Karolina's Twins (15 page)

“It was generally known to the Shop girls that getting a little friendly with a young overseer might get you an extra ration at lunch, not to mention kinder treatment in the Shop. Some of the more attractive girls secretly engaged in encounters, moonlight trysts with their overseers. Some of those developed into more serious relationships. The girls worked fewer hours, enjoyed special treatment and were generally free from abuse.

“The Nazi hierarchy disapproved of such relationships, of course, for several reasons. Time spent flirting was time taken away from sewing. Girls who worked fewer hours finished fewer coats. Not to mention the fact that Germans were forbidden from having relations with Jews. Nevertheless, the hierarchy closed their eyes and the practice continued.”

“I remember Ben telling me that his sister was captured and taken to a brothel to be used by Nazi officers,” Catherine said. “The Nazi elite certainly didn't seem to mind raping and abusing young Jewish women.”

“You're right. Throughout Poland, young women were seized off the streets, taken from work details, pulled out of shops and out of their homes and forced to be prostitutes or sex slaves—call it what you will. Brothels sprung up to service Nazi officers and elite Germans, like the one in Rabka, where Ben's sister was sent. But I have to tell you, little care was given to whether the abused girl was Jewish or Catholic. Brothels are now considered a substantial component of the forty-two thousand five hundred recognized Nazi persecution sites.

“At some point, most of the girls of the Shop were propositioned. ‘Proposition' is probably too euphemistic a term. Many were strong-armed. Many held out, but abhorrent conditions and abject fear compelled increasing numbers to yield. Especially in the cold of winter.

“The winters in Chrzanów were cruel. The frigid temperatures penetrated the unheated buildings and thin blankets afforded little insulation. Most of us curled up as small as we could on our bedding, doubling the blanket, and even then without much relief from the bitter cold. But if a German soldier with a heated apartment showed interest in a Shop girl, she might get to spend the night in his heated bedroom. Shame is preferable to freezing to death. None of the girls passed judgment on such indiscretions.”

Catherine held up her hand. “It's not necessary. You don't have to go there. And you and Karolina certainly have nothing to apologize for.”

“I'm not about to apologize for anything. But you shouldn't jump to conclusions. Not everyone was so quick to climb into bed with a Nazi. Karolina was no fool. Relationships end as quickly as they begin. A long courtship was far more profitable than a burned-out flame. Siegfried was shy and Karolina was gorgeous. She kept him at a delicate distance. Sexual innuendos, but timely dismissals, kept Karolina's relationship with Siegfried in balance—on a delightfully flirtatious level.

“The winter of 1941 to 1942 was historically bitter and it began early. The December temperatures dropped well below zero. We would dress in layers—a blouse, a sweater and a coat. If you were lucky, you had a very warm coat. If you were really lucky, you had two sweaters. You have to realize, back then women did not wear pants or slacks. We wore skirts, most of them mid-calf. And if you were fortunate, you had a pair of boots that would cover your shins. A thin cotton scarf, a babushka, was all we had to cover our heads.

“Inside the Shop it was warm. Outside on the way home, it was frigid. And even when we got home, there was very little relief. The unheated apartment buildings were only a few degrees warmer than outside. Even double blankets didn't help much. Sleep was nearly impossible. There was just no way to get warm. The wind would whip through the rattling windows, even though we stuffed the seams with newsprint.

“When December settled in, and the north winds blew, it chilled me to the bone. I froze every night. I'd slide into every piece of clothing and blanket I had, and if I were lucky I'd cry myself to sleep, but an hour later I'd wake up with violent shivers. Psychologically and physically, I was losing the battle. Each day I dreaded going home. I couldn't handle anticipating another frigid eight hours. On top of that, I wasn't feeling well. I was run-down, dehydrated and malnourished. We didn't get enough vitamins or proteins to fight the cold. The meager amounts of food we had did not provide sustenance and our resistance was down. I felt like every bit of energy was sapped from my body. I began to seriously wonder if I was going to make it through another night.

