Hiding Edith (8 page)

“Do you know where they are now?”

Eric shrugged. “All over. My sister was sent to England, my brother to China. My parents managed to send a couple of letters
through the Red Cross, but they were only allowed twenty-five words, so I didn’t learn very much.”

Edith stared at the picture. “Eric, if your parents arrived here and wanted to take you away with them, would you go?”

He frowned. “I’ve been away from my family for so long that I can’t really picture us together. Besides, I’m old enough to look after myself.”

“But if they did come,” insisted Edith, “would you leave Moissac? Eve’s parents came for her today. They say that Eve is safe with them. Shatta says she’s safer here. What do you think?”

Eric paused thoughtfully. “I trust Shatta,” he said at last. “This house has been here for four years, and so far everyone has stayed safe. You can’t say the same for the Jews elsewhere.” With that, he turned back to his work.

A few days later, after supper, Edith was helping to tidy the dining room. After the other girls had left, she hesitantly approached Shatta. “Have you heard from Eve?” Edith asked. By now, everyone knew that Eve had left with her parents.

Shatta shook her head. “The news is not good,” she said, her voice catching. “Our sources tell me that Eve and her family have been arrested and sent to a concentration camp. All we can do now is pray that they survive.”

Edith thought about Eve for weeks after that, playing the scene of Eve’s departure over in her mind like a record. After that night in the dining room, Shatta had refused to say much more about Eve, and Edith understood how painful her leaving was for Shatta. Each child in the house was like one of her own. To lose one was like losing a member of her family. Shatta could be tough on the outside, but she was vulnerable when it came to her children. As for Edith, seeing Eve’s parents had just intensified her longing for her own family. Being with them had always felt safe; yet, that was when Papa had been taken away. No one had been arrested here in Moissac, at least not yet. Edith felt more confused than ever.

One morning, several weeks later, Edith woke up before the bell, rolled over, and stretched. The sound of birds singing drifted through the open windows, and she lay still, listening. Wait — it was too quiet. She sat up and looked around the room. The dormitory was empty.

Edith was suddenly wide-awake.
Where is everyone? They’ve gone
, she thought, panic rising.
They’ve gone and left me behind. The
Nazis are coming and someone forgot to wake me in time to leave. I’m the only one they’ll find!

She shook her head and scolded herself. “Stop making things worse! Calm down, Edith.” The sound of her voice echoed in the empty room. Just then, Sarah and all Edith’s roommates burst through the door.

“Happy birthday, Edith!” The girls crowded around, cheering and applauding. “You took forever to wake up!”

She was so startled that she couldn’t speak. It was July 8, 1943. She was eleven years old. How could she have forgotten?

“Come on, sleepyhead,” said Sarah. “Get dressed and let’s go to breakfast. There’s a surprise for you.”

Edith smiled gratefully. Sarah had remembered her special day! The girls washed, dressed, and finished their chores in record time. Edith flew down the stairs behind Sarah, burst into the dining room — and stopped in her tracks. Everyone in the house was there, standing, waiting for her. Henri picked up his baton and the choir began to sing. “Bonne fete a toi. Happy birthday to you.” Soon everyone had joined in. Shatta and Bouli gave Edith a warm hug and wished her a happy birthday. She was overwhelmed. There was birthday cake and flowers on her table, and at her place, a small package.

“It’s not much,” Sarah said apologetically, “but at least we remembered.”

Eyes shining brightly, Edith opened the package and found a red zippered case. She turned it over in her hands.

“Open it,” cried Sarah.

Edith unzipped the leather case. It was a manicure set, complete with a small pair of scissors, a clipper, and a nail file. She gave Sarah a huge hug. “Thank you so much,” she whispered. “It’s the best present I ever received.” And it was. Yet compared with her parties and presents in Vienna, it was so small.

