by Lorna Lee
Several things happened simultaneously when Meri entered the room. The guards reached for their weapons; everyone turned to the opened door and Meri; Ernst immediately put his hand up—a signal for the guards to release their grip on their pistols; the room fell silent, and all motion ceased. The room then burst into a cacophony, made louder by the prior, albeit brief, stillness.
Immobilized, Meri was unsure whether staying or leaving would be wiser. Ernst blew a shrill whistle before she had a chance to decide. Soldat burst into the room, barking and wagging his tail. Again, the guards reached for their weapons. Meri wondered, is this all these men know how to do? Seeing the old, big but harmless dog lick Meri’s hand, the guards relaxed. Is it the whistle or Soldat’s rare appearance in Madame’s study creating this blissful peace and quiet? I don’t care! At least I can hear myself think!
Kurt’s laughter broke the seeming trance and the silence. “He would make a fine soldier for our army, wouldn’t he Papa? Non. He’s too old. Would we exterminate him, Papa?” Kurt still chuckled when he turned to his father.
Meri could not help herself. She gasped. Immediately she coughed, trying to cover up her reaction. She felt heat rise from her belly to her face—heat born of both anger and fear. “Perhaps I should get Soldat back to the kitchen area…” Meri grabbed the dog’s collar.
“Non, wait, Meri. I think you should stay and hear what Herr Freels thinks about his son’s suggestion.” Monsieur spoke directly at his brother-in-law. Monsieur is too calm, too measured. Goose bumps formed on Meri’s forearms, belying the heat inside her. If I felt conflicted before, I’m more baffled now.
Ernst stared back at Michel. Devoid of all emotion, his voice blew as cold as the October wind howling outside. “Of course, Michel. Your big dog would make a fine soldier because he listens and does as he is told without question. If he is a good soldier, he has nothing to fear. Only rewards will come his way. Alas, Kurt is right. He is too old to be of use in Hitler’s great army.” He turned to Kurt and his voice softened into something more human. “We never exterminate a loyal Nazi, my boy. We take care of our own. We only punish those who seek to destroy us and our supreme leader’s vision of creating a pure, unified, and peaceful world.” Turning back to Michel, he said, “I do not know why anyone would resist such a noble cause.”
Meri watched Monsieur. His hands formed fists with knuckles as white as the Dorval’s finest linens. Madame nodded in full agreement with her brother-in-law while holding her sister’s shoulder. Madame Freels wiped her eyes with a delicate lace hankie, and then dabbed Karla’s tear drenched face, nodding all the while with less enthusiasm. Karla still cried. Karla liked to cry. Kurt revealed his emotions genuinely and ominously. His chin held high, he smiled as brightly as sunshine on a mid-July day. He could barely keep still.
Kurt’s words burst out of him like bullets from a machine gun. “Mamma, that’s why I’m going to Germany, to join Hitler’s Youth. I’m going to be a soldier like Papa, fighting for Hitler and for a pure, unified, and peaceful world for all of us. They can’t do it without me. Papa wants me to go. I want to go and I’m going. Why wait? I’m a good soldier already. I’ll be leading troops before you know it. Maybe even here.” Meri wasn’t sure he took a breath. She did not. Monsieur flailed his arms and shouted “Mon Dieu!” Ilsa resumed crying.
Greta gazed with adoration on Kurt and then Ernst. She turned her attention to Meri, speaking curtly as usual. “Meri, your duties will be changing. Karla will be your only responsibility as of next week, so I will be increasing some of your duties.”
“Oui, Madame.” Meri curtsied, if only to do something other than stand there and stare.
“Madame has failed to tell you, Meri, that those increased duties will involve tending to more guests in what now will become a German office and residence for Herr Freels and his men.” Monsieur spit the words out.
“Michel, the help need not know everything at this moment.” Greta scanned the room, focusing her attention on Ernst and the German soldiers.
“Don’t be shy Greta. Our house is, quite literally, their house.” Michel turned and strode to the doorway where Meri still held Soldat by the collar. He grabbed Soldat’s collar from Meri, spun the old dog around more forcefully than either man or dog expected given the oomph that came from both of them, and left the room.
