Ashes (26 page)

“Something wrong, Gaby?” she asked.

I looked up at her.

“Yes,” I said quietly.

Her forehead crinkled up anxiously. “What is it,
Schatzi
?”
How dare she call meSchatzi
, I thought.

“This!” I said, and stabbed my finger at the picture.

She came around and cocked her head to see what I was looking at. “This!” I repeated vehemently.

“Oh, that,” she replied casually.

I could have hit her full in the face. I jumped up and glared at her. “That is what you call a chance for things to get better? The chance you dream of, Hertha!”

Hertha took off her apron and set it down elaborately. “Herr Himmel is right. You are—the lot of you—nothing but white Jews!”

And so she left. I was the one responsible for making her go. Quite truthfully I was rather shocked by my own power. Stunned, really. Mama and Papa were relieved, but I could tell a little dismayed, that it had fallen to me to finally do what they considered a task not for a child.

 

 

There had been so much turmoil that I had nearly forgotten about Ulla's “situation.” That is how she and I referred to it when we talked about it, which was not often. When I inquired she said, “I'm going to tell Mama and Papa soon. Karl wants us to marry in May—that's just six weeks away really. But Karl is very busy right now and so am I, and we just figure we shouldn't get our parents upset before it's necessary.” We were both in the kitchen doing dishes. It was the first evening after Hertha's departure. Baba was already on the lookout for a new maid for us.

“But what about Vienna?” I asked.

“Don't talk to me about Vienna!” she snapped. And normally I would have shut up. But this time I didn't. “Well, what about it?”

“There are many more important things,” she shot back.

A sudden dread sparked a memory. The posters in the library flashed into my mind, and the booklets promoting “Strength Through Joy,” the joy of producing a baby for the Reich.

“What are you doing? Producing babies for Hitler?”

Ulla's hand shot out. There was a loud crack. It was the sound more than the actual smack across my cheek that startled me. I closed my eyes. I actually saw stars exploding on the inside of my eyelids. I didn't feel the sting of the slap—not yet. If I didn't feel it, would it mean it hadn't really happened? I kept my eyes sealed shut until the jittering stars and threads of light that scrambled on the underside of my eyelids bled to a fierce white light, like the white wall of light in the cave of the she-wolf and her pups in
White Fang
.

There were tussles in the den amongst the wolf pups, often followed by the swift discipline of the mother. The quick cuff delivered when a cub would approach the mysterious white light of what it did not even know was the entry to the world outside the cave. I don't know how long I stood there, but when I opened my eyes, Ulla had left the kitchen.

 

 

Although Rosa still had to go to school, both Rosa's mother and mine were very good about letting us get together, even on school nights, which in the past was unheard of. So we got to see almost as much of each other as before. Since Rosa was still in school, it was decided that she should keep me up with some of the schoolwork. So it was with Rosa that I now was studying English. Papa taught me mathematics. Rosa and I did Latin together, as well as history and biology. We alternated studying at each other's apartments. One evening I was walking Rosa back to her house from mine. We had gone around the back way so that we were in an alley behind Haberlandstrasse, perhaps two blocks from my apartment, when something caught our eye. Two men were going into the back entrance of an apartment building. Rosa noticed, too.

“Isn't that your father's friend?” Rosa whispered.

“What? Who?”

“You know, your uncle Hessie.”

I squinted in the direction she was nodding. It certainly looked like Uncle Hessie, and then the second man turned, and it was my father! They were both dressed in workmen's blue coveralls, the kind of one-piece garments that manual laborers wore. Was this a joke? Were they in some sort of disguise? For what reason?

“Quick!” I whispered. We ducked behind some trash bins in the alley. I soon realized that this was Professor Einstein's building, 5 Haberlandstrasse. A man came to the back door of the building and motioned Papa and Hessie in. We waited and waited for them to come back out, but they didn't. It was becoming late. Rosa had to get home, so we left.

