Frieda met Braus’s demands with a heavy heart. She never told him that Taavi was not with her. Months passed and Braus never suspected that Taavi had been gone the entire time.
As far as Braus knew, Frieda had hidden the Jew somewhere under a floor like the rat that he was, but Braus wasn’t complaining. She continued to pay him, and he was enjoying the padding on his income. He hadn’t mentioned sex to her yet, but he was considering it. If it wasn’t so profitable for him to let that woman keep the Jew alive, it would have given him great pleasure to turn that handsome Jew in to the Gestapo. Braus was jealous of Taavi, and so the very idea of Taavi suffering to pay the price for his escape had become a sweet daydream for Braus. But Braus had to admit that turning Taavi in was far too self-defeating for him to indulge his fantasy. The extra cash made his life a lot easier. He was able to purchase better food and beer. And … if the party wasn’t going to promote him, he would find a way to promote himself.
Chapter 25
Taavi
Alone in the forest for several months without human contact gave Taavi a great deal of time to think. He rehashed his life and the mistakes he’d made. All the wasted time he’d spent away from Michal, and all out of pride. It was true that he’d been raised without the love of a mother, and so when he and Michal had first gotten married he had not known how to love her. He’d been insecure and afraid to show his true feelings. In their early years together, Taavi had been far too quick to anger. When Michal had rejected him physically because she was still traumatized by the day she’d been raped by that Cossack, he’d tried to understand, but it was almost impossible for him. He was young then and they were newly married. Taavi had waited until they were wed, and once they were, he’d wanted to make love to her so badly. Every time she pushed him away, his anger grew like a volcano until he exploded and left. What a fool he’d been. If only somehow he could retrieve those lost years that he and Michal spent apart, he would have been more patient, more loving. Now she was lost to him and he had no idea what to do to find her. Lotti had recommended that he stay hidden. But how could he do that without doing what he could to help his family. He could not hide like a child to save himself. There had to be something he could do.
Taavi walked through the woods. The sweet fragrance of nature filled his nostrils, and because he’d endured the noxious odors of the camp, the clean air was even sweeter and very precious to him. If he lived a thousand years he would never forget the smells of that camp. Finally, one afternoon, he was deep in the woods. As he sat with his back against a tree, he thought once again of the only person he knew who could help him find his family, Frieda. But hadn’t she done enough for him already? How could he expect her to help him find his wife when he knew that Frieda was in love with him? To even try to find Michal, Frieda would have to put herself in grave danger. Taavi put his head in his hands. He cared for Frieda. She was a good friend and he was grateful for all she’d done for him. But right at that very moment, Michal might be suffering in some prison camp the way he had been. Just the thought of that possibility was unbearable to him. It made him want to panic, to do something, anything, quickly. Think, Taavi. He knew he could not ask Frieda to take such a terrible risk without giving her something in return. But what did he have to give? He was a penniless Jew, hiding like a frightened animal. All he had was himself and although he could never give her his heart, and although the very idea made him uncomfortable, he would give her his body. All he could hope for was that it would be enough. He cringed with shame when he remembered the perversions they had engaged in during their affair.
It had been a time in his life he would have gladly put behind him. A box filled with sins he would have gladly sealed forever and buried in the recesses of his mind. But now, this was all he could offer … all he could offer. And he would give anything, even his own life, to save his family.
Chapter 26
Michal
It was while the prisoners were eating that Miriam went into labor. Michal heard a low moan and something inside of her told her to look for Miriam. The sound was familiar to her. Michal had heard many women in labor moan the very same way. She’d hoped that it would happen at night, but, it came as no surprise, she’d been expecting this. She glanced to her left and did not see Miriam, then she looked right and saw Miriam was sitting on a rock, doubled over with pain. Michal’s eyes darted through the crowd until she found Heida. She stared at Heida until Heida turned to look at her. Michal was sure Heida felt the weight of Michal’s eyes upon her and looked up. Then Michal motioned with her head for Heida to look at Miriam. Heida nodded and Michal knew that she acknowledged what Michal was trying to tell her. The prisoners were not given much time to consume their meal. Michal choked down her food. They had a full day’s work ahead of them. How would Miriam ever get through the grueling work day while she was in labor? Michal knew that no matter what, the guards would have no sympathy for the young Jewish girl. And Michal knew that if the baby decided to come, it would come no matter where Miriam was or what she was doing. Michal bit her lower lip. How was she ever going to pull this off? Even if Miriam could by some miracle wait until nightfall, and even if everything went perfectly with the birth, and the mother and child were healthy, how were they going to keep a baby a secret from the guards? Babies cried, and the guards would hear the cries. Like wolves waiting to kill a little lamb. Just the thought of what they might do to the child and the mother gave Michal a chill. She’d heard horror stories that had spread amongst the prisoners of the cruelty of the guards towards pregnant women. And from what she’d experienced and seen since she’d arrived at Ravensbruck, she didn’t doubt a word. Michal let her eyes dart quickly to the two guards who were talking while they kept an eye on the prisoners. Then Michal said a silent prayer for the pregnant girl.
