by Liz Tolsma
Rivulets of rain raced down the kitchen window. Natia watched as the smaller droplets combined to make larger ones, the sky weeping with her. Would this captivity never end? Would she ever sleep without fear? When would Pan Fromm make good on his threat? These past several days had been their own form of torture.
“What you doing?”
She jumped and spun around. “Elfriede. I didn’t hear you.”
“I’m sorry. Dominik sleeps. I come for some coffee.”
“I’m just peering out the window, wishing I could go home, to my babies, to the land I love. I miss my family, and I long for my husband. I need to see him. Not in a few weeks or months. I need to be with him now, especially now. You understand, don’t you?”
“You miss Teodor. But that love, I do not know.”
Natia grasped Elfriede by both hands. “To not love your husband with all of your heart? That, I can’t understand. He is my song.”
“You know Erich. He is not a nice man. He hurts people. How can I love him?”
“I thought you did. Why did you marry him?”
Elfriede sighed.
“Sit at the table and let me get you coffee. Then, we’ll talk.” Natia poured them each a steaming cup of the ersatz brew. With no sugar or milk, she had to almost hold her nose to drink the bitter liquid. But it filled the stomach. As the Fromms’ rations dwindled, so did Natia’s.
She scraped back a chair and positioned herself across from Elfriede. “We have lived and worked together for more than a year. At first, I didn’t like you. But now, you’re my friend. If I may be allowed to call you that.”
“Your friend? I like that. But we cannot let Erich know. He would not like. He does not like Poles.”
Natia nodded.
“Erich look so nice. So, how do you say?”
“Handsome.”
“Tak, handsome. He is strong and smart. He thinks I’m pretty. So, we go together to cinema, to cafe, all over. My Vater, he likes him. A good Nazi, he says. You must marry him. Erich will take good care of you. Together you will make pure babies for the fatherland. That is what good German girls do.”
“So you got married because your father wanted you to?”
“Tak. And I was going to have a baby. Erich was proud. He love me, says I am good German woman.”
Natia reached over and patted her hands. “You don’t have to say more.”
“He get very angry when our baby die. And more angry when no more babies come. I did not love him. I don’t now. But forever, I must be with him. Why did God take my baby? Was I bad? God angry too?”
“Nie. You listen to me.” Natia handed Elfriede a handkerchief, even though her own eyes streamed with tears. Pain ripped through her midsection as it did each time she lost a child. “For a long time, I thought that’s why God took my children. Because I was not good enough.”
Oh, those endless, dark days. Days of trying so hard to be good enough to deserve a child. One who lived. She did everything the doctor and the pastor told her to do.
And it wasn’t enough. God wrenched each of her precious children from her womb. And the stabbing wound in her heart throbbed. Because what she wanted more than anything in the world was the one thing she couldn’t have.
Her arms, Teodor’s cradle, their home remained empty. The roundness of other women’s bellies, the sweet melody of other children’s laughter, the powdery fragrance of other infants’ skin taunted her. Why couldn’t she have what everyone else had?
Time had smoothed the jagged edges of the hurt. But nothing, not even Dominik, would ever take it away.
She drew in several ragged breaths so she could speak. “But God didn’t take our children from us because we had done something bad.”
“Then why?” Elfriede peered up at Natia, her full lips trembling, her teary blue eyes shimmering with unanswered questions.
“I don’t know. I can’t tell you.” The one answer that would satisfy her longing, God withheld from her. Would she ever understand why he denied her the joy of giving Teodor a child?
But in front of her was a woman who understood her pain. This bonded them, formed them into a sisterhood that those allowed to be mothers would never understand. Only someone who had lost the way they lost could feel the same burning ache. And maybe, just maybe they could help each other.
“This is not a good time to have a child. What would have happened to my babies if Teodor and I were in the prison camp? Would they have been in there too?”
“Nie.” Elfriede twisted the hem of her pink blouse. “Maybe. I don’t know.”
