The Melody of the Soul

by Liz Tolsma

  The question burning in Anna’s chest flew from her lips. “Why? I don’t understand. Do you? Any of you? How could she give her life for people who are almost strangers to her?”

  Babička pushed her mug away from her. “Better love has no man than this, that he lay his life down for his friends.”

  “That’s from the Bible.” Anna remembered the passage.

  “Yes, from John 15.”

  David finger-combed his wild brown hair. “I don’t see it. What is the motivation? No one does anything without some driving force behind him. Many times, that force is self-preservation. That’s what moves us all. It’s what kept me alive in Terezín. What keeps me alive today. Simply moving forward, waking up with each sunrise. Life is nothing more than that. And when that will to live wanes, we die.”

  Anna longed to cover her ears, to drown out David’s philosophical babble.

  Babička patted her grandson’s hand. “My boy, it’s so much more than that. Remember what your mother and father taught you as a small child.”

  Another knock at the door. This one almost as wild as the last, but singular.

  Had Hauptsturmführer Jaeger returned?

  Paní Karas peered around the blackout shades. “No truck. No shouting. It’s not him. This fellow is small. Stay where you are. I’ll get rid of him.” She slipped through the door.

  A moment later, she returned with a short, bespectacled man.

  Georg. The man from the flat the night they’d fled Prague. The one who loved Patricie.

  “Come in, come in.” Paní Karas bustled about, pulling another chair to the table, pouring another cup of tea. Calm, even in the face of her husband’s arrest.

  Georg joined them. Lines radiated from his youthful eyes. “I’ve come to warn you.”

  “Hauptsturmführer Jaeger was already here.” Horst eyed him.

  “Then I am too late. They raided my apartment when I was away. I had lists of homes where we hid Jews. This one wasn’t on it, because I never used it before you, but I thought maybe the others gave away this location.”

  “That’s how he knew where to find us.” Anna warmed her hands on the teacup.

  “I’m afraid so. I never went back inside, but informed our contacts they were in danger. They raided several homes and found some ponorky. You are my last stop. The farthest away. I thought I might make it here in time. Where is Patricie? I want to see her.”

  Silence enveloped the room. Anna took in a breath around the lump in her throat. How would she ever find the words?

  “Patricie . . . we were, I mean, all there. Hauptmann Engel and her and me. And she . . .” Anna couldn’t do it. Couldn’t bring the words to her lips.

  Horst rubbed his face. “Stefan was about to pierce the haystack with bayonets. We were dead no matter what. Slečna Kadlecová surrendered and managed to get him to leave without any further searching. We owe our lives to her. All of us.”

  “Is she . . . ?” Georg fisted his hands until his knuckles turned white.

  “Ne. They took her. Somewhere. I don’t know.” Horst sighed.

  Anna wiped away a tear. “How can we ever repay her?”

  David clutched his chest, his lungs burning, as Georg absorbed the news about Patricie. First, his eyes widened, then they shimmered with tears. Then, the most curious emotion of all. Georg smiled.

  Smiled.

  Was the man deranged? Did he derive some sadistic pleasure from another’s pain?

  Georg removed his glasses. “I once asked her if she would be willing to give up her life for the cause. For a moment, she questioned me. But her faith shone through. In as clear of a voice as I ever heard, she answered she would. I’m proud of her.”

  David shook his head. “How can you say such a thing? Don’t you want her to live? To be free?”

  “Of course I do. I didn’t wish this for her. I told her to stay out of it, but she refused. She wanted to help, needed to help. The Lord called her, and she answered. He called her again today, to make the sacrifice of which we spoke.

  “I pray they aren’t torturing her. That’s the hardest part of all, what makes me tremble for her. I don’t want her to suffer. Anything but that. If she dies, if they kill her, I have the assurance that she will be at peace with the Lord. And that’s the most wonderful thing that could happen to a person.”

