Drifting between heavy sleep and half-consciousness, troubled dreams raced through Rachel's head. Memories… they suddenly seemed very close that night, closer than they had been in so long. She had tried to shut them out, not wanting to remember her grief. The pain of her shattered heart. And now, she let herself drift back to that night, remembering it all in detail.
She could see it all before her as vividly as if it was happening all over again and her heart clenched with terror. There she was, standing in the familiar kitchen of the house where they had hidden for so long, hand pressed against her swollen stomach as she glanced up at her husband, eyes brimming with fear.
"You must hide… quickly!" Rachel started, gasping at the sharp voice. It couldn't be… how could it be happening again? The memories… no, no… she didn't want to remember. But there it all was… and there was Isaac standing at her side again. She pressed her hand against her swollen stomach as she glanced up at her husband, eyes brimming with fear. Their host… a middle-aged man with a graying beard… spoke to them sharply. "Up to the attic, if you value your lives. Go, go, my friends!"
They didn't wait to hear the last of his words. Isaac grabbed Rachel's hand and pulled her along with him as they rushed to the stairs. She faltered, nearly falling, as she wrapped her arms around her stomach. It was so hard to run. Isaac picked her up and climbed the stairs rapidly and yet silently. The little attic where they had lived for so many months no longer felt safe. Once a haven… a refuge from the mad world… it was now just the last tiny spot to which they could retreat… like cornered rats before the predators.
"Isaac…" Rachel gasped in a voice strangled by fear as he set her gently down on the mattress that lay on the floor and ran to bolt the attic door. He leaned against the door a moment, breathing heavily, sweat trickling down his forehead. She held her arms out to him and he went to her, collapsing on the mattress beside her. They wrapped their arms around each other, trembling in the semi-darkness as they listened to the pounding on the front door. In another moment, the sounds of splintering wood and the heavy tramp of military boots echoed in the hall.
"They… they're going to find us, aren't they?" she whispered, trying to be brave.
"No, my shefela, no," he whispered, pressing kisses to her forehead. "Not while I'm living." He tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, running his fingers lovingly over her face. His voice was reassuring, but his eyes were sad. Not wanting to see the sadness, she nestled close against his chest, closing her eyes as she listened to his whispered words of comfort.
"Don't worry, my shefela, my Rachel. I'll take care of you. You'll be safe… you and our baby. Safe and happy. I promise it… I swear it."
From downstairs came the sound of shattering glass and the dull thuds of falling furniture. Muffled cries, panicked protests, angry shouted orders. Rachel shook in Isaac's arms, nearly frozen in terror. He pulled her closer, reaching to tuck the golden chain around her neck with its tiny Star of David inside her dress to hide it from view.
The footsteps were on the stairs now, coming closer and closer. The attic door shook heavily as a body fell against it, the doorknob rattling.
"Why is this door locked, old man?" snarled a deep voice. "What are you hiding?"
"Nothing… nothing!" came the weak cry.
"Well? Unlock it and prove it. Or we will break it down!"
"I… need to get my keys…"
A muttered curse and then the crash of a rifle butt against the heavy oaken door. Isaac rose swiftly, scooping Rachel up. For a moment he hesitated, scanning the little room frantically. At last he moved to the back corner, setting her on the ground behind a stack of trunks. Picking up a dusty canvas sheet, he draped it over her body as she lay huddled on the ground, looking up at him with pleading eyes.
"Hide with me," she whispered, realizing in growing horror what he meant to do. He crouched down in front of her, staring deep into her eyes.
"I love you, Rachel Cohen. I love both of you." His hand rested briefly on her stomach with a gentle caress. "Live for me."
He only had enough time to cover her with the sheet and stand, shoving the trunks to better conceal her. The door gave way at last, the attic room filling with Gestapo soldiers. Isaac faced them boldly, lifting his chin in defiance.
"Hiding nothing, eh?" An officer chuckled as he ran his hate-filled eyes over the young man. "Are you the only one here?"
"Yes."
Rachel pressed her fist against her mouth to keep from screaming in protest. She could feel the baby kicking inside of her, reminding her why she must live.
"You're a dirty liar," the officer sneered. "Take him back to the truck, Holt, and the rest of you, search this attic."
"I said there's no one else." Isaac's voice was firm. Rachel could barely see him from where she lay hidden as the man called Holt seized him, twisting his arms behind his back.
"We will see," the officer smiled cruelly. "Perhaps you are protecting someone. A woman, eh?"
Isaac's eyes darted from one man to the next, sizing them up. There were four of them, and he was taller than every one of them. Without warning, he broke away from the man who held him, swinging at the officer. His fist connected with the man's jaw, knocking him to the ground. Swiftly he pulled the pistol from the officer's holster and whirled to face the others. They drew their guns instantly. Gunfire echoed through the room with a roar and died into silence almost immediately. Rachel felt every muscle in her body clench as she saw Isaac clutch at his chest and stumble backwards a few steps before falling lifelessly to the floor. Her heart seemed to stop beating.
The officer was helped to his feet by his comrades. He rubbed his jaw, hatred flashing in his eyes. He kicked Isaac's body viciously, cursing him. Voices echoed through the floor below as more Gestapo entered the house.
