Forbidden Love

by Mary Hagen

  Hannah glanced at him, surprised he had money. “I’d like to buy Mamma a scarf for her birthday. With everything happening, she hasn’t had a birthday present for years.”

  Papa stood, unlocked his safe, and removed a black metal box. “This is not a good idea, shopping, but I know you won’t listen to me. I’ve money put aside for us if it should it become necessary to bribe officials.” He handed Hannah a small amount. “I hope this will help. Please, never tell this to your mother, but should you need it, it’s here for you.”

  “You’ve never mentioned this. Where did it come from?” Hannah stuffed the money in the pocket of her skirt and thanked him. “I feel guilty taking the money when we need it for food, but Mamma needs something special.”

  Papa nodded in agreement. “Our garden supplied us with vegetables for canning, but meat prices are outrageous with the orders from the Nazis not to sell to us. The black market robs us.” Papa scrutinized her with half-opened eyes. “The patients who can pay me have done so. I had saved money from before our Germany turned upside down by the harshness of the Nazis, and I have an account in Switzerland. I’ll give you the account number should you ever need it.” He wrote the number on a sheet of paper and handed it to her. “Memorize the number. Do be careful. I can’t stop you but find something for yourself too.” He replaced the black box in his safe.”

  “I hope to find Mamma just the right scarf, perhaps a light wool for winter. I don’t need anything, but it’ll be fun to see the new styles.” Hannah smiled.

  “I’d be happier if you didn’t shop.”

  “I doubt I’ll run in to anyone I know, and if I do, they’ll probably ignore me.”

  “They may not.” Papa stood and Hannah followed him out of his office aware of the money in her pocket, excitement building at the prospect of a day away from the gloom overhanging the Jewish population. How she wished Penn could be with her.

  Dressed in her green tweed suit, her mother’s fox fur piece around her shoulders, her brown felt hat with a green feather, and her brown walking shoes, out of style but still serviceable, Hannah entered Wertheim Department Store. Much to her surprise, she saw two of her old school friends, Frieda Fischer and Klara Neumann, standing at the glove counter. Perhaps they would meet her for lunch. She hastened her step excited at the prospect of going over old times together forgetting she was a Jew.

  “What a surprise to see the two of you,” Hannah greeted her friends.

  Frieda glanced at her, then turned away. Klara glowered at her with eyes filled with hate. “Jew,” she spat. “What are you doing here? Get out. Don’t speak to me.”

  Hannah stepped back. It hadn’t entered her mind her very good friends would turn against her. She was an outsider alone among the Aryans with no place to hide. She glanced right and left wanting to shrink out of sight. Chills ran down her spine and her legs froze to the floor. She fought to catch her breath and her voice. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I guess you’ve forgotten me.” The words hung in the air, a chasm building between them that would never close and forever separate them from past friendships.

  “Forgotten you? No. You scum of the earth,” Klara hissed. “Don’t speak to me again.”

  Hannah gulped, turned away from Klara, and hurried farther into the store like a scared rabbit but with fleeting looks checking mirrors as she passed, not pausing until she reached hats. Ducking behind a display of four hats, she checked the door into the store and observed Frieda and Klara leave. To her horror, she watched as they approached two Gestapo. Gesticulating with their arms, they spoke to the young men, pointing to the door, nodding in the direction of the hats.

  The men entered the store swinging their batons. Customers moved out of their way as they made their way toward her. Hannah turned and hurried toward jewelry, constantly keeping them in her sight. Panic engulfed her but she slowed her movements to avoid calling attention to herself. Her breath came in short gasps. She paused and pretended to look at watches contemplating how to get outside.

  A woman came toward her, and she turned to run to another section of the store, but was stopped before she could leave the counter.

  “May I be of assistance?” the woman asked in a soft voice.

  “I’m just looking. I want to find scarves.” She gave a self-deprecating shrug and forced a smile.

  “They are in the front of the store near the gloves.”

  “Thank you.” Hannah turned, pictures of herself beaten by the Gestapo, her clothes ripped from her body, crouching to cover herself. She couldn’t bear such thoughts and she forced them out of her mind. Pausing at the display of gloves, she gauged the distance to the doors leading to the street, and observed the men speak to the clerk who had directed her to scarves.

  Forcing herself to walk slowly, she peeked toward the Gestapo, took in her breath, held it, and then let it out. The woman clerk was shaking her head and pointing to the elevators. Hannah pushed through the doors onto the street where she saw Frieda and Klara standing on the corner engaged in conversation. Turning away from them, she walked to the end of the store, turned a corner and entered a shop with a sky-blue sign, a winking lion, and a tankard of beer.

  The room was filled with noon lunch and beer drinkers. Hannah glanced around the room. When a maiden in a white apron approached her, she said, before the woman could ask, “I was to meet someone, but I don’t think he’s here. He said he might not make it. Sorry to bother you.” Her voice came out like a choked whisper.

  Hannah returned to the street feeling helpless. Clouds turned the earlier clear sky dark and ominous. The temperature had dropped and her breath spiraled out in white vapor. She pulled her mother’s fur piece tight around her neck and returned to the corner. Frieda and Klara were no longer in sight, but the two Gestapo were outside the store twirling their batons and watching everyone who left by the doors.