  Anna clutched her teacup’s handle until she almost snapped it in two. “That’s what she told Hauptsturmführer Jaeger. That she felt sorry for him because he doesn’t have a right standing with God. I wouldn’t be surprised if she continued witnessing to him in the truck. If she still is talking to him.”

  “That’s my Patricie. That’s why I love her so.”

  “And yet, you’re not upset about her loss. I don’t believe you.” David coughed harder than he had in weeks. The damp air of his cellar hideout had done him no good.

  Paní Karas handed him a glass of water. He downed every last drop.

  “Yes, I long for her. Ache without her. I’m worried to death about her. What they might be doing to my beautiful love. If I could take her place, I would.”

  Anna and Horst nodded. Babička sipped her tea and cleared her throat. “That’s what she did for us. Took our place. Just what Jesus did for us.”

  “I don’t need a lecture.” Why had he spoken with such harshness to his grandmother? “I’m sorry for snapping at you. But you know I don’t believe what the rest of you do. It’s a bunch of nonsense. We have the here and now, and that’s all. Nothing beyond it. Only ourselves to rely on.”

  Babička’s pale gray eyes took on a dreamy quality. “You are in a much worse place than Slečna Kadlecová. I worry more about you than her. One day you will find out you are wrong, and then what? It will be too late. At that point, there will be no going back, no chance to do life over. What a sad and sorry state. How do you live and move in this evil world without the assurance of more? Of salvation that leads to ultimate joy and happiness and freedom from pain? I know it will end soon, and I can’t wait.”

  David scraped back his chair and paced the room. He didn’t want to think about Babička’s words. A god, the God, frightened him. But he didn’t believe in God, right? So why should it? He couldn’t explain. He rubbed his forehead.

  “Think about what I said.” Babička stood and shuffled to his side, embracing him as if he were still a little boy. “Dear Lord, please open David’s eyes and let him see.”

  Her prayer pricked him. Wounded his soul. Excited him. He gave her a gentle squeeze.

  She released him, yawning. “It’s time for this old woman to get some sleep.” She and Paní Karas drifted away to bed.

  But the four young people remained at the table, the gas lamp hissing overhead. Georg turned his mug round and round. “Despite what Patricie did, this place is no longer a haven. If they torture her, they might get information from her. Or from Pan Karas. We have to prepare for that eventuality.”

  “They could return?” David struggled for breath.

  “I would be surprised if they didn’t.”

  “We have to move, then?” Horst kneaded the back of his neck.

  “Yes, I’m afraid so.”

  “But where do we go? Is there anywhere safe in this insane world?”

  “Out here, you haven’t had much news. The Allies are advancing ever closer, as are the Soviets.”

  “Not good news for me.” Horst flashed a wry smile.

  “I agree. We can’t allow you to fall into Russian hands. They won’t see a man who saved lives. They’ll see nothing more than a useless German.”

  David tensed. Horst might lash out. Might come down on Georg for the slur. But he didn’t. He nodded.

  “I want to move you all west. As close to the British and Americans as possible. Getting you over the border isn’t going to happen, not with the battle raging. It’s best to hide there and wait it out.”

  Anna bit her lip. “But Babička isn’t strong enough to survive another trip. T
he one here was almost too much for her.”

  David’s chest ached. Every day, his body lost strength. “I’m too frail. Moving isn’t an option for me, either.”

  “And without Babička or David, I won’t go.”

  “Then you will remain in danger.” Georg shifted in his seat. “I can’t protect you further. My operation is compromised. I won’t stay here, and I can’t come back. There will be no more rations, no more help. You’ll be on your own.”

  What if something happened to his sister? David didn’t want that. One member of their family deserved to survive this catastrophe. “Go, Anna. Go on without me. I’ll take care of Babička. Live. For all of us, live.”

  “Good morning, Paní Karas.” Horst entered the kitchen where Maria stood at the stove.

  “Or afternoon.”

  “Sleep came hard. How are you holding up?”

  “I’m just praying Slečna Kadlecová will be able to convince that man to release Karel. We’ve been married for forty-five years. I don’t remember life without him.”

