When the Heart Sings

by Liz Tolsma

  “I need to get back to Dominik.”

  Natia followed Pani Rzeźnikowa behind the counter and into a small sitting room just large enough to hold a table, two chairs, and a stove. Natia shook out her coat and used the towel the butcher’s wife brought to dry her hair. In short order, they settled at the table covered in a yellow cloth.

  “Pani Fromm doesn’t have a lick of sense in her head, sending you out in such weather.”

  “What do you know?”

  Pani Rzeźnikowa clutched her mug until her knuckles whitened. “Because I speak German, I understood them. I listened at the door. Those they murdered had been sabotaging the work at the factory. What you see by the statue is their punishment. And the bodies have been left to teach us a lesson. Before they went, the guards called out and told us they wouldn’t hesitate to do the same to anyone who got in their way.”

  Numbness enveloped Natia. Teodor had always been a true patriot, upset he couldn’t fight the Germans in 1939 because the battle only lasted a short time. Could he be involved with anything like this? God, don’t let anything happen to him. Or to the rest of my family.

  Pani Rzeźnikowa patted Natia’s hand. “This is a close-knit village. We aren’t blind to what’s happening. We know the rumors about the camps, those awful places where the Nazis exterminate those they don’t like, where women and children don’t stand a chance at survival. Whispers of words such as Auschwitz and Mauthausen. But what can we do?” She shook her head. “So instead, I offer you a cup of coffee and a listening ear.”

  “And teach Pani Fromm some Polish.”

  “She asked, and I didn’t see the harm. You must be lonely. If you can communicate with her, it will make your life easier.”

  “You did that for me?”

  “For you. And for her. She is young and naive and here without a mother to lead her.”

  “That is true.” Natia sipped the bitter brew, its warmth spreading throughout her.

  “Maybe if I can guide her, she will grow up.”

  A small pain pinched Natia’s heart. “You remind me of my mother. She died when I was fifteen, but she possessed so much wisdom.” If her mother were here, things would be different. “Every day, she taught me something. I keep those little nuggets with me and remember them when I wish I could speak with her and ask her advice.”

  “That makes you wiser. Good for you. I’m sorry you don’t have her anymore.”

  “She was an extraordinary woman.”

  “And what about your husband?” Pani Rzeźnikowa nodded at Natia’s right hand and the gold band around her finger.

  “We came here together. He’s at the factory.”

  “How difficult to be so close and not to communicate with him.”

  Natia swirled the dark liquid in her cup. The woman had been nothing but kind. And even helped Elfriede in order to help her. Perhaps she could be trusted. Natia sucked in a breath. “I–I do. That’s why I don’t mind being out in the rain. I walk by the building where he works and sing. He answers me with a song. The music is how we keep in touch, how we know we’re doing well.”

  “What a wonderful gift. The Lord has blessed you. Not many couples in forced labor get to see each other. Look at the men at the factory. How many hear from their wives?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Well, I can tell you.” Pani Rzeźnikowa shifted in her seat. “None. In that, you are fortunate.”

  Natia resisted the urge to snort. Fortunate? Nie, not at all. “My father and brother and sister are here too. At least, I believe they are. Of them, I have heard nothing since I arrived. Teodor hasn’t either. I–I don’t know what’s happened to them or if they’re even alive. Especially after that.” She tipped her head in the direction of the statue.

  “Oh, that is unfortunate. Perhaps your husband will get word of the rest of your family. Don’t give up hope. The Lord can do great things.”

  Could he? Did he even care anymore?

  “So, tell me about Dominik. How is he doing?”

  At the change of topic, Natia inhaled and relaxed her shoulders. “Very well. He’s growing and gaining weight. Dr. Bosco has been helpful.”

  “I’m glad. But there is more to the story.”

  There was, of course, but not anything Natia would share. Not even with a friendly woman. “The story is that I love the boy and want to raise him as my own. Mine and Teodor’s.”

  “You don’t have any idea who his mother was?”

  “Nie. I’m sure he’s not this war’s first orphan.”

