A Flicker of Light

by Kagan, Roberta

  “Siegland, during the day, the Jew must go into the cellar,” Hans told her.

  “What about the baby?”

  “What about the Jew? If they find him here, we’re doomed.”

  Siegland considered Klaus’ words, knowing he spoke the truth. She agreed to the arrangement to allow Aaron to hide in the cellar during the day and return to the nursery when the SS left to take the prisoners back to the camp. She and Petra would stay with Hans. If his condition grew worse, they would go and bring Aaron back immediately, regardless of the risk. Even this plan carried a great deal of danger, but they could see no other way.

  Reluctantly Aaron agreed to go into the cellar before the prisoners arrived each day, and not to come out until they had gone. Petra made sure to completely conceal the door with the hay and straw which served as a disguise.

  The prisoners finally arrived to begin the harvest, and Klaus noticed a change. For the last several years at harvest time, the Nazis came with emaciated Jews forced to perform the grueling tasks. This time, instead, the Nazis brought Poles, French, Czechs, and other political prisoners from German-occupied countries. The SS officers explained the reason for the change: The Third Reich had begun to construct their new and entirely Aryan society. Now, the deplorable elements like Jews or Gypsies would be eradicated. But lesser humans, like Poles and Slavs, could be trained as workers to serve their rightful Aryan masters.

  Klaus did not understand, “Where are the Jews that you brought before?”

  “Eliminated.”

  “What does that mean?” Klaus asked.

  “Well, in order to perfect the race, we cannot have these kinds of people polluting it. Do you know what I mean?” The SS officer smiled at the ignorant farmer.

  “Maybe; I am not sure.” Klaus answered.

  “They are being done away with. It’s best for Germany and the new Reich. It’s essential that it be done.”

  Klaus felt the sweat begin to itch on the back of his neck, but he only nodded in agreement.

  The SS officer, having wasted enough time with Klaus, turned to a sickly-looking prisoner who lay stretched out on the ground pulling asparagus and shouted, “Mach schnell!”

  It seemed to Klaus that the SS never left. They arrived early in the morning with the free labor and departed after the sun set. Only once had Aaron come out of the cellar during the day, and that was long after the open army trucks carrying the poor souls from the camps were gone. Even then, Klaus did not speak to him. He opened the trap door, and left it that way to notify Aaron the Nazis had gone and it was safe to come out. When Aaron left the cellar, he went quickly to the nursery to examine the child. Hans did not improve. His condition seemed to worsen daily, causing everyone distress. Then the baby finally stopped crying and just lay still, moaning softly. Aaron knew this was a bad sign. The child had lost his will to fight. By four o’clock that morning, Petra was drained and exhausted. She had lost the strength to go on. She knelt, crying, by the baby’s crib.

  Aaron tried to comfort her, “Please get some sleep. I’ll be here until morning, and I won’t leave him alone. I’ll stay until I make sure that you’re here with him.”

  “I can’t leave him. I can’t. He needs me. Tears covered Petra’s cheeks, and Aaron felt his heart break as he looked at the young mother. He knew the situation had become grave. The child was too young to fight the disease. Slowly, agonizingly, it was claiming his tender, young life. Aaron quietly rocked Hans in his arms. The motion seemed to soothe the little one, momentarily easing his pain. Then, just before dawn, the infant stopped breathing. His tiny body had given up the fight. With gentle hands, Aaron lay the baby in his crib and then fell to his knees and wept. He could not remember the last time he had shed tears. He could not even remember if he had cried when Greta had betrayed him, but something about the sight of that tiny body lying lifeless in the crib struck a nerve deep within him and broke him down. Petra heard the noise and raced in. She stood looking at Hans and then at Aaron, but she could no longer cry.

  “He’s gone, isn’t he?” she asked.

  “Yes, I’m sorry.”

  “I know. I know that you did everything that you could.” Sinking into the chair, Petra took a deep breath and sighed.

  “Yes, I did, and the practice of medicine certainly makes one humble,” Aaron said.