At least it was autumn and not winter. If it had been winter, Michal had no doubt that Miriam would die. The conditions in winter in the camp were so brutal.
When she was younger, before she’d ever known of Nazis and concentration camps, Michal had loved fall. She’d loved the crisp air. Winters had been hard in Russia. It was bitter cold, even colder than Germany, and that made everything that had to be done more difficult. But nothing Michal had ever experienced could compare to the misery of winter in Ravensbruck. The guards made sure of it. Even now as she felt the brisk autumn wind, instead of feeling alive, all she could think of was that this was the beginning of another winter in Hell.
A few days earlier, one of the women that Michal did not know but had seen around the camp had gone into some kind of a fit during roll call. She fell and began rolling around on the ground. A flash of fear came over the guard’s face. “Get up,” the guard yelled at the prisoner, sounding very stern. But the woman continued to shake on the ground. “Get up, I said.”
Michal watched the guard and realized how scared she was that she was losing control of the woman in front of the others.
Another prisoner tried to help the woman get up, but the guard told her to get back in line. Still the prisoner writhed on the ground, twisting and turning in all directions and making terrible choking sounds. The guard pulled her gun and shot the woman. The sound of the gunshot pierced the morning, and Michal felt dizzy as if she might faint. But she dared not. Breathe deeply, she told herself. Keep breathing and for God sake don’t look at the dead woman or the massive pool of blood around her.
Then as if none of this had happened, the inmates were lined up at gunpoint and marched to their sewing machines. Michal stole occasional glances at Miriam, who seemed to be holding up but barely. Her face was lined with pain and she held her small rounded belly, but she marched with the others. From what Michal could determine by watching Miriam, she decided that the labor pains were about thirty minutes apart. If only she could do something to lighten Miriam’s load at least for the day, she would have. But there was no way to protect the young girl. And the worst of it was that the woman who had been made the blockova for the Je
wish women (a prisoner who was given special treatment for keeping the other prisoners in line) was put into Ravensbruck for committing illegal abortions. Her name was Marianne, and because she’d had so much experience with female reproduction, Michal was afraid that Marianne would recognize the symptoms and know that Miriam was pregnant and that she had gone into labor. If it hadn’t been for the lack of food, which kept Miriam from growing a larger belly, Michal was sure that Marianne would have seen the evidence of pregnancy long before today. But, because Miriam was so slight of build, and starving, she showed no visible signs.
Michal watched Miriam and shuddered. She knew of women who’d come to the camp pregnant and had given birth. These poor mothers were forced to abandon their children at the Kinderzimmer, where the tiny infants were left to die of starvation or be eaten by rats. She couldn’t help but think of the days that each of her daughters had been born. She’d been so happy. How would she have ever survived leaving Alina or Gilde to die in the Kinderzimmer? “Oh God, help this girl, please in your mercy find a way to prevent her from suffering a fate worse than death. Please, I beg you, don’t let her be forced to watch her baby die.” Michal said. Then she whispered a Hebrew prayer under her breath.
