And...Who Is the Real Mother Read online

  It was a dangerous mission to try and smuggle such a young child out of the ghetto. Anything could happen. If the baby awakened she would cry, alerting the guards and that would get them both killed. But Karl was used to danger and he felt sorry for the baby. So together, he and Fruma put together a plan to smuggle Eidel out of the ghetto.

  This is the beginning of Eidel’s story…

  CHAPTER ONE

  Karl Abendstern carefully tucked the warm bundle that was Zofia’s young daughter, Eidel, under his arm like a sack of potatoes. He had insisted that Fruma bring the child so that he could see how big she was before he agreed to their plan.

  “She’s not an infant, so it’s going to be difficult for me carrying her this way. I will only have the use of one arm,” Karl said.

  “Don’t worry. I have some fabric. I will make a pouch for you to carry her on your back that will make it easier,” Fruma answered.

  Karl nodded.

  Although Eidel was three years old, she was very small and light.

  Poor child, she’s been starving in the ghetto, Karl thought as he looked down into the sleeping, innocent face. The baby was breathing softly. They had probably given her something so that she would sleep through the meeting. As Karl looked at the tiny face, he remembered the story his father had told him when he was just a child. It was the story of Moses, who was fetched from the Nile by the Pharaoh’s sister. How odd it was that looking at this sleeping toddler brought back the biblical tale he’d loved when he was a boy, so long ago. Well, there was no time for sentiment. He had work to do. Once he was done making the arrangements for his plan with Fruma, he still had to do his nightly work. Every night, Karl navigated his way in and out of the Warsaw ghetto to bring back goods to sell on the black market. It was a daunting task, but people depended on him, and not only that, he and his girl friend, Ada, needed the food as well. Two days prior when Fruma, the old lady who was living with Zofia, had come to him, he had immediately refused. But she had been so persistent that he finally agreed to see the child. Then tonight, as he looked at the little girl, Fruma found his soft spot again. She was a wizened old woman and she had dug through his tough exterior until she found the soft heart that beat inside of him. Fruma grabbed onto his sleeve and with her eyes pleading she’d said to him, “If you don’t take her, the child will die. Her name is Eidel, look at her.”

  “Are you her grandmother?” Karl asked.

  “I am a dear friend of her mother’s,” Fruma answered.

  “You are her mother?” Karl asked, turning to Zofia.

  Zofia nodded.

  “You are willing to let your child go without you?” Karl asked.

  Before Zofia could answer Fruma said, “What choice does her mother have? Eidel has a chance to survive, if you can deliver her to our friend Helen Dobinski. If not, I am quite sure Eidel will be dead within a year. Do you want the blood of this little girl on your hands?”

  Karl had no doubt the old witch was right. Between the disease, starvation, filth, and overcrowding, a child so young had a slim chance of making it through this Nazi-made hell.

  “Are you sure that this woman, Helen, will take her?” Karl stared into Fruma’s eyes.

  “Yes. I am sure. Everything has been arranged. Helen is expecting you,” Fruma said.

  “How? How did you arrange it?” he asked.

  “That’s none of your business. All you need to know is that Helen will take the child.”

  “It is my business.” Karl looked into Fruma’s eyes and growled. “I’m the one who will be hiding from the Nazis while making my way through Warsaw with a drugged up little girl on my hands. I’m putting my life on the line for you. I don’t want to get to Helen’s house only to find out that she doesn’t want any part of this. You either tell me the details or you can find someone else to help you.”

  “All right, so you are demanding to know how I put this whole thing together?” Fruma glared at him. “If you must know, I’ll tell you. Zofia and I do embroidery work for the Nazis. I have become friends with the woman who brings us the fabric and threads. I had to find a way to help Eidel so I took a risk and asked her to take a message to Helen for me. She was afraid, but she did it for the child. I asked her to ask Helen if she would take Zofia’s daughter in to live with her. Helen answered just as I knew she would. She promised to care for Eidel as if she were her own. I’ve known Helen a long time and I trust her.”