  His parents’ marriage wasn’t one to be imitated. Until he met Karel and Maria, he never believed that a love like that could exist between two people after such a long time. “We’re praying for him.”

  “I see that same look in your eyes for Slečna Zadoková as Karel has for me.”

  He sat at the table and accepted the cup of tea she brought him. “What kind of look is that?”

  “You love her.”

  “Is there any use in denying it?”

  “She told her grandmother and me what you shared with her.”

  He spluttered as the tea went down the wrong pipe. “She did?”

  Maria nodded.

  “Why haven’t you kicked me out?”

  “She’s hurt. I’ve watched her, and trust doesn’t come easy for her. But she loves you.”

  “Haven’t I done enough to prove to her I’m not like that anymore?”

  “It’s not about what you do. She needs time. And you by her side, not giving up on her.”

  “Are you giving up on Karel?”

  “Never.”

  He rose and squeezed Maria’s shoulder. “Děkuji. You are a wise woman. Do you know where Anna is?”

  “I saw her head to the barn earlier.”

  Horst hurried to the warm stable, the place that had sheltered and saved them last night. Anna stood staring at the hayloft.

  “Anna?”

  She spun around, grasping the front of her faded, flowered dress. “You frightened me.”

  She’d had to leave all her dresses, all of them blue, behind in Prague. She looked different, frailer, in this one. “I’m sorry.”

  “I didn’t hear you come in.”

  “Did you sleep at all?”

  “A little. How about you?”

  “I did manage to doze for a while.”

  “Good.”

  “You’re not going to leave, are you?”

  She shook her head, her eyes dark and tired. “Ne. Not while David is alive. I can’t go without him. Other than Babička, he’s all I have left. You brought him to me. It would be wrong to leave him now.”

  “I understand.”

  “Do you think Hauptsturmführer Jaeger will be back?”

  “That’s hard to say.”

  “That means he will.”

  “Maybe not.”

  “We have to leave it in God’s hands. I’m weary of it all.”

  “If I could only help you.”

  “There you are.”

  Horst jumped at Georg’s voice. “What is it?”

  “Slečna Zadoková needs to come to the house. It’s her brother.”

  Anna shrunk in an instant, as frail as her grandmother and lone surviving sibling. A strong wind might blow her away. She brushed passed him.

  “He will sustain you.” But did he really know? God, why now? Why at all?

  Only the lowing of the cow answered him.

  He followed Anna and Georg back the cozy house. “I don’t understand. When he went to bed a few hours ago, he was fine. How did he get ill so fast?”

  Georg shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  Anna rubbed her temple. “He shouldn’t have been in that cellar. We might have squeezed him in the little nook with Babička. Breathing that damp air brought this on.” She ran up the stairs.

  Horst caught Georg at the bottom of the steps. “Is it that bad?”

  “I’m no doctor. He’s pale and sweating. Why did you ever bring him back to her? He’s dying.”

  “I knew that when I rescued him. But she needed a few more moments with her brother. To say her goodbyes to him. And he has been feeling better.”

  “Who knows the ways of the Lord? But she needs you right now. I don’t know why, but she does.”

  “Děkuji.”

  “Against good reason, she trusts you.”

  “That means the world to me.”

  “Don’t let it go to your head. I’m going to keep watching you.”

  “I thought you were leaving.”

  “And so I am. But while I’m here, I’ll keep you under surveillance. How does that strike you?” Georg narrowed his eyes and stared at Horst.

  “You do what you have to. And so will I.” He marched up the flight of stairs to the first door to the right of the landing. A chill permeated the tiny bedroom.

  Anna stood on one side of the narrow mattress, her grandmother on the other. David lay propped in between them, his face the same pale shade as the sheets, his lips as blue as the cloudless sky. “I woke up cold. Then hot. Couldn’t stop coughing.”

  Anna leaned over her brother and smoothed away a lock of dark brown hair from his forehead. “Hush, you don’t have to speak now. Save your strength.”