“I don’t either. But that’s what I think. It’s best they aren’t in this world suffering. Tak, my soul hurts when I remember them.” The tears came even harder and faster, her sorrow cascading from her. “What would they look like? Like Teodor? Like me? Would they follow him in the fields or help me in the kitchen? What am I missing by not having them in my life?” A sob burst from her lips.
“All the words, I don’t know, but I know your heart.”
“But my children aren’t hungry. They aren’t cold or afraid. They aren’t in pain. Or lonely. What more could I wish for them? How selfish to want them here, in this world, where people hurt others with so little regard.” Even though their absence brought the tears that soaked her pillow every night.
Elfriede slid her chair next to Natia and drew her into a sideways embrace. “Dominik makes us mothers.”
“He is my joy.” But Pani Rzeźnikowa’s words rang in her head. What would happen to Dominik after the war? Would Elfriede keep him? They couldn’t divide him in half.
“You are good friend.” Elfriede wiped her nose and flashed Natia a shaky smile. “You understand. I will help you see your husband.”
“How?” Elfriede had never been to the factory or shown any interest in going. She would never be able to get Natia in there to spend a moment with Teodor.
“We will think of a way.”
Elfriede’s heart fluttered under her ribs like a caged bird. Here she was, marching Natia down the street in the middle of the day, right toward the factory where Erich worked. She couldn’t get more brazen. Where had this gumption come from?
For her new friend, she would do anything. Natia understood the deep, aching longing that consumed her day and night. She was the first woman Elfriede found who knew what it was like to hold her still, lifeless child. And who knew that pain in the very depths of her being, who understood that pain would never cease.
To thank Natia for such a special kinship, Elfriede would risk her husband’s ire.
She turned to Natia and nodded. She plodded behind, her head down against the wind that blew tendrils of brown hair into her face, her embroidered black shawl around her shoulders. Dominik nestled into Natia’s shoulder. Elfriede smiled and kept moving forward.
The factory loomed before her, its smokestacks rising high into the sky, almost as if they could reach the fluffy white clouds floating overhead. Exhaust poured from the stacks. Her stomach churned. She shouldn’t have eaten the toast Natia prepared for breakfast. It might not stay inside.
Nein, she promised to do this. She squared her shoulders and flung open the door to the factory’s offices. Fräulein Wurtz sat behind a metal desk, plunking away at a typewriter. She didn’t so much as glance up. “Can I help you?”
“I want to see my husband.”
Now the red-haired secretary did tear her concentration from her work. “Frau Fromm. Your husband is busy.”
“Tell him his wife is here on an urgent matter.”
She patted her hair, rolled in the latest fashion, and sniffed. “Fine. But you can deal with his anger. He told me he wasn’t to be disturbed.”
“Disturb him.” Elfriede’s knees quaked under her brown speckled skirt.
Natia repositioned Dominik on her hip and leaned over to whisper to Elfriede. “Maybe this wasn’t a good idea. We’ll make him mad. Then I’ll never see Teodor.”
“Don’t worry.” But she co
uldn’t stop the swarm of butterflies that battered the inside of her belly.
Within minutes of Fräulein Wurtz entering Erich’s office, he stormed through the door. “What is the meaning of this? What is so urgent that you take me away from important business? I was on the phone with Berlin. I don’t have time for your foolishness.”
Elfriede smoothed down her skirt. “You have never shown me your office.”
“That’s your important business? You’re nothing more than an addle-brained simpleton. Worthless. And what is she doing here? I forbade her from stepping outside. Ever.”
“A friend sent a large package from home. It’s heavy, and I couldn’t carry it alone. You don’t want me to hurt myself, do you? That’s why I needed her to come with me.”
“You are wasting my time. Go home.”
“Fine. I’ll send her to the post to get the package and straight home. But I’m not leaving until you show me your office. Please? I have no idea what it looks like in here.” He wasn’t cooperating like she’d thought he would.
