The Darkest Canyon Read online

  THE DARKEST

  CANYON

  By

  USA Today Bestselling Author

  Roberta Kagan

  Copyright © 2019 by Roberta Kagan

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

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  DISCLAIMER

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  PROLOGUE

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  CHAPTER 9

  CHAPTER 10

  CHAPTER 11

  CHAPTER 12

  CHAPTER 13

  CHAPTER 14

  CHAPTER 15

  CHAPTER 16

  CHAPTER 17

  CHAPTER 18

  CHAPTER 19

  CHAPTER 20

  CHAPTER 21

  CHAPTER 22

  CHAPTER 23

  CHAPTER 24

  CHAPTER 25

  CHAPTER 26

  CHAPTER 27

  CHAPTER 28

  CHAPTER 29

  CHAPTER 30

  CHAPTER 31

  CHAPTER 32

  CHAPTER 33

  CHAPTER 34

  CHAPTER 35

  CHAPTER 36

  CHAPTER 37

  CHAPTER 38

  CHAPTER 39

  CHAPTER 40

  CHAPTER 41

  CHAPTER 42

  CHAPTER 43

  CHAPTER 44

  CHAPTER 45

  CHAPTER 46

  CHAPTER 47

  CHAPTER 48

  CHAPTER 49

  CHAPTER 50

  CHAPTER 51

  CHAPTER 52

  CHAPTER 53

  CHAPTER 54

  CHAPTER 55

  CHAPTER 56

  CHAPTER 57

  CHAPTER 58

  CHAPTER 59

  CHAPTER 60

  CHAPTER 61

  CHAPTER 62

  CHAPTER 63

  CHAPTER 64

  CHAPTER 65

  CHAPTER 66

  CHAPTER 67

  CHAPTER 68

  CHAPTER 69

  CHAPTER 70

  CHAPTER 71

  CHAPTER 72

  CHAPTER 73

  CHAPTER 74

  CHAPTER 75

  CHAPTER 76

  CHAPTER 77

  CHAPTER 78

  CHAPTER 79

  CHAPTER 80

  PROLOGUE

  A Small Jewish Neighborhood, in the Outskirts of Lodz Poland . . . 1938

  Lila Rabinowitz lay on her bed panting heavily. Her brow was knitted, and her golden-blonde curls stuck to her neck wet with sweat. She held her breath, unable to speak, until she heard the infant, she’d just given birth to, let out a hearty cry. Lila breathed a sigh of relief as a smile washed over her face. When she sat up on her elbow to look at the baby, a scarlet bloodstain, resembling the shape and color of a red velvet rose, had formed on the white cotton blanket that modestly covered her bare bottom.

  It was an early spring morning, and the sun shone brightly through the bedroom window.

  “It’s a boy,” the old midwife, Rivka, said.

  “A boy . . . a son! I am so happy,” Lila whispered.

  The old midwife cleaned the baby with warm water and a clean rag. Then she wrapped him in a blanket and lay him in his mother’s arms.

  Lila gently removed the blanket and counted her son’s fingers and toes. She marveled at the shape of his tiny ears. Then she smiled. “Look at him,” she said, her voice filled with awe and just above a whisper. “He’s perfect. God has created a perfect child.”

  Rivka smiled. “Your husband, Ben, will be happy too.”

  Lila had known Rivka all her life. And if there was anyone she felt she could trust with her secrets, it was Rivka.

  “Yes, of course, he will.” Then Lila looked down at the baby, and tears began to form in the corners of her eyes. “But he’s going to be angry with me.”

  “Nu? Why?”

  “Because I can’t allow my son to be circumcised.” She was sweating, and there was fear in her eyes as the tears streamed down her cheeks. Rivka wiped Lila’s face with a wet rag.

  “What? You must. It’s Jewish law, Lila," Rivka said.

  “I know the law. And I prayed and prayed that I would have a girl so that I would never have to face this decision. But I can’t do it. You see, when I was just five, my mother had my little brother. You remember him; I know you do. You delivered him. He was a beautiful little boy. In my childlike mind, I used to make-believe that he was my baby. He was healthy and perfect, just like my son is now.” Lila looked into Rivka’s eyes. “Do you remember what happened to him? I’m sure you remember, Rivka.”

  “I remember. He bled to death from a botched circumcision.”

  “Yes, I will never forget the sounds of my mother screaming and wailing. My father’s face, white as alabaster. It was the worst day of my life. So you see why I can’t do it to my son. I refuse.”

  “But what about the child? You want him to be accepted as a Jew, don’t you?”

  “Of course. But not at the expense of losing him.”

  “It is unusual that a child will have problems from circumcisions. That was a rare case.”

  “I can’t take that risk. My little boy is perfect right now, just as he is. Just as God created him.”

  “You’re right. Ben is not going to be happy.” Rivka shook her head.

  “I don’t care. He can divorce me if he wants to. He can go to the rabbi and ask for a get, a Jewish divorce. But I can’t do it. I won’t.” Lila’s voice was raised. She hugged the child tightly to her breast. Tears ran down her cheeks.

