Guesthouse for Ganesha

by Judith Teitelman

  “It explains why there are few facts about your life before here that you’ve been willing to share. It explains why you are so secretive. And it explains why, even when we are willing to help, you won’t let any of us take that strange son of yours to the toilet!

  “And being Jewish is, no doubt, the reason Hannis does not act normal nor could possibly be normal. That would explain why he is such a freakish child. Not acting like a real two-year-old at all. Everyone knows that Jews are inbreeds, after all.”

  Three weeks had passed since Ida, unannounced, had walked in on Esther as she sat entranced with memories, gently caressing Bubbe Royza’s kiddush cup.

  Three weeks in which Ida had waited with barely a shred of patience, observing Esther’s every action more closely than usual.

  Three weeks that consumed Ida as she considered all she had witnessed since Etta and Hannis had arrived in this house. Details reviewed over and over in her head, pondering their probable meaning.

  Three weeks filled with her struggle during each waking hour to understand the concealed truth behind Esther’s cursory answers to questions. Endeavoring to decipher the pieces of this puzzle that had irked her for the more than one year that they had shared a roof and most every meal.

  And while she had tried, repeatedly, at different hours of the day, Ida was not able to intercept Esther taking Zami to the bathroom or to “accidentally” walk in on them while inside. Of the two bathrooms in the house, only one had a lock, and Esther was careful to use that one when she took Zami in for his evening bath or to use the toilet.

  It was during this time that Ida considered probable options and likely scenarios to explain why this woman had, essentially, appeared out of nowhere and come through their front door.

  Not long after Esther and Zami had first arrived, Ida had considered that she could, in fact, be a Jew, escaping what would be a dangerous situation in Germany. But after much reflection, she had concluded this could not be possible, since Etta and Hannis were both light haired and light eyed. They had German features—Aryan features—and Esther spoke the language flawlessly.

  How can a German-looking person be Jewish? she had reasoned. Those parasites are neither capable nor educated enough to learn a second language, such as I myself have done. And, as much as I can tell, Etta is knowledgeable about Catholicism and church etiquette. A Jew could not likely have learned that; those people are Christ-killers!

  What had chiefly dissuaded Ida was the impossibility that this woman could have such immense talent, such exceptional skills with needle and thread, and be a Jew. This was not conceivable.

  Jews were barbaric, uncouth. Everyone knew that.

  Without question … the motivation … the veritable impetus … right from the onset … has been one of jealousy and resentment.

  This … the most simple explanation for feuds and wars of a much larger scale.

  Now these thoughts were pushed aside. Anomalies do exist in all situations, no doubt even with those Jewish people, Ida reasoned. She was clear this was the explanation—the obvious explanation—and this sham must be exposed.

  So, on this particular Monday, Ida cornered Esther in the narrow pantry off the kitchen when she came down to make her habitual afternoon cup of tea. The pantry was in a remote part of the house, and at this time of day, Ida was assured they would be alone.

  She repeated her accusation, “You’re a Jew!”

  Esther did not flinch, her face skillfully devoid of expression. Since the day Ida had come into her room, she had anticipated a confrontation. She was primed. Outwardly, she scoffed and with shrugging shoulders said, “Ida, Sie sagen die merkwürdigsten Sachen! You do say the strangest things! How in the world did you come up with such an idea? You have been distrustful and suspicious of me since Hannis and I arrived in this house. And,” Esther underscored, “I believe, beyond question, you have been envious of my far superior sewing skills that secured work with the best textile mill in Leiden.

  “Da! Ich habe es gesagt! I’ve said it! It is now out in the open.

  “Finally! You must stop this nonsense immediately and leave me alone!”

  Inwardly, Esther’s mind raced.

  Verdammt, Ida! she thought. Now what do I do? Where can I go? From the look on your face I see you are confounded. Perhaps I’ve bought myself a bit of time, but my distrust of you runs deeper and wider than the Rhein!