Meri turned to leave, then remembered the children—her responsibility. “Does Madame Freels need me to feed or bathe the children?” She hoped the answer was “no” so she could follow Michel and talk to him. Alas, Meri was used to disappointment in this household.
Neither child ate well. The thought of her brother leaving her made Karla “sick to her tummy.” Kurt could not sit still long enough to eat. His enthusiasm about leaving to become a “real” soldier overwhelmed him. Meri gave up on bathing either of them. Exhausted after they were both in their rooms, Meri said to the ceiling, “Putting them to bed is harder than weaving a rope from sand. Damn those people, I did my job. I have to.” She added silently, Now, I only hope I can find Michel in his study…
She used the servant’s staircase leading to the kitchen, hoping to avoid the Mesdames and Herr Freels with his guards. Meri knocked lightly on Michel’s study door.
“Go away.”
“It’s me…Meri!” She whispered as loudly as she dared.
“Meri, not now. Tomorrow, perhaps.”
“Monsieur…”
“Go away, Meri.”
This is not good. Non, not good at all. Meri went back up to her room and worried herself to sleep. She twisted the hem of her nightgown beyond recognition.
§
Meri finished her morning duties with the children and Soldat. She decided to try once again to speak to Michel. This time she had success. She explained what happened when she left Jeannine at the Catholic convent.
“It solves Annabelle’s situation and keeps Jeannine safe. I have heard only good reports about the Sisters of Charity, Meri. Try not to worry about Jeannine. There are more important issues to worry about closer to home.” He gazed out of the window in his study rather than face her. The few remaining leaves on the trees struggled to stay on the branches on the windy late October day. This is how Monsieur probably feels about hanging onto his position in his own home.
“I agree. Children adjust to whatever comes their way…probably better than we do.” Meri blushed. “I’m sure she’ll get a fine education with the nuns. I’m sorry I burdened you with my worries.”
Michel turned to Meri. A moment of silence passed between them. Meri did not know what to think since Monsieur’s face and eyes were as blank as the back of a pauper’s tombstone.
Shifting from one foot to the other, Meri finally said, “Monsieur? Are you all right?”
Silence.
She bent her head down and whispered, “Perhaps your days of caring about me are over….”
Michel sighed louder than Meri had ever heard anyone sigh. Was he holding his breath all of this time?
Meri glanced up, her mouth agape. Michel’s blue eyes were swimming in unshed tears…again.
“Of course I care about you, Meri. Perhaps now more than ever. You are my only ally in this house and therein lay the problem. We must be cautious. Madame is not the only one we have to worry about. There are now many eyes and ears watching me closely.”
“Monsieur…Michel. I wouldn’t have come to talk with you if I wasn’t desperate.”
He waved his hand in the air, as if to shoo a fly. His tears receded…waves pulling away from the shore. “I want you to come to me whenever you need me. You are like family to me. Better than my family, in fact. We have to find ways of supporting each other without raising the suspicions of my wife and her German entourage who have taken over my home. Do not worry, Meri. I will find a way.” He came around his desk, gave her a brief embrace and a kiss on the cheek, lingering a moment longer than a kiss from a friend might. “Now go and attend to your duties before someone decides we are u
p to no good.” His smile reminded her of the sliver of a moon before it disappears into the night sky.
“Oui, Monsieur.” Unsure if he was teasing or serious, Meri curtsied and smiled a wobbly smile. As she left his study, she was deep in thought. Who are you to me? “Michel” who could be my illicit lover? Or “Monsieur” who wants to protect me and needs me as his ally? Who do I want him to be? Men and children and wars make life so complicated!