Today, like many days, when they were not sewing, the women were told to shovel heavy loads of sand. Michal’s arms and legs ached and swelled as they did every day, but even in pain, she kept a watch on Miriam. There were no clocks. The only way to determine the time of day was to watch the sun. From what Michal gathered by looking at the sky, it was about four o’clock in the afternoon when Miriam’s water broke. She didn’t know if anyone else saw the trickle of liquid run down Miriam’s leg. And since many times the prisoners urinated on themselves rather than risk angering a guard by asking to be allowed to step away from the crowd to relieve themselves, Miriam could have urinated. It was possible. After all, being very pregnant and ready to give birth, the baby would be lying on her bladder. But still, Michal thought that Miriam’s water had probably broken. A dry birth made matters even worse. From where she stood, Michal could not see the color of the water that was running down Miriam’s leg. The color would tell her if the baby had a bowel movement. If it had while it was still in the womb, then the child was in distress. Michal felt helpless. She wished that she could step out of line and go to Miriam. But of course, that was impossible. All she could do was watch in horror as the situation began to unfold right before her eyes.
As time passed there was no denying that Miriam needed help. She began to double over, unable to stand up. Finally she crumbled down into a sitting position with her hand cradling her belly.
When the guards weren’t looking, one of the other women pulled Miriam to her feet. “Don’t let them see you sitting,” the woman said. But Miriam was so thin, weak, and in pain that she fell back down again.
The guard turned just in time to see the prisoner helping Miriam. “What’s going on over there? Get back to work, both of you. This minute. I won’t tolerate your laziness.”
The prisoner who’d been trying to help Miriam did as the guard demanded and left Miriam’s side. As she walked back into the shoveling line, her eyes were cast down on the ground.
Miriam forced herself to stand, holding on to a rock to pull herself up. Her legs wobbled, and it seemed that at any minute they would no longer have the strength to hold her. Michal watched, but she could do nothing to help. Nothing at all without risking her own life. And she couldn’t find the courage to do that. Tears came to her eyes. This situation, Michal knew, could not have a good ending.
“Work, I said. What’s the matter with you?” The guard was clearly angry at being defied. She was standing very close to Miriam and yelling in Miriam’s face.
Miriam gagged and began to dry heave. Michal watched. From where she stood it looked like Miriam was unable to stop. She leaned over and kept gagging. Then she vomited, but only bile spewed onto the sand. Michal felt herself gagging too. Please spare this child. She prayed silently, thinking all the time of Alina.
“She’s sick,” the guard said. The other women gathered around, and it was plain to see that the guard felt she was losing control of the prisoners. Michal knew that the Nazis always got meaner when they feared that they looked weak. The guard was clearly agitated, trying desperately to show her dominance over the prisoners. “Get back to work right now, all of you, or I swear I will shoot every single one of you.” The guard pulled her gun and shot into the air. The sound shook the women back to reality and they hurried to lift their shovels. There was a look of fear on the guard’s face. It seemed that it was the first time the guard realized that the shovels in the prisoners hands could be used as weapons, and that there were more prisoners than there were guards. Any possible drop of compassion the guard might have shown towards Miriam was gone. It would be easy for these women to interpret compassion as weakness. Any show of fear or sympathy, the guard thought, and the inmates would close in for the kill. She had to stay in command no matter what happened or there could easily be an uprising. Inside she did feel a bit sorry for the girl, who looked so young, sick, and vulnerable. But, not sorry enough to let the rest of them think she was a pushover. That must never happen.
From where she stood, Michal could see the Nazi’s hand was trembling as she pointed the gun at Miriam and pulled the trigger. Miriam was still standing with a look of shock on her face as she raised her upper arm where the bullet had entered..
The sound had been deafening in the quiet afternoon. Michal gasped. Then the guard shot Miriam again, this time in the belly. Miriam tumbled soundlessly to the ground in a heap like a rag doll. Miriam’s eyes were wide open, and from where Michal stood, she could see the horror and disbelief reflecting back at her. From that day on, she often had dreams of Miriam’s eyes. Dreams where she was glued to the ground, and although she tried to move to help Miriam she was paralyzed. Sometimes in her nightmares, Miriam’s face would change and she would become Alina or Gilde. On those terrible nights, Michal would awaken sobbing. The women who slept beside her on the long wooden boards that served as beds were so close that she could smell their breath. She tried to stifle her crying so as not to wake them up, but it wouldn’t have mattered. They’d all grown used to hearing each other’s snoring, coughing, and sobbing during the night.