  Esther had hoped to live out the duration of this senseless war in the relative peace and obscurity of out-of-the-way Leiden. It was mostly comfortable. They were settled. Nadine and Ans were kind and generous, and she had no trouble earning a living and paying her way. While saving a substantial amount of money.

  A rare and blessed cloak of security … in this most insecure of times.

  Money! That is it. Perhaps I should offer Ida money to keep her quiet?

  Esther quickly shoved the idea out of her head.

  Such a proposition would only bring tribulation. I have no doubt, after acquiring a goodly amount of cash, Ida would, in due course, inform the authorities. There is a German-imposed civil government now in charge, and citizens are rewarded for turning in enemies of the state and helping maintain racial purity. Just as in Germany.

  The war and its effects were never broached in the house, in any case not without Nadine’s rebuke, and Esther did not engage in conversations with others on her way to and from the textile mill. Nonetheless, it was impossible not to observe the city’s pervasive atmosphere. Public protests, which just a few months ago had occurred on at least a weekly basis, had all but disappeared; people’s voices had been suppressed with severe reprisals. Just as they had in Köln and Wuppertal. Reactions were secreted, like Nadine’s associates doing their best to engage in covert actions of sabotage or aiding victims, such as herself, to escape or hide.

  In this zeitgeist, Ida would be heralded a heroic woman. For her, that would be more important than cash. A pronouncement would also bring serious trouble to Nadine, and this Esther would not abide. Not after everything Nadine had done for her and Zami.

  While Esther’s thoughts moved like lightning, her face remained blank of emotion, with no effort.

  She merely said, “Und jetzt—and now—if you will excuse me, I will get myself a cup of tea, which is why I came down here.”

  With that, Esther picked up her cup and a pouch of tea and turned her back on Ida. She shook her head in what would appear to be disgust and walked into the kitchen to heat up the kettle.

  Ida was stunned. Not a flicker of fear had crossed Esther’s face. Ida had been positive. She was certain. But then again—perhaps she had made a mistake? Was that conceivable? And there was no greater insult than what Ida had accused.

  Ah … what is certainty … after all? Particularly when it can lead one in a direction … one should not venture.

  At the first opportunity, when the house was empty of its occupants, when Sacha was teaching at school and Ida had left to meet a client at the other end of Leiden and Ans had taken Zami to the park, Esther approached Nadine. She was working in the garden, planting her tulip bulbs—pointed side up, twenty centimeters into the earth and ten centimeters apart—before the winter’s first frost was upon them. This year Nadine had chosen a healing violet in hope for a calmer year ahead.

  Esther knelt down beside her and said under her breath, softly but emphatically, “Ich muss gehen. I must leave. Ida has revealed her suspicions, and while I believe I was able to dissuade her, it is only a matter of time before she acts upon them.”

  Esther continued on to relay the precise conversation that had passed between them.

  Nadine’s face pinched in anger. She had long dreaded the arrival of such a day.

  “I have had concerns this would happen,” she said.

  “Ida is selfish and childish in her jealousy of you. Und sie ist richtig gemein. And she is plain mean. So very mean,” Nadine continued.

  “Bitte. Don’t do anything yet. Continue your days as thou
gh nothing has changed. On Tuesday at my meeting, I will bring this situation up, and we will devise a strategy for your safe departure. You have no need to worry. We will devise a plan.

  “You are correct in regard to Ida. Before too long, she will go to the authorities, and then we would all be in trouble. Sehr großen Ärger. Very serious trouble.”

  Nadine turned back to her planting. She stabbed the dirt while muttering, “I should have gotten red bulbs, dark red bulbs. Of zwart. Dat zou al veel meer fitting. Or black. Those would have been much more fitting.”

  It took fourteen days of daily meetings of brainstorming and conspiring and strategizing to devise a workable plan for Esther and Zami. In November 1941, traversing the terrain of Europe was complicated and dangerous. Debates, sometimes heated, took place among the members about the most logical and viable routes.