§
Life in the Dorval residence, now the Dorval-Freels residence, took on a new, fairly comfortable routine. In mid-November, 1940, eleven-year-old Kurt proudly returned to Germany with his father to join Hitler’s Youth. In late November, Herr Freels returned to Paris to set up permanent residence with his wife and daughter, compliments of the Dorvals. His promotion to a supervising officer in Hitler’s army overseeing the French occupation, meant he often entertained other German officers also stationed in France, as well as those either visiting or passing through en route to other fronts. Herr Freels never conducted official Third Reich business at the residence. He had a separate office, probably a French government office his army confiscated or one the government handed over to the Germans. Meri, following Monsieur’s lead, was disgusted with how many French citizens supported and even socialized with the enemy.
Regardless of Michel’s hatred for the current situation, his business prospered as a result of the occupation and his brother-in-law’s connections. German officers and soldiers needed their uniforms repaired. The women, French or otherwise, the officers wanted on their arm or in their beds, needed to dress their best when in the company of their escorts. Monsieur Dorval’s fashion house became the designated “place to go,” as long as he employed only “desirable” classes of workers. Michel, against his conscience, made sure all of his workers passed the German standard of “desirable.” His revived business helped Monsieur’s mood. He told Meri in private many times he despised the Nazis and their ideals. He also despised having them and their ilk as his primary customers. Working keeps him sane and away from this insane house. I’m happy for him. He even smiled when he told me he’s been able to hire back a few of his former employees. Like Papa, Jeannine, Siri, and even Amiel, a smile from him makes me happy, too.
He kept his promise to Meri, too and secretly brought in jackets or trousers with bullet holes that Meri mended in the privacy of her room. Because the fashion of the day for ladies’ apparel was more streamlined, he could easily sneak in a dress or skirt for her to hem. She loved the feel of the silky material and the cheerfulness of the colorful threads that accompanied the garments. Often Meri stayed up until the wee hours of the night completing a project just so that Michel would be impressed with her work and bring her more. Maybe, after the war, he’ll be able to hire me as a real employee in his fashion house.
Michel confided in Meri one of the reasons he enjoyed the resurgence in his business: “If something good, even a little bit, can come from these monsters, then I will take it. I see the bullet holes in their uniforms and I feel proud of our soldiers.” Michel told Meri this in a rare private moment. They walked together through the gardens with Soldat between them.
Meri nodded ever so slightly. She patted Soldat on the head. “I feel sad that anyone has to die because of the Jews.”
“The reasons for the war are more complicated.”
“Michel, can we not speak of the war, especially when we’re in your lovely garden and we’re all alone?”
He nodded and turned his attention to Soldat. “He walks slowly these days, the old boy.” Michel patted his dog’s back. The dog wobbled.
“Oui, Monsieur. He tires easily. Life, it seems, is getting too hard for him.” Meri’s eyes puddled up with tears. One slipped down her cheek and she quickly brushed it away. “The cold weather. It hurts his bones.”
Monsieur put his hands on the small of his own back and squeezed his shoulders together. “He’s not the only one who feels his age.”
Meri smiled while wiping another tear escaping down her cheek. “I’ll have little to do here…or so it seems, once he’s gone. Karla is growing fast and Madame Freels keeps a close watch on her since Kurt left. I suppose Philippe will always need help in the kitchen—especially with all the Germans we entertain now.”
Michel turned to Meri and touched her arm, stopping her. Soldat plopped to the ground—his favorite position of late. “You love old Soldat, don’t you, Meri?”
“Michel! Don’t be silly. He’s just a dog! I don’t love him. It’s just that my routines will change when…when he…he…goes.” Meri burst into tears. “Mon Dieu! Oui. I do love your big, silly dog. I’ve always loved him. He’s like my baby, but a baby I’m able to feed and tend to—not like Jeannine. He’s a baby who never screams at me or causes me trouble.”
“Perhaps old Soldat has more life in him than you think, Meri. Don’t bury him yet.” He turned toward the house. “I must get inside. Suspicious eyes and ears…you know.”
Sniffling and bending down to pet Soldat, who was laying still but breathing heavily, Meri nodded. “I won’t bury him yet.”
Monsieur returned to the residence while Meri urged Soldat up to complete his walk. She used the quiet time to think, knowing no one was likely to call upon her to fulfill some trivial need. Meri did not get much privacy. Her time with Soldat provided her cherished solitude with a rare loving soul who, she believed, truly appreciated her.
