The Day the Flowers Died (32 page)

“Is that her, the same girl from the swing club?” Eli gawked,
remembering her flashy flapper dress.

“That would be the one.” He answered in a confident manner that
bordered on cocky.

“You two have been seeing each other all this time?” Eli asked
in surprise.

“Off and on at the swing clubs.” Jacob smirked and wiggled his
eyebrows in jest.

“Good for you.” Eli patted Jacob on the back and finished piling
in the fruits and vegetables in his basket and then put in two
loaves of bread.

“How are you and Rebecca?”

“We’re good,” Eli’s grin widened, “really good.”

“I’ve heard she’s expecting,” Jacob stated.  Eli did not
deny it and the widened smile only grew.  “It’s true then?”
His voice pitched high and then he lowered it.  “The two of
you are going to have a baby?”

“Yes.” Eli glanced back at Jacob’s girlfriend and noticed her
standing.  “I think she may be leaving.” Eli pointed in her
direction and Jacob turned his head.

“One moment,” Jacob rushed his words and then scurried out of
the market to her side.  “Are you leaving?” As he finished the
sentence, the wrinkled brows in her forehead deepened and her lips
tightened across her mouth.

The sound of a large vehicle screeched along the side of the
market and seven Gestapo jumped out of the back of the truck. 
The pounding of their jackboots surrounded Jacob and, as Eli
watched, they hit him across the jaw and his sides with their
guns.  Blood flew out of his nose and mouth and splattered
across the long white summer dress his girlfriend wore.  She
dropped her cigarette and screamed.

Her hands trembled against her face and she dropped to Jacob’s
side where he lay curled on the sidewalk.  Two of the Gestapo
pulled him up and dragged him away while she clung to him until he
was torn from her altogether.  They threw him into the back of
the truck.

The others followed, but not before one of them declared, “There
will be no Jews consorting with German girls.  It is
forbidden!” He shouted forbidden and then the black hats, jackets
and breeches disappeared into the truck and the engine revved.

Eli dropped his basket and raced towards the military vehicle
pulling away.  He chased the truck for several blocks before
its own speed drove it far ahead of him and it vanished in the
distance.  Eli fell to his knees in the middle of the road,
calling out to his friend, wailing.  An elderly Jewish man
limped with his cane over to Eli and helped him back to his
feet.

“Don’t make a scene, son.” He walked with him back to the
sidewalk.  “No need to draw unnecessary attention to
yourself.” His voice sounded scratchy from years of smoking.

“But Jacob, my friend.” Eli implored for someone to understand
his pain.

“Your friend is gone.  There’s nothing you can do for him
now.  Go home.  Be with your family.” His words were
short, brutal, honest.  Eli glanced at him as if the old man
knew and could sense that Eli was about to have a baby, and
protected him from endangering all those he loved.  Eli took a
few heavy breaths, swallowed his tears and then ran back home to
his Rebecca.  He skipped two stairs at a time and upon opening
the door to the apartment, stopped to catch his breath.

“Eli?” Rebecca grew concerned and ran over to him before
shutting the door behind him.  “What happened?” Her left brow
quirked and the pink tint to her skin fell from her face.

“Jacob… they took him.  They just drove up and threw him in
the back of their truck for being with his German girlfriend.”
Eli’s voice wavered in sadness and he stood stunned.  He threw
his arm across the empty vase on the small table which had not been
filled with flowers for some time.  The vase fell to the floor
and the crystal glass shattered.  He slammed his fists to the
barren table and shouted, “What is happening to this country!”

Rebecca curled her arms around him from behind and drew his body
to her chest.  Eli fell into her and released the emotion he
had to keep inside on the street.  He turned his face into her
sky blue blouse and sobbed until the sun fell and the evening
brought them to their bed.  Rebecca folded a wet rag over his
bloodshot eyes and curled up beside him as they fell asleep.

The morning sun trickled over their bare feet and awoke
them.  Eli rolled his mouth over to her ear and whispered,
“Forget me.  Forget you ever knew me.  Protect
yourself.  Protect our baby.”