  The critical destination was unquestioned.

  Switzerland …

  I whispered as loudly as I could without revealing face and form.

  Swit—zer—land …

  I enunciated each syllable.

  Esther and Zami must go to Switzerland.

  But how to get there? the members queried.

  After perusing myriad road, train, and topographic maps, listening closely to the shortwave radio’s updates on combat activities and other relevant news, analyzing train schedules, and speaking to associates at the few instances when the phone lines did connect, it was determined Esther must first travel to Paris. All members agreed upon this conclusion decisively. Jacco and Ralf had both traveled to this city in the past eight months, and their contacts could be trusted. Within the boundaries of Paris were concealed more powerful and better-informed groups of Resistance members than elsewhere. They were mostly communists but were effective in their efforts and, more significantly, in their results. They had resources and reliable connections for successfully leading people over the Alps into Switzerland, which at the present time was still neutral territory for Jews.

  “Nou, luister—Now, listen—I am certain she must travel by train,” Jacco said. “This type of transportation is the appropriate choice. It will be the safest. We do know many trains are still operating. The schedules, no doubt, will change daily, if not hourly, but in the end it is the most likely system to be consistent with whatever route we figure out. Of course we know it is all a guessing game. At the very least, this is an educated guess.”

  “I must concur,” said Nadine, with everyone in the room nodding their agreement.

  “With her Aryan features, Esther is sure to pass without suspicions,” she continued. “Or perhaps—it is more her countenance and bearing and that unshakable stoicism than her actual facial appearance that make this possible. She has een taaiheid—a toughness—I have not seen in another human being. It is astonishing really. And we must not discount her flawless command of the German language—so much better than mine! Most important of all, I’m sure we can agree, are her impressive, authentic-appearing documents. She could not be better positioned. I am sure Esther will be among the lucky ones.”

  “I don’t think we can be confident about anything right now,” Jacco said. “But I haven’t lost hope. Otherwise I couldn’t still be doing this.”

  “She must purchase a first-class ticket,” Renate chimed in.

  “That is throwing away her money,” said Ralf. “We don’t know how long she’ll have to stay in Paris or if she’ll be able to work while she’s there. She’s going to have to keep as much money as she can for all the unknowns she’s sure to encounter.”

  “But we must get her to Paris—safely!” Renate said emphatically. “Otherwise this whole discussion is a complete waste of time. The officials in first class will be less suspicious. For who can imagine a Jewish person in these times would have the kind of money necessary to buy the ticket—or any money for that matter! And Nadine,” she added, turning to look at her straight on, “you said this woman has worked all these months at the textile mill. She must have quite a large sum saved, no?”

  “Yes, this is true,” Nadine said. “Purchasing a first-class ticket will not be a problem, and it’s the right thing to do. I believe your assumptions are correct.”

  Understanding the logic of it, the others agreed, and planning moved forward.

  The selected itinerary—Leiden to Rotterdam to Brussels to Lille, then Paris—directed Esther to change trains four times. Not the easiest or most comfortable of situations, particularly with a small child. It would have been more ideal to bypass Brussels, but the April pogrom in Antwerpen had made that a city on the warpath, with the situation unstable.

  It was understood the most precarious part of the journey would be traveling through occupied Belgium.

  But let us not forget as before … as always … I journey with her …

  Arrangements were made. Contacts secured. Times and meeting places confirmed. Tickets purchased—with Esther’s abundance of cash. Nearly all of her Dutch guilders were exchanged for French francs.

  While life and future were being decided for her—that was the way it felt—Esther went about her work and other responsibilities as though nothing had changed. For so long, going on eighteen years, she had grown accustomed to being fully in charge, independent and self-contained. This crucial need to rely on others was painful to the very fiber of her being. Or at least to the being she had become.

  Her ability to trust was gone. But she recognized that, at this time and at this place and in these circumstances, she was fortunate to have such aid fall into place, almost effortlessly.

