Many people began to believe the Nazi party was this leadership. The party’s power grew and tensions increased in Munich. Facing reality, Eli and Aaron both knew a rebellion to the Nazi party would cause problems for them in the city and at their work. So political discord became a whisper, a nuance left in the shadows where few could see its disturbance. Adolf Hitler offered decision and a better future to the six million unemployed and, like a stranger tempting a child with candy if he would get into his car, few could taste its poison while savoring its delectable flavors.
Aaron could taste the flavors of the eggs which sent him walking half asleep to the kitchen, where he took in a giant whiff over the stove. Eli scraped a few eggs onto a plate and handed it to Aaron. The two ate standing up, clad in pajamas in the kitchen. Friday morning grew late, but neither had to report to work because of the New Year holidays.
Friday, January 8, 1932
Eli remembered this day well. The detailed flower print of the pale blue dress Rebecca wore stained his mind as she swung around the banister on her porch. Her dress lifted with the currents of the cold wind still trying to separate from winter and grow to spring. The spring flowers on the lawn began to bloom again, reminding them both a new year was born. He remembered this moment more passionately than others because, on this banister under the changing skies of Munich, he realized he loved her.
He walked like a heavenly string lifted him high off the ground. Her baby blue eyes complimented the blue in her dress and the sky. Her hands clutched the metal bars as she played ballerina on her tiptoes and swirled across the porch in her beige thick snow socks. Eli enjoyed watching her spin like a child on her birthday.
She often played like this, but in this moment, a primal hunger saturated him, and only Rebecca could quench it. He grasped her hands mid-spin and spun her such that her face and his touched nose to nose. Rebecca giggled, lifting her hand to cover her laugh and then Eli took her hand and held her cold fingers inside of his warm hands.
“Rebecca?”
Her eyes glistened at her name on his lips. “Yes?”
“I love you,” he said succinctly and sure. Nothing now could be more certain than he loved her. In this city and country where finances were failing, culture was crumbling, and government was grappling for decision, his love for her would not waver. He wasn’t sure how it happened, how he had fallen in love. He had never loved anyone this deeply. Perhaps it was the way she accepted everything about him, or the way they felt as ease with each other, or perhaps it was the uncommon manner in which she carried herself, courteous, and yet free.
Now his gaze searched her face while his heart waited.
“I love you, too.” Her words filled him with a new sensation. He lifted her into his arms and swung her around the porch for all peering eyes below to see. Rebecca tilted her head back, letting her hair catch the wind and then moved her lips to Eli’s soft mouth.
The passion from their kiss erupted inside both of them with an instant flutter of their bodies from the public porch into the privacy of Rebecca’s apartment. She brushed her cheek over his chin, clad with a hint of stubble. Eli glided her into her room with his hands moving up her legs and under her dress, eyes intense on one another as they fell to the bed like currents on the ocean, crashing into each other.
Into each other’s hair, into each other’s necks, into each other’s lips, into each other’s legs, intertwined and lost so that no one could make out where one body ended and the other began until they journeyed like seamen into each other’s seas and the sounds of sweetest rapture left their bodies sweating on the sheets. Rebecca, in swoon like fashion, leaned her limp body against Eli’s on top of the sheets, legs still interlaced with a sheet tangled between them. They laid there until the sun fell behind the horizon and the Shabbos began. Then in thought, Rebecca rolled on top of Eli and propped her body up with her elbows against his stomach.
“When will I meet your family?” Rebecca implored with more intensity in her eyes than in her voice. “You’ve met mine.” She concluded with a fact as any good lawyer would do. Eli couldn’t help but smile at her persistence, enjoying the affection.
“You will, soon. I’ve told my mama I’m seeing someone and she wants me to invite you to the Pesach, Passover this April at her house. You’ll meet everyone there and even have a taste of some good old-fashioned Jewish cooking.”
Rebecca bounced up, elated at Eli’s words, then leaned over to nibble on his naked naval. He giggled and instinctively pulled back at the tickle before drawing to her.