  The following day Klaus dug a small grave beneath the weeping willow tree at the far end of the farm, and the family, except for Aaron, who could not risk putting the family in peril by leaving in the cellar, buried the boy. Klaus made a small gravestone and casket, both covered with carvings of toy soldiers and baby animals. Within the casket he placed all of the toys that he had made for the child.

  For three days, Daisy refused to eat.

  Later that week, Klaus asked Siegland to come to their bedroom to talk.

  “I know how fond you have become of the Jew, but the fact is he has no place here now and he should go.”

  “How can we do this Klaus? He will be killed for sure. After the loss of little Hans I can’t stand to think about any more death.”

  “Siegland, think about this. If he stays here, we could all be killed. The Nazis will arrest people who harbor Jews. They are considered enemies of the state. Now, you know that I don’t have any bad feelings about them. I don’t know too much about them anyway, but what I do know is that we could be in very serious trouble for this. And I just don’t think it’s worth the risk.”

  “Klaus, who are you? I don’t know who you are anymore. It’s not worth the risk to save such a kind man’s life? He’s so young, and to think that we should let him die? How could you do that, Klaus?” Tears came to Siegland’s eyes.

  “Why do you ask me these things, Siegland? I don’t want him to die. You know that. I just know for sure we should not keep him here.”

  “I never knew you to be a coward, Klaus.” She left the room quietly and did not close the door.

  Klaus picked up the pocket watch that he treasured, the only possession left to him by his father, and in frustration threw it against the wall. The glass cracked into pieces that spread across the floor. Then he sat down on the bed and pounded his fists into the mattress.

  Things remained undecided concerning Aaron, until that night. When Aaron came to the house, he told the family that it would be best if he moved along. Then, thanking them for their help, he smiled sadly at Petra and told her how sorry he felt for her loss. Her skin had turned pale and her hair hung limp and lifeless. She had a terrible headache, which she attributed to the ordeal and the loss that she had endured. Petra would be sad to see Aaron go, but of course she realized it would be best. As she went to pack him a basket of food to take with him, she lost consciousness and began to fall. Aaron caught her before she hit the floor, and Klaus helped him carry her to the sofa where they laid her down. Siegland began to cry and Klaus stared at Aaron, waiting for an explanation.

  Aaron unbuttoned Petra’s white cotton blouse, and for a moment Klaus stiffened his back, appalled at such a thing. Then Klaus’ fists balled up at his side, ready to hit the younger man. “What are you doing there?”

  Aaron did not respond. Opening the shirt, he revealed the telltale rash that had begun on her chest.

  “She has the measles,” Aaron said. He felt her head for fever and found her to be warm and damp with sweat. He went into the bathroom and came back with a basin of water and the remainder of the alcohol. Then, with a washcloth, he began to bathe her face and chest to bring the fever down. Siegland stood next to him, wringing her hands together as Aaron worked quietly. Klaus stood by, looking on awkwardly with a wrinkled brow.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to accuse you of anything,” Klaus said.

  Aaron just nodded as he continued to work on Petra. Throughout the day, he bathed her as she mumbled, delirious with fever. As she tossed and turned, she cried out for her dead child, and on occasion, for her birth family. Petra was lost in her own dark world. Day after day, Aaron sat
by her side whispering soft words of comfort. With an eye dropper, he dribbled water into her mouth as she unknowingly allowed it to slip out the side of her lips. Patiently, he wiped up the dribble and tried again. He knew he must not permit her to dehydrate. Siegland and Klaus agreed that Aaron would stay by Petra’s bedside. They’d devised a plan that if any of the SS officers came into the house for water or any other reason while they attended the prisoners who worked the land, Aaron would go into the closet and remain quiet until they left. Klaus grew ever more fearful and continued to argue with Siegland over Aaron’s presence. He wanted to send him away and find another doctor, but she would not hear of it. Siegland knew that the scarcity of doctors would make finding another doctor extremely difficult, and she would not allow Petra to die. Secretly, Siegland felt that Aaron’s absence from the baby during the day had caused the child’s demise. She would not tell this to Klaus because he would be hurt to think that she blamed him. But she also firmly decided that she would not allow this mistake to happen again.

