The Smallest Crack

by Roberta Kagan

  “It’s been a long time since you came to sit with me,” Hilde said. “I gave up on you.”

  I deserved that. I have been a terrible friend, Gretchen thought.

  “I know. I’m sorry, Hilde. I’ve been busy with work, and most days I take my lunch at my desk because I am trying to catch up,” Gretchen said apologetically.

  “Yes, I am quite sure you were. After all, you want to leave early, don’t you? So you can be with your fiancée.”

  “Yes, that’s true.”

  “To be with Norbert? Right?”

  “Yes, to be with Norbert,” Gretchen said.

  Hilde grunted. “Well, I suppose that is how it is when you’re in love, eh?” Hilde’s tone was a little sarcastic, and it made Gretchen cringe. But she knew that she’d hurt Hilde, and any bad feelings Hilde had toward her were her own fault. If it were at all possible, she wanted to make things right with her old friend.

  “Do you mind me sitting with you for lunch today?”

  “I suppose it’s all right with me,” Hilde said.

  “How have you been?”

  “Fine, I suppose. How am I expected to feel when my best friend just stopped talking to me?”

  “Hilde, I’m sorry.”

  “For what?” Hilde said a little too abruptly, and Gretchen could hear how hurt Hilde was in her tone. “You didn’t have time for me anymore, did you?”

  “I’m sorry for treating you the way I did. I was wrong. I got so caught up in my relationship with Norbert that I forgot what a good friend you were. You didn’t deserve to be treated that way.”

  “No, Gretchen. I didn’t.”

  “I am sorry if I hurt you.”

  “I didn’t say you hurt me,” Hilde said, wrapping her arms around her chest.

  “I should never have behaved that way. You were always a good friend to me, and you deserved better.”

  Hilde shrugged. “It’s getting late; I want to get back to my desk before the bell rings. I have to catch up on some work.” She gathered her food into a cloth napkin and put it into her handbag.

  “Do you really have to go?”

  “Yes, I’m afraid so,” Hilde said as she stood up.

  “Hilde, before you go, I want to tell you that I value our friendship, and if you give me another chance, I promise I will never push you aside again.”

  Hilde stopped and sank back into her chair. “You really promise?”

  “Yes, I promise. And I really am so sorry for what I did.”

  “I’ve missed you, Gretchen. The Bund camp was terrible. Hann never showed up, and without you there with me, I felt so alone. I had no one to talk to. Then I got home, and I was so excited to see you and tell you everything. I needed someone to share my feelings with. But you didn’t want anything to do with me anymore. I was so hurt. I need you. You’re my best friend.”

  “I know. You have always been a good friend to me, Hilde. You are my best friend too. I was so wrong to treat you the way I did. Can you forgive me?”

  Hilde nodded. “I’m just glad you’re back to normal, and I wish Hann would come back to Berlin.”

  “Have you talked to Hann?”

  “I wrote to him. He doesn’t answer my letters. I’m sure he’s still upset over Thea.”

  “Still? You think so? It’s been a long time.”

  “Yes. Well, he was quite taken with her. Although I can’t see why.”

  “I shouldn’t have ignored you for so long. I’ve missed you, Hilde. It’s so good to talk to you again.”

  Hilde smiled. “I feel the same way.”

  “My father got arrested.”

  “I heard,” Hilde said, looking away.

  “Does everyone in town know?”

  “Probably. Who cares? People talk. Gossip. That’s because they have nothing better to do,” Hilde said smiling.

  “After my father’s arrest, Norbert stopped coming to see me.”

  “But weren’t you two engaged to be married?”

  “Yes, we were. I don’t know if we still are or not. I mean, we aren’t officially broken up. So I don’t know what to do.”

  “What about the wedding? Have you made wedding plans?”

  “Yes, and now I just don’t know what to do with him. I don’t know if he still wants to marry me.”

  “How can you not know?”

  “He hasn’t talked to me at all. He stopped coming to see me. I am going to have to go to his house and talk to him. Hilde, I’m so scared to confront him. What if he breaks it off?”

