All My Love, Detrick (22 page)

James nodded, the blood dripping from his nose into his open mouth.

“I’m gonna be fair with ya, only 'cause the boss tol’ me to. I’m gonna give you five C-notes to get the hell outta town and stay the fuck away from that girl. Understand? Now if it were up to me, ya both would be lyin at the bottom of Lake Michigan, but the boss don’t want it that way. So, you take this cash and get your ass outta here. And you fucking make sure the girl don’t find out that the boss had no say-so in your breakin up' with her. Make up some excuse, got it? WE don’t want to hear nothin’ of you here in Chi-town. Understand?”

James nodded as the man threw the envelope at him. James picked it up, staining it with his
blood-covered fingers. And, in an instant, he found himself alone.

With the inside of his jacket, he wiped the blood from his face. Then, with great pain, he held onto the wall and lifted himself. His back and leg ached, but he moved as swiftly as possible to find a taxi back to his apartment.

The following day Dorothy arrived at the club. Roses awaited her in her dressing room. The note that accompanied them brought a stream of tears to her eyes.

Sorry, Doll. I got a phone call from my old girlfriend. We decided to give it another shot. I know you and me had something special, but I just don’t think we was meant to be long term. It was fun while it lasted. Here’s wishing you well.

James

She stared at the note in disbelief. The crack she felt growing in her heart seemed as if it would never mend. How could she ever heal from such a betrayal? Tony had never hurt her like this. He had kept all of his promises. Everyone gossiped at the club. They said that James had a tendency to be a womanizer, but she never believed them. Now she did. Tears spilled down her face as she flung the vase against the wall. The crystal glass broke into a million pieces and the flowers tumbled, scattering their blood-red petals about the floor. Then Dorothy washed her face and cleaned the smeared mascara from under her eyes. After she was satisfied with her appearance, she called for her driver.

“Take me to the hospital,” she told him. “I need to see Tony.”

When she
arrived, she found that the nurses had propped Tony up with pillows. The gray pallor had faded from his handsome face, and he smiled, never revealing what he knew about her and James.

“How do you feel?”

“Great now that you’re here, Baby.”

She would rather spend her life as the mistress of a married man who loved her, than as a plaything to a single man who toyed with women’s emotions.

Taking his hand, she squeezed it, “I love you Tony.”

“I know and I love you, too, Doll.”

66

James boarded the first train headed to New Orleans the following morning. A void had settled in his chest. He loved her, he knew he did, but he hated physical pain, and could not bear the thought of what they might do to him if he didn't run. So he would travel down south to the home of Dixieland jazz, and there he would fill his empty heart with his music.

If he had more aware and less caught up in his sadness, James might have noticed the man in the black suit who’d followed him on to the train.

67

Dorothy returned from the hospital, still brokenhearted, but resigned. Her toes sunk into the plush pile carpet as she sat down at her dressing table that had been imported from France, with its authentic, twenty-four-karat gold handles. Then she reached into the top drawer and removed her embossed stationary and expensive fountain pen, and she began to write. Tears fell silently upon the paper as she told Leah of her years in America. With her heart in her words, she remembered her family and the loss she felt when her father sent her away. Her friend would understand, she thought, as she told Leah of the passion and love she had shared with James. Then she explained the betrayal and Tony’s devotion, as well as the material comforts only he could provide. How she missed Leah, how she wished that they could sit upon her bed, laughing and sharing their feelings again; only her dearest friend could comfort her now, and she could not be with her. Leah, she thought, what has happened to us? Why did things turn out this way? This was not how our lives were meant to be! This is not the way we planned it. Dorothy sighed deeply as her hand wiped the tears from her face. Then she licked the envelope closed and took it outside to the mailbox. She squeezed the letter to her heart, then dropped it into the slot and turned to go back home. The letter would be returned undeliverable three months later. Leah would never receive it.

68

Berlin

Miriam Abdenstern wiped the crumbs from her kitchen counter. Leah had left a few minutes earlier to go to the shop. Jacob had forgotten his lunch and Leah had decided to deliver it to him. After Miriam had finished reading Michael a short story, she noticed that he had nodded off to sleep. Now she finally had a few moments to herself. The ache in her slender, slumping shoulders had grown worse over the past month. She attributed the pain to tension. Michael showed no improvement in his condition. If anything, he seemed to be getting worse. There was no doubt in her mind that he needed medical attention. But, with the state of things in Germany, paying for specialists had become financially impossible. Poor Michael ate very little, and his tiny body felt almost weightless when she turned him over to prevent bedsores. The bones in his chest and hips jutted out like twigs, and sometimes she fearfully imagined they would break apart and dissolve into powder upon his sheets.

Well, at least, for now, he sleeps, she thought, her ears alerted to any sound that might come from his room.

After she filled the teakettle, she placed it on the stove on a low fire. Then, gazing out the small window above the sink, her eyes drifted to the old elm tree that stood in the yard. Its branches shifted softly in the breeze. Memories of Karl surfaced. When he had been a child, he’d climbed that tree and built a tree house. How he had worried her as she'd scanned the yard, calling his name. Finally, she had dropped to her knees in tears, thinking the worst. And, out of nowhere, he’d called to her. She could not see him at first. Then she'd looked up, and there he stood in the tree house he had built, with his hands on his hips, laughing.