“Is your family upset you’ve missed synagogue recently because of me?”
“My father’s friends told him I’ve been neglecting Shabbos and he asked me about it. I was honest with him. I told him I was dating someone and sometimes Friday and Saturday are the only times we have together.”
“And he understood?” Rebecca asked. Eli scrunched his face and uttered something slurred between yes and no.
“My mama doesn’t understand why the both of us can’t just go to synagogue together. I told her it is not something you’re accustomed to doing.”
“And she understood?”
“And then my father insisted on asking me a rhetorical question involving something to the effect of what kind of Jew works on Shabbos and then I told him.”
“You told him?” Rebecca’s body tensed, knowing what prisons her own mother had built around her life and knowing Eli’s father did much the same.
“I told him, she isn’t Jewish, and he just stared at me for a few moments with his mouth ajar and then my mama interrupted and told me to invite you to Passover dinner, that way we all could meet you.”
“And then they understood?” Rebecca’s hopes lingered with the words repeated.
“And then they all wanted to meet you,” Eli said with a higher pitch in his tone and tickled her sides. “My oldest sister seemed most excited about the idea.” Rebecca giggled and then the stern expression returned to her face.
“Sounds like an intense conversation.”
“It was, but not to fear. Everything will be fine.”
“What are their names?” Rebecca asked, “Your sisters names, your mother and father’s names?”
“Ah,” Eli’s eyes grew wide, “Sarah is my oldest sister. Miriam is my youngest sister and Leah is in the middle. My mother’s name is Deborah and my father’s name is Ezekiel.” Rebecca’s body shifted off Eli’s chest to his side, plopping comfortably onto the thick sheets. Her face lost its pink shade from the friction they shared and her gaze fixed itself on the ceiling. “Are you alright?” Eli tended to her with his fingers raking through her long hair stretched over the sheets such that it gave the illusion of waves on the ocean.
“I’m fine. I’m just trying to digest it all.”
“It’s really nothing to worry about. They will love you. I know they will. I love you, how could they not?” Eli squished himself close to her and she smiled halfheartedly until he tickled her stomach again and she bellowed out a scream-laugh that could be heard upstairs. The early evening became late evening and the night belonged to only the two of them lying like branches twisted on her bed under the stars of Munich, innocent of the country choking around them.
* * *
Saturday morning newspapers piled up around the city block, waiting to be read by the many still asleep. Eli walked downstairs early in the morning to collect his paper from his mailbox. The news was never something he wanted to read anymore, but he knew ignoring it didn’t make it go away and he had to be prepared for whatever came. Eli skimmed the front page, reading the recent politics which make him throw the paper to the bedroom floor.
Adolf Hitler received a telegram from Chancellor Bruening, inviting him to come to Berlin to discuss the possibility of extending Hindenburg's present term. The invitation delighted Hitler.
“What is it, my darling Eli?” She said darling with a smile, trying to console his sudden disturbance of serenity.
�
�The President of Germany welcomes Hitler’s visit; he welcomes the wolf to the flock of sheep.”
“What are you talking about?” Rebecca lifted the paper off the floor and read the news. “I heard from my friend at the paper that Hitler told Rudolph Hess he has them in his pocket, because they recognize him as a partner in their negotiations.”
“And yet you won’t find the press printing that.” Eli raised his hands. “They’re cowards, all of them. They won’t print what’s really going on, who the man really is.”
“The Nazi’s stormtroopers can hurt the press too, people with families. Everyone has to be careful. No one is going to put their head on the chopping block.” She rose off the bed and rubbed her hands over his shoulder. “You know how violent the Nazis can get.”
“And if no one is willing or strong enough to control them, what will become of the country? Hindenburg invites him into the political arena, the Chancellor sent as messenger.” Eli’s tone became sharp, serious like she had never seen him.