  “You’re upsetting yourself. Please, don’t cry. This should be a happy time, not a sad one,” Rivka said, taking the hair out of Lila’s eyes.

  “I know, and I am very happy to have this wonderful baby boy.” Lila smiled through her tears.

  “Never mind right now about your concerns with the circumcision. I’m sure you and Ben will work it all out. Have you decided what you will call him?”

  “Moishe. I will call him Moishe. I promised Ben we would name the baby for his father who passed last year. Moishe was his father’s name. You see,
I am not so bad. I am giving the name of our firstborn to Ben’s family.”

  “Yes, that is good of you. And not only that, but it is a good name. A strong name. Moishe is the Yiddish name for Moses.”

  “Yes, that’s right, Rivka,” Lila said. “And may God grant him strength. And let him be a strong man—a man with his own mind. A man of God like the deliverer of our people.”

  “Aliva, from your mouth to God’s ears.” Rivka smiled. She looked into the blanket to see the baby’s tiny, scrunched-up face. “He is a handsome, little fellow, isn’t he?”

  Lila smiled.

  CHAPTER 1

  Winter 1939, Berlin

  Gretchen Schmidt wound the final pin curl of her friend Hilde’s wet hair. She had just finished bleaching Hilde’s hair from mousy brown to strawberry blonde. “How do you like the color?” she asked.

  “I do,” Hilde said. “You did a wonderful job. I was just hoping we might be able to make it a little lighter.”

  “I tried. This is the lightest it would go.” Gretchen had used a hair-lightening product that was produced by a French company known to be sympathetic to the Reich.

  “Oh, Gretchen, I wish I was naturally pretty like you,” Hilde said.

  “Don’t be silly. You are very pretty,” Gretchen lied. She’d known Hilde for many years, and although she knew Hilde considered them to be best friends, Gretchen didn’t. She felt sorry for Hilde. Hilde was an overweight girl with thin, lifeless hair and a less than attractive face. Hilde’s father had left her mother when Hilde was very young. Then when Gretchen and Hilde were in their late teens, Hilde was heartbroken when she told Gretchen how her mother committed suicide, leaving Hilde to fend for herself. Most people shunned Hilde, considering her to be strange, overbearing, and broken. But not Gretchen, who, because of her kind heart, found it difficult to say no to Hilde.

  “You really think so?” Hilde said, looking in the mirror at her hair again.

  Gretchen nodded.

  “I met someone,” Hilde blurted out. “He’s not nearly as handsome as Hann was but he really likes me. And I still can’t believe that Hann was so mad about Thea, that Jew bitch.”

  “It was a long time ago. Forget about Hann. Tell me a little more about your new boyfriend.”

  “It’s hard to understand how a Jew like Thea had that white-blonde hair, and I can’t get my hair any lighter than this.”

  “Let’s not worry about Thea or Hann. Come on, and tell me about your new fella while your hair dries.”

  Gretchen wished she could somehow hurry the drying process. Her nerves were on edge, but she dared not let Hilde see that she was distressed.

  “Let’s make a pot of coffee and have a couple of those sweet rolls I brought, and I’ll tell you all about him. And by the way, I have another surprise to tell you.”

  Hilde followed Gretchen into the kitchen. “Is this real coffee?” Gretchen asked as she put up a pot of water to boil.

  “Yes, it is!” Hilde smiled. “Look in the bag at all the food I brought you,” she said, proud and excited to be giving her friend such coveted gifts.

  “Oh my! Look at this,” Gretchen said. “You brought me sausage again. Bless you. And bread . . . and cheese!”

  “And two sweet rolls for us to eat right now.”

  “How did you ever get all of this food?” Gretchen asked. Hilde had been bringing small gifts of food to Gretchen for several months, but this was more than usual. And what a blessing it was. Gretchen desperately needed the food.

  “The man I’m dating’s name is Axel, and he is very important in the Nazi Party. He has connections.”

  “And he got you all of this food? You should have kept some of it for yourself.”

  “I have more at home,” Hilde said. “He also got me an interview for a job. A job that pays very handsomely.”

  “Oh! That’s wonderful.”

  “You see, we’ve been talking about getting married. And we both decided it was best if I could leave the factory and find a job that pays well so that we could save some money before we start our family,” Hilde said as Gretchen poured them both cups of steaming coffee.

  “You’ve been talking marriage with someone, and this is the first I am hearing about him?” Gretchen asked, pretending to scold her.

  “I wasn’t sure if I was going to accept.”

  “But you are?”

  “I think so,” Hilde answered.

  “Oh, Hilde, that’s wonderful,” Gretchen said. She stood up and felt Hilde’s hair; her hands were trembling. It was already beginning to dry. Good thing her hair is thin; it should dry quickly. I wish her hair was done so she could leave already. Every minute she’s here is dangerous, Gretchen thought.

  “Is it dry?” Hilde said, taking a large bite of her sweet roll.