Karl, her son -
where had he gone this time? There was surely no easy explanation. Once again, she had lost him, only this time she knew that he could not be found up in the old elm. Without realizing it, she touched her face to find she had been crying. It seemed to the rest of her family that she cared only for Michael. Although they never understood it, she loved all of them. Michael just needed her the most. Miriam dried her face with a kitchen towel.

Please God, where
ver he is, let my Karl be alive and safe.

She ran her hand through her thin, oily hair, which had once been thick and healthy. Since Michael’s accident, she’d aged. She knew she’d lost her youth, and with it, her beauty. She was lost in thought, so the knock on her front door startled her and forced her back into the present.

Quickly she dried her hands, straightened her hair, and forgetting to use the peephole, she opened the door. A man of slight build stood before her. He wore a dark suit at least a size to big for his small frame, white shirt and dark tie. Thick wire-rimmed glasses covered most of his face.

“Mrs
. Abdenstern?”

“Yes?”

“Good Afternoon. I am Doctor Vizelman. May I come in, please? I will not take up much of your time. I would just like to have a few words with you.”

A stir of apprehension darted through her, and then quickly passed. Miriam studied the man. He appeared to be refined, unassuming…soft spoken.

“Come in.” She motioned to him. “Sit down…please.”

Taking a seat across from him, closest to Michael’s room, Miriam waited listening.

“I’ve come concerning your son, Michael.”

“Michael?” She looked at him, wondering what he could want with Michael.

“Yes, Mrs. Abdenstern, I have good news for you.”

Miriam heard the pounding of her heart forcing pulsating blood to flow into her
eardrums.

“You see,” he began again with a warm, sincere smile. “Our Fuehrer is a good man. He wants to help those in need.
And, you see, madam, Michael would benefit greatly from proper medical attention. In fact, wouldn’t it be nice if Michael could live a normal life? Find a job, get married perhaps? It is Hitler’s plan to make Germany a land of healthy, productive citizens. He feels that this will restore Germany to its rightful place as the most powerful country in the world.”

She wondered if the doctor knew that the Abdnesterns were Jews. She opted not to tell him.

The teakettle let out its high-pitched, penetrating whistle. Within a second, Miriam ran to stop the noise before it awakened her son.

“Excuse me… how rude I am. Would you like some tea?” Miriam asked.

“That would be lovely, Thank you.”

As she prepared the tray, her hands trembled. Could this be the answer to her prayers? Every night she prayed that somehow the family would find a way to afford the proper medical help for Michael.

When Miriam returned to the living room, she placed the tray on the coffee table and began to pour, spilling a large circle of the brown liquid.

“Excuse me. I am so sorry. I….well, you have caught me off guard. I guess you could say I am a little stunned.” She wiped the mess with the towel she had tucked into her apron.

“Herr Doctor?” She looked into his eyes, with hope restored in her heart. “What is the cost of this treatment?”

“There is no cost, Mrs. Abdenstern. This is part of the New Germany. Michael
would be sent away to a facility that has been set up to provide the necessary care in order to cure his condition. It is a lovely hospital surrounded by the beautiful German countryside. The perfect place for medical recuperation.”

“It sounds wonderful but I cannot make a decision without my husband. May I have a day or so to discuss it with him?”

“But of course. I will return in two days. Will that give you enough time to make a decision?”

“Yes. Yes, of course, and I certainly appreciate your considering us for this program.”

He placed the cup and saucer carefully down on the tray, showing respect for her china. Then he shook her hand and left, closing the door quietly behind him.

After she returned the tea to the kitchen, Miriam walked quietly into Michael’s room. As she stood in the doorway, her heart sank as she observed his useless limbs suspen
ded upon the bed and his head lying awkwardly to one side, drool running from his lips. Although she’d looked at him every day for years, right at this very moment she saw him anew, and it was then that Miriam made up her mind.

69

Miriam decided to speak to Jacob before mentioning the treatment program to Michael. When Jacob arrived home from the bicycle shop to find Miriam’s mood elevated, a state that had become non-existent in their lives for many years, he watched her with wonder and disbelief.

“Jacob.” She kissed his cheek and he smiled cautiously. “Come, eat. Dinner is ready.”

After washing up, Jacob went to the table. Leah arrived just shortly after. “Has Michael eaten?” she asked Miriam

“Yes, I brought his tray to him earlier.”

Leah had always taken it upon herself to prepare dinner while Miriam spent her time at Michael’s bedside, so to come home and find a hot meal already prepared, with Miriam joining them at the table, seemed pleasant, but strange.

Once they’d finished eating, Miriam placed her napkin on the table. Then looking from Jacob to Leah, then back to Jacob again, she began to speak.

“A man came to visit today….a doctor. He spoke to me about Michael.” She cleared her throat, and then continued. “Apparently, a program has been set up by the government to help those with difficult medical conditions. Michael would be sent to a special hospital where he would receive the treatment necessary for him to live a normal life.”

“And how much will all of this cost?” Jacob studied her face.

“There is no cost. This is Hitler’s way of restoring Germany.”

“And…for Jews they are restoring Germany?” Jacob shook his head with doubt.