For Such a Time (33 page)

“But, Herr Kommandant . . .” Joseph came suddenly awake. “Why did he return to the castle at night? Why didn’t he just stay away?”

“The prince couldn’t stay away. He was tied to the enchantment like the castle itself. Only love’s magic could set him free and save him from the nightmares that were killing him little by little each night. They made him lose all hope of ever healing, or feeling anything but pain.”

Aric looked up at her then. Time stopped as she drank in the sight of him: his rugged face pale with exhaustion, the taut creases framing his mouth.

“Did the prince ever find his love?”

The child’s drowsy voice punctured the silence. “He did,” Aric said, his gaze never leaving Hadassah’s. “But by then it was too late. The castle demons had twisted it into something despised and ugly so that the prince could no longer believe in it.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “He could no longer believe in himself.”

Joseph had already fallen asleep. Hadassah searched the face of the man before her, feeling joy, frustration, even laughter. Most of all, she ached for the comfort of his embrace.

Yet she resisted the impulse. “He should have trusted in his love. It was always true, even though circumstances didn’t seem that way,” she said.

Aric rose from the bed to stand beside her. “You’re right.” Anger flashed in his eyes as he raised a finger to gently trace her bruised cheek. “Perhaps then he wouldn’t have let others destroy it.”

Hadassah’s heart raced. “Are you so certain it’s gone?”

Her words seemed to have a profound effect on him. The grim mask disintegrated, revealing an expression of longing and uncertainty. He took back the houndstooth coat and wrapped it around her shoulders. When he drew her close, she breathed in the scent of his spiced cologne, felt the damp snow that clung to him. “Love’s magic never dies,” she whispered.

“Then make me believe again,” he said, his face mere inches from hers. “Save me, Hadassah . . .”

His voice broke on a plea so softy spoken it seemed more breath than substance. The words penetrated to the core of her soul. She raised a tentative hand to his cheek, then brushed her lips across his—once, twice, before his mouth seized hers with a desperation so fierce it threatened to shatter them both. His hands cupped the back of her head as he deepened the kiss, telling her without words that he would never again let her go.

Hadassah wrapped her arms around his waist, comforted in the solid feel of him. She kissed him back with equal passion, telling him without words that lies would never again come between them.

He cradled her face with his hands even after he ended the kiss. When Hadassah finally opened her eyes, she saw in his expression a look she’d never seen before.

Hope.

“Always love me,” he whispered. He kissed the tip of her nose, then her cheek and the edge of her brow.

“Which woman do you love, Aric?” she breathed.

His only answer was to smile and kiss her again. “We don’t have much time.”

“Time for what?”

“He’s got a plan, child.”

Hadassah’s gaze flew to the doorway, where her uncle stood. “Tatteh?” She blushed at seeing his smug expression. How long had he been there? “What plan?” she asked.

Morty beamed. “Salvation, of course.”

 38 

“Now write another decree in the king’s name in behalf of the Jews. . . .”

Esther 8:8

H
adassah followed Aric as he carried Joseph toward the door, where her uncle waited.

Outside the room, she glanced around for the guard. “Corporal Sonntag has been detained,” Aric said at her questioning look. “Come, we must hurry. Our favorite captain will return in a couple of hours and there’s still much to do.”

“Where is he now?” she asked.

“In Prague, arranging my court-martial.”

Hadassah gasped. “Why . . . ?”

“I’ll explain later.” To Morty he said, “Is everyone in place?”

Her uncle nodded as he led the way downstairs. “I’ve spread the word. Everyone wishing to board tonight’s train will meet us outside the infirmary. I’ve recruited volunteers to distract the guards away from that area.” He flashed a crafty smile. “A little fire.”

“And the railroad man?”

“Lenny Buczak will be waiting for us in the ghetto’s kitchen, as you requested.”

“Excellent.” Aric gently shifted the sleeping bundle in his arms. Hadassah carried Aric’s cane. She’d also brought along her Bible. Morty glanced at the book but didn’t say a word.

“What are you planning to do?” she asked Aric.

“Steal a train.”

Before she could reply, he cut her off. “No more questions, love. Come, you’ll see.”

Outside, the snow had stopped. Morning’s dingy light had faded to the soft gray pallor of afternoon. They reached the street and made their way to the ghetto kitchen where a welcome fire in the brazier and the smell of cooked cabbage greeted them.

