When the Heart Sings

by Liz Tolsma

  “Stop it.” Teodor jabbed him in the side. “You look guilty.”

  “Because I am.”

  “They haven’t caught on so far.”

  “So far. Those are two big words.”

  “We can’t fight. The invasion was over so quickly, I never joined the military and defended my country.” He swallowed as his mind replayed the day the Nazis invaded their town, when life changed forever. A day he would always regret. “Here is my chance. And I’d like to give everyone that same chance.”

  “Can we trust them?”

  “Quiet.” Fromm’s bellow echoed in the room.

  Teodor drilled a few more pieces. After several minutes, Fromm turned his back to them. “Why not?”

  “The Germans might have planted a spy among us.”

  A huge guffaw built in Teodor’s chest, but he suppressed it. “Who on earth would want to live and work and try to survive in these conditions? You’re paranoid.”

  “Cautious is more like it. I have a wife and children. You have a family too.”

  That’s all that occupied his brain these days. And that’s what drove him. He needed to be with his bride as soon as possible.

  “Just getting through each day, trying to make it to the end, is hard enough. You’ve heard the rumblings about Kiev the same as I have.”

  Rumblings that the Russians had recaptured the city and pushed the Germans west. “How much can we be sure of? Kiev is far away. A year or more might pass before the Soviets arrive. We could all be dead.” Not a cheery picture to paint, but the truth.

  When they returned to the barracks at the end of the day, darkness had already enveloped them. The soldiers didn’t bother them in here. Too much disease. Too many vermin. Too much suffering, even for the hardened Nazis.

  Still Teodor waited until long after their shift to gather the men around him. They didn’t turn on the lights, in part to avoid drawing the guards’ attention, and in part because the moonbeam streaming through the window illuminated the room.

  “What is this all about?” A man coughed.

  Another took up the cry. “Yeah, I don’t remember appointing you king.” Sounded like Lech.

  Teodor held up his hand for silence. “Just hear me out. What we’ve been slaving away manufacturing in this place has something to do with the German war machine. We’re supplying parts for their tanks or airplanes or ships. Whatever it might be, we’re one of the cogs that keeps them turning. Those who keep them moving forward, oppressing our people, stealing our homes and land. Killing us.”

  A buzz shot through the crowd, though they kept their voices quiet. Now Teodor had their attention. “We’re partly responsible.”

  One bear of a man with greasy hair stepped forward. “Watch it now, Palinski. You’ll find no greater patriot than me. I’d die for my country. How about you?”

  Jerzy spun around and stood shoulder-to-nose with the much larger man. “Hear Teodor out. Palinski is in here because he refused to sign the Volksdeutsche. Just like the rest of us, he’s lost everything. Listen to him.”

  Teodor hid his grimace. Jerzy didn’t need to fight his battles for him. But the near-giant backed down.

  “What I’m proposing has everything to do with patriotism. About how, even though we’re slaves in this prison, we can do our share to defeat our enemy and return our country to its former glory.”

  A few men nodded.

  Teodor drew in a deep breath. “Jerzy and I have been testing this plan for the past several weeks. And so far, it’s gone without a hitch. Now we’re ready to offer it as an option for anyone who wants to join us.”

  A light bobbed outside the door, visible through the window in the entry. Teodor hushed the men. As a group, they held stock-still, not daring to breathe until the guard’s shoes creaked away from them and the light disappeared.

  Teodor kept his voice as low as possible. “If we make mistakes on these parts, the Nazis won’t be able to use them in their application. That will slow their production and hinder them in battle.”

  A man hiding in the shadows spoke up. “How do we do that?”

  “Make an error. A small one. Don’t set the template in the exact position. Move it over. Even a few millimeters works. My guess is the design is precise enough that even a tiny variation from the plan will render the part useless.”

  The bear stood again. “And what if they catch us?”

