You Are My Sunshine: A Novel Of The Holocaust (All My Love Detrick Companion Novel) (31 page)

“No, thank you.” Christa shook her head. “I’m not hungry.”

Christa looked at Zofia; her skin was red from the cold.

“Oh dear, look at you. Do you walk outside
all the way from the camp without a coat? How stupid of me. Of course you do. You have no coat.” Christa suddenly realized. She was talking more to herself than to Zofia.

“
Here” Christa got up from her bed. She went to her closet and removed a thick blue gray wool coat. “This should fit you.” Christa held it up to Zofia. “It looks like it should be about the right size.”

Z
ofia looked at Christa, unsure of what she wanted.

“Here, try this on.”Christa said as she helped Z
ofia to fit her arms into the coat. “Perfect fit, this is for you. It is a gift from me.” Christa said pointing to Zofia and then to the coat.”
“For me?” Zofia hugged the warm garment to her body. Then she took Christa’s slender hand and put it to her lips. “Thank you, God bless you.” Zofia fell to her knees, she felt the tears fall upon her face as she still held the thin-skinned hand lined with purple veins just like her mothers.

A coat! A coat! How wonderful t
o be warm. That night Zofia and Marsha put the coat on top of the blankets where they slept. It felt like heaven. Both women held tight to the coat even in sleep. Zofia knew better than to ever let the coat out of her site. Shoes, hidden food, anything at all that could make life even a little more tolerable was at constant risk of being stolen. The guard, who escorted Zofia to the Blau’s residence each morning, asked Christa if Zofia had stolen the coat.

Christa told him it was a gift, then scowled and demanded that he leave.

As the months passed, Zofia became almost fluent in German. She understood most of what was said to her. And as time went by Christa found Zofia to be a friend to confide in. Manfred still kept watch on Zofia. His eyes hungry with desire which unnerved her, but he did nothing.

One morning
just as the weather was beginning to break. Zofia straightened the living room. She noticed that Christa’s mother had laid her head down in an unnatural position. It was only an hour since Heidi Henkener had finished her breakfast and Zofia assumed that she’d fallen asleep gazing out the window. So, Zofia took a blanket to lay it across the old woman’s body. But when she did, Zofia realized that Heidi had passed away. Quietly, while watching the birds fly from tree to tree, the flowers just beginning to bud, and mother earth embracing another spring, Heidi had left the confines of a cruel world and rose with the angels to meet her husband.

The old woman had already turned cold.

Zofia hung her head. It would fall upon her to tell Christa the bad news. She walked slowly into the bedroom where Christa lay under a thin cotton quilt.

“M
a’am.”

Christa turned to her. “What is it Z
ofia?” Her left eye was filled with blood and surrounded by a watercolor purple and yellow bruise.

“M
a’am, I’m sorry to have to tell you this, but your mother, has passed away.”

“What? Are you sure?”

Christa got out of bed; she walked stiffly into the living room. When she saw her mother, Christa fell to her knees and took her mother’s cold hand into her own.

“Mama
…Oh Mama how am I going to go on without you?”

She wept.

Zofia stood there not knowing what to say or do until Katja came racing into the room a doll in her arms.

“My dolly sick, make better. You be doctor
.” Katja said in her broken baby language.

“Shhh. Quiet, your mama is having a hard time right now. Come with me. We’ll go to your room and take care
of your doll. Alright?”

Katja
nodded and put her tiny hand into Zofia’s.

For several
days, the guard did not come to the camp to take Zofia to the Blau’s home. Instead, she was shuffled out to work in the quarries with the other prisoners. All day she carried stone. Manfred was there; she saw him and wished she could ask him why she’d been taken away from the house, from Katja, who she missed terribly? But she dared not speak to him.

“You over there
,” Manfred said to a woman who was probably only thirty but hard work had made her look at least twice her age. She slumped over and moved slowly as she carried heavy piles of rocks. “You’re too slow. I think you are trying to avoid working. Let me show you what happens when someone avoids work.”

He pulled her up by
the back of her dress. She was so thin she was almost weightless. Then he called all of the prisoners over.

“Here we have a lazy woman. That is just not allowed
. Laziness must be punished.” Manfred slapped the prisoner across her face. One of the others, a girl of about twelve winced.

“That is her daughter.” Marsha whispered to Z
ofia.

“Oh, so you think I am wrong to punish this woman. Well, let’s see. Would you rather I punish you?”
Manfred said to the young girl who looked around in terror.

“Please” The mother said. “I am the one who was
lazy; I am the one who was wrong. Please let her be. Punish me, not her I beg you.”

“O
h, she must be your friend…”

“Come here friend
…” Manfred said. Zofia saw the cruelty glittering in his eyes and she shivered.

“So, who should take the punishment? Shall we make a game
of this?” He said.

“Would you like to take the punishment for your friend?”

“She is my mother. Please, Arbeitsführer. Please let her be…”

“Your m
other? That explains everything, women and their mothers, a disgusting lot.” He smiled. “Well, I have an idea, mother…watch this. I’ll bet you won’t be lazy anymore.” Manfred pulled the gun from his waist. He held fixed on the daughter’s head.

“Please, have mercy
…” The older woman cried out. She ran to her daughter and laid on top her. “Please… it is my fault…”

With his black leather boot, Manfred kicked the mother out
of the way, and then fired a shot. The daughter’s brains splattered across the ground and into the mother’s face. The older woman screamed in agony, she wept. Loud heart wrenching cries filled the air.