Hadassah had expected to see Yaakov and was surprised to find Helen there, as well. The housekeeper rushed forward to wrap her in a crushing embrace. Then she took the sleeping child from Aric and moved with him to a bench near the brazier.

Two others sat on the opposite side of the kitchen table: a slender young man and a middle-aged woman, neither of whom Hadassah recognized. The woman clasped and unclasped her red-knuckled hands against the table.

Aric glanced around the room. “Where’s Rand?”

“Herr Kommandant.” Sergeant Grossman moved out of the shadows. He offered Hadassah a curt nod before facing his commanding officer.

“How are you feeling, my friend?”

The tall soldier’s movements were stiff. “Much better.”

“Thank you for coming. And you too, Helen.” He flashed an amused look at the housekeeper. “But remind me never to make you angry. You cook a very wicked Rahmkalbsbeuschel.”

Confused by the conversation, Hadassah nonetheless felt warmed at the loyalty of these people. She wasn’t fooled—whatever Aric and her uncle had planned was certainly dangerous.

Aric retrieved his glasses before pulling a folded piece of paper
from his coat pocket. He smoothed what appeared to be a map out on the table while Morty lit a kerosene lamp.

Aric caught up her hand and pulled her close. Only after he gave her fingers a quick squeeze did Hadassah realize she was tense. She took a deep breath, forcing herself to relax.

“This is Lenny Buczak.” Morty indicated the slender young man at the table. “And Mrs. Brenner.”

The woman with reddened knuckles nodded in their direction. Lenny vaulted from his chair and whipped off his cap. He was painfully thin and nearly as tall as Aric.

“I understand you’re from Poland, Herr Buczak. You once worked for the railroad?”

Lenny’s large Adam’s apple bobbed up and down. “Jawohl, Herr Kommandant.”

Aric leaned over the map. “We are here.” He pinned a spot with his finger. “And we need to get there.” He drew an imaginary line east through Poland, to a point in the Ukraine. “The Red Army has retaken a few cities east of the Polish border like Vilna, Bialystock, Brest Litovsk”—his finger paused on a mark south of the Ukrainian city of Lutsk—“and Lemberg, which is where we want to go.”

“Lemberg?” Lenny asked. “You mean Lvov?”

Aric nodded. “The Reich renamed it when it fell into German hands. I’m well-acquainted with that city.” He shot a glance at Helen. “Your job, Herr Buczak, is to figure out how to get us there . . . without alerting Auschwitz.”

Lenny stared at the map, frowning while his Adam’s apple convulsed. He finally reached out with a long finger and ran an imaginary line from Theresienstadt to Prague, then beyond to a city marked as Prerov. “Here—there’s a switchback just north of the city. You can avoid Auschwitz and go east along the rim of the
Nizke Tatry
and cross the Carpathians.” He indicated a daunting east-west stretch of mountains south of Poland. “The train will come out here, at Krosno”—his finger jogged
northeast—“and then to Przemysl. It’s only a few kilometers from the Ukrainian border. Beyond that is Lvov.” He glanced at Aric. “But since we don’t know the train schedules, switching tracks will be dangerous.”

“This entire scheme is riddled with danger, Herr Buczak. Least of which is whether or not we’ll encounter an oncoming train.” Aric eyed the tall young man. “The question is . . . are you up to the task?”

Lenny looked about to swallow a snowball whole before he straightened and said, “I am, Herr Kommandant.”

Aric turned to Helen, still seated by the fire. “You’re certain you want to do this?”

Her answer was a vehement nod as she rocked the sleeping Joseph in her arms.

“Very well,” he said. Then to Grossman, “You and Helen will be our decoy. Escort her in my staff car to this point—Bratislava.” His finger moved back to the Austrian-Czech border. “I’ll prepare a set of orders and we’ll establish the story that the
Gruppenführer
there demands I share my exemplary cook. I doubt any patrol who stops you will question the order.” Aric’s mouth curved upward. “Those soldiers out there are freezing their pants off. They won’t wish to leave their warm stations to detain you any longer than necessary.”

He turned to Lenny. “You’ll have to hide in the trunk of the car. When Sergeant Grossman arrives at the target point near Prerov, you must switch the track to change our course of direction. We should be well on our way to you by then. I’ll use green flares to signal our approach. You’ll wait until our train has passed before you leave.

“Rand, I’ll give you and Helen what funds I have at my disposal. From there, my friend, you must smuggle Herr Buczak into Switzerland.”