  “And not the last.” Pani Rzeźnikowa tsked and shook her graying head, her hair pulled back in a severe bun. “Such a shame.” She leaned in. “But be careful. Pan Fromm is a calloused man. And demanding.”

  “That, I already know.”

  “There is steel in his eyes and hardness in his features. Watch your step.”

  “I do.”

  “Good, because I fear for you. That is the one thing that worries me about your situation. And your husband’s. If you cross that man, you stand to lose everything.”

  Natia hugged herself. Judging by the scene on the street, Pani Rzeźnikowa was right.

  The weather had cleared since the day before, and the moon broke from behind the clouds and lit Pawel’s way as he donned his felt fedora and left the Nowak residence. A new baby, praise the Lord. But to be born into such a world. What did the future hold for that little one? For all of them?

  Lord, may it not be a future like Józef’s.

  Pawel shook off the melancholy. No use in dwelling on the past. Or the future. They had enough problems to deal with in the here and now. He rubbed the back of his neck and yawned. Sleep would be top priority when he returned home.

  His empty, quiet, lonely home since Antonina had left. Before this, they had never spent a night apart. At least not one when he wasn’t working. How he missed her beside him, her thoughtful, loving ways.

  He’d heard nothing from Stanislaw and, so far, no SS had paid him a visit. If they were going to arrest him, they would have done so by now. Perhaps today he would be able to sleep with both eyes closed.

  He came to the Fromm residence, the cheery pink exterior welcoming and inviting to all except Pani Palinska. Though it looked nothing like a prison, that’s what it was for her.

  And that baby. Already, Pani Palinska was in danger, under the control of that man. Now, more so than ever. Pawel would check on them. See how they were doing. He was only going home to a cold house.

  He rapped at the door. Inside, Dominik wailed at the top of his lungs. That sounded almost like colic. As a baby, Józef had such a scream. The nights Antonina walked the floor with that one, just so Pawel could sleep.

  He banged on the door. “Pani Fromm, Pani Palinska? It’s Dr. Bosco.”

  The baby cried all the harder. Pawel glanced around. He tried the knob. It turned. He pushed in the door and stepped over the threshold.

  An angelic voice floated down the stairs. “Luli luli luli luli luli luli lu. Luli luli luli luli.” Ah, a lullaby. If anything would get the baby to stop screeching, that would.

  But it didn’t. Dominik refused to be consoled. Pawel jiggled his black doctor’s bag. Some castor oil might do the trick. He made his way toward the stairs.

  “I told you to keep that child quiet at all times.”

  Pawel stopped. That was Pan Fromm, his voice cold. Hard. Demanding.

  “I’m sorry.” Pani Palinska spoke, a quaver in her words. “He doesn’t ever cry so. I don’t know what’s wrong. He might be ill.”

  “I don’t care what the reason is. When he first arrived, I gave you the conditions under which he could stay. One was that he wouldn’t cry and disturb me. Ever.”

  “Erich, be reasonable.” Pani Fromm’s soft, innocent voice.

  “Be reasonable? What is there to be reasonable about? After overseeing a horde of filthy Poles all day, I expect to return to a peaceful home. Not to this pandemonium.”

  “Really, Er
ich, our child—”

  Smack. The sharp slap propelled Pawel up the stairs to the small, chilly attic bedroom. He stood at the door since there was little room for him to enter.

  Dominik wailed. Pani Fromm touched her red cheek and winced. Pani Palinska cowered in the corner and jiggled the screaming infant. Pan Fromm, unable to stand upright in the cramped space, raised his hand.

  Pawel burst in and grabbed Fromm by his upraised arm. “Stop it. Stop it right now.”

  Fromm spun around, wrenching himself from Pawel’s grasp. “How dare you come uninvited into my house?” He stood mere inches from Pawel, a bead of sweat on his forehead, his breath hot. “You leave my family alone, or I’ll have you taken care of like should have been done in ’39 with the other high and mighties.”

  Like the Nazis had done with his son. Pawel’s pulse throbbed in his neck. His tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. “You can do with me what you wish but leave the women and the child alone.” The Gestapo would visit him for sure.

  “What right do you, a Pole, have to come into my residence and speak to me in such a manner?”