  Outside, the prisoners worked long hours in the hot sun. Klaus felt sick as he watched the SS officers strike the exhausted people with rifle butts and clubs. He could not stand up to the SS, and so he became agitated, occasionally fighting with Siegland over petty things when he came in at night. The contents of the bottle of vodka that they kept for special occasions began to diminish as Klaus washed away the guilt he could not overcome. His pride suffered, and he felt that he’d lost respect in the eyes of his wife.

  On a sunny afternoon, one of the SS had intimidated him, making him feel small and inconsequential. The officer looked over the harvest and then he turned to Klaus.

  “We expect at least three quarters of this asparagus crop. I am sure you would agree, Herr Bruchmeier. Of course you are a good German, and would want no trouble with the authorities.” The SS Officer smiled.

  “No, of course not.” Klaus said. The skin on his neck itched and he reached up with his thick calloused fingers to scratch it, not realizing that he had drawn blood.

  “Look there, Herr Bruchmeier. Why you are bleeding?”

  “I must have scratched an insect bite,” Klaus replied.

  “Of course. We will take three quarters of the strawberries as well.”

  Klaus nodded to the officer. But that night when the cake Siegland had baked turned out not to be sweet enough due to a lack of sugar, Klaus had taken the entire plate and flung it at the wall, breaking Siegland’s favorite china platter. When he saw the glass splatter across the floor and the cream-colored icing as it stuck to the wall, he was immediately sorry. Then, the tears in his wife’s eyes made him sad that he had taken his unhappiness out on her. He went to her to hug her, but Siegland turned away to get a rag to clean up the mess.

  Chapter 22

  P

  etra’s fever soared on one Friday night as Aaron tended to her, wiping the sweat from her brow as he gently smoothed the blonde curls away from her face. All night, he continued to change the water to keep her cool. Finally, the next morning, she awakened feeling better; she’d even regained her appetite. Siegland and Aaron watched Petra coming back to herself with a glimmer of hope. Aaron recommended dry toast and weak tea.

  He sat at her bedside as she nibbled the bread.

  “Thank you for everything. Every time I awoke, I saw you there,” Petra said.

  “I’m happy to have helped you,” Aaron answered.

  She blushed as he opened her shirt to look at her chest and stomach. The rash had begun to fade. Instead of the vivid cherry color, it had turned a pale pink. “You are doing much better. This is a really good indication that you are through the worst of it.”

  “Thank you again.” Hot tears spilled down her cheeks. Grateful for her life, but still missing her son, she looked at this man who once was a stranger, and now was her friend.

  With his thumb, he reached up wipe away her tears. Words eluded him. He smiled softly as his eyes filled with compassion.

  “Forgive me. I know there are many people who have lost so much more than I, and I should not be so weak. But I miss my son,” Petra said, her voice barely a whisper.

  “I understand. It’s only human. Don’t blame yourself. You lost a child. That is a hard thing, perhaps the hardest thing for a parent to go through.”

  Aaron’s kindness and the soft compassion in his eyes caused her to break down. She could take cruelty, and stand up to it with grace and courage, but the caring and genuine concern of this deep and mysterious man caused her to weep. She collapsed into his arms with spasms of grief. Without a thought, he held her as she cried. A stirring began in his heart as he felt the delicate, slim girl heave with heart-wrenching sobs. He placed his hand on the back of her head as he patted her back, quietly whispering, “It’s all right, I’m here. Get it all out. Let go of the pain.”

  When he felt that she had stopped, he softly laid her head back on the pillow.

  “You should rest; you’ve been through quite an ordeal,” Aaron suggested.

  She nodded. Her face was still blotchy and tear stained. Then Petra managed a smile as she looked into those deep, sea-green eyes that she had come to trust.

  Chapter 23

  T

  hat night Petra felt well enough to join the family at the table for dinner. Siegland insisted that Aaron eat with them. He protested, but she would not give in. So, to appease her, he sat down. Klaus nervously watched the windows and doors, afraid of spies. He could not remain seated throughout the meal, and continuously rose to peer outside. Siegland’s dominating attitude grated on Klaus’ nerves. How had he not noticed it before?