“Herr Kommandant, I would much prefer to go home to Krakow.”

“As you wish,” Aric said to the young man. “But I warn you, Poland is still in German hands. You would fare better in neutral territory.”

“Will they be taking the boy, too?” Mrs. Brenner nodded toward the sleeping child in Helen’s arms.

Hadassah’s jaw set. “Nein.”

Aric gave her a tender look. “Joseph stays with us.”

“This plan is crazy, Herr Kommandant,” Grossman said angrily. “Our own soldiers will shoot you down before you reach the border. And if they don’t get you, Ivan will finish you off the instant you step onto Russian soil.”

“I take no more risk than those who ride the train,” Aric said. “And the only alternative for them is death.”

“And yours, Herr Kommandant?”

“The same.” He shrugged. “But I’d rather risk my life and what’s left of my soul with these people than do nothing and prolong a miserable existence.”

Hadassah squeezed his hand, overjoyed by his change of heart. She was also frightened by the realization he would be more likely to die than those he tried to save.

She gripped the Bible she still held, hoping to gain strength. Hours ago she’d put herself into God’s hands; she’d accepted the possibility of her own death at Auschwitz for her people—but not Aric’s.
Please, Lord, don’t
let me lose him. Not now . . .

“Let’s get going. We’ve got a lot to do,” Aric said.

“Like stealing a train?” Hadassah tried for a halfhearted attempt at humor. Despite her fragile renewal of faith, she couldn’t help being afraid.

“Freiheit, my love,” he said, reading her concern. “Freedom for you, for them.” He indicated those leaving the kitchen. “Even for me.” He smiled and nudged her toward the door. “Quickly. Our future waits.”

Outside the infirmary, Hadassah stood beside Aric and burrowed deeper into her coat. She tried not to think of the peril that the next few hours would bring, yet it was impossible to ignore—especially when she heard the distant shouts and observed coils of black smoke rising up from the proximity of the Terezin Café.

“I believe Yaakov is keeping the guards busy, Herr Kommandant.” Morty stood beside Mrs. Brenner, wearing the benign expression of a fox.

“You’re not burning down the whole city?” Hadassah asked.

His thin features took on a fierce look. “Let the Red Cross take a good look at our Paradiesghetto now.”

“Instruct the others to line up here outside the infirmary,” Aric said. “I’ll go inside and talk with these people.”

“I’ll come with you,” Hadassah said. “They might find what you’re going to tell them very hard to believe.”

“It would seem this entire day has been filled with surprises.” He smiled at her, and Hadassah nodded as she took the hand he offered her.

Inside the infirmary, the cloying stench of sickness pulled her back into the harshness of reality. Wooden bunks like those she remembered in the children’s quarters stood three levels high and were packed tightly into rows along either side of the dimly lit room. Each bunk held two people—the sick, the dying, and those too elderly or weak with hunger and exhaustion to care for themselves.

Hadassah leaned against Aric and felt his body tense. She glanced up at his tight-lipped expression and knew that he too was affected by the sight.

———

Aric opened his mouth to speak, but the words he’d intended failed. The silence unnerved him as he and Hadassah reached the center of the room. He looked around at the hundreds of pairs of eyes watching him—many of them rheumy, frightened,
or simply too weak to care—and wondered how he could have been so blinded by duty.

How could a man allow such atrocities to occur, even in war?

“They want to live, the same as
you.”
Hadassah’s words returned to him. Yet most of these people would die from disease and hunger. His own negligence had taken care of that.

He managed to clear his throat, but it was Hadassah who said, “Everyone, please listen. I am Morty Benjamin’s niece.” A murmur of voices rose at her announcement. She held up the manifest. “Your names have been included on these lists, to leave on the next train. But that train will not go to Auschwitz.” She flashed Aric a tremulous smile and said, “Instead, we will seek freedom across the border of the Ukraine, into the safe hands of the Russians.”

The stillness shattered as everyone began speaking at once. Someone called out, “You are the one we have heard about! You have come to save us!”

Confused by their declaration, Aric shot her a curious look.

“Later,” she said, blushing.

He held up a hand for silence. “We must prepare quickly if our plan is to have any chance of success. Right now, Captain Hermann believes I am still under house arrest. He left hours ago for Prague to inform my superiors. He’ll return soon in order to oversee the train’s departure. We must be gone before he gets back.”