"No more time, Krause!" bellowed an impatient voice. "We have to get moving. Come on!"
"You heard him," Krause muttered as best he could. His jawbone was shattered. "Get out of here. Leave the Jew… let his body rot up here, for all I care. Can't keep Steiner waiting."
The moment the house was still, Rachel bolted from her hiding place, throwing herself over Isaac's body in a flood of tears. In the streets below, the Gestapo still searched the town, but Rachel didn't even try to hide. She held her husband, weeping, until time ceased to have any meaning and she had no more tears to cry.
✯✯✯
Rachel gasped as she found herself torn out of the dream and back in the present again. She couldn't bear the memories of that black day. Yet still those dreams haunted her.
It was almost hard to adjust to the fact that she was no longer alone… or cold or hungry. And not only that, but she was safe… protected. Breathing hard, she scanned the scene around her, looking for Benji. She noted that the red-haired soldier… she remembered vaguely that his name was Sam… had assumed guard and the soldier at her side… Ronnie… held her baby. Glad to see that Benji was alright, she closed her eyes again, letting her body relax. She focused on the details to keep her mind from wandering again… the scratchy wool of the army coat, the piercing howl of the wind through the cracks in the walls, the rustling of the hay, the muffled groans of the wounded man, the warmth of the soldier beside her, the strength in the shoulder she rested her head on.
She heard the babbling of the baby’s voice and smiled. The soldier was talking to him and laughing softly. His voice was kind. It sounded almost like Isaac’s voice and suddenly she wanted to hear him say “my shefela”. She opened her eyes again to rid herself of the thought, watching him. His eyes matched his voice… kind and gentle… and the deepest blue she had ever seen. He looked young… only a few years older than her, she guessed… but there were faint streaks of gray in his blond hair. He was smiling at the baby, but behind the smile, he seemed tired and sad and she suddenly wanted to comfort him somehow. She wanted to tell him that he wasn't alone… that she too had been scarred forever by the horrors of this war… that she understood. But she said nothing, not knowing how to find the right words.
Benji untangled his tiny hands free of his blanket and reached up to yank on the soldier’s glasses. Laughing again, the soldier pulled the glasses off and handed them to the baby who turned them over and over in his hands in fascination.
"Be careful with those, little guy," Ronnie spoke quietly to keep from waking the others. "They're the only pair I've got on me right now."
"Ba." The baby answered and Ronnie chuckled.
"Sorry. I don't speak baby. Know any English?"
"Mama."
"Well, whaddya know. He does!"
"Ba ba. Mama." Benjamin opened the folded pair of glasses and strategically attempted to jab out Ronnie's eyes.
"Better let me put those back on myself. I'm more used to it."
"Wan' Mama."
"You'd better tone it down, Bud," Ronnie lowered his voice to a whisper. "Your Mama needs her rest."
But Rachel was already awake and she lifted her weary head to smile at Benjamin.
"Did he sleep alright?"
"Pretty well. He's been keeping me company now."
"I was listening to your conversation," she laughed softly. Her eyes were sad, but her laugh was joyful… lilting and musical. "You remind me of… of Isaac. He loved children. I remember when he was courting me… he'd play with my little sisters for hours. He was their hero." She paused, swallowing hard. "He… he looked so forward to meeting his own little one."
She turned to Benjamin, watching him with loving eyes. "You've made a new friend, haven't you, little one? Just like… like your… Daddy." The last she spoke more to herself than to the baby, her eyes growing distant. But he caught on to her words.
"Daddy," he repeated, throwing his chubby arms around Ronnie's neck. "Daddy."
"Oh no… I didn't mean…" Rachel bit her lip, frowning in embarrassment.
"No," Ronnie laughed at Benjamin. "I'm just Ronnie."
"Daddy." The child persisted stubbornly. He lay back in Ronnie’s arms, curling up against his chest with a happy squeak. Finding the snaps on the pockets of Ronnie’s jacket, he gleefully snapped and unsnapped them over and over, babbling delightedly in his baby voice. With a weary sigh, Ronnie leaned his head against the rough wall of the barn.
"Haven't got much time," he muttered sleepily. "We'd better all get some rest." Rachel nodded, turning her face away quickly. But he noticed her tears before she could hide them.
"Are you okay?"
"Jah," she whispered, her voice shaking. "It's just… thinking about my sisters again…"
"Do you know where they are?"
"No... Last I heard they were still in hiding... in Germany. And then I... lost contact with them," came her whispered answer. "More than a year without any news. I do not even know if they are alive or dead."
Tears trickled silently down her cheeks. Ronnie moved to wrap his arm around her shoulders, holding her close against him while she cried. She cried until she fell asleep again and only then did Ronnie allow himself to rest. Confident that Sam would keep close watch, he rested his head on Rachel's and slept, mother and child wrapped close in his arms.
Oh, my heart, my heart!!!
ReplyDeleteOn all counts…. Melting, breaking, warmed clear through…. And sorrow enough to fill in all the cracks.
DeletePrecisely!!
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