  She crossed the street and joined shoppers staying close to the line of brick walls with the walkers between her and the street. Overcoming her desire to run, she focused on breathing, paced herself with the crowd but kept an eye on the Gestapo, young men near her age. She removed her fox fur piece from her neck and tucked it under her arm but left her hat on. When she reached the corner, she turned away from them and continued to the tram anxious to reach the safety of her home. What safety? There was no safe place for a Jew in Nazi Germany. What had happened to the German people that they could condone such hatred? Hitler intends to destroy a race, plunging my people into a reign of terror.

  While sitting on a bench waiting for the tram, she fidgeted uneasily afraid the gestapo would appear and demand to see her papers. Under the orders of Hitler, an evil man like none the country had ever encountered, every moment of her life was in danger. He had shaped an entire people to his own sinister cravings. He was possessed of demonic desires, a granite will with uncanny instinct, and a cold ruthlessness. He was Austrian, a funny, comical little man with a mustache and a penetrating gaze but a killer and hater of her people.

  The tram arrived. Before climbing aboard, she glanced right and left, paid her fare and sat in the back of the car. Three blocks before she reached her street, she exited the tram. She glanced up and down the street. It was empty and devoid of traffic, not unusual with petroleum in short supply. With quick steps and staying close to the hedge rows surrounding homes, she hurried to the front door of her house and entered quietly.

  The house was dark and cold, and she did not hear voices coming from the kitchen which puzzled her, but she could not face her mother or Ethel after her encounter with Frieda and Klara. She climbed the curved staircase to the second floor, passed her beautiful bedroom she could no longer use and went up to the attic where she collapsed on the bed.

  Removing her shoes, she pulled on heavy wool socks, laid her mother’s fur piece across the back of her single chair, changed into a wool sweater
and skirt, and sank onto her narrow bed, her back resting against the wall. Her teeth chattered as much from her encounter with Frieda and Klara as from the cold, and she pulled her down comforter over her head and around her body wishing she could become invisible. She had put her family in danger. She had to warn them, but she had to collect her nerves.

  Klara and Frieda had been her best friends through her school years. They had shared sleepovers, birthdays, and camping trips, talked about boyfriends, laughed together, and tried smoking for the first time in her room. What had happened? They had turned on her. A deep sob erupted from her and she dabbed her eyes with the back of her hand. She would never speak with them again, no lunch meetings, no reminiscing, nothing.

  Why hadn’t she married Penn and gone to Switzerland to live? At least, she would know where he was and could see him. In 1939, Papa had decided they would leave Germany and convinced her the best way to see Penn in the future was to go with them. Why was Papa such a stubborn man refusing to leave Germany sooner?

  Obtaining the necessary papers was extremely difficult. Mamma, Ethel, and she had stood in long queues at embassy after embassy with hundreds of other Jews asking for help. Papa took time from his patients and joined them appealing for visas to leave the country. Without visas, they could not obtain support from the country they were to immigrate to and promised employment. When they did obtain the necessary papers, they were issued passports, visas to a new country, travel vouchers, and money for transportation with approval from the German government but only after months of applying. Many times, people were denied. The Jews were left in an impossible situation.

  A distant relative in England finally agreed to sponsor them, found employment for Papa as a gardener, Mamma as a maid, Ethel as a cook, and she as a nanny. They obtained the necessary papers and Papa purchased tickets for them to leave on September 4, 1939. On September 1, Germany invaded Poland. England and France declared war on Germany. Borders were closed. Travel plans cancelled. They remained in Germany.

  Everything Papa had strived for came to nothing. He could not stop the Nazis, change their minds, and prove to them he was a good German citizen. His WWI record was of no consequence to Hitler and his followers. The German people chose to close their minds to the atrocities inflicted on the Jews, at least most of them. Were they afraid to speak out? She answered yes, but realized many of them blamed the Jews for their economic woes, thought they were rich at the expense of them. Hitler played to them keeping the rumors alive. His charismatic personality drew the people to him. They followed him blindly as if he had divine contact with God.

  Today, she had added to their danger by speaking to Frieda and Klara. She had no doubt the Gestapo would show up at their door shortly and send them to relocation centers. Short jagged sobs shook her with feelings of helplessness and grinding waves of dizziness. She had failed her parents. The thought was ugly and pained her so deeply, she chilled from the inside.

  Knowing Papa, Mamma, and Ethel would worry if she didn’t go to the kitchen, she put on shoes, checked her red rimmed eyes and applied makeup to cover she’d been crying before making her way down the stairs to the kitchen.

  Her Papa had not returned from making calls to his patients in the Jewish Quarter. Mamma and Ethel sat at the table in heavy coats with only a candle providing light. The room was colder than usual and Hannah had a terrible feeling something was wrong.

  “We were afraid something might have happened to you.” Mamma stood and gave Hannah a hug. “You’ve been gone for such a long time and without Papa.”

  Hannah brushed a kiss across her mother’s cheek, pulled out a chair, and sat.

  “I’ll pour you some hot water,” Ethel said. “You look so tired.”