After she came in from walking Soldat, Meri had to help Philippe prepare dinner. She realized, albeit reluctantly, the advantages of working in a household essentially run by Germans. Unlike so many French homes, our kitchen is well-stocked. We’re probably eating food taken from people like Siri or Annabelle. The thought both saddened and sickened her. Chopping the fresh vegetables and hunks of lamb filled her with guilty gratitude. She didn’t suffer the hunger she saw in the eyes of too many people on Parisian streets, which she walked freely at least once a week on either errands or to visit Jeannine. The family portrait guaranteed her safe passage.
Meri also had to admit that, other than the brutality she and Jeannine witnessed during Simon’s arrest, the Germans she encountered had good manners. They tried to speak French, nodded in greeting, and even smiled at Jeannine sometimes when she skipped or hummed. Skipping and humming was rare in Paris in the early 1940s. The Germans did not seem like the devils some French—the Resistance—made them out to be, at least not the ones Meri served meals to several times a week. But like Michel, she abhorred their hatred of Jews and other people they considered “worthless.” Meri’s experience with Madame and Herr Freels gave her another view of Germans. They had edges as sharp and hard as a new shovel. Perhaps, these polite Germans are savages under a thin porcelain shell? What does it take to crack the shell and release the monster? Meri shuddered.
Soldat, who was always by her side when she cooked, swayed and bumped into her thigh. “I’m thinking too much and not paying enough attention to either you or this dinner I’m supposed to be preparing, eh, Soldat?” Meri nudged him gently with her hip.
§
Meri’s child care duties waned significantly since Kurt was in Germany and Madame Freels had adopted an over-protective maternal feeling for Karla. Her primary functions in the household changed to working in the kitchen, attending to Soldat, and supervising any children Karla invited into the house for limited play time. Madame Dorval agreed to “loan” Meri to her husband to assist him in his newly-busy fashion house for a few hours each week, as long as she was not needed for domestic duties. Michel brought a small electric sewing machine to the residence for Meri to use and gave her more complex projects to sew. She was making garments, not just hemming them by hand. Meri also spent time at the design house, delivering garments and helping with anything that Michel needed. Madame only agreed to this arrangement as long as Meri was not given extra wages for her garment work and that her household duties always remained a priority.
Meri knew Madame had another agenda. She
overheard the negotiations between the Greta and Michel. Madame admitted, “I prefer only German sympathizers to work directly for me, so you can have her when I do not absolutely need her.” Meri had little interaction with Madame since the Germans came into the household and she enjoyed her new employment at the fashion house more than Madame would ever know.
With lighter child care responsibilities, Meri assumed she would have regular days off each week to visit Jeannine—like she did before. When Meri assumed, disappointment followed. Since Herr Freels often entertained his German guests on weekends, Meri’s free days were cancelled without notice. She would often wait five or six weeks to visit the convent. When granted a day off, she was warned not to be gone very long. With her visits brief and unsatisfying, Jeannine became angry. “You shouldn’t have come at all. I see you for a few minutes and then you’re gone, making me miss you more than if you hadn’t come at all. You’re cruel.” Meri had no argument. She agreed.
Meri, in a moment of bitterness, mentioned her dilemma to her guardian angel, Michel, and a solution appeared. My papa is dead and is working through Michel Dorval to be the watchful protector I never had in real life. Bless you, Papa. Bless you, Michel.
One of the “errands” Monsieur assigned Meri required a delivery or pick-up of some merchandise in close proximity to the Sisters of Charity convent. The imaginary delivery occurred one week, and the equally imaginary pick-up was scheduled two weeks later. The rules of the convent allowed visitors only on Saturday, so Monsieur had to convince his wife about the importance of the Saturday delivery schedule.
“How will you persuade her?” Meri began twisting her uniform’s hem.
Noticing Meri’s tell-tale sign of concern, Michel placed his hand on the hand Meri used to mangle her uniform. He smiled a devious smile. “I told her the packages were repaired German uniforms. She immediately approved.”