“Hindenburg is a fair-minded man.” Rebecca cuddled Eli in her arms and then turned his face to her own. “Look at me. Hindenburg is not letting Hitler run the show, but he also knows Hitler has many people on his side. Hindenburg has to consider the influence Hitler has. They’re just political games. It doesn’t mean Hitler wins. We can trust Hindenburg in the presidency. He will protect this country from radical madness.”
“But for how much longer?” Eli stood next to Rebecca with his eyes intensifying and his words more certain. “There is already talk of Hitler wanting to run for the Presidency. What if he wins?”
“He won’t. He can’t. He doesn’t have enough support.”
“Not yet, but his support grows every day,” Eli said. Rebecca saw the weight of the country falling on Eli’s shoulders and she threw her hands around his face; her eyes lightened and widened.
“We should go see a movie.” Her head nodded and her lips became perky. The color in her skin flushed pink with her enthusiasm.
Eli half smirked and half frowned, “You ought to be a lawyer. You’re good with distraction.”
“So, that’s a yes?”
“What’s showing?”
“Two Kinds of Women,” she said with a high pitched tone like she wanted to see it. “Scarface,” she looked at Eli and shook her head no, “and the Jan Kiepura movie, Das Lied Einer Nacht.” With the last movie listed, Rebecca sauntered to the bathtub until Eli chased her and she raced the rest of the way to the tub. Rebecca leapt in first, pulling off her nightgown, and snapping her hands together as if she had won a race. Eli poured in the water, watching it slowly drizzle over her hair, her breasts, her legs and then hopped in with her, sitting with his legs wrapped around her waist. His legs were a fortress around her, keeping their love strong and holding it sturdy against the brutality of the city.
Afterward, they took Eli’s car after he insisted on driving and pulled into the parking lot behind the theatre. The short line indicated not many were spending money on movie tickets. Standing in line, down the block they watched a fight break out between two men, one dressed in ripped brown slacks and a dirty white shirt and the other in a business suit. The poor man threw a fist into the other’s face, and the business man stumbled back for a moment until repositioning himself and then returned a fist, knocking the poor man in the nose and to the ground.
“What’s going on?” Rebecca asked.
“He probably lost his job,” Eli said matter-of-factly, and walked to the ticket window.
“That’s so sad. He appears so desperate.”
“Desperate times.” Eli glanced over the movie titles, trying to distract her and himself from the reality around them, “What do you want to see? Scarface?” He raised his brows up and down with the title.
“I’m more of a Two Kinds of Women girl.” Rebecca replied and Eli winced.
“How about the Jan Kiepura movie, Das Lied Einer Nacht?” He nudged her shoulder and she smiled at the idea.
“I do love Joseph Schmidt’s tenor.”
“Settled then.” Eli grabbed the tickets at the counter and followed the worn burgundy carpet to the theatre room. A chill ran through the dark room since the heater had been turned off to save money. Eli took off his long, brown coat and wrapped it around Rebecca before they sat. She snuggled with his coat pulled over her long, beige skirt, white blouse and sweater, burrowing her head into his shoulder and neck.
As Joseph Schmidt sung Heute Nact oder nie, Tonight or Never, Rebecca’s eyes filled with teardrops rolling down her cheeks and she rubbed her nose. The sounds of his high pitched voice, soft and melodious, saturated the theatre and touched her soul, making her feel like he was in the room with them. Eli forgot the stresses of politics and all the backhanded maneuvering Hitler and his party were guilty of while he sat in his seat, listening to Joseph Schmidt’s sweet words to tonight or never.
Heute Nacht oder nie sollst du mir sagen nur das Eine: Ob du mich liebst.
Heute Nacht oder nie will ich dich fragen, ob du deine Liebe mir gibst.
Heute Nacht oder nie will ich für dich allein nur singen bis morgen früh nur die Melodie: Heute Nacht oder nie.
Tonight or never you are to say to me only one: Whether you love me.
Tonight or never I want to ask you whether you give me your love.
