The Day the Flowers Died (28 page)

Rebecca drove to the hospital in her car, the Christmas gift
from her father, and her mind wandered back to the last Christmas
with her papa and mother. If she had explained her feelings more
tactfully about Eli then, could events have occurred differently
between her and her family? She remembered the warm embrace her
papa gave her when she thanked him for her present, and the
indifference he showed while she and her mother engaged in volatile
discourse.

She regretted not asking her papa at the time what he thought
about her dating Eli, before her mother could inject him with her
poison.  But nothing could be done about it now. Her mother
shaped and influenced his actions.  He was a wise man when it
came to business and naïve when it came to matters of his
heart.  He always intended to do the rights things, but
usually managed to become muddled between social expectations and
his wife’s desires.

Rebecca pulled the car into the hospital lot, turned off the
engine and locked the door.  Her thoughts returned to the
present day and she focused on the events about to unfold at the
hospital.  Always a hectic place to work, since her wedding
and moving in with Eli, gossip about her personal relation with a
Jew only made days at the hospital more stressful.  But
Rebecca ignored the idle words that floated inside those walls and
concentrated instead on her duties to help the victims and heal the
ailments. The injured and sick flooded the front office until
nurses escorted many into exam rooms in the back.

A few patients remained waiting for care.  An elderly
woman, with a wrinkled face, angular nose and heavy brows, hunched
over in one of the chairs.  She coughed in her tissue held
tightly in her hands.  Next to her sat an unusually tall man
with dark blond hair and sky blue eyes who held his left arm,
grimacing in pain. On the other side of the room sat two young
women in their twenties. Their dark hair, twisted into braids,
laced around their head and contrasted against their light blue
eyes. They sat with their hands clasped in their laps over a German
designed dress.  Though not identical twins, they had similar
features.  The secretary at the front desk called to the tall
man and gestured for him to come to her.

“The doctor will see you now.” She reached her hand out to help
him with his paper for signature. A doctor in a long white coat
appeared at the swinging door dividing the front office from the
patient rooms and then the tall man disappeared.  The elderly
woman coughed again, her tissue becoming twisted in use, and she
tossed it into one of the trash bins near the door.  Rebecca
stood from behind the front desk, away from her filing work and
handed the elderly woman a few more tissues from the box on the
counter. The secretary glared at Rebecca and then returned to her
own duties of answering phone calls and arranging doctor
schedules.

Thirty minutes later, a nurse ushered in the twins through the
swinging door and led them to a patient room. The elderly woman
remained still in her seat. An hour later, over five of the
patients who had received their care finished their visit and left
the hospital.  Rebecca gazed into the waiting room where the
elderly woman remained and two new patients sat down in once empty
seats. The secretary played with her blonde curls under her nurse’s
white cap and called out to one of the young men sitting in the
waiting room.  Rebecca swung her head around in the
secretary’s direction while her lips twisted and her eyes grew
sharp corners of disbelief.

“That woman has been waiting for over three hours,” Rebecca
fumed.

“A few more hours isn’t going to hurt her.”

Rebecca stood too close to her and, as if to explain her actions
and return Rebecca to her seat at the other side, she said, “We
don’t see Jews before Aryans.” Rebecca looked away from the counter
and at the elderly woman still waiting in unprecedented contentment
for someone to call her name or gesture for her to move forward.
Rebecca fell back into her chair, disgusted at how Nazi perversion
affected the hospital.

Rebecca could not sit easily in her chair, knowing the disregard
for this elderly woman and quickened her step through the swinging
doors.  She marched over to the doctor standing nearby at the
sink, the same doctor who made unwanted advances at her.  The
doctor stepped back at her forceful advancement.

“Is anyone going to tend to the elderly woman who’s been waiting
more than patiently for the past three hours for care?” Rebecca
demanded.

The doctor’s mouth fell open and his words lingered in an
uncommon silence, uncertain of how to respond to her brash
request.  He was not a particularly cruel man and yet, he
didn’t fight against the grain either.  He knew Rebecca loved
a Jew and to him this made her all the more sensitive to their
plight.