  “If he breaks it off with you, he wasn’t worth marrying. You’re a good girl, and you’re a great catch. You’re pure Aryan, beautiful, and very smart. He would be a fool to break up with you.”

  “But I think I will be heartsick if he does. I hate rejection.”

  “Everyone hates rejection. But if he’s that stupid, you don’t want him anyway. You deserve a man who recognizes your value.”

  “That’s very sweet of you to say, Hilde.”

  “It’s true. I know you better than anyone else. We’ve been friends a long time. I know that he would be lucky if you married him. He would be getting the perfect Aryan wife.”

  “You don’t realize how much our conversation is helping me. You’re giving me the courage to go and see him and to cope with whatever he might say,” Gretchen said, thinking that she didn’t remember Hilde being this kind and good of a friend.

  Hilde patted Gretchen’s hand. Gretchen smiled genuinely. I’m glad to have my old friend back in my life. Hilde has her faults, but she is fiercely loyal.

  “Would you like some bread?” Hilde asked, taking the napkin out of her purse. “I baked this yesterday.”

  “Sure. Thanks. You always were an excellent cook and baker,” Gretchen said as she put the bread into her mouth. “This is delicious. It melts in your mouth.”

  “Thanks,” Hilde said, taking a piece of the small loaf and eating it. “Between us, Gretchen, your father is flirting with disaster. I wouldn’t say this if I didn’t care about you. But when he goes off defending Jews, it’s a real mistake. It’s unsafe. And to be quite frank, you may not realize this, but the Jews are very dangerous. They’re liars and cheats, and God knows what else they do to good Aryan people. I know for sure that they are thieves.”

  “Oh, I don’t know any Jews, but I’m sure you’re right that my father was overstepping his boundaries. He is done with all that now, Hilde. He only did it because he worked with those professors for years. He wanted to help them. But he has made it clear to me and everyone else that he has since changed his mind,” Gretchen said, choking on her words. On the outside, her father was looking as if he were an enthusiastic member of the Nazi Party. But on the inside, Gretchen knew her father’s feelings about Hitler had not changed. Still, she dared not share any of this with Hilde. Hilde was a true Nazi and a firm hater of Jews. A girl like Hilde would never understand a man like Karl Schmidt. Gretchen saw her father back down, not because he was afraid of another arrest or beating, but because he wanted to protect her, his only child.

  “Anyway, I have been thinking about taking some time off work. I could use a vacation from the day-to-day grind,” Hilde said.

  “Can you afford to?” Gretchen asked.

  “I can if I have a baby for the fatherland.”

  “What do you mean? Are you pregnant?”

  “No, I’m not pregnant. Not yet. What I mean is, I could go to a home for the Lebensborn and have a child for the fatherland. It’s a new program. Have you heard about it?”

  “I haven’t.

  “It works like this. First, I get examined to determine that I am of pure Aryan blood, which, of course, I am. Then I go to parties where I meet men of pure racial blood, and I choose whom I want to have relations with. Then, while I am pregnant, I can stay at a home for the Lebensborn where they take excellent care of me. I’ll have plenty of good food and medical care. If things don’t work out with you and Norbert, you might want to do it too. If you have
a few babies for our fatherland, you might even be given an award.”

  “I don’t know how I would feel about giving my baby away,” Gretchen said. “Anyway, my next move is to talk to Norbert and see where we stand.”

  “Would you think about it? Would you maybe consider going with me if you and Norbert decide to go your separate ways?”

  “Going with you? You mean to the home for the Lebensborn?”

  “Yes.”

  “Oh, I don’t know. I really don’t know,” Gretchen stammered. “I mean, I couldn’t imagine having a child and not knowing what happened to my baby as it grew up. I was raised without my mother, so often I wondered how things would have been if she lived. What would my child feel when he or she grew up and realized that I had given him or her away willingly, of my own free will? My mother died; she had no choice, so I forgave her for leaving me. But if she had just walked away from me without any reason at all? I don’t know, Hilde. I’m sorry, but I don’t think I could do that” Gretchen said. She didn’t want to hurt Hilde’s feelings, but the idea made her sick to her stomach.

