My Mother's Secret (10 page)

T
he war is
intensifying.

One day I come home to find tanks parked right in front of our house. We live close to the river, so it is a strategic position for the Germans.

The tanks are brutal and have crushed everything in their path.

Fresh apples are pressed into the dirt with tread marks.

I am upset that branches of the apple tree were broken off while the tanks maneuvered into position, but my mother reassures me that they will grow back.

“If the roots are crushed, the tree won't survive,” I say tearfully.

There is no way of knowing, except with time.

W
ith so many
Germans wandering on the property, our families in hiding are at risk.

After much thought, my mother goes to speak to the officer in charge.

“You know,” she says, “my house is very poorly constructed. If you ever had to fire a shot from one of your tanks, it would collapse and bury your soldiers. I would hate to see that happen.”

The officer must have thought seriously about what she said because the following week he moves his tanks to another location.

“Always point out what is in the best interest of the other person if you want them to do something. Works on everyone,” she says.

Our house, a bunch of wooden boards held together by nails and plaster, painted white to hide the crooked construction, actually saves us.

Truthfully, most of the homes around us are similarly constructed.

It is the cleverness of my mother that makes the Germans see our house differently from the others.

T
he landscape is g
rim with gray skies and trees that look like they will never be green again.

Some of the buildings in town have been bombed and, with greater priorities elsewhere, they are left in this state of disrepair. There are pieces of broken glass, rubble, and brick in small piles along the sides of the streets. Any wood is quickly taken away for firewood. The beauty of the willow trees by the river is in sharp contrast to the tanks dotted in between. The land beneath our feet—cold, hard, and dry—reflects the suffering that is going on above it.

Food becomes more expensive each day. We would not have been able to feed everyone without Dr. Wolenski's savings and Casmir's generosity. Our neighbors are jealous that we have food, but they don't cause trouble because they think we are connected to the commander.

My mother doesn't play chess, but if she did, it would be with many moves ahead.

•   •   •

T
HE
G
ERMANS HAVE MOVED
more soldiers across the river, and the fighting escalates. When Casmir becomes worried for our safety, I know the situation is deteriorating rapidly.

He is careful with the choice of words in his letters, but I know the underlying message.

“Helena, we no longer need you at the factory. Your employment with us is terminated immediately” really means that he thinks the factory might be bombed at any time.

Y
ou never get used to the fear. It appears out of nowhere, while you are walking, eating, sleeping, and yet you go on because there is nothing else to do. Almost everyone has a family member or friend who has been killed because of the war.

Dr. Wolenski and his family are anxious to hear any news that we have.

We have a code to let Dr. Wolenski know it's safe to come out. It has to be very precise, as walking on the floor can be mistaken for a code. We decide on four quick, successive taps on the floor followed by two slow and then two fast again. The odds of such a combination from walking are slim.

We make sure that Vilheim and Dr. Wolenski never meet.

My mother thinks that it is best that only we know. “Safer for everyone,” she says.

I think that Mikolaj is such a good boy. How hard it must be not to be able to run or play for an eight-year-old. I can see how close he is to his mother because when they come up for a quick break in the middle of the night, he never lets go of her hand. Dr. Wolenski keeps track of when it is night and day by his watch. It is dark for them all the time, so there is no way of knowing otherwise.

They develop a system where Felicia and Mikolaj sleep during the day, when the possibility of an unexpected visit is greatest. They are up at night, when it is safer. Dr. Wolenski sleeps at night, but he snores, so Felicia needs to wake him when this happens. As a precaution, they never sleep at the same time.

Bronek doesn't know about Dr. Wolenski or Vilheim either. They never leave the shed because it is too dangerous. I don't know how a large man like Bronek manages to stay cramped up in the loft. It makes me marvel at our will to survive.

I give them a chess set and Bronek spends hours playing with his son. It is too bad that Walter and Mikolaj can't play together. I think they could have been good friends.

Walter, like Mikolaj, is a very good boy. He keeps quiet and learns to speak mostly by hand and facial expressions. Bronek amuses him by doing shadow puppets against the wall.

