You Are My Sunshine: A Novel Of The Holocaust (All My Love Detrick Companion Novel) (33 page)

The seasons came and went. Christa grew weaker.
Her eyelids, nails, and lips turned blue as a robin’s egg, an indication that the heart condition she was born with had resurfaced.

On the morning
of Katja’s fourth birthday, Christa asked Zofia if she could try to bake a cake.

“Have you ever done any baking?”

“A little, I will try to make something nice for Katja.”

“You care for Katja
a great deal don’t you?” Christa asked. She sat up in bed her back propped up against the pillows.

“Yes ma
’am, I do.”

“Sit d
own, Zofia.” Christa patted the bed. “Here sit beside me. There is something that I must tell you.’

Z
ofia ran her hand over the blanket smoothing it over Christa, and then she sat down.

“I have never told anyone this. But
I feel that I must tell you. But, as long as I am alive, you must promise to keep this a secret. Can you promise? I don’t know why, Zofia, but I trust you, and I trust you to keep your word.”

“I promise.”

“Zofia, my condition is getting worse. I suppose you can see that. I am not sure that I will survive the winter. And so you must know. You must be aware of what I am about to tell you.”

“Go on, please.” Z
ofia said.

Christa took Z
ofia’s hand. Zofia felt how cold Christa was.

“You are so cold. Would you like another
blanket?”

“N
o, I must tell you…”

“I’m sorry. Yes, you must. Go on.” Z
ofia said squeezing Christa’s hand gently.

Christa sighed taking a deep breath. Then she began.
“Katja, is not my daughter not by blood anyway, nor is she Manfred’s. Katja is adopted. She was born in the institute for the Lebensborn. Do you know what that is?”

“I’ve heard
of it, isn’t it a breeding hospital for Aryan women?”

“Yes, it is, i
t is a place where children are bred to build Germany’s new Aryan race, and then they are adopted by Aryan couples. Manfred and I had to be screened before we were allowed to take the baby.” Christa said she coughed a little. Then she reached beneath the sheets. “Here, I have been waiting to show you this.”

Christa handed a few papers
to Zofia. Zofia looked at them bewildered.

“I’m sorry, they are in German. I can’t read them.”
Zofia said.

“They are
Katja’s birth and christening papers from the home for the Lebensborn. It was called Steinhöring it was in Munich. If I should die, take them. Someday, she will want to know the truth. I am hoping, God willing, that you will be there to tell her.”

Z
ofia folded the documents and tucked them into the bosom of her dress

“I will do my best for Katja, you know that
. But you must not think about dying, you must try to get well.”

“I
am not going to get well, Zofia. It’s just a matter of time, it could be a week, or it could be five years. I don’t know, nobody knows. For a long time my illness was under control. I almost believed I would live a long life…but then…” Again, Christa coughed. “Zofia, you have been very kind to me, and you don’t know how often I’ve felt terribly sorry that all of this happened with the Jews and the Nazi’s. However, there is one good thing that came from all of this. And, I suppose, I am selfish, but I am glad to have had the opportunity to know you. You are strong kind woman and without you and your help, I don’t know what would have become of Katja and I.”

“Thank you. It has been so long since I’ve felt
appreciated in anyway. And I know that all that is taking place here in the camp is not your fault.”

“Oh Z
ofia, I feel so guilty. Not that there is anything I can do, but when I was younger I just didn’t’ realize. I never realized. I was excited by the music, the flags, the marching, and Hitler’s speeches. I had no idea. I am so ashamed. You have been my rock. You’ve held me when I was vomiting, never asked for anything. In my heart, I believe that it is because you are a good person, not because you are a prisoner. To me you were never a prisoner; you have always been a friend.”

Z
ofia smiled and moved the hair out of Christa’s eyes

“
Oh Zofia, there is so much you don’t know. So much I am forbidden to tell you.” Christa said. “When I adopted Katja I wanted a child more than anything. I was young and strong. And believe it or not, Manfred and I were very much in love. He wasn’t the same man he is today. You see, something happened, something terrible. He changed; he was seduced by the power of the party. This man who I live with is not the man I married. And I suppose it was the death of that love that sucked the very life out of me.” Christa’s voice broke.

Z
ofia cast her eyes down. She knew that Christa was crying.

“You see, when I first met Manfred, I was a young girl. He was an important man in the party. It impressed me so much.
Of course, then, I didn’t know what it meant to be a Nazi. I had no idea. I was sucked in by the glamour. You see Manfred worked for Goebbels at the time. And, when I met him, he looked so handsome and important in his uniform. I was ignorant I didn’t think about the Jews or anyone else. I only thought of the moment. Forgive me. Oh Zofia, forgive me. He took me to parties with all the top officials. I even met Hitler. Yes, it was all glitter in those days. But as they say, all that is glitters is not gold, and that, my friend is true.” Christa stopped for a moment she labored for breath to continue. “I knew nothing of the cruelty that the Nazi’s stood for. I suppose I could have known if I’d looked deeper. But I didn’t want to know, I wanted to enjoy the good life. But my father, God rest his soul, he knew. I had no ill feelings towards Jews or anyone else. I suppose what I am trying to say, is that I am sorry, Zofia. I am sorry for how my people have treated you and yours.” She was sobbing.

Z
ofia nodded.

“Please, be there for my child. I know that I have not been able to do much to help you. But, I’ve done what I could.
Katja loves you. She thinks of you as a mother. Manfred hardly has time for her, so once I am gone he will keep you here to care for her. Please care for her.”

“I will. I do
love her.” Zofia said.
“I know you do, and that is why I am counting on you.”