  “I never really thought about your situation. I mean, your not having your mother, growing up. I can see why this might be hard for you. But remember this. You didn’t have a mother raising you, so you glorified your mutti. I had my mother with me throughout my entire childhood. I don’t have to wonder about her. I know she was a horrible person. When she died, I didn’t even shed a tear. Because of the way she treated me, I don’t glorify motherhood at all.”

  Gretchen didn’t know what to say. She knew that Hilde’s mother was an alcoholic, and she heard that the woman had committed suicide. To make matters worse, Hilde was the one who found her mother dead on the kitchen floor. Of course, Hilde was angry and bitter. How else could she feel? A few moments of silence followed, and then the bell rang.

  “We’d both better get back to our desks,” Gretchen said.

  “Yes, it’s that time.”

  “Hilde?”

  “Yes?”

  “Thank you for today. Let’s spend more time together in the future. I didn’t realize how much I’ve missed you.”

  “I’d like that,” Hilde said.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO

  As Gretchen walked to Norbert’s house, she took notice of all the men on the streets wearing different forms of Nazi uniforms. She never paid much attention before, but now she looked at them with hatred burning in her heart. These people beat her father: her dear, gentle father. They took him from his home, and they beat him. Why? Because he couldn’t bear to see an injustice done to one of his friends.

  Everything she learned in the Bund suddenly made her sick to her stomach. She swore that, no matter what her father chose to do, even if he joined the army, she would fight this cruel and unforgiving regime in any way she could.

  Norbert was sitting at the kitchen table eating a grilled sausage with sauerkraut and drinking a mug of beer when Gretchen arrived. The smell of good food filled the house. Yet even though Gretchen had not eaten in hours, she had no appetite. Her heart was racing. Norbert looked up at her, and she was sure she saw a million different emotions flash across his face. She couldn’t read him completely. Did he still love her? If not, how could love disappear so quickly? She saw pity in his eyes. But what left her terrified was that he looked unhappy to see her.

  “Gretchen,” he said. His voice was just a note higher than usual, but Gretchen immediately detected the change in his tone. She knew he was distancing himself from her. In the past, when they were intimate, his voice would grow deeper and warmer. But when he was hiding something and pushing away from her, his tone was higher pitched.

  “Hello, Norbert,” she said.

  For a second, which seemed like forever to Gretchen, he sat staring at her, still holding his knife and fork suspended in midair.

  “Are you hungry?” he asked.

  She shook her head. “Can I sit down?” she asked in a small voice.

  He nodded, stammering, “Yes, of course. Please, sit.”

  She sat with her back rigid in the chair across from him. He carefully put the knife and fork down. His face was serious as he took a swig of the beer. “Would you like a drink?”

  “No, thank you,” Gretchen said, still wearing her coat and hat and feeling out of place and uncomfortable. “Norbert?”

  “Yes?”

  “I haven’t seen you in a long time.” The words stuck in her throat.

  “I know. I’m sorry.”

  She thought about running out of the house before she heard what she knew he was about to say, but she couldn’t. She had to push this as far as it must go. If he was breaking up with her, she must know and face the truth. Things could not continue with them both in limbo. They had wedding plans.

  “Why?” she asked.

  “Why, what?” he stammered.

  “Why have you not come to see me?” The tears filled her eyes as she asked for an answer that she dreaded. She didn’t want to believe what she knew to be true. She hated to face that this man whom she had once planned to marry was not the man she thought he was. And even though she knew she wasn’t in love with him, and he wasn’t the man for her, she felt terribly sad. In a very strange way, this breakup was the death of the certainty of a safe and steady future.

  “Gretch. I . . .”

  “You don’t love me anymore?” she asked, wondering why this hurt so much when she knew she could never respect a man who could walk away from her because he didn’t have the courage to fight for her.