“Out of the question. You aren’t to leave her to wander the streets alone. Get out of my sight. Now. Both of you. I have to call Berlin back and try to explain what was more important than them.” Erich turned on his heel, back into his office, and slammed the door.
Elfriede slumped and sighed. So much for her grand plan. “Come on. Let’s go.”
Natia gave her a half smile. Together, they turned and left the building. “Dziękuję Ci for trying.”
“But you didn’t see him.”
“You tried. That was nice of you. Pan Fromm wasn’t going to leave me alone.”
“Nie. It was a bad idea.” What had she been thinking? She didn’t have the brains to come up with a simple plan so Natia could visit her husband.
“Most wives don’t see them. That’s fine.” But her features sagged. She closed her eyes for a second before opening them again.
They continued their walk along the outside of the factory. Another idea struck Elfriede. “You sing for him.”
“He might be working.”
“Just try.”
Natia handed Dominik to Elfriede and stood under the middle window in the long line of panes in the factory walls.
Elfriede didn’t understand the words that Natia sang, but the rising and falling of the notes, the passion in Natia’s voice, the glow of her face spoke of her love for her husband.
Oh, to have such a love. Something Elfriede would never know. Without the care of a husband or a child, her heart would remain empty forever.
She kissed Dominik’s cheek. Here was someone who loved her. He drove away a small piece of her longing. The child was the only good thing in her life.
One she would cling to no matter what.
Natia stood beneath Teodor’s window. Would he be in the barracks in the middle of the day? Most likely not. Still, she had a chance, slim as it was. A chance to sing to him, to share her heart with him. To hear his reply.
Thro’ the dewy valley murmuring brooks meand’ring,
Bells a-tinkling gaily, tell where herds are wand’ring,
Bright the sun is glowing, green are wood and meadow,
All around o’erflowing, life in sun and shadow,
I alone am lonely, mourning heavyhearted,
For the days that only all too soon departed.
Her heart almost burst from her chest. How much longer could she stand this?
She stood, peering at that window for the longest time. Dominik chattered behind her. Minutes ticked away. Natia’s neck stiffened.
But no answer came.
A cold wind blew through her soul. She fell to her knees. “Why, God? Why? I can’t do this anymore.”
Dominik whimpered. Elfriede touched her shoulder. “I am sorry. We should not have come.”
“I can’t do this. Don’t you see, Lord? I can’t do this. Without them, what good am I? I don’t have anyone to sing for. My children, my husband, my parents, my siblings, all gone. Have you turned your back on the entire world?” A low keening replaced the music on her lips.
For a long while, she crouched on the road and mourned for all she’d lost. For all that would never be returned to her. For all the crosses that marked the graves of loved ones.
“What is that racket?”
Pan Fromm.
Somewhere deep inside Natia, a dam burst. She stood and faced him. “Where are they?” She screeched the words and fought to keep from flinging herself at him. “Where are my father and sister? I want to see their graves.”
“What are you talking about?”
“My father and sister are dead. And you killed them.” She pointed at the monster before her.
Pan Fromm reached out and choked her.
Elfriede shouted at her husband and wrestled him away.
He spat on the ground. “Go home. Right now. Don’t ever come back.”
Elfriede grabbed Dominik and Natia, and they ran.
Teodor’s legs ached and his arms burned as he reached the top of the stairs. Long ago he’d lost count of how many times he traversed these steps. Heavy boxes weighing him down as he carried them to the train, fatigue pressing on him as he climbed for more.
More parts headed for Germany to feed their voracious war machine. When would it end? Rumors floated like chaff in the wind. But could he believe any of them? He picked up several more boxes, stumbled downstairs and outside, and peered at the eastern sky, as if he might see the Russians pouring over the hill. But nothing. A few birds twittered in the trees, somewhere in the distance children played and laughed, and the train whistle carried across the kilometers.
He needed to hurry if he was to get everything downstairs in time. He stopped for a moment to catch his breath.