  “You have to understand my point of view. It’s not going to be easy to carry out this plan for you. I just wanted to make sure that there won’t be any problems when I arrive at your friend’s home.”

  “You will get paid well. That diamond is worth plenty.”

  “To hell with your diamond. If I am dead what good will it be to me then?”

  “You are taking a risk, yes. But you needn’t be worried about Helen. I have a promise that she is expecting you. All you have to do is make sure you deliver Eidel to her safely.”

  Karl didn’t want to get involved in this. But he couldn’t say no. His conscience haunted him. So he agreed.

  “Meet me right here after sundown in two days. Make sure that the child is ready to go. Give her some strong Šljivovica to make sure she sleeps. I can’t have her waking up and crying. Is that understood?”

  Fruma nodded.

  Two days passed and then Karl, Fruma, Gitel, and little Eidel met in the alleyway. Karl felt sure that the past two days that Zofia had spent with her daughter had flown by far too quickly for the mother. But there was little time for him to think about Zofia’s feelings. He had a mission, and he had his daily work. The night was only so long and if he were to be back before sunrise he had to leave now with Eidel.

  Zofia wept softly. It touched Karl’s heart. She was so young; probably still a teenager. In many ways. she reminded him of his sister Leah, whom he hadn’t seen since the night he’d escaped Berlin after he’d killed a boy in the Hitler Youth. For a moment, he allowed himself to think of Leah. He quickly said a silent Hebrew prayer for his sister and the rest of his family, asking God to keep them safe.

  “I did as you asked; I gave her something to make sure she would sleep,” Fruma said, pulling Karl back to the present. Then she took a thick fabric blanket out from under her dress.

  “I made this thing for you like I promised. It’s sort of like a kangaroo pouch, but backward. You’ll slip it over your shoulders then I’ll put Eidel inside, there are holes for her legs. She’ll ride on your back. You will have both of your hands free. I’ve tested the pouch; it is strong enough to hold her. This will make it easier for you to carry her.”

  Karl slipped the contraption over each of his arms. Then the old hag took Eidel and gently placed her in the sack. The child still slept as Fruma placed a kiss on the top of her blond curls. Gitel kissed Eidel, and then Zofia kissed her child’s cheek, her lips, her eyes, and gently touched her hand.

  “I am sorry, but I have to go now,” Karl said.

  “God be with you,” Fruma whispered to Eidel. Then she turned to Karl. “And God be with you, too.”

  Karl wished he could reassure the mother that her child would be all right, but all he could promise was that he would try his best to get her to Helen safely. He gave Zofia a sad smile and rubbed her shoulder.

  “I’ll do everything I can to make this work,” he said to Zofia.

  Then with the lithe ease of a panther, Karl climbed up the broken bricks in the alleyway and scaled the wall of the ghetto. Karl navigated through the darkness until he found the opening where he escaped into the city every night. He’d been dealing with a group of Poles from the underground for a while now, Armia Krajowa, the Home Army. They sold him food, which he brought back into the ghetto, some of it to sell on the black market and some for himself and Ada, the woman whom he loved. He would meet with his Polish connection in a little while, but first he had to hurry and fulfil his promise and deliver the child to Helen.

  Karl hugged the building as he manoeuvred cat-like through the streets. He tucked into a dark alleyway when he saw a group of German soldiers walking by. They’d missed him by seconds, just seconds. His heart beat wildly. Karl turned his head and looked behind him into Eidel’s sleeping face.

  Just stay asleep, he thought. He hadn’t gone this far into the city since his confinement in the ghetto. The men from the black market were willing to meet him closer to the ghetto walls. But now he was in a lower-middle-class residential neighbourhood, searching for Helen’s address.

  Before he’d been arrested and sent to the ghetto, he had lived in Warsaw so he had some idea of where he was. From what he remembered, he was fairly sure the apartment building he was seeking was on the next street to the left. Moving quickly while staying hidden in the shadows, he made his way through the dark city.

