The Day the Flowers Died (29 page)

“But they’re in Hamburg.  We’ll have to take buses,” Eli
groaned.

“There’s a local club across town.” Aaron gritted his
teeth.  “I’ve been there with Jacob.”

As they prepared their escape from the looming grip of the Nazis
on the streets and into the cloak of lights, colors, and sounds of
the local swing club, Eli gripped Aaron’s shoulder from behind.

“If we don’t make it out of this, I want you to know you’ve been
a good friend to me and I wouldn’t want to be on these roads with
anyone else.”

“Don’t say ‘if we don’t’. When we do, Eli, when we do.” Aaron
nodded to confirm his words and Eli returned the nod.

The swing sounds permeated the room and reverberated against the
walls, seeping onto the nearby streets.  The club was not full
of swingers at this earlier hour, but a few couples danced to the
practice routines of the band.  Despite the elated music and
lively atmosphere, a cloud of defeat hung over Eli.  In the
pit of his stomach his nerves twisted into knots as his mind
panicked over the Nazis waiting by his apartment, so close to his
Rebecca.

Aaron’s stomach growled and they both knew they needed to eat
something.  They went outside and ducked into a side street to
consider their options.  The local markets offered an easy
opportunity, situated on the sidewalks under canopies, but Nazi
youth infested them and neither Aaron nor Eli could afford the
chance of being seen.  Eli stared at Aaron and they both knew
what they had to do to eat.  Hunger would only worsen and
neither knew how long they would have to hide out on the streets
before they could return home to their families.

“I’ll do it.” Aaron grimaced.

“No, I will,” Eli protested.  “I’m better at this kind of
thing.”

“No, I got us into this mess.  I took you to Reiner.” Aaron
concluded and pushed Eli back, then darted off like a rabbit
fleeing from bloodhounds. Aaron blended behind a family of four,
passing the market on the sidewalk. He kept his eyes ahead while
his fingers snatched an apple.  It wasn’t a full meal, but the
two could share it to alleviate hunger pangs.

Aaron followed the family of four to the end of the sidewalk and
twisted around the block, ducking and bending to keep out of the
Nazis’ sight as he made his way back to Eli.

“I’ll do it next time,” Eli stated.  Aaron smiled in his
nod and they both took a bite out the apple while they cowered on a
side street.  The clouds darkened, the heavens opened, and
rain poured over Eli and Aaron.

“Can you believe this?” Eli groused and turned up his jacket
collar.  “What else can go wrong?”

“C’mon.” Aaron tossed the apple core away and led his soaked
friend back to the swing club.

* * *

Rebecca hurried to the sound of pounding on her apartment
door.  She threw on her silk white robe and eased the door
open, familiar with the sounds of the Nazis. Dark hair swept high
in a loose bun on her head wrapped with a white lace ribbon. Strong
blue eyes complimented her porcelain skin.  A sting of blood
dripped off a cut on her left leg from a shave in the bathroom when
they first pounded.

The Gestapo, clad in black uniforms with breeches tucked into
their polished black jackboots, didn’t ask questions until they
pushed their uninvited presence into her room.  Their black
hats hid their short cut hair.  Visors hid their eyes. 
One of them pushed the door back into her arms and, even if she’d
tried, she wouldn’t have been able to stop it.  Four men
marched inside; one surveyed the room while the others rummaged
through her personal belongings. Opening drawers, they dumped the
contents on the floor. Pictures cracked when they tore them off the
walls and threw them down. A baton swung for the television screen,
and Rebecca gasped, but the thick glass didn’t break.

One of the men kept her occupied with questions. “Where is Eli
Levin?” The man’s large blue eyes did not deviate from looking into
hers.

“I…I…don’t know,” she said with thoughts of Eli circling in her
mind.

He grabbed her arm, squeezing it. 
“Where…is…Eli…Levin!”

“I don’t know,” she said again with certainty to the contorted
face towering over her.

“How long has he lived here?”

Rebecca knew a lie to the Gestapo would be found out and she
could pay for it with her life. “Since January of this year.” She
answered curtly and her hands began to tremble at the inquiry in
her home, her sanctuary, by what she and Eli both determined
deplorable — the very presence of German perversion. At the sound
of a plate breaking behind her, she grimace but refused to
look.