  Hannah said nothing for several minutes debating whether to relate her experience with Frieda and Klara, and decided against it. Disappointment washed over her. She didn’t even have a scarf for her mother’s birthday. Why wasn’t Papa home? She would wait until he returned to tell them about Frieda and Klara. He would know what to do.

  “Why are you sitting with only a candle for light and why is the fire so low?” she asked, her mind in a turmoil, her voice a choked whisper.

  “We need to save as much as we can,” Mamma answered.

  “Are we out of fuel for the stove?”

  “No, but it’s hard to come by especially with the bombing of the city.” Ethel set the hot water in front of her.

  “Why isn’t Papa home?”

  “He said he’d be late,” Mamma replied. “He had several sick people to see today.”

  “I hope he gets here before the bombing begins. We’re not allow to use the shelters.” Ethel served Hannah a piece of bread. “You must be hungry. Where have you been? What did you do today that you didn’t go with the doctor?”

  Before answering, Hannah forced herself to take a bite of the bread and a sip of water. “I went shopping.”

  Mamma brought her hand to her cheek. “Dear child, you shouldn’t have. What were you thinking? It was so dangerous.”

  “I was hoping to see the new fall styles, find you something for your birthday but I didn’t. I’m so sorry.” She choked on the bread.

  “I don’t need a present. I need you safe with me, with Papa. Promise you won’t go shopping again. You could have been arrested.” Mamma took Hannah’s hand.

  Ethel stood and went to the stove. “I must prepare supper. Your papa will be home soon.” She rattled the grate, started the fire, and put a pan of turnips on to boil. “We should eat before the bombers arrive.”

  So much for Goering and his promise that bombers would never reach Germany. Hannah took a sip of hot water and watched Ethel slice a single bratwurst to add to the turnips. Where could Papa be? She should have gone with him. It was late. She worried her hot water by turning the cup left then right.

  Mamma set the table, almost dropping the silverware her hand shook so, and Hannah realize she was near panic waiting for Papa. How could she have gone shopping instead of with him? At least, she would know where he was.

  When Papa did come into the kitchen, he looked worn down, tired, and intimidated. Mamma ran to him, took his coat, and led him to his chair.

  “We’ve been worried,” she said. “You’re so late.”

  Papa rested his forehead in his hands. “I went to Gestapo Head Quarters.”

  Hannah gasped. “How could you take such a risk?” Her heart thumped in her throat and her right arm lost feeling.

  “People were arrested out of the apartment I was visiting and for no reason. So, I protested. Two of them were patients of mine and had done nothing to warrant such treatment, but to no avail.” He shook his head. “I was told the three families were to be relocated. We know what that means, certain death, and I could do nothing.” A sob escaped his throat.

  “Saul, you could have been sent away too. What would we do without you? Thank God, for bringing him home to us.” Mamma looked up and clasped her hands. “Please, promise me you’ll never do such a think again.”

  Papa glanced at Mamma and said, “I’ll continue to do whatever I can to help our people.”

  You are such a fool. Hannah clinched her hands together under the table. “We must leave Germany. You, Papa, must contact the underground to lead us to safety before we are sent to relocate.”

  “Not yet. I still have work to do. I have hope. Germany is losing the war. Soon we’ll sue for surrender with the Allies and Germany will return to some semblance of normality.”

  Hannah thought not. Hitler was Germany’s fate. “I put us at risk today. I did run into two of my friends, Frieda and Klara, and they reported me to the Gestapo. I repeat, you must contact the underground. There is no time to wait.”

  Chapter 14

  Papa needed time to contact the underground. He sat with her in his room he
used for an office. Hannah sat on the edge of her chair ringing her cold hands. With the arrival of early snow, she was never warm. How she wished they could heat their house, add some friendliness to the rooms. Strange, she no longer thought of it as home, only house.

  “I’m so sorry, Papa, I’ve put us in danger. I never should have gone shopping. I wouldn’t have run into Frieda and Klara, and they wouldn’t have reported me to the Gestapo. What shall we do? We haven’t made plans for such an eventuality.” Hannah couldn’t look at him as her words tumbled out of her mouth with the guilt nagging her brain.

  Papa hesitated before answering. The wait seemed endless to Hannah. Fear tugged at her mind and questions jabbed her. How soon would the Gestapo be at their door, sending them to a relocation place, and separating them forever?” She wanted to scream her frustration at her mistake.

  When Papa answered, his words came slow, as though he was thinking as he spoke. “It’s my fault as well. I went to the Gestapo Head Quarters and protested calling attention to us. We must leave the city. I know we should get out immediately, but I must check my patient who has pneumonia so we’ll leave tonight.” He sucked in his breath and scratched the side of his head. “If I can’t reach the underground, it’ll be safer for us to leave in the dark. With the bombing raids, people will take to shelters or stay in basements and not notice us.”

  A great pit opened in Hannah’s mind. One day might be too late to leave the city. What was Papa thinking? Damn him. Once again, he was putting his patients ahead of their safety. “We can’t remain here another day. The Gestapo could arrive today. You’re putting us in further danger,” she protested in anger.