  “I’m the only doctor in the village or the surrounding area. You need me.”

  “I need you?” Fromm scoffed. “I need you like a boat needs a hole.”

  “What would you do if I wasn’t around and you had an epidemic? You couldn’t have all of your workers sick, could you?”

  Without warning, Fromm landed a punch in Pawel’s midsection. He doubled over. Fromm chopped him on the back of his neck. Pain shot down his back. He fell to his knees, his glasses slipping to the floor. A woman screamed. So did the baby.

  “I’ll show you how much I need you.”

  “Erich, don’t.” Tears laced Pani Fromm’s words.

  Fromm hauled Pawel to his feet. “You disgust me. You deserve what’s coming to you.”

  Pawel’s stomach clenched. What did he have in mind? Had his time finally come?

  Father, protect me.

  The night Teodor and Jerzy had waited for arrived. Cloudy. Chilly. Moonless. Jerzy fell asleep in the bunk below Teodor. But he didn’t dare close his eyes, despite their heaviness. If he allowed himself to slumber, they would miss their chance.

  For a long while he sat on his bed as straight as possible. Snores and coughs rumbled throughout the room. Beds creaked as their residents shifted to search for a more comfortable position. There wasn’t one to be had. But you slept because you worked so hard for so many hours.

  Once the night deepened to its darkest and quietest, Teodor reached down and shook Jerzy awake. Neither man said a word. They slipped off their boots, tied the laces together, and slung them around their necks. On stocking feet, they tiptoed toward the door.

  Teodor crouched and duckwalked closer to the room’s entrance, his pulse pounding in his ears. Just as he expected from several nights of observation, the guard had left his post. Teodor peeked around the door frame. Light emanated from a room farther down the hall. A few laughs too.

  He tapped Jerzy’s arm and motioned for him to follow. They slunk down the hall, toward the room where the soldiers congregated. It was the only way out. If they weren’t on the third floor, they might jump from a window.

  A floorboard squeaked under Teodor’s foot. He stopped, stock-still. Held his breath.

  The Nazis in the room ceased laughing. Spoke in low voices. He couldn’t understand their words, but they must be asking each other if anyone heard that noise. He grabbed Jerzy by the arm and pulled him into an empty office.

  Sure enough, the light from the room increased. A large guard stepped into the hall. He shone a flashlight down the passage and into the dark corners.

  Teodor couldn’t breathe. His heart slowed, then sped up like a sprinter striving to win a race.

  With a click, the guard opened a door down the hall. With another click, he shut it. Teodor and Jerzy moved farther into the room, under a desk.

  Click, open. Click, closed. The German repeated this process, moving ever closer.

  Would he never get here? Just get it over with?

  Oh, Natia, I’m so sorry.

  The officer entered the room and swung the beam around. Teodor closed his eyes and remained as motionless as possible.

  The front of the desk faced the German. And hid Teodor and Jerzy.

  Click. The door shut.

  Teodor expelled his pent-up breath.

  A few more rounds of doors opening and shutting followed before the officer returned to his comrades, that pesky board creaking.

  Jerzy leaned forward and scooted out of their hiding place. Teodor pulled him back. “Wait.”

  “What if the guard goes back on duty?”

  “We have to time it right.”

  They waited.

  A song ran through Teodor’s head. The one Natia sang on the train.

  God, my Lord, my strength,

  My place of hiding, and confiding,

  In all needs by night and day;

  Though foes surround me,

  And Satan mark his prey,

  God shall have his way.

  But why this way, Lord? Why not at our little farmhouse, surrounded by children?

  Beside him, Jerzy shifted positions.

  The Lord answered in another verse.

  Up, weak knees and spirit bowed in sorrow!

  No tomorrow shall arise to beat you down;

  God goes before you and angels all around;

  On your head a crown.

  The time came to move. Teodor elbowed Jerzy and crawled from their hiding place. His friend followed. They resumed their creep down the hall. With each step, they approached the light, the room where the Nazis entertained themselves. Inside, one of them slapped a table. Teodor jumped and skidded to a halt. Jerzy bumped into him.