They have become so good that they can do entire stories that way.

There is a window in the loft with a curtain to prevent people from looking in. From behind the curtain, the family can peek out occasionally.

I know that Bronek has a rotating system, so that they take turns in terms of who can sit by the window each day. It is a small thing for each of them to look forward to.

They can see the apple tree from their window, and when it is in season, I make a point of picking a few each day to leave for them in the loft.

The raid on the ghetto means that as far as we know, all the Jews in Sokal—except for the ones we are hiding—are gone.

I wonder if there are other people like my mother and me who are hiding Jewish families, but there is no way of knowing.

By the beginning of 1944, we have been able to keep this secret for over a year, but all of us are feeling like it will never end.

My mother begins to think that we may be caught, but neither one of us can bring ourselves to make everyone leave.

I
t is exhausting
to live with constant fear, tempered by nothing but hope.

My mother says to me, “It's hardest on Vilheim because he is hiding alone.”

Shortly after a year has passed, we notice that Vilheim has not come down for several days. My mother has difficulty climbing the ladder, so she asks me to go up to the attic to check on him.

I see that the food we left him has remained untouched. He is lying so still that I panic and think he's dead! Then he opens his eyes, but there is no life in them. It's awkward, but I manage to crouch down to lift up his head and give him some water. It rolls down the side of his mouth since he makes no effort to swallow. Not knowing what to do, I come back down and tell my mother what has happened.

“What should we do?” I ask.

She responds with a question. “Does he have a fever?”

“No, I don't think so. He didn't feel warm to me when I lifted his head,” I reply.

“I see,” my mother says.

“Should we let Dr. Wolenski know about Vilheim and see if he can help?” I ask.

Surprisingly, my mother says, “No, that won't help.”

I think she has given up on Vilheim, but I should have known better with my mother.

“His problem can't be solved by medicine,” she says. “I need to talk to him.”

So even though it is painful for her, she climbs up the ladder.

I follow after her to hear what she is saying to him.

She says, “Vilheim, do you want your life to end here? What about your
oma
? What about your farm? Don't you want to ride that horse of yours? I don't know how to ride a horse, but it must be a wonderful feeling. You will have that life again, but not if you die here.”

Her remedy is a heavy dose of optimism blended with some truth.

She says, “Don't give up now, Vilheim, when we are so close. There is news that Hitler will lose at any moment. We're almost there. Just a little longer and you will be back on your farm. If you quit, who will look after your
oma
and all the animals on your farm?”

My mother uses everything.

Each day she goes up there with this message. She brings him food and water and makes sure that he gets it down.

Within two weeks, Vilheim is back to the way he was.

My mother and I don't want him to take a step backward, so we keep him posted with news that my mother makes up about how the Germans are losing badly here and there.

Not knowing much about geography, we name places from an atlas that Dr. Wolenski brought for Mikolaj.

Miraculously, the news that my mother is making up begins to come true.

Hope is a strategy after all.

A
lthough extremely d
angerous, Casmir makes the trip to see me.

When I see his face at my door, the face that I see every time I close my eyes, I can hardly believe it.

I run to him, laughing and crying at the same time.

Feeling delirious with joy and relieved that he is safe, I wrap my arms around his waist, not wanting to let go.

He gently lifts my face with both hands and looks at me. “Where is that wonderful smile I saw the first time I met you?”

I love his voice and how it makes everything sound magical.

W
hen I was young, I a
sked my mother, “How will I know if I'm in love?”

Her answer was, “You will know.”

Thinking that her response was vague and wanting more, I persisted.

“No, really, tell me how I will know.”

She said, “There is nothing more to say except that if you don't know, then you're not in love.”

Now I know exactly what she means.

I love this man with my entire being.

When I am with him, the war is pushed away. There is kindness, beauty, and hope.

He is my refuge, and my life.

No one melts me like he does. No one is him for me.