Still, when he gazed into Rebecca’s eyes, he remembered all the
feelings he had for her while they worked side by side. When he
learned of her relationship with Eli, he managed to conceal those
feelings, but only if he kept his distance.  At this
confrontation, he was unequipped to handle the rush of emotion that
exuded from him.  Any quarrels he might have had about tending
to a Jew faded and he only desired to assist Rebecca in whatever
way he could.  Words slipped from his lips unchecked.

“Bring her to me,” he said.

Rebecca smiled at the doctor in a silent smile behind her eyes
where only he could see it, then she returned to the front desk to
retrieve the patient. Rebecca wheeled her into the room she had
shared many times with the doctor. He waited for her to arrive and,
though Rebecca suspected his kindness had more to do with herself
than with the patient, she felt grateful nonetheless.

“Thank you, doctor,” Rebecca responded while helping the patient
out of the wheelchair and into her hospital bed. She positioned her
head on the pillow and caught her grey eyes.

“The doctor will take care of you now.” The wrinkled chin of the
woman stretched with her smile as she closed her eyes. Rebecca
assisted the doctor with each request more attentively than she had
with other patients, knowing the doctor risked his own reputation
caring for this woman.

By the end of the day, Rebecca was exhausted and eager to arrive
at her apartment where Eli would draw a warm bath and have a nice
dinner ready for her to eat. The way they had reversed roles was
unconventional, but it worked for them in this time, this place
where everything seemed to be turning upside down. Upon entering
her apartment, the gust of wind from the open door blew a paper off
the side wall table and onto the floor.  Rebecca picked it up
with her tired hands and sat on the sofa to read it.

Rebecca, 

I have gone to collect my immigration documentation for my
family.

Dinner is in the fridge and I will be back soon.  Take
Care.

Love You My Dearest,

Eli 

Eli met up with Aaron outside the apartment and drove in Eli’s
blue car to the old building they had stopped at in April. 
The haggard man in the back smoked his cigarette as he opened the
door for the two of them to enter.  Mr. Reiner and his wife
were present.  She poured Eli, Aaron and her husband a cup of
tea before returning to her seat on the middle sofa with her
husband.

Mr. Reiner adjusted his spectacles and then looked over the
documents one last time before closing that file and handing it to
Eli.  It contained stamped passports with all the paperwork
required for Aaron and his parents, and likewise for Eli’s
family.  The tall, grey haired man bent down to retrieve eight
more forms from his desk.

“These are letters from the immigration office declaring your
approval to enter America. The birth certificate information is
included along with a photo of each family member in the passport,”
Mr. Reiner said.

Eli opened the file and caressed the passports as if he held
Rebecca’s own hand.

The first page was marked with a J for Juden and the following
page held a photo.  The next page was a visa approved for
America and the fourth page was a German police permit allowing
departure.  The forms that followed were a German police
record of each individual and two affidavits from American citizens
whom Eli had never heard of.

“Thank you so much.” Eli stretched his hand out to shake Mr.
Reiner’s.

“Yes, thank you,” Aaron said with easiness in his words. The
wrinkled and serious form Aaron’s face usually held soothed.

“Take good care of your documents.  We will not be able to
forge them again if they are lost or damaged,” the old man
warned.

“I understand,” Eli said and Aaron nodded.  As Eli and
Aaron turned to exist the way they had come, a loud screech from a
vehicle sounded outside the front of the building.

The man’s wife drew back the curtain and hissed, “Gestapo!”
Moments blurred with the four hurrying and orchestrating their
movements. The old man pulled Eli by the arm to the back of the
room where a table blocked a closet.  Aaron followed.

“Quick, you must be unseen, unheard.  Stay here.” Shoving
them into the closet, the old man’s voice whispered against the
cacophony of the soldier’s jackboots pounding hard on the road as
they marched toward the building.  The entire event didn’t
take two minutes.  Eli and Aaron squeezed close as they
listened.