Edith had a fleeting memory of past birthdays. Mutti baked beautiful birthday cakes, and Therese was especially kind. Papa took her shopping for a new dress, and her friends and cousins showered her with presents. In Belgium and France, she had celebrated her birthday quietly, just with parents and siblings. But now she didn’t even know where her parents were. Edith shook these thoughts away. It was her birthday, and for this moment, on this day, she was determined to be happy.

There was one more birthday surprise to come. It was the least expected, but the best present she could have ever imagined receiving. As Edith arrived back from school that day, Shatta called to her.

“First of all, happy birthday again, my dear,” Shatta said warmly. “Has it been a good day for you?”

“Oh yes, Shatta,” Edith replied. “The best day in a long time.”

“Well, I think it’s going to get even better,” Shatta said mysteriously. “There is a surprise for you in my office.” Edith looked puzzled and a little wary. Shatta laughed and gently pushed Edith toward her open office door.

A woman stood in front of her. “Mutti!” Edith shouted, and flew into her mother’s arms.

“Oh my darling, it’s so good to hold you,” Mutti whispered, as they stood wrapped in a loving embrace. Finally, Mutti took Edith by the shoulders and held her at arm’s length. “Let me look at you, birthday girl. Ah, only four months and you look so much older. You’re so grown up!”

Edith’s face glowed as she gazed into her mother’s eyes.
This must be a dream
, she thought. She closed her eyes tightly for a moment, but when she opened them again, her mother was still in front of her.

Edith suddenly frowned. “But you, Mutti, you’re so thin.” It was true. Mutti looked haggard and sickly. Her eyes were sunken, and her once beautiful skin lay in soft wrinkled folds.

Mutti shook her head. “It’s hard to get food. Everything is rationed, and I don’t have a ration book. But don’t worry,” she said, seeing the pain in Edith’s look. “I’m fine, and lucky to be with a good family. Thank goodness you are here. You and Gaston — both safe. I’ve just seen him and he looks wonderful.”

Edith felt a sudden sharp pang of guilt: she was well fed and taken care of, while Mutti …

Mutti raised Edith’s face with her hand. “Knowing that my children are safe gives me strength and nourishment.” Mutti sighed. “Come, my darling. Sit with me and tell me everything.”

And Edith did. She talked about the routine of the house, and about how kind Shatta and Bouli were. She told Mutti about Sarah, Eric, and the other children. She talked about school and how well she seemed to be doing. Mutti listened hungrily to every word and, as Edith told her stories, seemed to gather strength from them.

Then, it was Mutti’s turn. Her story was harder to listen to. She was hiding with a farming family north of Moissac; Therese was with another family close by. Both were working as maids, cleaning and cooking. Mutti saw Therese occasionally, but they had to be careful not to be seen together, in case someone became suspicious. And while the families hiding them were caring and generous, Mutti added, “There are plenty of people only too happy to turn in a couple of Jewish women.” Still, they were both out of harm’s way, she assured Edith.

“And Papa?” Edith asked.

Mutti shook her head. “No, no word.”

That was painful to hear. The silence that followed hurt so much that Edith quickly changed the subject. “How did you get here, Mutti? It’s so far, all alone.”

“I didn’t want to use the trains. I was too afraid someone might ask for identity papers. So I rode in trucks and hay wagons — farmers are often willing to help a woman traveling alone, without asking questions. It took two days, but it’s been worth every second,” she added, hugging Edith once more.

Edith didn’t want to let go — didn’t want to think that her mother might walk out the door again. But all too soon, it was time for Mutti to leave.

“Please don’t go, Mutti!” Edith begged hoarsely. She desperately clung to her mother. This parting was even harder than the first one, four months earlier. “When will you come back? When will I see you again?”

Mutti pulled away gently. “I will try to visit again, but I can’t promise. You are always in my heart,” she whispered, then turned and walked out the door.

Edith sat alone, aching with sadness. Finally, she walked slowly upstairs and slumped on her bed. She told Sarah about Mutti’s visit and how hard the goodbye had been. But Sarah’s reaction was a shock.