Rebecca rolled onto her knees.  “I could never do such a
thing! Even if my mind thought it wise, my heart would not be
strong enough.  I love you.  I’ll always love you.” She
braced her hands over his bare chest.  “We are going to get
through this.  We are going to board the next boat.  We
are going to have our family.” At her wishful words, Eli’s
expression became contemplative and he lingered in thought for a
moment.

“I must find a way for us.  I must get my visa for
America.”

“You haven’t heard from the Embassy?” Rebecca bit her
lips.  “But you told your father…” Her body fell off of Eli
and lay at his side.

“I told him what he needed to board the ship,” Eli said, turning
to her and then looking away from her lake blue eyes. “Aaron says
they make promises of reviewing applications, but the truth is the
papers simply sit in stacks for months before anyone even bothers.”
He returned his gaze to her.  “There are just too many
restraints and no one wants more refugees taking jobs in a country
that’s just coming out of its own depression.”

“Why didn’t you get the forgery for yourself with your family?”
Rebecca’s voice strained, but tried not to sound accusative.

“I…I don’t know.  I thought I would have heard from
immigration.  I thought if I hadn’t, I’d have more time with
Mr. Reiner to create the documents.” Eli covered his face with his
hands. “I should have thought this could happen.  I should
have prepared more thoroughly.”

“You can’t blame yourself.” Rebecca brought her hands to his
arm, “There’s no way you could have known what would happen to Mr.
Reiner.”

“I should have.  I’m a lawyer. It’s my job to prepare for
contingencies.” He berated himself.

“You will find a way.  You always do. You have a sharp
mind.  I know you’ll find a way for us,” Rebecca said,
soothing Eli, soothing herself.

* * *

Rumors circulated Munich.  Silent glances spoke unspoken
words.  Whispers fluttered in the cold air.  The autumn
weather brought with it trees that shed their colorful leaves,
preparing to become barren.  Like the trees, the streets soon
followed.  People became a scarce commodity.  Jews
disappeared in the morning, in the evening, from their homes, from
their place of business.  People speculated they were being
sent to a concentration camp for labor, taken away on any number of
charges from consorting with German girls to imitating the Nazi
salute.  The rumors began in August and escalated every
month.

On August twentieth, the American Jewish Congress declared a
boycott against Nazi Germany.  Coupled with the European
boycott of the previous year, the world began to take notice of the
conditions in Hitler’s Germany and show its disapproval. But Hitler
needed the world’s approval and, like a wolf that played in the
morning and stalked its prey at night, he hid the atrocities from
public view whenever influential visitors came from other
countries.

* * *

Eli’s mind focused on retrieving the visas he needed to purchase
his ticket for the next ship out of Hamburg.  The immigration
office had no word about his application yet.  With Mr. Reiner
still missing, he knew no other Jewish man who could obtain
counterfeit documents.  He also knew he had to keep himself
inconspicuous, because the Gestapo tracked him once before.

They had kept a careful watch on the Levin home until they
departed Hamburg, leaving the Gestapo with the certainty Eli had
escaped. Though Germany encouraged the emigration of Jews in a sure
attempt to rid themselves of the Jewish problem, the Nazis needed
few reasons to betray this encouragement and even less reasons to
cause harm.

Eli met with Aaron at his old office where his father Ezekiel
had bolted the doors and walked away. Aaron waited for Eli behind
the building, remaining off the main street. Posters of
discrimination and propaganda still plastered the walls.  Many
torn down over the course of Eli working there were replaced by the
eager hands of young Germans initiated into Hitler’s Youth.

Aaron held his passport and documents in a file inside a brown
bag strapped around his shoulder.  He wiped the sweat from his
forehead, not there as a result of humid weather, but from his
nervousness at carrying illegal documents in a Nazi saturated
city.  Eli brushed up against Aaron’s arm from behind. 
Aaron reacted in alarm and jerked around until he saw Eli’s face
and not the Gestapo.

“Eli, don’t do that.”

“Don’t do what?” Eli asked in sincere ignorance.

“Surprise me from behind.” Aaron wiped a drop of sweat from his
nose.

“Nervous?”

“Is there ever a reason not to be these days?” Aaron retorted
and Eli gripped the bag on his shoulder.

“Your papers are in here?” Eli inquired while Aaron lowered his
shoulder, allowing the bag to fall into Eli’s hands.

