You Are My Sunshine: A Novel Of The Holocaust (All My Love Detrick Companion Novel) (41 page)

“I thank you for that.” Manfred smiled. “I am grateful for all
that you’ve done for me Dr. Goebbels.”

“I know you are. I know you have always been.”
Goebbels patted Manfred’s shoulder. “Now, don’t look so bleak. I am saddened too. None of us wants to see Germany fall. And of course, who would want to take on a Jewish appearance. However, we must carry on. We must make plans just in case, we should be left without any choice but to act and act quickly.  I am going to set up an appointment for you with a qualified surgeon his name is Dr. Schmidt. Then either he or I will send you further instructions, should it become necessary to put this plan be put into action.”

“And you
, Dr. Goebbels? What will you do?” Manfred asked genuinely concerned.

“I am going to wait until the very last minute. Because
of our close friendship, Hitler has asked me to bring my family and join him here at the bunker. I suppose he will have arranged everything. I will follow his plan from there. I don’t know for sure, but I am assuming we will be the last to be surgically altered. Then I suppose we will meet up with the rest of you in South America.”

“South America?  Where do you know?”

“I don’t know for sure. Adolf has had good reception from Argentina, perhaps we will go there?”

“This is a lot to absorb. I will have to tell my wife.”

“Hmmm, I don’t know Manfred. Your wife, her father, Can she be trusted?”


Yes, she has no contact with anyone outside of me and the child anymore. Her mother is dead and she has no one else.”

Goebbels
nodded his head. “Don’t tell her quite yet. I will let you know when the time is right. Wait until I contact you for further instructions.”

“I’ll wait until I receive clearance from you to inform her
of everything,” Manfred said.

“Yes,
make sure that you do that.”

Chapter
62

 

When the cold became unbearable, the entire group began sleeping packed together with all of the blankets covering them to stay warm. Isaac slept beside Zofia. She’d come to rely on the warmth of his body next to hers although there had been no sexual advances.

Of
ten the entire group would lie on the frozen ground in the dark of night and reminisce about things they’d done before the Nazi take over. Shlomie once told a story about how he’d won a science fair and traveled with a group of ten-year-old children across Germany to explain his project to other schoolchildren.  Sarah described how excited she was as her mother had curled her hair for her first dance. She went on to recapture the thrill she’d felt as she put on her new lavender dress this was the first time she would dance with a boy. Each of them told a story. One night as Sarah lay on the other side of Isaac she cleared her throat.

“Isaac, tell us about your mother’s bakery.”

“Ahhh… Mama’s bakery,” Isaac said with a sigh “The best bakery in town, by far.  My mama could twist a Challah in seconds. And she baked the most wonderful Hamantaschen.”

“I remember” Z
ofia said, “I used to go to pick up bread and cakes for my mother. Your mother was a wonderful baker.”

“She was. I miss her. I miss my father too.” Isaac said as he reached over
to find Zofia’s hand. Once he found it, he took it into his own and squeezed gently. “You remember my parents.”

“Oh yes, Isaac
, how could I forget. I even remember you. You were the little blond boy with the round face and the big smile, always eating bread with butter.” She laughed. “I remember so many people from the old neighborhood. I often wonder what has become of them.”

“Do you think we will find anyone
we knew still alive after the war?” Shlomie asked.

“I don’t know” Sarah said. “I am praying everyday for my family.”

“We should not dwell on this stuff from the past,” Rivka said from across the room. “Talking about the bakery and family only makes us sad. Maybe we should sing.”

“That’s an idea.” Z
ofia said

First they sang familiar Yiddish folk tunes

“Does anyone know any American music?”Zofia asked

“I do.”
Shlomie said. “I love it. I used to listen to it as often as I was able to. I loved the big bands”


This song is not swing, it’s American folk music. Do you happen to know the song, “You are my sunshine?”

“I do.
I know it in English.”

“Yes me too. I learned it a long time ago
when I was still in school.”

Shlomie
and Zofia began to sing. “You are my sunshine, my only sunshine, you make me happy, when skies are gray…” their voices the only sound penetrating the frozen darkness.

They sang it
through once, then again. The second time the entire group joined in with the words they were able to recall.

“You are my sunshine…” Z
ofia remembered Katja. She’d called her sunshine and secretly sang that song to her at night when she put her to bed.

“You make me happy when skies are gray.” My Eidel, my
Katja, Fruma, Gitel, Dovid, Mama. Zofia thought, “Please don’t take my sunshine away.

She heard Isaac’s deep voice struggling to remember the words. His hand still clasped Z
ofia’s and she squeezed a little tighter.

Little by
little, the weather began to break. The ice cycles on the trees melted and tiny sprouts of green pushed their way up through the thawing ground. Even though it was still chilly, Zofia insisted on going to the stream and bathing. The water had just defrosted and it shocked her naked body. But she took the soap Isaac had given her and scrubbed her skin and hair as quickly as she could. Then she dried herself with a blanket, dressed and returned to the cabin.

“You smell like spring time, itself.”
Shlomie said.

“Why thank you. It feels wonderful to be clean.”

“Yes, I am sure it does. I am going to the pond as soon as it gets a little warmer. Getting into the water in this weather is not for the faint of heart.” He laughed.

“Well, I am going today.” Isaac said.

Zofia smiled at him

“Me too,
” Sarah said and she glanced over at Isaac.

“Come for a walk with me, Z
ofia.” Isaac said.

“I’d like that.”

