Someone Named Eva

by Joan M. Wolf

  Seven

  April 1944: Puschkau, Poland

  A few weeks after the trip to town, our early-morning routine was interrupted again.

  This time Fräulein Krüger said nothing, offering no hints of surprises or good news. No new clothes awaited us. The only sign that something was different was that Fräulein Krüger wore her formal Nazi uniform. It was decorated with medals and draped with a sash that read The League of German Girls.

  Instead of going to home economics lessons after breakfast, we were taken as a group to the little church that Liesel and I had spent so many nights visiting.

  "Do you think we're going back to town?" asked Siegrid, as we were directed into the church.

  "Oh, I hope so. I hope we get to stop at the candy stand again," said Gerde.

  Liesel walked beside me. "What do you think is going on?" she asked.

  "I don't know," I said nervously.

  In the daylight I could see that bright white paint covered the walls of the church, and an even larger picture of the Führer had replaced the one that was usually above the altar. A large League of German Girls poster hung where the statue of Mary had been, and small red candles burned brightly everywhere. On either side of the Führer dozens of blood-red roses were arranged in crystal vases.

  Liesel slid into the pew, sitting next to me. "It looks different in the day, doesn't it?" she whispered.

  I nodded, and she patted my arm and looked toward the front. Whispers and giggles from the other girls filled the church.

  "Heil Hitler!" The church fell silent as Fräulein Krüger appeared from a side door with two male Nazi guards I had never seen before. They were dressed in uniforms that were decorated with medals, and they wore polished black boots. A fresh wave of nervousness clenched my stomach.

  "Heil Hitler!" I jumped up with everyone in salute.

  "You may be seated." Fräulein Krüger approached the podium at the front of the church. Her hair was braided and wound around the back of her head in a way that reminded me of a spiderweb. So much poison under all that beauty.

  "Today, German girls, is a most special day," she began.

  The war is over. That was the first wild and hopeful thought that jumped into my head. The war is over and I am going back to Mama and Papa to be called by my real name and have a party with real cake and all of this will be forgotten as if it was a bad dream.

  "Today you begin your new lives as official German citizens." She saluted the two male officers in the front row as they stood.

  All the feeling drained from my body. The war was not over. The nightmare would continue.

  "Your training has been difficult, I know," Fräulein Krüger continued, "but you have become fine young German girls. Girls we are proud to say will one day belong to Hitler's League of German Girls. And today..." She stopped briefly, addressing her smile toward each of us in turn. "Today you will be adopted into your new German families."

  For a moment the whole world became nothing but blank, empty space. Everything froze, like a clock that suddenly stops ticking. And just as quickly the church and the pews and Fräulein Krüger's voice started spinning and faded away into soft velvet blackness.

  When I opened my eyes, two strangers stood over me. It was quiet. Too quiet. I felt dizzy when I tried to sit up, and a woman's hand gently pushed me down again. I was on my cot in the sleeping room, and a pretty woman I had never seen before was smiling down at me. A man stood near her, frowning and studying me through bushy eyebrows. Fräulein Krüger was off to the side, speaking rapidly.

  "...part of the excitement. She is a strong girl, I assure you. She stood up to an attack by a Pole."

  The woman stroked my forehead with her hand, the way Mama used to when I was sick, and I closed my eyes again. "Of course. Of course." She had a soft, gentle voice, musical and sweet. "Everything is fine now, Eva. We are ready to welcome you into our family."

  ***

  We pulled away from the center in an official Nazi car. Its black color shone like oil.

  Fräulein Krüger stood on the church steps, smiling and waving, as we drove away from the place I had called home for nearly two years. It occurred to me that I had not seen Liesel or any of the other girls before I left. I had not even had a chance to say good-bye.

  I was certain Fräulein Krüger would know where Liesel was, and I had to fight the urge to jump out of the car and run back. I had spent two years being afraid of Fräulein Krüger, and now I was genuinely afraid to leave her. But all I could do was watch her grow smaller and smaller through the rear window of the car until we turned a corner and she disappeared altogether.