Hearing the truth, he released his grip.  “When will he
return?” The man’s words grew impatient and his face reddened.

“I don’t know.” Tears streamed down her cheekbones, highlighting
their pink tint.

The man turned from her and marched towards the door. The other
three followed, their boots crunching over broken glass, and the
door slammed shut.  Rebecca crumbled to the floor with her
face in her hands and her body curling up into her legs.  Her
body shook and her face and lips became puffy with tears. Pushing
herself off the floor after several moments frozen in fear, she ran
to the phone.  It rang twice and then a coarse voice
answered.

“E…Ezekiel?”

“Yes, is this Rebecca?” He could hear the distress in her
voice.  “What’s happened?”

“It’s Eli…” She swallowed her tears. “Gestapo is out looking for
him. They stopped by my house to question me. He mustn’t come
here.  You need to warn him.” The word Gestapo slipped from
her lips with bitterness and disgust.

“They’ll come by my house next,” Ezekiel answered in a calm
response, mulling over his thoughts.  “He can’t come here
either.”

“How are we going to warn him?” Rebecca’s pitch heightened.

“I don’t know,” Ezekiel said.  “Do you know where he
is?”

“He wrote me a note.” Rebecca began to sob again. “He said he
was going to get the visas for everyone.”

“Then, I’ll drive down there. I have an idea where it might be.”
Ezekiel spoke in a fatherly tone like he had rescued his son from
many mishaps before today. “Stay where you are in case he returns.
I’ll let Deborah know what’s going on.” Ezekiel sighed and then
gave words of comfort to her.  “If the Gestapo stopped by your
house looking for him, then they don’t know where he is
either.  Don’t worry, Rebecca.  He will turn up.”

“Alright.” Rebecca clung to Ezekiel’s words that he would find
Eli and return him to her. She waited all night for the call from
Ezekiel, unable to sleep, tossing in the bed where only she
lay.  It felt unnatural for her to sleep alone anymore. She
had grown familiar with Eli’s masculine smell, and his heavy
breathing before he fell asleep. She missed him.  Every sound
she heard, every creak and crack tossed her from the bed and to her
feet, longing and yet afraid for it to be Eli at the door.

As her neighbor exited his apartment, the sounds of shoes
against the steps swept Rebecca off her bed and she rushed to the
door, whispering Eli’s name.  Flinging the door open and
finding nothing but an empty hallway, the absence of Eli only drove
her madder. Her hands clung to her forehead and she rubbed her
temples, her fingers growing red and worn.  Then, she dropped
to her knees at her bedside.

“Please, God, return Eli to me. He needs to be home, warm and
safe.  I need him in my arms.  Please, I beg you.” Her
prayer turned to tears swelling up her reddened eyes. Her head
throbbed in dizzy thought. “Papa, is there anything you could do to
bring him back to me?” Rebecca spoke aloud as if her father stood
before her, as if her father wielded that kind of power.  For
a brief moment she thought he did and was there to grant her wish.
But the mirage before her soon faded and she wept as she realized
the only answer to her prayers was to wait.

* * *

Ezekiel drove frantically to the old building he knew his son
had been.  He knew the business of the owner there.  They
had known each other from Synagogue and from legal advice Ezekiel
had provided him over the years. The Jewish community knew to talk
to this man if one wanted forged immigration papers. His work began
in 1930 and increased in popularity in 1933.

Ezekiel pulled his BMW behind the building and entered through
the backdoor to find the latch broken and the door kicked in,
hanging on a nail. He walked in haste through the corridor leading
into the main room.  The room was in disarray with furniture
knocked over and broken.  Papers and books sprawled all over
the floor and furniture.

“Eli? Eli?” Ezekiel whispered. He stumbled over a fallen stool
and hit the closet. His eyes fixated on the outline of the pine
door and he squeezed his hands into the two center holes missing
door knobs and pulled the closet open. Cloths hung on hangers, but
the space was empty of his son. “Where are you?” he cried out.
Ezekiel scurried through the building, searching in the bathroom
and hallway until he found himself at the backdoor. He hung his
head, ambled to his car and drove home. Hands trembled as they
gripped the steering wheel and a few tears rolled from his
eyes.

