the child to Aaron. Carefully, he lay little Hans down on the bed. The infant burned with fever, and the red spots already covered his torso.

  “Do you have any alcohol?”

  “I think so, yes. I will get it for you,” Siegland said.

  Siegland’s brow wrinkled and she twisted the fabric of her apron as she waited for Petra to concur. Once Petra nodded in agreement, Siegland left quickly and returned in minutes with the alcohol.

  “Do you have a large tub or wash basin?”

  “Yes.”

  “Fill it with cool water and then add a small amount of the alcohol.” He rolled his shirt sleeves up revealing muscular sun-browned arms. He lifted the child gently with capable hands. He knew he must bring fever down as quickly as possible.

  As he undressed Hans, Aaron felt the clamminess of the infant’s skin, wet with sweat. His little body was burning, but his feet and hands had taken on a blue tinge and felt cold to the touch. Han wailed loudly, filling the room with his pitiful cries. Now Aaron could see the rash - red and angry - covering the child’s torso and spreading to his extremities. Aaron had seen this before, and he felt sure the diagnosis should be measles. Unfortunately, the baby could not be more than a few months old, which made him very vulnerable to the disease. Very young children had a much higher mortality rate, and without medication his treatment seemed a daunting task. Now that the cool bath had been prepared, Aaron checked the water. Satisfied, he carefully set the baby in the basin. With his left hand, Aaron cradled Hans’ head as he spoke softly to him, so the boy would not be alarmed. “Can you bring a wash cloth please?” Aaron asked as he turned to Petra.

  Petra went to the linen closet and returned with a clean white rag. Aaron wet the towel in the bath water, and then squeezed the water out over the little one’s body until the fever began to come down. As he bathed Hans’ face and head with an unhurried and tender motion, taking care to avoid his eyes, Aaron gained the child’s trust.

  “Measles are very contagious. Have either of you had them?” Aaron never turned from the baby while he questioned the women.

  “Yes, I had them as a little girl, and I think that Klaus, my husband, told me that he has had them too.”

  “I haven’t, at least not that I remember, and I have no way to ask my mother. I haven’t seen her since I left home.”

  “We’ll keep a watch on the boy, and if his fever rises again, we’ll repeat this.” Aaron tried to smile reassuringly at Petra with a confidence he did not feel.

  “Do you have any sugar?” If Petra disclosed to Aaron that they had a store of sugar, it would be like admis
sion to black market trading, but she must know that he had some idea of this already, after what he had seen in the cellar. He hoped that her love for the boy would win out, and she would come up with the sugar if they had any.

  Surprisingly, without hesitation, Siegland responded, “I have it. I will get you some.”

  “Actually, please fill a baby bottle with cool, but not cold water, and add about three tablespoons of sugar. Then shake it and bring it to me.”

  Nodding, Siegland went to the kitchen to fulfill Aaron’s request.

  Aaron held the baby, patting his back soothingly. Before Hans’ birth, Klaus had purchased a baby bottle in case Petra’s milk did not come in. However, Hans had never needed it until now, and he had no idea what to do. Aaron rubbed his finger in a circular motion over the baby’s cheek in an effort to induce suckling. With patience, he continued, waiting for the child to respond. Finally, after several tedious minutes, and to everyone’s relief, Hans’ tiny mouth grabbed on to the nipple and he began to ingest the sugar water.

  “He’ll need to keep on drinking this so he doesn’t dehydrate.”

  Siegland nodded as Petra looked on, worry plainly visible in her eyes.

  At three o’clock that afternoon, Klaus returned. Working intently on bathing Hans because his fever had risen again, Petra and Aaron did not hear Klaus enter the house. But when Siegland heard her husband moving about in the kitchen before the others even realized he’d arrived, she left the room to tell him about Aaron.

  “Klaus.”

  His face broke into a grin as walked over and planted his customary kiss on Siegland’s round and full cheek. He marveled at the blessings this wonderful marriage brought him daily. They enjoyed the same things and she understood his moods and his needs.

  “Klaus, there is a problem here. Listen, Hans, he is very sick. We have a doctor working on him.”

  “A doctor! What is it? What’s wrong?”

  “He’s running a high fever with a rash, too. I don’t know. The doctor says measles maybe.”

  “How did you ever get a doctor to come out here?”

  “Klaus, listen. I don’t know how I will tell you this. He is a Jew. He was hiding in our cellar. When Petra went down to take the onions, he was already there. I didn’t know about it, so I went to get little Hans because he was crying. When I saw how sick the baby was, I am called down to Petra. She came back to the house, running. First she came, and then, a little bit later, he came too.”

  “Oh, no. He must go right away. We should report him to the authorities. We can’t afford any trouble. With the girl here illegally and the food we have been hiding and trading on the black market, Siegland, do you realize what could happen? I could not stand to think of what they would do to us if they thought we harbored a Jew. Oh, dear God, not to mention the radio. He must go immediately. What if he is that murderer that the SS is talking about, the one that is loose here in this area?” Unable to move, he stood looking intently at her. Klaus’ face had turned red and blotchy, and sweat beaded on his forehead and around his thick neck. “He must go now, right now.”

  “No Klaus, he has to help the baby. If he goes, Hans will surely die.”

  “We will get another doctor.”

  “Where, Klaus? No one will come. You know that. He must stay. We must hide him until the child is well.”

  “Siegland, this is crazy talk. This is death for sure, much worse than the onions or the radio. This is a Jew. Do you have any idea what they do to people who hide Jews?”

  “I don’t care. I don’t want to know. We must do this for Hans.”

  “I refuse. Get him out of here.”