  Teodor outlined the same procedure he and Jerzy used. “Of course, there is risk. No battle is without it. But there is also no reward without risk. Look around you. How much longer can you endure? Isn’t it worth the chance to end the war even a day or two sooner? That small amount of time might be the difference between life and death for you. Or for your family.”

  Murmurs rippled through the group.

  “Not everyone needs to participate. Even a few of us will make a difference. Who is with me?”

  Natia stood in the middle of the living room and stared at Pan Fromm, his mouth pinched, his nostrils flaring. She pulled Dominik tighter against herself, her knees weak.

  “I’ll repeat my earlier question. Why is there a child in my house?”

  “I–I . . .” She drew in a deep breath. If she continued to stammer, he would get suspicious. “This is my sister’s child. She passed away not long ago and sent her baby here. The woman who brought him can’t care for him anymore.”

  He stepped closer. She pulled the thin gray blanket around Dominik’s head to keep Pan Fromm from spotting the flea bites. He would never let the baby stay if there was any possibility of typhus. “And what do you propose doing with this infant?”

  Natia locked her knees to keep from slumping to the floor. “His name is Dominik. And he won’t be any bother, I promise. He won’t affect my work. Your wife enjoyed playing with him this evening. Perhaps having him around will cheer her.”

  “Or the child might tire her and cause her untold grief and heartache. Have you thought about that?”

  “This little one is a good tonic. He brings a joy that’s been missing from this home. Ask Pani Fromm. She’ll tell you.”

  Pan Fromm moved toward her until he stood close enough for her to smell the foul beer on his breath. He narrowed his eyes and pointed at her. “The child may stay on two conditions. One, that he never, never, never interrupts me, either day or night. If I can’t enjoy my evening or if I can’t get a good night’s sleep, I will remove him from my home. Along with you. Two, that he not upset my wife. If I find Elfriede struggling with having a child here, I will take care of the problem myself. Is that clear?”

  A knot formed in Natia’s stomach. She nodded. How she would keep Dominik from crying, she had no idea. But she would try everything she could.

  “I’m going to bed. And I’d better sleep through the night.”

  Natia dragged on her way to the market the next morning, Dominik tied to her in a sling that she’d formed from an old bedsheet. Within a few steps of the house, the baby fell asleep.

  If only she could shut her eyes for a little while. To keep Dominik from crying, she had walked the floor and fed him bread at regular intervals throughout the night. He hadn’t uttered a peep. But now Natia had a difficult time staying awake. She blinked her gritty eyes.

  As she approached the factory, she perked up. She would get to tell Teodor about the baby. Already, she had a connection with the child. Both had lost their mothers. Both had no home to call their own. Both were hated and hunted by the Nazis.

  Large, gray clouds loomed overhead. The wind bit through Natia’s coat. She gazed at the rows and rows of windows on each of the three floors of the factory. Now she knew which one Teodor was near. Each day, he answered her with little songs of his own. Most of the time, she laughed at his feeble attempts at a melody. Her husband bore many good qualities.

  Singing was not among them.

  Still, his replies kept her going until the following day.

  She approached the window about three-quarters of the w
ay down the row. Today she would sing a special song.

  Go to sleep, my little doll

  Time for you to go to bed

  I’ll be rocking you

  And you’ll close your eyes.

  Luli luli luli luli luli luli lu,

  Luli luli luli luli.

  The song for her children. The song for this one, whom she now counted among her own. The first one who had responded to her voice.

  A shadow passed in front of the window and paused. Teodor never lingered. She never caught more than a glimpse of his sketchy outline.

  She reached into the sling and pulled Dominik into her arms. The little one protested the interruption to his nap. Natia turned him around and kissed him on the cheek.

  Teodor stayed. So did she.

  She sang the lullaby again. My little doll. Her doll. Their doll. With each word, she poured out her love for Dominik. Her love for Teodor. Her love for their family. The music filled the air and warmed the chilly day.

  Pawel sat at his paper-covered desk, slipped off his wire-rimmed glasses, and rubbed his temples. This wasn’t his first time forging papers. He’d done more than his fair share. Birth certificates. Baptism certificates. Passports.