“Finally, on an exceptionally bitter night in late December, as I lay curled up, doubled in my blanket, cardboard over me, shaking so hard my teeth rattled, I knew I had come to the end of my rope. I was ready to give up. I really didn't care whether I lived or died. Just take me out of this misery. And if it weren't for Karolina, right then and there, I would not have made it to the morning.

“I was lying there, shaking so badly and crying so hard, when suddenly I felt a hand tap me on my back. Karolina had come over to my bed with her blanket and her mat. ‘Move over,' she said, ‘You've got company.' She got under the covers and wrapped herself around me. “Don't,' I said to her, ‘I think I'm getting sick and I don't want you to catch it.' ‘Shut up,' she said. ‘Just move over.'

“The two of us, wrapped up in each other's arms, lay on the two mats underneath two blankets. I was out of gas, ready to succumb to the nightmare. But Karolina had strength where I had none. She was determined that I should live. She brought me back from the edge. The heat of our two bodies mingled and warmed us through the night.”

Lena stopped. Tears rolled down her face, her lips quivered and she took short convulsive breaths. Catherine produced a box of tissues and put her arm around Lena's shoulders to comfort her as best she could. “Do you want to stop here?” Catherine asked.

Lena shook her head. “We survived. Each ice-cold night we would curl up together, my arms around her beautiful body, our legs entwined, and we survived. Do you understand? In the cold of the Polish night, many did not. We would wake up in the morning, but some did not. Sometimes we would find little children frozen to death, their tiny bodies curled up for all eternity.

“Frostbite was common and the consequences were horrible. The ghetto clinic, with a ridiculous paucity of medical supplies, tried to treat the winter's victims, sometimes with amputation, sometimes with a bundle of bandages, but many did not survive at all. Some survived with purple fingers. But, because of the strength and willpower of Karolina, I made it.”

“She kept you warm.”

“It was much more than that. I told you I thought I was coming down with something. I wasn't well. Despite everything Karolina did to keep me warm, I got sick. I had a fever. I couldn't shake it. I alternated between chills and sweats. Finally it got so bad I couldn't go to work. David covered for me at the Shop. That night, Karolina came back from work with a cup of hot soup.

“‘Where did you get this?' I asked. ‘Don't worry about it,' she said. ‘Just get better.' Of course, I knew she'd gotten the soup from Siegfried and that distressed me. Each night, she'd bring me a cup of soup, some cheese and meat. During her lunch break she'd bring me hot tea, toast with jam, even a piece of fruit. I knew where it was all coming from and I begged her not to make promises to Siegfried. I begged her not to compromise herself.

“‘Shut up,' she'd say. ‘Karolina can take care of herself.'

“Still, despite the food and care I was receiving, I couldn't shake the fever. I was having trouble breathing. I had a racking cough. My eyes were red. And during the day, when Karolina was at work and I had to lie in the bed alone, I shivered convulsively.

“Karolina knew I was failing. Finally, she went to the ghetto clinic, collared a doctor and brought him to see me. I was sweating badly as he examined me. When he was finished he stood, pressed his lips together and shook his head at Karolina. ‘It's pneumonia,' he said in a whisper, but I heard him. ‘We have no antibiotics, I'm sorry.'

“The next night Karolina didn't come home at all. She returned in the morning, stood over my bed straightening my covers and tried to sit me up. I was half-delirious.

“‘Karolina, where were you?'

“‘Open up. We're going to get you better.' She had a bottle of medicine and gave me a spoonful. Do you have any idea what the Nazis would do to someone who gave antibiotics to a Jew? The penalty was death. This was the risk that Siegfried took for Karolina, and I knew instantly what she'd had to do to get the medicine.

“I grabbed her wrists and cried. ‘Oh, Karolina, what did you do?'

“‘I'm fine. Don't concern yourself with me. Just take the medicine and get better.'

“The next night she stayed away and returned again in the early morning hours to feed me antibiotics. I cried. I said, ‘Don't do this. I'm not worth it.' She hushed me.

“Karolina's sacrifices and the medicine worked. Karolina nursed me through my sickness and back to health. A week later I was well enough to return to my sewing station. Back to work, weaker but on the mend. Even after the arctic blasts had passed and the temperature moderated, and except for those nights she didn't come home, we continued to sleep together under the same blanket, our arms around each other. Karolina warmed my body, and her goodness and selflessness warmed my soul. Under the most hellish conditions of human existence, Karolina would cradle me at night and because of her, I survived.”