  “Almost.”

  “That’s good. We still have a little time together, so let me tell you about my job interview. First off, it’s the reason that I wanted you to lighten my hair.”

  “For an interview?” Gretchen said, sitting down.

  “Yes, I wanted to look my best for the interview,” Hilde said. “Axel is in the SS. He works as a guard at a place called Buchenwald, located southwest of Berlin. He tried to get me a job there, but because I’m a woman it was not so easy. Then he heard about a camp opening just north of Berlin for women only. It’s called Ravensbrück. As soon as he heard about it he made immediate arrangements for me to join the SS-Gefolge, which is a Nazi organization for women. I needed to be a member to get the job.”

  “When are you going on your interview?” Gretchen asked.

  “Next week. But I have so much to do that I probably won’t get back here until after I’ve done the interview.”

  “I do wish you so much luck, Hilde. I really hope you get it.”

  “I am very excited about this job. You won’t believe it, but if I am hired I will earn 185.68 reichsmarks a month. I will have to live there, so they will take deductions for room and board, taxes, and social security. But, even so, I will still earn about 105.00. And let’s face it, that’s more than double what we earn at the factory, so we are going to both work for a few years and save as much as we can, and then I’ll quit and have children.”

  “Yes, it is a lot more than we earn at the factory. I make seventy-seven reichsmarks a month. And after I pay my bills, it doesn’t go very far.”

  “That’s what I’ve been earning at the factory too. And if I get this job, it will be so nice to have extra money. But Gretchen, the only thing that makes me sad is I that I will have to move, and I won’t see you as often as I do now. I will really miss our coffee chats. You are the best friend I’ve ever had.”

  “I know, Hilde. But this job will help you to live a better life.”

  “And from what I hear, the accommodations for the employees at Ravensbrück are very nice. My family was so poor, I’ve never lived in a nice place. Even before my father walked out on us, we were always struggling to survive. But at least he was around, bringing in some money. Then as soon as he left my mother, she couldn’t afford to keep up the rent, so we had to move into that rat-infested flat where I am living now. You know the truth about my mother; everyone knew she was an alcoholic and a whore.”

  “It’s all right, Hilde, you don’t have to talk about this. I know how hard it was for you growing up. We’ve discussed this many times. And it’s all right. It’s over now,” Gretchen said in a soothing tone.

  But Hilde went on talking. She was so wrapped up in the misery of her memories that she didn’t even hear Gretchen. “I was always so ashamed of my mother. She was hard on me too. Very mean, when I was growing up. She blamed me for my father leaving us.”

  “I know, and as I have told you many times before, none of this was your fault. You were just a child, Hilde. You did the best you could.”

  “Then one day, I came home to find her dead from an overdose. She’d taken some kind of drugs. I don’t know what she took. But it was horrible, Gretc
hen, horrible. She was laying on the floor. Oh, I can’t tell you how awful it was.” Hilde covered her eyes with both hands.

  “Shhh, Hilde. It’s over. You’re safe now,” Gretchen said.

  “I know, but when I think about my mother and all the terrible things she did, I can’t believe what I went through.”

  Gretchen took Hilde in her arms and hugged her. “Shhh, don’t think about the past. It doesn’t do any good to dwell on it. Instead, why don’t you tell me about your new job? Come on, smile a little, please. And tell me all about it,” Gretchen said.

  “Well, as you know, with what the factory pays me I haven’t been able move out of that terrible place I’ve been living. So at least I will have a decent place to live if I get this job.”

  “I understand. If it weren’t for my father’s savings, I would have to leave my flat. But I am fortunate he lived very frugally and put aside a little bit of money. So far, between what he had saved and what I earn at the factory, I am able to make the rent every month.”

  “Didn’t your father also work as the handyman here, in the building, so he could pay a lesser rent?”

  “Yes, he did. My father made a decent living as a professor, but he wanted to save money. He was frugal like that. And so he helped out in the building. After he left for the army, I started to take on small jobs for the other tenants. Like changing light bulbs, small plumbing, and electricity problems.” Gretchen smiled.

  “You know how to do all of these things?”

  “Light bulbs, yes. Plumbing and electricity . . . well . . . let’s just say I am learning.”

  “Your apartment is certainly nicer than my flat. Every time I try to save even a morsel of bread in the cupboard, the rats get it. So I am happy to leave that place.”

  “Of course you are. I understand. And you deserve to live in a nice place. I was just wondering, how far is this camp, actually? You did say the name was Ravensbrück?”

  “Yes, that’s the name. It’s in a town called Ravensbrück, which is about fifty miles or so north of Berlin, I think. Still, Gretchen, I know that I’ll miss you. But I’ll come back whenever I can to visit you. And I’ll write when I can too. That’s if I get the job, of course. But I am hoping that Axel has enough influence to convince the bosses there to give me a chance. I don’t have any real skills or any advanced education, as you know. I hope they won’t require any special skills. I have to admit, the idea of a good job is so much more exciting than the idea of marrying Axel.”