When Papa came home later, I didn't have the nerve to ask him what he had been doing. Mama seemed a bit nervous, and I didn't want to upset her by asking either. It would remain a mystery for another few days.

About a week later, when I came to the breakfast table, Mama and Papa and Ulla were already sitting there. They had very odd expressions on their faces. Mama looked as if she had been crying but was trying to smile. Papa looked confused, to say the least. And Ulla looked like a doll with a painted-on smile.

“Should I tell Gaby, Mother, or should you?” Ulla asked.

“Oh . . . oh!” Mama touched her hair nervously. She turned to me. There was an almost wild look in her eyes, like a bird trying to find an escape. “Well, we have some surprising but exciting news. Ulla and Karl plan to get married.”

“Soon,” Papa said.

I looked at Ulla. She gave me an almost pleading look. I got it immediately. I was not supposed to know that she was pregnant. I was just supposed to play along like this was all so wonderful. How stupid did Mama and Papa think I was? But I did play along for a while.

“Do I get to be a bridesmaid?” I tried to sound slightly enthusiastic.

“Well, it's going to be a small affair. But, yes, we'll certainly get you a new dress,” Mama said, attempting a brightness in her voice that was less than convincing. “We'll have a small engagement party soon so we can meet Karl's parents, Herr and Frau Schenker.”

“When's the big day?” I asked.

“It's not going to be a big day,” Papa growled. Mama gave him a desperate look.

“It is going to be a lovely, tasteful event. Size has nothing to do with it,” she said fiercely.

Size might have everything to do with it!
I thought.
It had better be soon, or Ulla is going to have a big belly hanging out.
She was about four months pregnant, at least that's what she calculated. I could just picture her in a wedding dress holding a huge bouquet across her stomach.

Mama continued, “Karl is involved in some activities related to the engineering school at the university so he's quite busy.” She had her brown leather date book on the table beside her place. “Let's see, it is now the last week of March. We thought weather permitting, we would have the engagement party here in the garden in April. The tulips will be up. I hope I can get in the new myrtle I've ordered and two new rosebushes. And then the wedding will be in May.”

I nodded dumbly. What was I supposed to say? “Yes, well”—Mama closed her book and pressed her lips together in what was supposed to be a smile—“much to be done.” She got up from the table.

“Yes, very much!” Papa said, looking into his plate and rising to leave.

Ulla and I were left alone at the table. She leaned over and took my hand. “Thank you for pretending you didn't know. And . . .” Her voice started to break. “I'm so sorry about”—she swallowed—“slapping you. I don't know what came over me. I wasn't angry with you. It had nothing to do with you.”

“You were scared,” I said. I am not sure how I knew this, but as soon as I saw the look in her eyes I knew I was right. Ulla was very scared, and it wasn't just about being pregnant. “Ulla, can't you get out of this some way? I mean, you could get rid of the baby. I've heard older girls at school talking about this.”

“No! No!” She shook her head. “That's a crime, and Karl would never hear of it.” Ulla was breathing hard. She ducked her head, inhaled deeply, and looked down at her hands, which were folded primly in her lap. “I just have to make the best of it.” Then she looked up brightly. “Gaby, will you be the godmother?”

“Uh, sure,” I replied. I was supposed to be honored and excited, but I was just confused. I liked babies and all, but everything was having to change for Ulla because of this baby.

“Oh, good! That will make me very happy!”

She must have caught my lack of enthusiasm.

“I really love Karl. You have to believe that.”

“I do,” I replied. But did I?

 

 

That afternoon Ulla and I went out on a preliminary expedition in search of a wedding dress for her and my dress for the wedding. Mama was busy with music lessons and more housework. Baba had found us a part-time cook and maid, but we were all doing more of the chores that Hertha had done. Mama said we should go, and if we really liked anything we should get it, as the very next day a boycott of Jewish businesses would begin. We went to Wertheim, which still had the SA men posted at its doors. As soon as we got in I told Ulla what Baba had said last summer to the SA, about dating the Wertheim brothers. I thought Ulla would die laughing. It made me happy. She had been so tense for so long. I had begun to wonder if she had a laugh left in her. We didn't buy dresses that day, but seeing Ulla laugh was worth the trip.