The birds had begun to return to the forest and their songs filled the afternoon as the sun filtered golden through the trees.

“Did you know that back before all this
Nazi stuff began, I had a crush on you?”

“Really Isaac, I never knew.”

“You never paid much attention to me. But I remember watching you and your friend walk to school and thinking how pretty you were.”

She laughed. “How pretty I was?”

“Yes and how pretty you still are.”

She blushed. “It’s funny, we’ve slept beside each other for months yet, when I look into your eyes, here and now in the light
of the day, I am shy.”

“Me too
,” He said. “Me too, I cannot court you the way that I would like to. Our lives don’t permit it. If I could, I would ask you to dinner, maybe dancing as well, then to meet my family. But as it stands I have no family left, and the dinner that we share, well, I must admit, it isn’t quite the way that I would like it to be with wine and soft music. Instead, I am sorry to say that all I can offer you is wild game and fish, and that we share with the entire group. Still and all, I am incredibly attracted to you.”

“Isaac. I don’t know what to say.”

“You have never been with a man?”

“If I told you that I would be lying. Although I would like to lie to you
, to tell you that I am a virgin. I guess the truth is I was a free spirit once.”

“I understand.”

“There were two men that I chose to take as lovers and then there was one I did not choose.”

“You were raped?”

“I was forced by the Arbeitsführer when I was in Treblinka.”

“I’m sorry. I wish I could kill him with my bare hands.”

She shrugged. “I had it bad; many others had it far worse. At least I am still alive.”

He said nothing, but in his
silence, she knew he felt helpless.


I have not told anyone else this since I left the Warsaw Ghetto, but I must tell you.”

“Tell me what?”

“Isaac,” She sighed and turned to face him “I have a child, a daughter. She is living with a non-Jewish family. Before the invasion began the woman who took her for me was my friend. I had someone for the black market contact her while we were in the Ghetto.  She agreed to take Eidel into her home and pretend Eidel was her child.   There was so much disease in the Ghetto I was afraid for my daughter. So, I sent her away.”

He smiled at her
and touched her face smoothing the lines of pain.

“Men want a woman who is pure. I am not pure. I met Eidel’s father when I was young and
not very smart. I thought I was in love, but it turned out that I was just a fool. Then later when I was living in the Ghetto, I met a boy. He was kind and gentle and although I was not in love with him, I learned to care for him deeply. We were both so lonely and so afraid of what the future might hold that we grasped on to each other. I believe he was in love with me.”

“You will search for him when the war is over?”

“He’s dead. I was the cause of it. I will blame myself forever. ” Her voice choked in her throat.

“Do you want to tell me what happened?”

“If you want to know.”

“I want to know everything about you.”

And so she told him about Koppel and Dovid, about Fruma and Gitel, and most of all about Eidel.

“So you see, I am not pure
, not virginal and probably not worthy of your affection.”

“I don’t want you to be pure. I just want you
, just who you are. That’s enough for me.”

He put his arms around her. She allowed herself t
o fall into his embrace, to lose herself and her memories for a moment.  His lips brushed hers. They were face to face their eyes locked.

“I’ve never done this before.
I’ve never made love to anyone.” Isaac said.

She nodded.

He took her face in his hands and gently pressed his lips to hers. Tears came to her eyes and she felt them fall upon her cheeks.

“I think I am in love with you, Z
ofia.”

She had
never felt this way before, not with Dovid, not with Don Taylor, not ever. Zofia wanted to protect Isaac like a mother, to lay with him like a lover, and to stand at his side no matter what they might face in the future.

“I think I am in love with you too.” She whispered.

He took his shirt off and laid it down on the ground then he sat and reached for her hand pulling her down beside him, laying her head gently on his shirt. Zofia sighed trembling. After what she’d endured with the Arbeitsführer, she was afraid she’d lost all sensations in her body. For so long she’d forced the death of any feeling. She was wrong. Her body tingled and sang to the music that Isaac’s body played. The warmth of skin against skin made her tremble and realize the need she’d suppressed for so long.

When it was
over, he held her tightly in his arms, kissing the top of her head. She took a deep breath and marveled. How strange things were. Zofia had feared that after the Arbeitsführer she would never be able to enjoy the touch of a man again. After all, of those years putting up with his repulsive groping, all the while forcing her mind to kill any sensations her body might be required to tolerate, she was sure that somewhere along the line her ability to share love had died too. And then, a miracle happened. Zofia was blessed, she’d found true love. Every cell in her body responded, dancing with heightened ecstasy, tingling, and embracing the pleasure.

“How can I be so happy when I should be
miserable?” He laughed holding her gently in his strong arms.

She laughed too. “I think love is like that. It makes you happy no matter what else is going on around you. You just can’t help but smile.”

“I can’t help but smile.” He repeated. “You are everything I want in this world.”

“And I am right here. And I will be right here.”

“Someday I will buy you a big house and the three of us, you, and Eidel and I will have a wonderful future.”

“Do you think you could learn to love a child that was not your own
?”

“She is yours and you are mine. That makes her mine too. I’ll adopt her if you will allow me to.
And I will love her as if she came from my loins.” Isaac said.

She smiled, and
she thought of Katja. She hated the Nazi’s but she could never bring herself to blame the child. The poor child who’d been bred by the SS to be what they thought to be ideal had fooled them all becoming a beautiful and loving little girl in spite of their efforts. Zofia believed that Christa was responsible for Katja’s sweet nature. Although, Zofia knew nothing of Katja’s birth mother, the child had grown to be just like her adopted mother.

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