“What’s wrong?”
Jerzy.
“Nothing.” Teodor headed inside the building.
“Wait. You don’t look well.”
“You’re one to talk.” Though, as Teodor studied him, something struck him. Jerzy, still thin, no longer bore the hollow cheeks and vacant eyes as the other prisoners. “He’s giving you food.”
“He’s releasing me next week.”
“I wouldn’t count on that scoundrel.”
“He is. I’ve signed the Volksdeutsche agreement.”
“Why? Why turn your back on your country now? It’s only a matter of months before there will be no more Germans in Poland. Our land will belong to us once again. You’ll be forced to leave, branded as a traitor.”
“If the rumors are true. They might be nothing more than hopes on the breeze. Today they are here, tomorrow they have vanished.”
“I choose to believe them. The guards are nervous, jumping at the slightest provocation. Nie, the Russians are on the doorstep. I feel it in my bones.”
“Or that might be fatigue. Whatever the case, you’ll still be here and I’ll be home, in my wife’s arms.”
Teodor bit the inside of his cheek. Oh, to have Natia hold him. To be home.
“You can have it too. You can go back to your farm.”
“Nie.”
“Just go to Untersturmführer Fromm. Talk to him. Tell him you’re ready to sign the agreement. He’ll punch your ticket to Piosenka.”
Home. The word flowed over him like a melody. Peace and quiet. Love and laughter. Work and rest.
“Get her out of this place. Take your wife and resume the life you had before.”
Life before. They’d worked hard. They didn’t have much, but they had each other. In those days, they didn’t appreciate it. Now they would. And perhaps this time, the Lord would give them a child. Even just one. What joy would be theirs if the Lord fulfilled that request. Teodor might burst from the thought alone. The pull of their little town, their friends, their church tugged at him. Every fiber in his being told him to sign the paper.
For Natia’s sake. So she would be free from worry, so she would be healthy and happy. Could he pick up the pen and sign it for her?
&nbs
p; “Do it, Teodor. We’ll ride the train together.”
Should he?
Maybe. He could force his fingers to pick up the pen, to scratch his name on the paper.
It was well enough for Jerzy to sign, to pass secrets to Untersturmführer Fromm. More than likely, he wouldn’t survive the winter either way. He might as well go home and kiss his wife and children once more. A final good-bye.
Teodor hefted two more boxes loaded with parts and picked his way down the stairs. The world spun around him. He closed his eyes but kept going. The train whistle blew louder.
Next week he could be on a homeward-bound train. But was his comfort worth betraying his country?
He stepped outside, his almost soleless boots crunching on the gravel as he staggered toward the tracks. Out there, somewhere, was home.
Home.
But what kind of home would he have if he signed the paper?
And then a haunting sound met him. A song. Natia?
I alone am lonely, mourning heavyhearted,
For the days that only all too soon departed.
Her sweet, honey-like voice was too unique to be confused. It was his Natia, singing for him. The words broke off. There was more, but she didn’t sing it.
“Get going, Palinski. This isn’t a holiday.” The guard jabbed Teodor with the butt of his gun, hard enough to push the breath from his lungs, to bruise his ribs. Tak, the Russians were near. These days, even a brief pause in work brought swift retribution.
He shuffled forward. Sobbing. That’s what he heard. Heart-wrenching, soul-clenching. Nie, sweet love, don’t cry so. What could he do to take her pain away?
Her wails tore at him. Wails so much like his mother’s when the Nazis came in 1939. Sobs that haunted him.
He’d never forget that day. “Open up, open up. We demand entrance, or we will break down the door.” The harsh voices of the Nazis had spoken his beautiful native tongue.
Mama reached for him and clung to his arm. “Don’t let them in. I’m afraid. Afraid they will take you, and I will never see you again. What would I do without you, my beloved son?”
Teodor freed himself from her grasp. “You heard them, Mama. They will enter one way or another. Let them come. We have nothing to hide.”