  I was alone with these strangers.

  The dense brush of the Polish landscape moved past, slowly at first and then gaining speed as we traveled along the main road. My new parents sat with me in the backseat while their chauffeur drove.

  Outside the car, spring was making a full appearance. Tiny buds dotted the trees, looking as if they were ready to burst into bloom. Inside the car, the pretty woman talked nervously. But I kept my gaze fixed out the window, feeling numb and disconnected and not really hearing what she was saying. The man said nothing.

  "...so happy to have you with us. We know it must have been traumatic, the air raid and the circumstances that brought you to us. You can call me Mutter."

  Her words drifted in and out of my ears. Milada, Milada, Milada, I thought.

  "And your friend Franziska....Fräulein Krüger told us you were close and that her family was also lost in the air raid. She is being adopted by the Schönfelders, just a darling family. They live in Berlin. You two can certainly write to each other, and we might even be able to arrange a visit."

  The trees rushed past, their branches whispering to me: Milada, Milada, Milada.

  "We have a dog, Kaiser. He's the sweetest German shepherd. And you have a little brother, Peter, who is eight. And you will just love Elsbeth. She is fourteen, and she can't wait to have a sister."

  "Let her rest, Trude. Let her rest." The father, Hans Werner, stopped her endless chatter. "It's been a long day for everyone."

  I looked away from the window and met the woman's eyes briefly. My new mother, Trude Werner, looked at her husband, bit her lip, and stopped talking. She took my hand in hers, and I turned back to the window to watch the scenery pass.

  ***

  As we drove through Berlin, it seemed as if we were in a different world. People were outside, talking with one another, smiling and laughing as if everything was fine and I was not in a car with two complete strangers. Some of the buildings we passed had been damaged by bombs; those that had not stood proudly, old spires gleaming high into the sky.

  It seemed as if pictures and posters of Hitler covered every building and house of the city. His cold, hard eyes looked down, assuring us that Germany reigned supreme.

  Milada, Milada, Milada. As we drove, my fingers found the outline of Grandmother's star pin under my skirt.

  We continued beyond Berlin, then north to the small town of Fürstenberg and into what looked like a woods. At last the trees gave way to a small clearing, and the car slowed as we turned into a long paved driveway that ended at the top of a hill. There was a sharp, unpleasant smell in the air that began to creep into the car.

  A large white house stood before us, resting like a giant island in a sea of green grass. It was three sto ries tall, with dozens of windows and huge pillars that supported a large porch that wrapped around the house. I was awed and overwhelmed by its size. I had never seen a house so large.

  We had come to the Werner residence.

  The smell I had noticed at the foot of the driveway grew stronger as we approached the house, and I put a hand to my nose. It was a bitter smell, hanging in the air like a ghost—invisible yet present.

  "Don't worry, liebling, you'll get used to the smell." Frau Werner patted my hand. "It's really not so bad," she said with a sigh. "Just the cost of war."

  The chauffeur parked at the top
of the circular driveway, then got out and opened the doors for us.

  "Vater!" A child's high-pitched, delighted scream bounced toward us as we walked to the main entrance of the house. A young boy with short, silky blond hair and emerald-green eyes darted from the front door and jumped straight into Herr Werner's arms.

  "Peter!" Herr Werner smiled, twirling his son around like an airplane.

  A pretty young girl with bobbed blond hair and dark-blue eyes stood on the porch, smiling shyly. Frau Werner led me to her.

  "Elsbeth, this is your new sister, Eva."

  The girl smiled at me and touched my arm. "Hello, Eva," she said. I gazed at her in return, saying nothing, then let her take my hand and lead me into the house.

  ***

  I slept in a real bed that night for the first time since I could remember. I wore a new nightdress that had pretty lace trim on its short sleeves, and I lay wrapped in cool, clean sheets. Like Elsbeth and Peter, I had my own bedroom as well as a separate room for a study. The walls in my room were painted pink, with matching lace curtains that puffed gently from the spring breeze coming through the window. It brought with it the sharp smell I had noticed earlier.