  Again, he checked on Eidel. Thank God, she was still asleep. She was sleeping so soundly that he hoped she was alive. For a moment, he wondered what the old witch had given her. But there was no time to check the baby or to speculate on what kind of drugs she’d been given. Right now, seconds counted. He found the building.

  Get rid of the child as quickly as possible, he thought.

  The doorbell read “Nikodem and Helen Dobinski.”

  Karl rang the bell.

  Three flights up. Karl took the stairs two at a time.

  Helen opened the door quickly and pulled him inside. The apartment was sparsely furnished. There was a slight odour of cooked cabbage.

  “You must be Karl Abendstern?” Helen asked.

  “This is Eidel.” Karl handed the baby to Helen. He’d done his job. He turned to go, but Helen stopped him by grabbing his sleeve.

  “How is her mother? How is Zofia?”

  “As good as can be expected. She is depending on you to take care of her baby.”

  “Please tell her that Eidel will be safe here and that she will be waiting for her when she returns. Tell her not to worry … please.”

  Karl nodded. Too much time spent already on this project. He had to meet with his contacts then get back to the ghetto with supplies before sunrise.

  “I have to go,” he said.

  Helen nodded and opened the door. She was holding the baby in her arms.

  Karl peeked out the door of Helen’s apartment. No one in the hallway. Without a goodbye, he climbed down the stairs and out of the apartment building. Helen closed the door behind him. Karl began to race quickly towards his meeting with the underground but then something told him to stop for just a moment. Karl felt a shiver run up his spine; he felt as if he were touched by the hand of God. He looked up at the stars and said a prayer in Hebrew, asking God to watch over the helpless little girl he’d just left in a stranger’s arms.

  Then Karl Abdenstern faded into the darkness.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Nikodem Dobinski walked out of the bathroom. He carried a rag that he was using to blot his face dry. He’d just returned home following twelve hours of work at a tedious job packaging razor blades in the back of the Polonus razor factory. His work always left him feeling grimy so he spent his first fifteen minutes at home washing his face and hands with cool water to rejuvenate before his evening meal. Every morning, he left the house before the sun peeked through the clouds in order to arrive on time for his shift. Then it was already growing dark outside by the time he walked through the factory gates and headed back home. Except for Sunday, when he was off work, Nikodem never saw daylight.

  He entered the living room to see his wife, Helen, holding a youngster in her arms. At first he thought it was their son, Lars, then he realized that the child was wrapped in a pink blanket and was much smaller than Lars. He had a bad feeling in his gut.

  “Helen?” Nik walked over to his wife and removed the cover over the baby’s face. “Who is this?” he asked, but he already knew what Helen had done. Nik shook his head, then throwing his hands up in the air asked, “What did you agree to?”

  Helen had been talking to him about taking the Jewish child of a friend of hers into their home, and he’d been adamantly against it.

  “It’s Eidel. Zofia’s daughter. Zofia Weiss. Remember?”

  “Of course I remember, Helen. How could I forget? You have been talking about doing this for a week and I told you that I was not going to allow you to do it. I would think you would remember that. The Nazis hate Poles. You think they will take pity on you if they find out that you’ve taken in a Jewish child? I said you were not to do this when you asked me about it a week ago. Try to remember, Helen, that I said no. No! Do you know what that means? NO? You’ve defied me. Why?”

  “Because, Nik. I’m sorry, but I had to. I couldn’t leave an innocent baby to suffer and starve in that terrible ghetto. It’s a horrible thing that they are doing to the Jews, Nik.”

  “Yes, I agree with you, but you are forgetting something. You are not a German. You’re a Pole and that means that you are one step away from being right there in the ghetto with them. Or worse, you could be dead. The Nazis would kill you and not think twice, they would kill us both. In fact, if you don’t care about yourself or me, just know that they wouldn’t hesitate to kill your son. Do you care about Lars, Helen? The Nazis are heartless people. You know that if Poles are caught harboring Jews they are immediately sentenced to death. There will be no discussion, Helen. You won’t be able to sway them the way you do to me. I am telling you … death. Do you understand what this means to us? You realize what you’re asking of me, of us, of our family? The best thing you can do is to get rid of that child. Get rid of her now. Throw her outside. I don’t care what you do, but get her out of here.”