Tonight or never I want to sing for you alone to tomorrow morning only the melody:
Tonight or never.
* * *
Next weekend, dark rain clouds filled the Munich weather with gloom and Eli went into work Sunday to review documents for an upcoming court trial. He shuffled papers on his desk, filing them into neat piles, lost in his thoughts until his father walked in.
Ezekiel Levin, tall and muscular, carried himself like a king with a black briefcase in his left hand. The case involved a claim made by a customer directed at a dry cleaning shop around the corner. The customer insisted the shop owner deceived him in how much he was owed for cleaning the suit. The client claimed the shop owner charged him twice the amount of his other customers.
The client was also a friend of the family and, justly, his father took the case, though he knew the difficulty in proving it in court, especially now that Hitler had gained so much fervor behind his ideas and party. No one wanted to see a Jew getting more money, but his father insisted on doing what he knew was right and he believed the dry cleaner swindled his client.
“Eli, do you have the receipts ready?”
Eli bundled the files into his folder and handed them to Ezekiel. “Do you think we have enough to get his money back?”
“Even if we do, will it be enough?” Ezekiel said, always with realism in his words. “We will put up a good fight.” He took the folder out of his son’s hands and placed it into his briefcase. Eli followed his father through the halls of his office, halls his father helped to build himself in renovations. They went to Ezekiel’s office where he retrieved a file from his desk and then the two of them walked to an exit to the parking lot.
“Let me run this to the court office for you. I’ll hand it to Ekkehard and then we can argue the case Monday morning,” Eli offered. His father nodded, pensive in thought.
“I’ll wait here for you and then we’ll head home.” Home to Ezekiel meant the outskirts of Munich, a large house built for a large family, now empty of their son. Home to Eli meant the apartment building in central Munich where he and Rebecca shared many Friday and Saturday nights.
Eli drove with cautious speed through the intersections and roads until approaching the courthouse, then parked behind the building. He raced up the steps and handed the file to Ekkehard, the clerk who worked for Ezekiel Levin, responsible for organizing all the paperwork for each case of the Levin Law Offices. The clerk ensured all parties had received their disclosed information before proceedings.
But Monday morning found the office in shambles, with everyone running to and fro and a few shouting, trying to find Eli’s father. Eli grabbed the a
rm of Kevin, a tall, light haired older fellow who wore glasses.
“What’s going on?”
“The papers you gave to the clerk yesterday never found their way into the hands of the defendants, and now the papers are missing. We’ve been searching everywhere trying to find them.”
“But I gave them to Ekkehard yesterday evening before seven,” Eli said in defense.
“He claims to have never gotten them,” Kevin insisted and, for a moment, Eli doubted himself until his father surprised him from behind and patted him on the shoulder.
“I saw my son drive off to the courthouse myself. The son of a bitch Ekkehard lost them!” His father’s stern words took Eli aback, since most of his life he never heard his father swear. The sturdy and strong man never lost his temper. “I’d venture to bet he lost them deliberately,” Ezekiel demanded, but the halls were silent of supporters, never uttering the subtle ways the injustices of the Nazi party seeped into their lives. “Bought off at a minuscule price, no doubt!”
Eli saw no way to win the court case now, not without the receipts. They had a slim chance with the information, because of so few fair judges left from political and social pressures. But now, without the evidence, there was no ounce of hope at winning and Eli knew that itched inside every vein of his father.
“We’ll get them next time, Papa,” Eli said, knowing that was unlikely, too.
Sunday, February 14, 1932
Valentine’s Day was a big day for Eli. He wanted to do something special for Rebecca and met her early Sunday morning to tell her she would have to let him blindfold her. She did of course, and Eli guided her down the steps to his car and then drove her to an unknown location. He walked with her over soft grass until pausing and sliding off the blindfold. A wood picnic table under a large cascading tree sat next to a blue green lake. Two lit candles sat in the middle of the worn wood table with two plates of delicacies.
The Day the Flowers Died Page 7