  "Eva?" Frau Werner stood in the bedroom doorway, her body framed by the light from the hall. I was filled with aching and loneliness. I could not remember any other time when I had wanted my own mama more than at that moment.

  "Yes?" I answered, sitting up. My voice sounded strange, almost as if it was coming from someone else. My own mama and papa had not come for me. I was to be Eva, German girl. I was to live with these people and call them Mother and Father and Sister and Brother. I was the new hope for Germany.

  Frau Werner sat on my bed and began to stroke my hair and my face. Her hand was soft, her nails shortly trimmed. She started humming, and tears began to fall down my face.

  "Shh, Eva, liebling. Shh." She pulled me onto her lap, whispering and rocking me gently. I let her hold me, feeling ashamed. She was a Nazi. She was the enemy. She had invaded my land and taken me from my home. And yet she was a woman, my new mother, there to comfort and hold me. I couldn't help but feel safe and protected in her arms.

  Her golden hair was pulled out of its bun and hung long and loose, curling around her arms, brushing my shoulders. It was soft and smelled like flowers, and I ran my fingers through it, pulling apart small strands so they could catch the light from the hall.

  "Your hair. It's beautiful," I whispered. She smiled, pulling me from her so she could see my face.

  "You have beautiful hair too, Eva. Perfect German hair."

  I winced. Nazi hair. Hair that my real mother and grandmother used to brush and braid and weave flowers into.

  "We can style your hair," she continued. "Tomorrow if you wish. Oh, Eva, Elsbeth and I have so many things to share. She has been so excited to have a sister. And I to have another daughter."

  She stood suddenly, brushing a tear off her cheek. "You must sleep now, precious Eva." She leaned over and kissed me on the forehead. Then, turning away, she walked out to the hall, her flowery scent staying behind with me, masking the strong smell coming from outside.

  I lay in the dark, tracing Grandmother's pin beneath my nightdress and picturing the faces of Jaro and Anechka, Mama and Papa. A shadowy question was lurking in my mind. I no longer wondered when my family would come for me. For the first time, I began to wonder if they would come for me.

  Where could they be?

  Were they back home in the house I had grown up in, tucked safely into their own beds? Were they in a work camp, waiting to be freed so they could come rescue me? Were they living somewhere else in the world that I didn't even know about? Were they safe? Happy? Did they know I had become a German girl, the enemy? Were they thinking of me or had I been forgotten?

  Milada, Milada, Milada.

  I could almost hear the name on the breeze blowing in through the window and filling the lace curtains.

  Eight

  May 1944: Fürstenberg, Germany

  THE next morning I was awakened by happy shouts coming from Peter's study.

  I slipped out of bed and crept down the hall, following the noise to the doorway. I stood there watching Peter and his father wrestle playfully on the floor.

  "Vater! Vater! I will get you, Vater!" Peter pounced on top of Herr Werner, who sat crouched on the floor like a cat, with his shirt untucked and his uniform jacket slung over a chair.

  "Ah! What a man you are!" Herr Werner growled playfully and rolled Peter onto his back, tickling him. "What a big strong man you are!" Peter was still dressed in his sleeping clothes, his hair sticking out in all directions.

  "Hans," Frau Werner was standing behind me.

  Peter and Herr Werner both stopped in mid-play, and Herr Werner frowned at his wife. Peter looked from his mother to his father and then at me.

  "Play is good for the boy. Helps him to be a man." Herr Werner ran his fingers through his son's hair. Peter giggled.

  "Hans," Frau Werner repeated, her voice tight. "It is time for his bath."

  "I'll send him when we're done, wife." He didn't look at her as he spoke but winked at Peter, cuffing him playfully on the shoulder.

  "Come, Eva, it is time for your bath as well." Frau Werner turned briskly.