That evening Papa was out late, and Mama and Ulla and I had dinner, just the three of us, in the music room. It was what Mama called a tray supper. We ate light food—sandwiches and some fruit. We often did this when Papa was out. It was cozy. I tried to imagine a little cradle with a baby in it in the room with us. It suddenly struck me that this little tray supper in the music room had been prearranged in some way. Mama picked up a glass of wine. She rarely had wine when Papa was away from home for dinner.

“Gaby, I thought this might be a good time to explain something to you. It's about Ulla's wedding.” I slid my eyes toward Ulla. “Well, this is a little difficult for me to explain but um . . . it seems,” Mama said this in an airy almost offhand way, “that Ulla and Karl are going to have a baby.”

It was all I could do to keep from rolling my eyes. Mein Gott,
does she think I was born yesterday? It
seems
they are going to be having a baby? Like this just happened out of the blue?
Mama had already told me the facts of life. But now, God forbid, pregnancy should be mentioned! And pregnancy before marriage, no less. Mama's reluctance to say the word was ridiculous, but I was prepared to play my part.

“Oh, how exciting. Congratulations!” I cocked my head slightly at Ulla and looked at her with a somewhat disingenuous smile. But I must say I thought I was doing a great job. “When is the baby coming?”

“Well, I don't know exactly,” Ulla replied. “Mama, did you call Dr. Steinman to arrange an appointment?”

“Well, that's another little problem. I heard a rumor that the government is planning to forbid insurance companies to cover treatment by Jewish physicians.”

“But Mama, all of our doctors are Jewish, except Schumacher the dentist. What are we going to do if the rumor is true?” Ulla asked.

“Oh, I'm sure we'll find someone.”

“I don't want a dentist delivering my baby,” Ulla mumbled. Mama gave Ulla a sharp look. This was a bit too clinical for the level of conversation Mama wanted maintained for my innocent ears. A stork delivering a baby, fine. But no reference to an actual medical procedure.

By the time we went to bed, Papa was not yet home. I figured that he had purposely stayed out late so he could avoid any of this conversation.

Of all the creatures that were made, he [man] is the most detestable. Of the entire brood he is the only one-the solitary one-that possesses malice. That is the basest of all instincts, passions, vices-the most hateful. . . . He is the only creature that inflicts pain for sport, knowing it to
be
pain. . . . Also-in all the list he is the only creature that has a nasty mind.

- Mark Twain, “The Character of Man”

 

 

 

 

I
'm not sure how long I had been asleep after the tray supper, but suddenly I felt someone shaking my shoulder. “Wake up, Gaby! I have to show you something.”

“What? What?” I rose up on one elbow.

“Come here, look out the window,” Ulla said.

It was raining—a hard, slanting rain. We went and stood by the window in Ulla's room, which looked directly down into the garden. There were two figures hunched over. One appeared to be digging with a shovel; the other was decidedly smaller and held an umbrella over the larger figure. There was something about the way the umbrella was held that looked very familiar.

“It's Mama!” I said, turning to Ulla. Ulla nodded.

“What are they doing? It's hardly gardening weather,” she whispered. And Mama only gardened in the evening in Caputh.

I knew immediately. It all added up beautifully like an equation. First Mama and Papa were talking about Einstein's house in Caputh. Then Mama asked if Einstein would come back to Germany or if he had left for good. “He has papers here doesn't he?” Mama had asked. Papa replied, “Yes, important ones.” And then there was the scene Rosa and I had witnessed in the alley.

“They're burying Einstein's papers,” I said.

“What?” Ulla said.

I told her what Rosa and I had seen.