“Stop whining,” she said. “You’re lucky you have a mother who can visit. Look around, Edith. Most of us don’t know where our mothers are. We don’t even know if they’re alive.” With that, Sarah turned her back on Edith and started her homework.

Edith felt as if her friend had slapped her. She glanced uneasily around the room. Some girls were glaring at her with the same hostility she had seen when Eve’s parents came for her. Others looked envious, and turned away with tears in their eyes. “I’m sorry, everyone,” Edith said in a small voice. She knew she was luckier than the other girls, but that didn’t make her feel any less miserable or less abandoned.

“It’s my birthday today, Sophie,” Edith whispered into her pillow. “Happy birthday to me. I got my mother as a present — but then she was taken away.” Her tears fell quietly onto her pillow.

Edith awoke early the next morning. She had slept little. Her eyes were puffy from crying, and her head felt as heavy as her heart. Her birthday had been such a jumble of emotions: the excitement of having the whole house remember her special day, the thrill of seeing Mutti, and her despair when Mutti left. Edith didn’t want to talk to the other girls this morning; those feeling were confusing, too. So she dressed quietly, made her bed, and wandered down the hall. The cook would be up and in the kitchen. Maybe Edith could help her. Just listening to Cook’s stories would be a welcome distraction.

Edith made her way downstairs, savoring the peacefulness. Soon the house would be buzzing with activity. As she crossed the front hallway, she was startled by a heavy knock at the main door. No one else was about, so she pulled the big wooden door open.

A man Edith vaguely recognized from town stood, hat in hand, and bowed slightly when she greeted him.

“Is Madame Simon here?” he asked. He shifted from one foot to the other and glanced over his shoulder, nervously checking up
and down the street. “It’s important,” he added, as Edith stepped aside to allow him to enter.

“This way, monsieur.” Edith motioned the man to follow her across the hall to Shatta’s office and knocked softly on the door.

“Entrez! Come in,” called Shatta.

Edith peered into the office. “There’s someone to see you, Shatta — a man from town.”

Shatta quickly strode to the door, shook his hand, and led him inside. Then she turned to Edith. “Join your friends, my dear. Thank you.” The door closed in Edith’s face.

Something was not right — and that made Edith uneasy. There were often visitors to the house: the man who brought eggs, the women who cleaned, the doctor who visited the sick. But this seemed different. Perhaps it was the man’s nervous manner. Maybe it was Shatta closing the door on her. Whatever it was, Edith put her ear to the door to listen. The voices inside the office were soft but urgent, and she strained to catch what was being said.

“The mayor has just received word that there will be a raid on Moissac — tomorrow, perhaps even later today,” the man was saying. “He urges you to gather the children and leave quickly.”

Shatta was saying something in reply, but Edith had heard enough. She stumbled blindly through the hall. Her head was spinning, her heart pounding. She had been waiting for this nightmare, had fantasized that it would happen. But this was not a dream. The emergency was real.

Somehow, Edith managed to make it up the stairs and back into her room. Sarah and the other girls were up and dressing.

“What’s wrong?” Sarah asked, as Edith stormed into the dormitory.

Edith pulled Sarah over to a corner. “Shatta is talking to this man,” she blurted out, struggling to calm herself. “He says the Nazis are about to raid Moissac. He said we have to leave. Sarah, what’s going to happen to us?” All of the uncertainty that Edith had felt toward Sarah the night before vanished. Edith needed Sarah now; she needed an ally to help her understand what was happening.

Sarah nodded calmly. “We’ll be fine, Edith.”

Before she had a chance to say more, Germaine rushed in, ordering everyone downstairs for a meeting. Shatta and Bouli were waiting.

“Children, we must go camping. I’ve just received word from our friend the mayor.” Shatta’s voice was controlled but firm. “The soldiers are coming to Moissac to look for Jews. Our gear is all ready. So quickly, run to your rooms and grab any last things you might need.”