  When he finished feeding the animals after dinner that night, Klaus kicked the barn door heatedly, injuring his ankle. He returned to the house dragging his right leg.

  Aaron noticed Klaus’ limp, “It looks like you’ve hurt your foot. Would you like me to take a look at it?”

  “No I wouldn’t. What I would like is for you to get back into the cellar before someone comes here and sees you,” Klaus answered.

  “Of course, I understand, and I would be happy to oblige.”

  Siegland spoke up, “No, you will stay here for dessert. I made a strudel, and you will have some with my special coffee.”

  “Look Siegland, you act as if everything is fine. As if there is no war on. We could have real trouble here. Do you understand what this man is?” Klaus was shaking as he spoke.

  “Yes, Klaus, better than you do. I am ashamed of you, Klaus. Where is the man I married? Where is your courage and your sense of honor?”

  I would rather take my leave now anyway. Quite frankly, I’m rather tired. But thank you so much for the offer,” Aaron said as he smiled at Siegland and went to the barn, then went down into the cellar to hide. When everyone had gone to bed, Petra cut an ample slice of strawberry strudel and poured a cup of the coffee, which had not yet cooled. Then she wrapped the pastry in a piece of brown paper and headed to the barn. The latch turned as she stepped into the darkness, which was now illuminated by the light of her single candle. Aaron sat in the corner listening to the radio, which was tuned to the BBC.

  “Hello,” Aaron said when he saw her, his face brightening.

  “Hello. I brought you some strudel. You really must try it. Siegland is quite the baker.”

  “Well, I must say that she is a very good cook.”

  “Yes, she is,” Petra replied, and laid the food down on top of a covered barrel.

  Aaron opened the paper and took a bite.

  “Sorry, I forgot to bring a fork.”

  “It’s fine. This is really so nice of you.”

  “I can never thank you enough for all that you’ve done,” Petra said.

  He could think of nothing to say. They had provided him with a safe place, food and security; he wished he could offer more.

  “You have all been very helpful to me too,” Aaron said.

  “You understand English? We try here; Klaus knows a little, but when we listen to
the radio we can only make out some of what we are hearing.”

  “Yes, I learned it in school. I understand very well. If you want to know anything, I would be happy to tell you.”

  “Is it true that Germany is losing the war?” Petra asked.

  “Yes, it is. Hitler has divided his troops and is fighting on two fronts. That has weakened the German position. Once America and Russia banded together with Great Brittan, they began to defeat the Nazis.”

  “They call themselves the Allies?”

  “Yes, that’s right.”

  “I am glad they are winning. When I met Hans, I knew nothing of the Third Reich or Hitler or concentration camps. If I had known, I would have been appalled by the Nazis then. But you must understand, I was just a young girl at the time, and I saw Hans as nothing more than a handsome soldier.”

  “I understand.”

  “Please don’t hold it against me.”

  “I could never hold anything against you. You have been nothing but kind. I realize the risk you’ve taken by keeping me here,” Aaron looked into her eyes.

  In the candle light, her eyes lit up and her skin appeared luminous. He looked at her and once again her beauty overwhelmed him.

  “Either way, I’m glad that you’re here,” she said, suddenly feeling shy and self conscious. She wondered how she could feel this way when just a day before this man had held her hair as she vomited into a bucket. In her youth, she would have been embarrassed to face someone who had seen her do something so vile, but she did not feel that way with Aaron. He looked rugged and strong, but inside he concealed a gentle and kind heart. She felt as if she knew him in so many ways. She had seen his capable hands as they fed little Hans; his large and muscular arms had cradled the infant with tender care.

  Aaron could see in her eyes that she felt the same way that he did. Passion for each other had ignited in both of them, and the flame that burned appeared strong and true. For a moment it scared him. The heartbreak he’d experienced came to the forefront of his mind in a torrent of emotion. He would rather die than go through a betrayal like that again.