  “It’s not that. Of course, I care for you. I can’t just erase everything we shared, from my heart.”

  “Yes, Norbert. How well I know. After all, you were my first.” A tear slid down her cheek.

  “But . . .” He cleared his throat and took another swig of the beer. “I can’t marry you.”

  “You’re calling off the wedding?” She knew this was going to happen, but the shock of hearing him say it aloud made her feel ill.

  “I have to. I’m sorry.”

  “Norbert? That’s all you have to say?”

  “I know. I know. I am hurting you. I don’t want to hurt you. But . . .”

  “But what?”

  “But my parents. Their livelihood depends on members of the party. I can’t marry you. My parents are against it, and I know they’re right.”

  She felt like she might vomit. She stood up and turned to leave, but then she turned back and looked at him. “Were you going to tell me, Norbert?”

  “I was avoiding telling you.”

  “I see.”

  “I said I am sorry. And God knows, I am.”

  “You’re a coward.”

  He nodded. “Yes.”

  “I thought you were so much stronger. But you’re weak. You can’t stand on your own. You need your family’s approval. That means you’re not a man . . . not in my book.”

  He shrugged, but she could see that she’d hurt him, and if she stayed he might cry.

  “I’m not strong, Gretchen. I can’t fight the world the way you and your father seem to think that you can. Ideals are wonderful, but if you look back in history, many great idealists ended up dead at very young ages. I don’t want to die. I want to live.”

  “Well then . . . may you live to a ripe old age, Norbert. And may you also be proud of who you are. Proud enough to tell your grandchildren that you did what you truly believed was right. Let them know how strong your character was, so they can be very proud to have you as their grandfather.” Without looking at him, she turned and walked out the door.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE

  Walking home with the cold wind on her face made Gretchen feel alone and lost. Tears fell down her cheeks and froze on her eyelashes.

  What do I do now? My father will be off to army training in a month. My fiancée has broken off our engagement. I could always join Hilde. It’s a nice idea to take a vacation. She and I could be grown-up Deutcher maidels having fun, no longer playing sports or he
lping German women with their children, but now as grown-ups we would be having babies for the Reich. I could do this and be admired for it by our neighbors. But let's face it; in my heart I know I can’t. I don’t believe in the Reich, and I could never give my child away. Norbert is right. I am a lot like my father. And I am not sorry that I am like him. I am proud to be like him. No. I am not sorry at all.

  Gretchen was sobbing. She wiped the tears from her eyes and nose with her scarf. It’s almost funny, but I am thinking about Eli. How could it be that I think I have more in common with Eli than I do with Norbert? Eli was actually different from any man I’ve ever known. He was nothing like my father. He had principles, and he stood behind them no matter what the cost. Eli was intellectually stimulating and certainly well read. He was deep and soulful. I remember his dark eyes. I could have lost myself in those eyes. And it was always so apparent in everything he said that he cared about people. I remember how kind and sympathetic he was when we discussed my mother. I wonder what Eli is doing these days? I wonder if he ever thinks of me? Probably not. After all, he is living the life that he believes he was destined to live. If he had been different . . . If he had been willing . . . he and I would have probably been lovers. I wonder if he ever married the girl his father found for him? I suppose I will never know.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR

  Summer 1937

  Eli Kaetzel sat on a bench inside the yeshiva studying on a Friday afternoon. He was finishing up his reading of a book on the Torah, his eyes scanning the lines right to left when Yousef, who had just finished teaching a class, walked over to him.

  “Eli! You’re just the fellow I want to see!”

  “Youssi!” Eli called Youssef by the affectionate nickname he used for him. As Eli looked up from his book.

  “Shavua tov!” Yousef said.

  “Shabbat shalom,” Eli answered as they exchanged greetings and well wishes for the Sabbath that night. “Nu, so how are you?”

  “Can’t complain, can’t complain. Listen, I would like to invite you and Rebecca to my son’s bris next week. You’ll come to our house?”