  “I don’t have much to save.”

  The older woman stroked her grandson’s hand. “Then you listen well to me.”

  Even Horst came to attention at her words.

  “You know what’s right and wrong. I don’t need to spend time telling you again. When you were little, you loved God and let everyone know. You evangelized the entire neighborhood. Then you grew up and allowed the world to influence you.”

  “I did. I know I did.”

  She clucked her tongue. “You remember those lessons you learned from me, and your grandfather, and your parents.”

  “There has to be more.”

  “There is.” Anna nodded. “Máma and Táta knew it. So did Jana and Lada. I’m glad you do, too.”

  David coughed, blood spilling from his lips. His grandmother, with trembling hands, dabbed it away. For a long moment, he struggled to catch his breath.

  “That’s enough talk for now.” Anna pulled the blanket to his chin. “You rest.”

  “I’ll think. I’ll remember.”

  So would Horst.

  The old woman kissed David’s forehead. “I’m glad. Only Jesus.”

  Silence descended on the room as David drifted off to sleep, but no one moved. Only the ticking of the round alarm clock on the bedside table filled the air.

  “There has to be more.” David’s words echoed in Horst’s mind.

  And there was. Like David’s family had taught him the way of the Lord, so had Horst’s mother taught him.

  The darkness of Kristallnacht blotted out much of that. Pushed it into the deepest recesses of his soul.

  But David’s words had unleashed a flood inside Horst. There had to be more than just this life. This horrible, miserable, rotten life. If the world could be so evil and awful, how much worse could hell be? He’d had enough of misery and suffering already.

  And there had to be more than guilt and penance. Like a distant echo, a memory flitted at the edge of his consciousness. Someone telling him, maybe preaching to him, that you could never earn your way to heaven.

  He leaned against the wall and sucked in a breath. He wasn’t good enough. He could never be good enough. No matter how many brave and heroic gestures he made, it would never be
enough.

  He alone couldn’t make up for all he’d done. How he’d become like his father.

  Only Jesus.

  Oh Lord, what a fool I’ve been. I can’t earn Your forgiveness. But I plead for it. Grant it to me. Cleanse me of my guilt. Wash me whiter than snow. Help me to rest in You and in You only.

  A sunbeam slanted through the window, landing at Horst’s feet.

  For the first time since that awful night, a lightness and a peace settled in his soul. He’d come home.

  Like Frau Doubeková, Mutti would be glad. Glad that Horst remembered where salvation and freedom came from.

  David’s lungs rattled as he breathed.

  Paní Karas entered the room. “A bit of broth for him?”

  Anna slipped out.

  Horst followed her downstairs. “Anna, wait.”

  “What?”

  “I know this is hard on you.”

  “Do you? Your family is alive and thriving.”

  “Have you so soon forgotten that I lost a brother?”

  “And I’ve lost everyone. Everyone who mattered to me.”

  “You have your grandmother. And me. I hope I mean something to you.”

  “I don’t know, I just don’t know. I can’t make sense of the world anymore. It’s like looking through a kaleidoscope. Nothing more than broken pieces of glass that don’t fit together.”

  “But if you turn the scope, a beautiful picture appears.”

  “If only they hadn’t smashed his violin. If only.”

  He touched her upper arms. She flinched, so he backed off. “I know.”

  “Please, not now. I can’t . . .” She fled to her room.

  Horst balled his fists. She was right, in a way. How would life ever be beautiful again? Maybe he shouldn’t have rescued David. His being here only brought her more pain. It forced her to watch her brother die. She would never forget.

  He paced the small living room. Paní Karas entered from the kitchen. “Come with me.” She motioned for Horst to follow. “I have a job that will help you clear your head.”

  She led him to the back of the house, to an area protected by a stand of evergreen trees, away from prying eyes. A stack of wood waited to be split.

  “Is this your way of getting your chores done?”

  “Not at all. Work out your frustrations.”