“You think this is going to work?” Aaron’s brows twisted and the
wrinkles around the corners of his mouth showed Eli he doubted
it.

“It has to.  What other option is there?”

“You could sneak aboard the ship.  It has its risks, but no
more than forging your own documents, and maybe less,” Aaron
reasoned.

“This can work,” Eli protested, trying to persuade the disbelief
in Aaron’s expression. “If I can get an idea of what the visa
documentation looks like, I can try to mimic it well enough to
manage a ticket for myself.”

“And once we dock in New York? How is a poor counterfeit going
to fool the immigration offices?” Aaron demanded.

“And how is sneaking aboard going to solve that?” Eli concluded,
winning the disagreement.  “I have to try something.  You
know as well as I that the Embassy isn’t going to process my
application soon enough and, when they finally get around to it, it
will likely be denied because of President Roosevelt’s quota
restraints.”

Aaron sighed at Eli’s truth and then Eli furthered the
desperation, “Plus I need your papers to help duplicate my German
police permit and records since I turned them into immigration
months ago.” Eli tugged on the bag to open it and searched the
papers to ensure it was all there.  “I’ve been flagged by
Gestapo and there’s no way the police will grant me a permit
again.”

“You’re right, I’m sorry.  I just wish there was something
more I could do,” Aaron conceded, seeing the frustration in his
friend’s eyes.

“You’ve done everything you can.  We just have to hope this
will be enough.” Eli pulled the bag over his shoulder. “I’ll return
your documents at the end of the week.” Aaron nodded at Eli’s
words.  He patted Eli’s shoulder before departing to his
parent’s house.

It took Eli five days and nights of work on his spurious
passport visa to address each page appropriately.  He didn’t
want to alarm Rebecca with his dilemma. He blamed himself for not
realizing sooner the unreliability of receiving a visa through
immigration and for not taking the necessary measures to procure
fraudulent documentation through Mr. Reiner.  He knew this
worry would weigh heavily on her already fragile state of
emotions.  Therefore he concentrated on its conception when
she was out of the apartment or sleeping.

He went to the closet in the bedroom and pulled out the
cardboard box he had packed away with the variety of office
supplies he had gathered from his father’s firm before it closed.
The box held a variation of stamps with black and red ink, some
placing a date mark and some marking solid lines. He took out his
passport, the one he never had approved at the immigration office,
and turned to the first page. J for Juden. The second page had a
photo of himself. 

The third page involved an artificial visa for entry into
America from immigration. This page used the typewriter and various
inks. Using Aaron’s passport booklet, Eli mimicked what he saw.

The fourth page was a forged German police-approved permit for
departure. Eli carefully constructed its form with the typewriter
and stamp inks.

After the pages dried, he had to finalize them with German
immigration stamps and German signatures. He scrutinized Aaron’s
passport meticulously to mirror the eagle like German stamp in
black ink, sketching it and then creating a stencil of it to brush
the black ink over his own passport. He practiced the signatures
and, when he felt confident enough to forge his own, he used the
black ink again with the tip of a bird feather for signing.

When Rebecca and Eli sat for dinner at their home that evening,
he faked a smile so wide, even his own mutti might have believed
its sincerity.

“What is it?” Rebecca asked.

“I got the visa from immigration today.”

“You mean they… you were approved?” she asked, half elated and
half in disbelief.

“I have it.” He grinned and opened his passport with all its
forged documentation. “We’re on our way to a new life.” As he
spoke, Rebecca sighed with relief and a tear streamed down her left
eye and over her cheek.  She stood and hugged Eli.

“We’re on our way.” She nestled her face into his chest.

* * *

On the twenty sixth, he and Aaron arrived at the ship dock in
Hamburg to purchase their tickets.  As Eli handed Rebecca’s
passport and his passport to the ticket attendant, he also handed
him his sponsorship letter from Rebecca’s Aunt Martha, the German
police permit which he forged, and his marriage contract to
Rebecca.  A rush of adrenaline and anxiety surged throughout
his body which he tried to conceal by rubbing his hands.  The
attendant glanced at Eli with his hazel eyes, whisked his fingers
though his hair, glanced at the picture in his passport and then
disappeared behind the counter.