I
n the privacy of our
house, Casmir secretly confides that he is hearing that the war is not going well for the Germans. He says, “Hitler made a mistake breaking with Stalin, and with the Americans now in the war too, the tide is turning on Germany.”

I can hardly wait to hear more.

He says, “Hitler is stubborn and even when it doesn't look like he can win, he keeps fighting.”

Casmir continues. ”They are so short of soldiers that they are now recruiting sixteen-year-olds and old men in Germany. I am kept out of the army only because our factory makes uniforms for them.”

This development is so exciting that we share it with Bronek, Dr. Wolenski, and Vilheim as soon as it is safe to do so.

If they could have shouted with joy, they would have.

With this new optimism, all of us know that we just need to hang on for a little longer, and it becomes more bearable.

•   •   •

C
ASMIR CANNOT STAY LONG.

He comes to the house with crates full of cooking oil, flour, salt, and potatoes to say good-bye.

It is his way of loving me.

Before he leaves, he holds me so close that I can feel his heartbeat.

He bends down to kiss me, and I taste the salt of his tears on my lips.

It is a taste that stays with me long after he is gone.

S
oon after Casmir leaves
, the tide turns with the Russians crossing the Bug River and the Germans now in retreat.

I can't believe it.

Although the war is not yet over, the Germans leave Sokal.

My mother and I look at each other in disbelief. Can it really be? We have waited and hoped for this moment for so long that it takes awhile for our minds and bodies to absorb the news.

We have saved both families and a German soldier.

We have all endured.

•   •   •

O
N
J
ULY 19, 1944,
we move the kitchen table and help Dr. Wolenski, Felicia, and Mikolaj out of their hiding place. They squint as they come out into the light, but they are smiling.

We also tell Bronek and his family that it is safe to come down from the loft. They come down the ladder slowly with bodies stiff from being cramped for so long. They are hugging and crying, as are all of us by now.

My mother taps on the ceiling three times and opens the trapdoor to shout, “The soldiers are gone!”

Vilheim comes down from the attic with a big bump on his forehead.

He was so excited by the news that he sat up without thinking and hit his head.

My mother is careful to keep him hidden in the house, as he would surely be shot by the Russians.

We don't tell our neighbors that we have hidden Jews because there still lingers anti-Semitic sentiment.

In our small house, it is the first time that Bronek and Dr. Wolenski meet. They can't believe that Franciszka has hidden both their families.

Dr. Wolenski is astonished because he knows Anelie, having delivered Walter.

Anelie turns to Bronek with tears in her eyes and says, ”Our baby.”

Bronek replies in a soft voice, “There's nothing we could have done,” and holds Anelie, who is now sobbing. He tries to comfort her with, “We'll always remember her.”

The boys look at each other curiously, but they soon act like they have always known each other. Kids make friends so easily.

When Bronek sees Vilheim, he is angry at first. Then he remembers the night with the German soldier who turned the other way.

“I saw you sliding under the barbed wire,” Vilheim says, “but I didn't shoot you.”

T
o be safe, everyone stays with
us until it is clear that Germany has lost the war. Then my mother asks Bronek for a favor. “I helped you; now it's your turn to help someone else. Let Vilheim travel with you out of Poland. Say he is your brother. He can make his way back to Germany on his own after that.”

How can we do this?
Help a German soldier?
But then Bronek thinks of that night and also this: a request from Franciszka—how can he refuse?

And that is how a Jewish family, hiding a German soldier, leaves Poland.

Vilheim leaves wearing Damian's clothes, and I feel that, in some way, my brother would have been proud of us.

Bronek, Anelie, Walter, and Bryda immigrate to the United States. There, they make their way to Texas, where Bronek works on a ranch, just as he did before the war.

Dr. Wolenski, Felicia, and Mikolaj move to Palestine, where they need doctors.

Vilheim returns to the farm, where his
oma
embraces him with tears of joy.

She can't believe her eyes when she sees him and thanks God for answering her prayers.

We all find our own place in the world, but all of us are forever connected by a bond that will survive time and distance.