  Someday … she will know … and she will … understand …

  Ida continued to view Esther with suspicion and cynicism; still, it was easy to ignore her. Esther knew her reaction to Ida’s accusation had confounded this malicious woman. At the least, it had procured the necessary time to put plans into action.

  Departure was arranged for a late Wednesday morning. The second week of October. During that window of time and that day of the week, Nadine was assured Sacha would be teaching, Ans would be in school, and Ida with a client. Also, her nearest neighbors would be at work. One of Nadine’s associates who owned a car would drive Esther and Zami to the station.

  The 11:15 train would take them to Rotterdam. There was also a train leaving for Amsterdam at 11:40 and one for Düsseldorf scheduled to depart at 12:05. In the event Ida did try and investigate what direction they were heading toward, Leiden Centraal would be busy that morning. Attempting to trace someone’s path would be complicated, and surely Ida did not have the necessary patience. Nadine had a ready story that might not convince Ida of an erroneous denouncement, yet it was neatly structured and would answer basic questions of why and where and how.

  By this time, Esther was masterful at packing and was able to fit a couple of different outfits for her and for Zami into the one small suitcase. Only the most essential sewing tools and supplies were included—one pair of scissors, primary-colored threads, a few different size needles, and her measuring tape. As she understood it, the plan was not to settle in one particular location but to arrange and prepare for the journey across the Alps. There, in what would be a safe, stable environment, Esther would reestablish her business. Until then, she would pick up small jobs and assignments as opportunities were presented.

  If necessary, she could subsist for a number of months without constant work or any work at all. After purchasing the train tickets, her reserve of cash remained considerable.

  Esther left her completed assignments in a neat pile on her bed. Nadine would bring the clothes to Hendrik and collect her remaining fee. It would more than cover their expenses for the last half month spent in the boarding house.

  When the car arrived, Nadine hugged Zami, whose arms remained limp and face indifferent. Facing Esther, she knew better than to attempt an expression of warmth. With a tight, serious smile, all she said was “Sichere Reise. Safe travels.”

  Esther held Nadine’s eyes for one long moment and
dipped her head in a slight nod.

  “Danke. Vielen Dank” she managed to say. The sentiment was genuine.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  The (imagined) wall is tall … and smooth …

  without niches … or crevasses … or landings.

  The (conjured) mountain … soaring.

  The (hoped for) path … no longer clear.

  The journey … relentless …

  “Etta,” she said. “Mein Name ist Etta Göttlieb.”

  Esther looked directly into the conductor’s severe brown eyes and spoke in her finest Hochdeutsch. She knew the Gestapo agent standing to his right was listening intently with the prescribed measure of suspicion. She made sure he heard every word.

  “Und dies ist mein Sohn Hannis,” pointing to Zami in response to the conductor’s inquiry about her traveling companion.

  Only answer the questions they ask … and only when they ask.

  Give no more than is requested.

  Be polite … but not overly friendly.

  Whatever you do … do not … draw attention to yourself.

  Such commanding and perceptive counsel filled her. The voice was unequivocal, and in this situation, she took heed. She didn’t understand it, but she could not wonder. All she knew was that she no longer felt completely alone.

  The situation was public, and Esther was fully hiding in the open. Simultaneously visible and invisible—a bifurcated world offering no equilibrium or solid ground. Doggedly striving to maintain balance, stay clearheaded and vigilant, while continuously seeing two divergent realities out of each eye: one crystal sharp, hyperreal, the other fuzzy and frighteningly out of focus.

  Esther was thankful the train’s heating system had broken down and there was nothing unusual about wearing a thick winter coat and gloves inside the compartment. Although it was three degrees Celsius, she was sweating profusely. She remained strong and undaunted, merely out of practice in this type of setting. Fifteen months in Nadine’s warm home, even with Ida’s overbearing, hostile presence and unrelenting inquisitions, had softened Esther.