  The Germans roared with laughter. A chair scraped back. The cadence of the voices changed.

  Break time must be over.

  Jerzy grasped Teodor’s shoulder, his fingers digging into his flesh.

  A drop of sweat trickled down Teodor’s back.

  The door swung open.

  Natia huddled in the far corner of her attic bedroom as Pan Fromm chopped Dr. Bosco on the back of the neck. The older man slumped to the floor. Her heart thrummed in her ears.

  “Erich, nein, nein.” Elfriede’s face reddened as she screamed at her husband.

  He spun from his evil deed and unleashed a torrent of words at his wife.

  Dominik screeched at the top of his lungs. Natia patted his sweaty back and smoothed his damp curls. She should sing. Music always calmed the baby. But Elfriede’s shrieks and Dr. Bosco’s moans drove the song from her heart and her lips.

  In one long stride, Pan Fromm hovered over her, then reached down and yanked her to her feet. “I told you there would be consequences if the baby cried. And so there will be. I never wanted you in the first place.” As she clutched Dominik, Pan Fromm dragged her across the floor by the arm.

  “Where are you taking me?” Would she end up like those men in the square? She couldn’t breathe. And what about the baby?

  “Where you’ve deserved to go since the beginning.” They moved closer to the door. Natia had to step over Dr. Bosco.

  Elfriede leapt into the doorway. “Erich.” She said more to him, her tone pleading.

  Pan Fromm gestured, swinging wide while still grasping Natia, his grip crushing her upper arm. He answered his wife, his words controlled and cold.

  Elfriede shook her head and raised her voice. “Nein. Nein.” She tugged at Natia, much as she had at the train station that first day.

  He screamed at her, a vein bulging in his neck, and then pushed his wife.

  She stumbled but didn’t fall. She alternately pleaded and yelled. Each of them pulled on Natia like they were trying to tear her into pieces. Her head rang.

  After several minutes, with a torrent of angry words, Pan Fromm released his hold on Natia and she stumbled into the corner.

  “You get that
baby to shut up. Right now. Or I will strangle it. I swear, I will.” He leaned forward. A strange light passed through his steely blue eyes. Just a brief flash of something. Regret? Grief? And just that fast, it disappeared. “My son should have lived, not this boy.” He clenched and unclenched his fists.

  Her breath fluttered in ragged gasps. She rocked Dominik and whispered into the little one’s ear. “Please, sweet baby, please stop crying. You’ll be fine. You’ll see. I know you miss your mama, but she wanted you to live. That won’t be possible unless you stop crying. We can’t let him take you away. We can’t let him part us. Never will I allow that.”

  Pan Fromm marched from the room, every inch the Nazi officer. The front door slammed shut. But Natia couldn’t stop shaking. Neither could Dominik.

  Dr. Bosco struggled to a sitting position. “Get my bag.” He pointed to the bed.

  Natia came to her feet and, jiggling Dominik, brought him his battered black doctor’s case. “Are you hurt? How can I help?”

  “I’m fine.” His face, the same color gray as his hair, told a different story. “There are some drops in a glass vial for the baby. Give them to him every time he eats. They should help.”

  “Oh, dziękuję Ci.” She resisted the urge to kiss the man on the top of his almost-bald head. Instead, she touched his upper arm. “You saved our lives.”

  “I didn’t. Pani Fromm did. He was ready to take you to the factory. Only because of her intercession are you still here.”

  “And Dominik?”

  Dr. Bosco shook his head, the skin underneath his hazel eyes sagging. “You don’t want to know.”

  Her throat constricted, and she patted the baby’s bottom.

  “After tonight, are you sure you want to keep Dominik?”

  “Of course.” Pani Rzeźnikowa was right, though. Pan Fromm was a dangerous man, one who expected his rules to be obeyed. “I could never let him go. Please understand. My heart would break to lose another child.” Not a fourth one. One she had come to love as much as any mother could.

  “Tak, we keep him.” Elfriede straightened. “My husband never hurt a baby. I make sure.”

  “You can’t control him. He brought me, a grown man, to my knees. With one strike, he could kill.” He said something to Elfriede.