  Peter followed his mother with his eyes, and when she was no longer in sight, he looked up at me and stuck out his tongue. I blinked in surprise. I had not been around boys for some time, but it reminded me of something my own brother would have done. Then I followed his mother to the washroom that Elsbeth and I were to share. It was large and gleaming white, with two separate claw-foot tubs. One was already full of water and bubbles.

  "Our maid, Helga, drew the water for you," Frau Werner said as she led me into the room. "Here is a robe. The towels there are yours." She pointed to two soft white towels hanging from a gold loop by the tub and left me to my bath. Her manner had changed from the previous night. She had become brisk and efficient, a mother getting her daughter ready for the day.

  I climbed into the tub and sat, breathing in the scent of lavender and letting the warmth seep its way into my skin. I lifted small handfuls of water and watched it drip between my fingers. From down the hall came the sounds of Herr Werner leading Peter, finally, to a bath in his own washroom.

  The water felt soft and luxurious. I couldn't remember the last time I had taken a bath. We had taken quick, cold showers at the center and had scrubbed with soap that always smelled like medicine. The showers left me feeling awake, but never feeling good or even really clean.

  After my bath I ate breakfast by myself in the kitchen and was happy to be left alone. I could hear the sounds of Peter and Elsbeth getting ready for the day and their mother trying to hurry them along. The voices of servants echoed from various parts of the house, and periodically I would hear Herr Werner's loud voice or heavy footsteps upstairs. I sat eating quietly, wondering what was to happen to me in this house with this family.

  ***

  I was left to myself for much of my first couple of days in the Werner household, and I spent that time trying to find my way around the inside of the huge house and wading through the great sea of lawn outside.

  I was away from guards for the first time in two years, and I thought about running away. I could have escaped into the small woods that bordered the house, running until I couldn't run anymore and then lying down to sleep in the hope of awakening from this nightmare, back in my bed in Lidice. But each time I thought about leaving, something stopped me.

  It was the smell that clung to everything inside and outside of the house. It was unlike anything I had smelled before, and it seemed to be everywhere at once, but its cause remained unseen. Some days it was strong, almost overpowering, while other days it was barely present. I knew something nearby had to be causing it, something unknown and awful. It was the fear of what I might find that kept me from running.

  Elsbeth sometimes followed those first few days, hovering behind me. She obv
iously wanted to be near but was trying to stay far enough away to give me some privacy. She would keep a watchful eye over me until her mother or one of the servants shooed her away or assigned her an errand or chore.

  As I wandered through the house, I was struck by how much it reminded me of a museum I had visited once in Prague, with its ornate artwork and dark wood paneling. Everything in the house was lavish and splendid, so perfect that I was afraid I might break something if I touched it.

  Besides the bedrooms and studies, there was a huge sunroom on the second floor, which opened onto a large porch that wrapped all the way around the second story of the house. Peter's dog, Kaiser, would sit on the back porch with me and chase the butterflies that came to rest on the flowers. Helga, the maid, made sure there were always fresh flowers in the house, as if trying to use their fragrance to mask the ever-present smell.

  A huge formal ballroom took up most of the first floor. One side opened onto a wide spiral staircase that elegantly swept up to the second floor. On the center wall of the ballroom was a framed picture of Hitler. It was almost life size and was accompanied by two red flickering candles and a vase of fresh flowers.

  Next to the staircase was a library, with shelf after shelf of books that reached all the way to the ceiling. Some shelves were so high that a special ladder with wheels was needed to reach the books. In all my life I had never seen so many books.

  Across from the library was the only room in the Werner house that was locked. Its door was plain compared with everything else in the house, and when I first found it, I thought perhaps it led to a washroom or closet. I turned the knob, but it refused to open. I shook the handle gently, and suddenly Peter was standing between the door and me.

  "You can't go in there." His green eyes pierced me from beneath his short blond bangs.

  "I—I didn't know," I stammered, pulling my hand away. I hadn't even been aware that he was following me.

  "It's Vater's office, and he is the only one allowed inside. Sometimes I can go in. But you cannot." His eyes flashed with an adult kind of authority and narrowed to slits. Suddenly, I felt afraid.