  But something struck him about this job. Maybe it was the fact that it was for a Jewish child living in a German house with a Polish prisoner. Or because of the woman’s close association with Pan Fromm, who required his services at the factory from time to time. Whatever the reason, his hand shook as he drew his pen from the middle top desk drawer. He dipped the nib into the ink and focused on the job in front of him.

  He didn’t hear his wife enter the room until she set a cup of tea in front of him. “You’re concentrating very hard.”

  He stared into her light-green eyes, the feature he’d first fallen in love with three decades ago. To this day, she had the capacity to steal his breath. “Hmm?”

  “What is that?”

  He whipped the paper into the drawer, then slammed it shut. “Nothing.”

  “Pawel.”

  He picked up the old, chipped cup, his favorite mug, and lifted it to his lips. “You know there are things I can’t answer.”

  “I don’t want anything to happen to you. Not like Józef.”

  He stroked her cheek. “I miss him too.”

  “The pain hasn’t gone away.”

  The gash in his own heart continued to bleed. “Maybe it never will. But don’t you see? I couldn’t help him.” He closed his eyes until the burning in his throat subsided. He would never forget Józef’s look as the soldiers murdered him. Pawel shook away the image and opened his eyes. That’s why he did this.

  “My dear, these are dangerous times.” She clasped her hands together. Deep lines etched her forehead.

  “Walking down the street can be risky these days. I’ve managed to survive so far, even though many of my colleagues haven’t. I can’t do nothing. Perhaps God saved me for a reason. To live the life Józef couldn’t.”

  “But I have a feeling this is different.” She reached out and grasped him by the shoulder. “Please tell me it’s nothing you can get into trouble for.”

  He touched her hand. “You worry too much. I’ve escaped the Nazis’ clutches because I’m important to them. Without me, they wouldn’t have a doctor at the factory. And they need one there.”

  “They could always bring in one of their own.”

  “Stretched too thin would be my guess, especially with the massive casualties on the Eastern front.” He stood and pecked her lips. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  She grabbed him around the waist and pulled him to her. “Don’t leave me.”

  He whispered in her jasmine-scented hair, “I won’t.”

  The ringing of the telephone interrupted the moment. Antonina stepped from his embrace. “I’ll let you get back to work.” With a soft click of the door, she left.

  He answered the call. A muffled voice came through the line. “We have a problem, Bosco.”

  Pain throbbed behind his right eye. Stanislaw, his contact in Warsaw. “What is it?”

  “The dog ran away.”

  Sweat covered Pawel’s hands, and he thumped into his chair. Code for someone in their network being arrested.

  “Apparently just took off, no leash, no collar, no nothing. Just left incriminating evidence.” Stanislaw gave a wry laugh.

  But this was no joking matter. The man needed to watch his tongue in case an operator was listening on the line. Especially if they could be implicated in whatever the arrested compatriot had left behind. “That’s not good news.”

  “I’m sorry to tell you. Why don’t you do something to cheer yourself up? Go on holiday. Take a trip. Get out and see Poland.”

  Pawel harrumphed. “You make it sound like an adventure.” Antonina had had a bad feeling. He opened the desk drawer and stared at the false birth certificate.

  “Of course it would be.”

  “I told you I didn’t want a dog.” Pawel’s part in the resistance was supposed to be between Stanislaw and him. No one else.

  “I’m sure the animal will return, and everything will be fine. But it wouldn’t hurt for you to take a trip. Imagine how good it would be for your health. I worry about you.”

  What kind of incriminating evidence was Stanislaw talking about? How much did the Gestapo know about him? “I’m sure you have nothing to be concerned about.”

  “Maybe, maybe not.”

  Pawel ended the call, then paced the small room lined with book-filled and medicine bottle-covered shelves. He couldn’t leave his patients. He was the only medical professional for a wide area. For himself, he’d have to take the chance.