Z
ofia saw Christa’s struggle for a breath, how difficult, and taxing it was for her to talk.

“Shhh, now, get some sleep and I will bake the cake. Alright?”
Zofia moved the pillows and helped Christa to lie down.

“Yes, but you will not forget your promise?”

“I will not forget.”

“I trust you Z
ofia.”

Z
ofia went to the kitchen and began to measure the flour and sugar. Katja squatted playing quietly on a blanket that Zofia had spread on the floor. Zofia watched her and thought of Eidel. Once she too, had trusted the safety of her precious child to another woman. With God’s help Helen was caring for Eidel the way she would care for Katja..

“Mama?”
Katja said.

“
Yes” Zofia said

“My dolly is going to be a Jew just like you.”

Zofia felt the hair on her neck stand at attention. She bent down beside the little girl, hugging her and smiling.

“Katja, you must never say that to your father, alright?”

“Why not?”

“Because I asked you not to, will you do that for me, please?” Z
ofia gently squeezed Katja and kissed her cheek.

“Alright. It will be our secret.”

“Yes, our secret.” Zofia sighed.

Three days prior Z
ofia had been cleaning the house when Manfred and several of his coworkers were in his study having a drink. She’d over heard them talking. From their conversation, she gathered that Nazi confidence in Hitler’s ability to win the war against Allies was waning. They spoke quickly and she was not fluent in German enough to follow everything they said. But she did gather that Berlin had been bombed, and that Hitler had made a mistake by dividing his army and fighting on two fronts at the same time. The SS officers feared that the Allies were closing in on Germany, and there was great concern that the Fatherland might lose the war.

Quietly as she went about her t
asks, Zofia prayed that it was true, that the allies, on their way, coming to the rescue. How near were they? How soon might this nightmare end? Just the thought of such a miracle made her toes tingle with anticipation, to be free again, to find Eidel, and hold her again. Could it be true? Dare she allow herself to believe? For so long Zofia had wiped all emotion from her heart for fear of another disappointment.  But she could not help but feel joyous as she listened to the worries of the SS officers.

Now standing in the kitchen her mind went back to that conversation
she’d overheard. If the camps were liberated then, she must leave Katja or take her, if Christa were able to grant such a thing. It would be difficult to leave Katja behind. She loved the child.  Zofia glanced at the little girl with the golden curls and marveled again, at how much she looked like Christa. With the new information that Christa had just given her it was hard to believe that she was not Katja’s birth mother.

It would be a difficult decision to leave Katja, but
when the time came and she was able, God willing,   she would leave this terrible place, she would run as fast as she could to find Eidel. Eidel, the child of her blood, that waited somewhere out in the world for her mother’s touch.

That evening after Z
ofia served Manfred and Katja their dinner and brought a bowl of soup to Christa in bed, she helped Christa out into the living room. Zofia placed her arms under Christa’s and helped her into the plush chair next to the sofa. Then she brought out the cake adorned with candles. Katja squealed with delight, melting Zofia’s heart.  Manfred watched Zofia with an intense eye. She could not fully read his expression, only that he fixated his gaze upon her like a threat. Perhaps he worried that she might reveal the secrets of his desire for her to his wife. Perhaps he worried about breaking the Nuremberg laws by spilling his seed into her unacceptable womb.  When her eyes accidently met his, his cold heartless glares made her shiver, knowing he had the power to send her back to the barracks or worse, to the gas chamber. A thin layer of frost covered the windows. It would be cold in the barracks, and she would be hungry again. Part of her wanting to be exiled, longing to be away from him, and yet another side of her not wanting to leave Katja. And still another part of her wishing for death, and yet afraid to die.

“Help me, Mama”
Katja yelled as she tried to blow out the candles.

Z
ofia felt a chill run down her back. She cast a quick glance in Manfred’s direction. But before he could realize that Katja had called her Mama, Christa stepped in.

“
Katja, let Zofia help you.” Christa said, “Can you pick her up for me please and help her to blow out the candles?”

“Yes ma
’am.” Zofia said lifting Katja to stand on the chair so she would be high enough to reach the cake. Zofia held the little girls waist, so she would not fall. Katja leaned over.

“Now make a wish…” Christa said to
Katja.

Katja
squeezed her eyes shut. “Ready!” She called out in her baby voice.

“Alright then, blow out the candles.” Christa smiled.

With all of her strength, Katja blew and blew while Zofia held her tight.

Finally,
all the candles were extinguished and tiny trickles of smoke drifted up from the cake. Katja smiled, turning to kiss Zofia on the cheek. The little girl was proud of her accomplishment.

“Good Job.” Manfred
offered, sipping a snifter of brandy.

“I love you Mama…”
Katja said, but she was looking at Zofia not Christa.

Z
ofia smiled at the child, and then her eyes darted to Manfred hoping he would not take offence and punish her. He seemed unaware. She bit her lower lip.

“Can you cut the cake please, Z
ofia?” Christa asked.

“Yes ma
’am.”

Z
ofia took the cake back into the kitchen and cut it into pieces. She delivered the servings on Christa’s china plates.

“Mama, you have some too.”
Katja said.

“I am.” Christa answered.

“No, you too Mama,” Katja said pointing at Zofia.

“That is not your
mother that is a servant. She does not eat here in our dining room with us.” Manfred said his tone of voice harsh.

Katja
began to cry. Zofia longed to pick her up and comfort her, but the look on Manfred’s face unnerved her.

“Go to the basement. Your job here is done for today.” He said.

Zofia turned and left. As she descended the stairs, she heard Katja crying. “I want my mama, I want my mama”