“Shut up.” Manfred said. “Shut up
right now.”

But the woman could not be silent. No one dared go to her to comfort her,
lest they be next.

Manfred seemed
somehow frightened by the wailing. He turned gun still in hand and fired into the mother’s head.

Z
ofia’s throat was dry. She felt as if she might collapse.

“Don’t look.
Turn away. Just go back to work. And work quickly.” Marsha whispered to Zofia.

It was several days before the guard returned to escort Z
ofia back to the home of the Blau’s. After the rigorous hot days of working in the quarries, she was relieved to see him. She had begun to fear that she would never return to the house again.

Z
ofia arrived to find Christa in bed, her skin white and thinned like parchment. Although she’d always been frail, the loss of her mother seemed to age her further. Her once golden curls had thinned and now lay like straw on the pillow. The room was dark except for a thin ray of light that seeped through the curtains.

“Good Morning, Ma
’am. Can I get you anything?” Zofia asked keeping her voice soft

“No, thank you.” Christa said barely above a whisper.

“Where were you?” Katja asked angry, and accusing. She’d been lying beside her mother.

“I couldn’t come” Z
ofia said.

She picked the child up into her arms and put her face into the
babies’ soft hair taking in the sweet smell of her.

“I’m mad at you.”
Katja pouted.

“I’m sorry.” Z
ofia said. “Forgive me and I promise we will play a game.”

Katja
smiled and hugged Zofia’s neck. “What kind of a game?”

“It’s a surprise. First you should eat some breakfast.”

“Do I have to?”

“Yes, you do, if you want to play.”

“Alright…” Katja said reluctantly agreeing.

“Thank you Z
ofia. I’m so glad you’re here. I need to rest.” Christa said her voice a croak.

“I’ll take her out
of here and close the door.”

“Thank
you, so much.” Christa turned on her side as Zofia took Katja out of the room.

When
Katja had finished her breakfast, Zofia peeked into Christa’s room to see if her employer was alright. Christa lay facing the door eyes wide open.

“Ma
’am can I get you anything?”

“No, nothing.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Zofia turned to leave.

“I’m so tired
of all of this.” Christa began to speak. Although the room was dark and Zofia could only see shadows she could tell by Christa’s tone of voice that she was crying “ I’m not well and sometimes I feel that it is all just too much for me, this camp, with its murder and torture. I am married to a man I don’t even know.  Worse yet, I am so weak. I have no fight left. Soon I will die. And what will happen to poor Katja. Manfred has changed so much since we were married. I cannot trust him to care for a child when I am gone; he is far too angry, and has turned so vicious and cruel.  My life is a terrible mess.” Christa said

Z
ofia did not answer. If she could, she would promise this woman who had been kind to her that she would care for the child. But, as the last few days proved, the decision was not hers. So all Zofia could do was stand silently in the doorway and listen.

“Z
ofia, where is your mother? Where is your family from?”

“My mother is dead.
I have no living relatives,” Zofia said, but she thought of Eidel

“I am sorry, I am so sorry for you.”

Zofia realized now that Christa was somewhat aware of the goings on at the camp. She longed to tell her about Fruma and Gitel, even about Eidel, but she could not take the risk. If Christa turned on her Zofia would be sent back or worse. It was best to just stand there and listen.

Finally,
that afternoon Christa agreed to try to eat some tea and dry toast, which Zofia brought to her. She nibbled a bit and then lie down and fell asleep. Zofia took the tray and covered the woman. She wondered how even in her own misery, she could feel so sorry for someone else.

Christa was asleep
when Manfred arrived early from work. Zofia had just given Katja her afternoon meal and put her down for a nap.

When the door creaked open, Z
ofia turned quickly. A shiver ran up her neck. It was the Arbeitsführer.

“Hello.” He said
his voice civil almost warm.

She cast her eyes down. “Good afternoon, sir.” Z
ofia answered.

“You look quite lovely today.” Manfred said.

Zofia did not answer.

“Y
ou aren’t afraid of me are you?”

She shook her head.

“Well, good, although it would do, you well to maintain a healthy respect, if you understand what I mean.   So…Then…” He said smiling. “Come to my office. I have something to talk to you about.”

Z
ofia followed him, wishing somehow that she might escape.

He sat behind his desk and motioned to her to take the seat opposite him.

“Do you like it here? Working in my home?” He smiled.

“Yes,
Arbeitsführer.”

“You realize
of course, that I could send you back to the quarries at any time.”

“Yes
Arbeitsführer.”

“Speak up, I can’t hear you.”

“Yes, Arbeitsführer.” She cleared her throat and tried to speak louder.

“I am a very powerful man. Your very life lies within my hands.
So in a way, to you, that makes me God.”

She kept her head down.

“What do you have to say to that?”

“Yes,
Arbeitsführer.”

“Well, I would like to keep you here
working in my home. My daughter likes you and you provide much needed help for my invalid wife.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

“However, I expect more of you. This job you have. It is a very comfortable job, plenty of food. I know my wife feeds you well. I realize she gives you more than you deserve. I don’t care. But there is something you can do for me.”

“Yes,
Arbeitsführer.”

“Come here.” He said. She did not move. “Come on…” He said his voice suddenly gentle
in a frightening way.

Z
ofia got up. Her legs felt as if they were about to buckle underneath her. She gasped for breath.