  But Antonina . . . “Darling, can you come in here?”

  Within moments she returned, wiping her hands on her apron. “You don’t have to go out?”

  “The call was someone warning me about a possible threat. It’s probably nothing, but I would feel better if you weren’t here. We have a little savings, and you’ve always wanted to visit the Black Sea. Why don’t you go?”

  “In the winter?” She raised her eyebrows.

  “It won’t be so crowded.”

  She bit the corner of her lip. “Not without you.”

  He came around the side of his desk and pulled her close, closer than before, closer than ever. “Please, do this for me.”

  “Nie, I refuse to go alone. You must come with me. I’ve already lost one piece of my heart. I couldn’t stand it if I lost the rest.”

  “The people here need my help.”

  “And if you’re arrested, they will truly have no one to care for them.”

  “I don’t think it’s anything. In a few weeks you can return. Just for my peace of mind. Please.”

  She soaked his shirt with her tears. But she would do whatever he asked. And that’s why he loved her.

  Teodor pressed his forehead against the icy window overlooking the road in front of the factory. Why did Natia choose to sing that lullaby? She only ever crooned it to their children. Each of whom rested on a hillside in their hometown, far from here.

  Every time she sang it, sadness and pain laced each note. Often she broke down in the middle of the song, too great was her sorrow.

  The tune pierced him and twisted his heart. The ache grew until it threatened to consume him. He had so looked forward to having a son or two by his side, working the fields with him, playing ball with him, teaching him everything he needed to know. That song not only spoke of Natia’s pain, but of his own. In Andrzej’s perfect face, he’d glimpsed the possibilities.

  Only to have his dreams torn from him for a third time.

  Why did God keep stealing their children from them? It wasn’t right; it wasn’t fair. They were good people. Look at these Germans giving birth to child after child. Why would God give those monsters offspring, but not those faithful to him?

  And why did Natia choose to sing these words today? Each of her songs conveyed a message. That she was w
ell. That she worked hard. That she missed him. What was she trying to tell him with this selection?

  And then she stopped and drew a bundle from the sling around her shoulders. He squinted. A sack of flour? A bag of straw?

  She turned it around.

  Nie. A baby.

  Her face glowed. That smile, he hadn’t seen that smile in almost two years.

  Gooseflesh prickled his arms.

  A baby.

  He leaned against the windowsill. She lost the child just days before they arrived here. She was recovering from the birth. They hadn’t . . .

  There was no way this was his child.

  He clenched his fists.

  Fromm.

  Teodor shuddered.

  Wait. They hadn’t been here long enough for Natia to give birth. What was going on?

  Jerzy slapped him on the back. He winced.

  “What’s wrong? Is it something with Natia?”

  “I don’t know. She, she has a baby.”

  “You lucky man. You didn’t tell me.”

  “Because I don’t understand. She couldn’t. It’s not mine. Hers. Ours.”

  “You aren’t making sense. Why would she have a child if it didn’t belong to either one of you?”

  “Perhaps it’s the Fromms’. That must be it. For whatever reason, Natia has the baby with her today. She sang the song to give me hope that one day we’ll be free and can have the family we’ve longed for.” Teodor spoke more to himself than to Jerzy.

  “It’s time to get to work.”

  “I’ll be right there.” In a low voice, Teodor sang the lullaby back to Natia and the child. Just so long as she didn’t get her heart broken, whatever her connection to the infant. Today, for the first time in a long time, she was happy. God, don’t let anything happen to wipe that smile from her face.

  He spun around, the barracks already empty. How long had he stood by the window? He scurried across the room and out the door.

  Straight into Fromm.

  He slapped his crop against his hand. “Ah, Palinski. Running a bit late today, I see.”

  Teodor stared at the floor and lunged forward.

  “Not so fast.” Fromm pushed on his chest to stop him. “Tardiness is not tolerated. I must come up with an appropriate punishment for you. Hmm, let me see. I already have your wife. Sweet little thing she is.”