Chapter 27
Michal
Thank God for Heida. Heida’s unbelievable strength pulled Michal out of the depths of her depression, once again. Miriam’s death had pushed Michal to the edge of a breakdown, but whenever they had a moment to talk, Heida offered comfort and words of wisdom.
“Miriam is better off. It’s cruel to say such a thing, but how terrible would it have been if the guards had killed her child in front of her? She is dead now. She doesn’t suffer anymore. If you want to survive, you have to put these things out of your mind. Believe me, Michal, this war will end. And the time will come when you will see your family again. But that can only happen if you live. In order to live through this, you can’t look at what is happening around you. You have to find a way not to see it. Instead try to think about the good times you had before the Nazis came to power. Be very careful not to let yourself wallow in the horror of what you saw happen to Miriam or any of the other terrible things surrounding us. If you do, you will lose the will to live, and when that happens, you’re finished.”
“She is better off, Heida. I know you are right. But I can’t help but think that she was just a child.”
Heida nodded. “Better to die than to suffer such a terrible thing as having to witness the death of her child. And if she lived, the baby would have made her so vulnerable. They would have hurt the baby, and that would have been worse for her than death.”
“You are a lesbian, no?”
“Yes,” Heida said.
“So you have no children; how do you know that this is how it is to be a mother?”
“Because I did have a child. Once, long ago.”
Michal touched Heida
’s shoulder. “What happened?”
“He was kidnapped and murdered. His body was found. But the criminal was never caught. My husband blamed me. I wasn’t watching him. I allowed him to go and play at one of his friends’ houses. He never returned.”
“Oh, Heida. You always seem so strong. I had no idea you’d been through so much.”
“Yes, well … haven’t we all suffered?” Heida patted Michal’s arm.
Chapter 28
Alina
The slice that had begun as a small cut in the flesh of Johan’s arm now swelled and festered with pus. It threw off a strong odor of infection that made Alina feel both terrified for Johan and sick to her stomach. She had no medical background. She’d done paperwork for the doctor she’d worked for and on a few occasions she’d assisted him by bringing him this or that, but she had no formal training. Then she remembered her father saying that alcohol was good to clean an infected wound. Plenty of the passengers had brought bottles with them and they drank, but after she’d asked for the man to wet her cloth with whiskey when Johan was injured, she hadn’t had the nerve to ask anyone again. Finally, when she was beside herself with worry, she went to a man who she noticed had a bottle of vodka that he’d been nursing for several days. Alina walked over to the man, and in the sweetest voice she could muster she begged him to pour just a small smidgen of the liquid on a piece of cloth so she could use it to clean Johan’s wound. The passenger was reluctant to share his vodka at first. But when he saw the tears in Alina’s eyes, he gave in and did as she asked. He wet the cloth and wished her luck with Johan. She had grown into a soft, dark, delicate beauty much like her mother. To strong and confident men, Alina seemed fragile, like a newborn kitten they wanted to protect and nurture. This stranger was exactly that type of male. He was a tall, robust man who didn’t seem at all weakened by seasickness or fear of leaving home and going to a foreign land. She addressed him in German, and he answered her in German with a Russian accent. Alina recognized that accent because it sounded just like her father. Alina had noticed that other men on board had eyed this Russian’s bottle of vodka, but none had dared to try to steal it. Alina had seen him many times during the voyage. He was always alone. She decided that he was a loner. From what she gathered, he’d boarded the ship by himself without any friends or family, and he’d made no attempt to make any friends during the trip. Alina remembered early on in the voyage there had been an incident where one of the others, a boy of about eighteen, had called this Russian a dirty Jew. He’d ignored the insult. But it turned out that the younger man was the ringleader of three other boys who felt powerful enough in a gang of four against one to try to intimidate the big man into sharing his liquor. The bullies kept at him like a child who continues to pick at the scab on a sore, until the Russian had finally had enough. Alina remembered watching as the Russian had slowly gotten up from his bunk and took on all four of the boys with his bare fists until they all lay bleeding from their faces on the ground. Then he sat back down and began drinking again. From that day on, no one talked to or bothered the Russian again. And Alina would not have ever gone near him if she were not so scared that if she didn’t clean and dress Johan’s wound he might die.
A Family Shattered: Book Two in the Michal's Destiny Series Page 13