  “Look at her, Nik. She’s a beautiful little girl. I am going to tell everyone that my sister died and she left her baby to my care.”

  “You don’t have a sister, Helen. Are you crazy? All of our friends know you are an only child. You’re doing a real dance with danger here and I can’t believe you’re so headstrong. I have been getting you out of trouble since we met but this time I won’t be able to save you. If the Nazis find out we are doomed.”

  “Yes, I know, Nik. I know. I have to think of another story to tell people. I can’t put her outside. She is so small and helpless. I couldn’t just turn my back on a little girl. What if it was Lars? What if someone turned his back on him?”

  “But your lies are absurd. The further you venture from the truth, the less convincing the lie. Your sister left you a child? For God’s sake, Helen.” He shook his head then folded his arms across his chest. “You are digging a grave for us. For all of us, you, me, and Lars,” he said.

  “All right, all right,” she stammered. She looked at him and held the baby tighter. “Then how does this sound? I will say a woman friend of my family who lived on a farm died and left the baby with no one to care for her. I will tell them that the woman was Polish. Please, Nik, we can’t be as cold-blooded as the Nazis. We can’t throw this innocent little one out to be eaten by the wolves.”

  “Helen, my God.” His eyes locked with hers. “What am I going to do with you?” He sunk into a chair looking at her, his eyes filled with worry and defeat.

  “You and Lars have such a wonderful relationship and I am happy that you do. I love Lars with all my heart. But, as you know, I have always wanted a daughter.”

  “We can try to have another child. Don’t be crazy, Helen. Please. Get rid of this girl. She is a Jew. This can only mean trouble for us,” he tried again to convince her, but he knew he’d lost.

  “I know you. I have known you most of my life. You are a hard man, Nik, but underneath that hard shell you wear to protect yourself is a heart, a warm heart. That is why I love you and why I married you.”

  He shook his head. She was a stubborn woman, but she was right. He did have a heart, and he couldn’t throw that little girl out to be found and murdered by Nazis, not in good conscience.

  “Damn it, Helen. I hope this doesn’t cost us our lives, and even worse…our son’s…our Lars.”

  “But what if this child was Lars, Nik? What if Lars was alone and helpless and we had to send him to live with strangers so he wouldn’t starve or die of disease? Wouldn’t you hope that those strangers would be willing to take a risk in order to save our son?”

  He nodded and turned away in frustration. “I can’t talk about this now. I’m tired and I’m hungry.”

  “I know. I have your dinner ready. It’s on the stove.”

  He sat down at the table. Helen laid Eidel on a blanket on the floor. Above their heads, a picture of Helen hung on the wall. It was a beautiful oil painting that Nik had spent hours working on when he and Helen were first married.

  “She’s so tired and limp. I have never seen Lars sleep like that,” Nik said looking down at Eidel. “Are you sure she’s alive?”

  “Yes. I checked her. She is breathing, just sleeping very soundly. They doped her up so she wouldn’t cry when the man from the black market took her out of the ghetto,” Helen answered.

  “I hope whatever they gave her didn’t affect her brain.” Nik took the fork and began eating. “All we need is a half-wit on top of everything else.”

  Helen frowned at him.

  I hate when he says things like that but at least he has stopped telling me that I have to get rid of her. Ultimately, he is my husband and he is the man of the house so he will have the final say so.

  Helen placed her own food in front of her. Even though the Poles got more rations than the Jews, they were still starving. But Helen was slender and young, she didn’t require a lot of food to be satisfied so she always gave part of her portion to her husband. Nik was gripping the fork as he chewed quietly. She glanced back over at Eidel, who was sleeping with her thumb in her mouth.

  “Nik?” She had to ask him. Before things went any further, she had to get his verbal agreement.