  “I will not. If you report him, I will never speak to you again.”

  “Siegland, be reasonable. Think what you’re doing.”

  “I mean it, Klaus.”

  His head drooped and he shook it from side to side in defeat. Fear tightened his chest, and he walked to the chair and sat down. “I think this is a mistake. It could be a very bad one. But, Siegland, I will do as you wish. I hope we don’t live to regret this.”

  “Now that it’s settled, would you like something to eat?” She walked over to stand behind him and rub his neck.

  That entire night the baby burned with fever. Petra and Aaron worked together to keep him cool and hydrated. On occasion, Aaron looked up and caught sight of the glow of light and love in Petra’s eyes as she looked at her child. The overwhelming devotion of motherhood never ceased to bewilder him. His time with his own mother had been so brief that women in general, and especially the love of mothers, were a great mystery to him. As he studied her he thought that her eyes matched the blue of the sky on a summer morning, and her high cheekbones and full lips made her look like a painting he had once seen of the Madonna. Petra caught him gazing at her. Seeing the glow in his eyes brought a smile to her lips.

  Hans did not sleep until the following afternoon, until finally exhaustion claimed him. Relieved to see the baby relax, Petra looked at Aaron as the two sat beside the crib.

  “Get some rest. I will stay up with him,” Aaron assured her as he covered Hans with his blanket.

  “I can’t. I couldn’t sleep. He is all I have in the world.” Her hair had fallen out of the neat bun that she usually wore and hung in soft golden curls like an angel’s halo about her troubled face.

  “Take a pillow and lie down here on the floor if you’re not comfortable going to your bed.” Aaron removed the pillow on the rocking chair beside the crib and laid it on the floor. Grateful, Petra lay down. Her body ached with worry and exhaustion, but in only a few minutes sleep overtook her. Earlier Aaron had spied a linen closet right across from the baby’s room. He walked over to it and retrieved a blanket from the shelf. Tenderly, he covered Petra and sat down to quietly watch over them both. Without having slept himself, Aaron felt very tired, but he mustered all of his strength to stay awake, reminding himself that he had endured harder things. Now he would do whatever he could to preserve this child whose young life depended upon him.

  Siegland brought Aaron food. He thanked her with sincere gratitude. It had been a long time since he’d eaten a full meal. As Siegland looked on at her two precious children fast asleep, she found herself thankful for Aaron, the Jewish doctor, no matter who he happened to be.

  Chapter 21

  N

  ight always seemed to increase the severity of fever and illness. The baby awakened with a loud and pitiful wail. His fever had gone back up, and now he required another alcohol bath. Hans’ painful cries woke Petra, and she sat up and watched this strange and remarkable man as he cared for her infant as if it were his own. She wondered how a Jew who had endured so much hatred and anti-Semitism could be so loving and kind to a little one in a German home.

  “I don’t even know your name. I can’t even properly thank you,” Petra said.

  “My name is Aaron Gold, and you are?”

  “Petra Jorgensen.”

  “You are not German?”

  “No, I am not, but my Hans’ father was born in Munich served in the Werhmact. He was stationed at the Russian front. He’s dead. He died in battle,”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “He wasn’t a real Nazi, you know, not like these others.”

  “That’s what they all say. When you’re a Jew, it’s hard to make much of a distinction,” he smiled wryly.

  “I have never met a Jew before, at least not that I know of.”

  “Oh, I’m sure you have. You just didn’t realize it.”

  “Perhaps, but you are so kind and so good.”

  “I’m a doctor. It’s my job to be kind and good,” Aaron laughed out loud.

  “You’re so young. How long have you been practicing medicine?”

  “Well, I have been practicing under the direction of another doctor for many years, but I never finished my schooling. I would have, but they outlawed Jews from attending the university, and they kicked me out.”

  “That’s terrible. What
did you do?”

  “I left. There wasn’t much I could do - one man against a world gone mad.” He picked up the towel, and removing Hans from the bath, wrapped the baby in the towel.

  “I lost my job. They took my father to a camp, so I decided to hide out and live off the land. I’ve been traveling through the countryside ever since.”

  “And your mother?”

  “She died a long time ago; I was just a child. I’m glad she didn’t have to go through this.”

  For a while Petra just hung her head. “The police came to tell us something about a murderer on the loose around here, but I don’t believe you could have anything to do with that.”

  “I can’t lie to you. I did, but it isn’t what you think. I’d taken refuge in a barn. They didn’t see me watching them, but these two boys in Hitler Youth uniforms attacked a mentally retarded girl. I guess she probably lived on the farm. Her screams of terror ripped my heart out. The boys started to rape her. I couldn’t just stand by and let it happen. And I realized if I didn’t kill them, there would be a witness to identify me. So I picked up an axe, the only weapon I could find. At first I couldn’t do it, so I tried to scare them off, but one of them came at me. So I struck him. I guess he died. The other one ran away. For some reason I could not pursue him. It bothers me to think I caused anyone’s death, but I could not stand by and watch them do what they were trying to do. I would kill him again to prevent it.”

  Petra stayed silent for a moment as she studied his face. She could find no trace of deception there. His sincerity shone through his emerald green eyes as they glowed with warmth. She believed him. He had only acted humanely. “I don’t blame you. You did the right thing.” Suddenly self conscious, Petra stood up. “I’ll go and get another bottle of sugar water for Hans.”

  “Good idea.”

  The harvest time approached quickly, and Klaus began to worry about the workers who would come from the camp, along with their SS escort. He feared they would see or hear Aaron and find out that the Bruchmeiers harbored a Jew.