* * *

Rebecca awoke the next morning to call into work sick and then
went downstairs to retrieve the mail in the cubby of the first
floor lobby.

The box held only one small thin envelope. Rebecca slipped her
hand in and her sharp fingernails scratched it as she pulled it out
of the box. She read over the address as she plodded upstairs to
her apartment.

The return address stated New York, America which meant the
letter came from her Aunt Martha. Getting the letter opener, she
inserted the end of the blade, slid it across the envelope and
pulled the letter out in one motion to find two pieces of paper
folded into thirds.  She perused the letter twice until she
was satisfied with the meaning and intent she drew from it.

Dear Rebecca and Eli, 

I have received your letter with its request and must first
congratulate you both on your marriage.  I do wish the very
best for both of you and, unlike my mother and your own mutti,
Deseire, I do not hold any grievance upon your choice.

I am happy to oblige with a letter of sponsorship, suggesting
the arrival of Eli Levin in New York City is both expected and
requested.  The letter is followed by this one.  It has
been certified with a notary and includes personal information to
establish my citizenship (which took some time to put
together).

However, please don’t pin your hopes on this letter as I’ve been
informed that many Jews have been turned away upon arriving by boat
and a few of the boats were simply turned away without even so much
as a glance at the passports the passengers carried.

The immigration offices and harbors are filled with immigrants
from all over the world requesting permission to stay in America.
Our President is restricting the numbers allowed entry to appease
the angst of the public, which has only increased in fear of losing
their own jobs to cheaper labor.

I hope this all becomes sorted out and, since the two of you are
legally married, that Eli will be allowed to accompany you to
America.  I have heard horrible stories about the conditions
of Germany today and if you are in any need of help from me, please
do not hesitate to ask.  You are my only niece and I love you
dearly.

Sincerely, 

Martha 

Caressing the letter between her fingers, Rebecca recalled a
time ten years ago when her Aunt Martha had sojourned to Germany to
see her sister, Deseire. She had a memory of Martha frolicking in
the park hand in hand with her while Deseire relaxed on the park
bench with Ralph.

Rebecca remembered the smell of roses and squishing her nose in
between a bundle of white lilies.  A protective warmth
radiated from her aunt, not like the suffocating rigidness of her
own mother.  Rebecca’s lips pressed softly up into her cheeks
as she held the letter, remembering Martha and, as she folded the
letter and laid it upon the dining table, she hoped she would be
seeing her aunt soon.

Still quietness filled her living room, and she hoped the ring
of the phone or a knock at the door would shatter the silence. She
sipped a cup of tea, too distraught in Eli’s absence to make
herself breakfast.

Had the Gestapo taken him? Was he being tortured? Was he at the
Dachau concentration camp? Was he dead?

She wandered to her room and paced over the floor before walking
outside onto the porch.  She looked over the terrace, surveyed
the area, and hoped for a glimpse, any sign of Eli. The phone rang
while she stared over Munich.  She was out of breath when she
picked up the phone.

“Hello?”

“Rebecca?” the coarse voice asked.

“Ezekiel, is he alright?” Her words clung to hope.

“I haven’t found him.  He wasn’t there.” Ezekiel fell
silent and Rebecca didn’t respond.  “There was a scuffle of
some kind.  Furniture was knocked over.  But the room was
empty.”

“Oh god.” Rebecca’s throat tightened. They both thought the
worst.  “Gestapo?”

“It looked that way,” Ezekiel reasoned. “But he may have
escaped, which would explain them coming to look for him. We can’t
know for sure if he was taken,” he said with a father’s hope.

“What do we do?”

“I’ll ask around.  I know a few people who might be able to
tell us if he was taken to Dachau.” Ezekiel’s sigh deepened. 
“I’ll call you when I find out.”

“Please do,” Rebecca implored without realizing the intensity of
the words falling from her lips or the outpour of emotion from her
heart.

It brought some comfort knowing the Gestapo just last night did
not know Eli’s whereabouts.  It gave her a shred of hope that
he somehow escaped their clutches.  But it was also possible
Eli got lost in the shuffle of victims and already sat in a
concentration camp without the Gestapo realizing this yet. 
She needed to know for sure.