Lena leaned forward and spoke intensely. “Now do you understand? Do you realize why I must keep my promise? I have never loved anyone in my life as deeply as I loved that woman. There was nothing she wouldn't do for me. She saved my life. I owe her and I'm going to repay her.”

Catherine nodded. “We'll do it together.”

“Even after spring finally arrived and the nights had warmed, it felt awkward to sleep alone. We had become so close. It was so natural for us to get into bed together. And so we did. We entered 1942 together, and that was a pivotal year for me.”

Catherine put down her pen and stood to stretch.

“This would probably be a good time for us to break,” Lena said. “I'm tired and I can see that you need a break as well. Can we pick up here next time?”

“Thank you.”

 

F
OURTEEN

“I'
M DYING FOR A
dish of rocky road,” Catherine said, sitting on the couch in her terry robe.

“And we don't have any?” Liam anticipated the worst.

“If we did, I'd get up and get it myself.”

He sighed. “Cat, it's eleven
P.M.
There are no ice cream stores open at this hour.”

“Mariano's is open till midnight.”

“Mariano's is a grocery store.”

“They have ice cream.”

“Cat…”

She smiled broadly. “I have a craving.”

“That's just some myth that women make up to manipulate men during pregnancy.”

“How would you know? Are you a woman?”

“Women are devious. It's a proven fact.”

“Do you want to carry this child?”

Liam groaned, stood, walked to the hall and put on his coat. “Mariano's is twenty minutes away,” he grumbled.

“Thank you, dear.”

*   *   *

“I
REVIEWED LENA'S MEDICAL RECORDS,”
Catherine said to Liam when he returned.

“Really, what did you learn?”

“Mmm. This ice cream is fabulous. One more little dish, please. Just a little, and then I'll tell you.”

“Cat.”

“I'll tell you when I get my ice cream.”

Liam returned to the living room with another dish of ice cream and sat beside her. “Are you doing all right?” he said.

“What do you mean? With the pregnancy? Just because I want more ice cream?”

He shook his head. “With Lena. With her story. Is this a project we need to take on right now? I remember how depressed you became when you were interviewing Ben Solomon. He would tell you about the tragedies that occurred to him and his family during the Holocaust and you would have screaming nightmares. Don't you remember Christmas Eve, when you saw ghosts in the church vestibule? And outside the church, when you thought the chestnut salesman was an oracle?”

“The Nazis' cruelty was beyond comprehension, Liam. It's unbelievable what these people went through. But this second time around, though no less horrific, is more manageable to me. I'm in a position where I can actually help someone and make a difference. If I can help her close a chapter of her life, whether or not we ever find these children, well … you understand.”

Liam smiled and kissed her on the cheek. “Tell me about the medical records.”

“I received the records in the morning mail and followed up with a telephone conversation with Dr. Watkins late this afternoon. He's her primary-care physician and he's treated her for twenty-five years. The records themselves do not disclose any symptoms or treatments for mental deterioration. There are notes of discussions between Dr. Watkins and Lena about her mental acuity. He notes, ‘Seems focused, no reports of confusion, no incidents of disorientation or poor judgment.'”

“Well, that's good. Where's Arthur going to get his medical support for a guardian petition?”

“The notes are fine. It was my conversation with the doctor that raised a couple of troublesome issues. He's noticed increased anxiety, but tends to attribute it to Lena's obsession with the two children.”

Liam winced. “He said ‘obsession'?”

Catherine nodded. “But not mental deterioration. He said that while one out of every three seniors will die of Alzheimer's disease, and two-thirds of them are women, he hasn't detected any of the signs in Lena. I asked him whether he ever recommended that she be evaluated for any other dementia, and he conceded that he saw no reason to do so. At her checkup he gave give her a mental-status exam that he would normally conduct on any eighty-nine-year-old woman, and she seemed fine. He saw no reason to prescribe any more extensive testing, such as brain imaging or neuropsychological testing.”