“Herr Reiner, you and your wife are under arrest for falsifying
government documents and for aiding and abetting Jews in illegal
exit of this country.  Make it easier on yourself and give us
your files and names.”

“I…I have no files.”

The two men heard a slap and Mr. Reiner groan.

“Don’t hurt him!” Mrs. Reiner screamed.  A scuffle ensued
and they heard the elderly woman hit the floor, her nails
scratching the table where the immigration papers just sat.

Aaron gripped Eli’s shoulder, his eyes wide with fear.  Eli
shook his head for silence.

“Helga!”  Mr. Reiner cried out just before a Gestapo
officer growled.

“Names, old man!  We want names!”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

The next sound Aaron and Eli heard came from the old man
crashing into furniture, knocking it over.  It sounded like
something wooden broke.

“Oh, god, you’re bleeding,” his wife whimpered.

“We have to do something,” Aaron whispered into Eli’s ear.

“What?  We’re locked in here.”

Before they could arrive at a rescue plan, the Gestapo dragged
the old couple down the hall and to the sidewalk.

The sounds echoed through Eli and Aaron’s distressed ears, but
neither heard the old man or his wife yell out in question or in
defense.  The jackboots pounded up and down the building in
patterned search.

Moments later, the voice of the haggard man in the back of the
building startled Aaron as he shouted, “Why are you doing this?
Where are you taking me?” He screamed, running the words into one
sentence.

“Who are the forged documents made for?” A sharp voice from the
Gestapo asked.  The haggard man shouted out in pain as if his
arm had been twisted.  “We want all the names,” the Gestapo
shouted again.

Aaron stared at Eli in fear, an expression Eli was not familiar
with seeing on Aaron’s face.  He had often seen his serious
brooding side and he had on serendipitous occasion seen his jovial
side.  But Aaron never let fear escape him, especially in the
courtroom.  Eli stood beside Aaron with trembling hands. 
Both of them breathed heavily and yet more quietly then they ever
had in their lives.  Their hearts raced and Eli felt he could
faint except for the possible need to escape keeping him alert.

Another twist to the man’s arm and then another agonized scream
sounded before the front door slammed shut.  Then
silence.  The screaming was gone and the raucous noise caused
by fighting bodies smashing into furniture vanished.  Eli and
Aaron stood motionless, thoughts still caught in the disturbing
events.

Eli’s voice broke the silence.  “Can we come out? Is it
over?” He whispered to Aaron like a younger brother to an older
brother.  Aaron delayed his answer with a hesitant departure
of his ear from the door.

“I think so, but the door is locked.”

Eli ran his hands across the door, feeling for nails or hinges
or anything to take the door down. “I wish I had a screwdriver,” he
mumbled.  “I could remove the doorknobs.”

“Will this work?” Aaron pulled a small knife out of his pocket
and held it out.  Enough light came from the crack in the door
for Eli to see.  After several moments of feverish work, he
got the doorknobs off and the two men pushed their way to
freedom.

Eli and Aaron walked to Eli’s apartment rather than drive. They
ducked down alleyways and side streets, hiding behind bushes or
parked cars whenever they saw traffic.  It took hours to get
to Eli’s home and they arrived after sunset.

With a sigh of relief, Eli looked to the fourth floor and saw
the light on in his kitchen window.  “Let’s go.”

He took one step out of the shadows across the street and Aaron
jerked him back.

“Look.” Aaron nodded with his chin to the far corner where two
dark figures lurked.  Every time a vehicle passed or someone
walked by, the dark figures inspected each one.

“I’m being watched,” Eli concluded.

“Then so am I.” Aaron stuffed his hands in his pockets, his mind
a flurry of panic.  “Where shall we go?”

“We must stay away from our families. I would die if Gestapo
arrested Rebecca.” His mind fluttered in thought, but the only
images he could manage were ones of Reiner and his wife being
dragged into the back of the Gestapo’s military truck.

“The swing club.” Aaron’s eyes lit up while his lips
grinned.  “There’s always a mixed crowd to blend in with.”