Nine A.M. – Chapter 1

Israel Book Shop presents Chapter 1 of a new online serial novel, Nine A.M., by Esther Rapaport. Check back for a new chapter every week.  Click here for previous chapters.

Copyright © Israel Bookshop Publications. 

A sign hung on the bulletin board at the entrance to the store:

At the conclusion of the period of mourning for the Cosmos-Fuhrer, all the residents of the camp will gather in his memory on Tuesday, the 4th of May, at seven in the evening. As per the request of Rabbiner Schwartzbrod, two separate gatherings will be held, one in the sewing room for the women and one in the factory hall for the men.

Work will stop at 6:30 p.m. on this day. Vouchers for sugar and white flour will be given to those who deliver appropriate speeches.

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“It’s a good thing they don’t expect me to sit shivah for him!” Only Naomi’s lips moved as she uttered the words, while staring at the retreating back of Hauptmann (Captain) Katarina, who had hung up the sign.

“Shhh….” Elky replied as she scrubbed the counter. A bell rang, and the two girls picked up speed. In five minutes, their daily work hours at the store would come to an end.

“Just don’t tell my grandmother a word about the vouchers for sugar and flour.” Naomi bent over the narrow fridge and arranged the milk bottles. “It will take her back in time, to those dark days in Poland fifty years ago—you know, when the authorities promised a kilogram of sugar or flour as a prize for helping them out….” She fell silent.

“Poor thing.” Elky gazed at the sack of white flour behind her with big eyes. But it was clear to Naomi that she would not be one of those who would speak, regardless of what the reward would be. “How they suffered then… You know, I often think about what a miracle it is that we were born into today’s generation, and not then.”

Her friend nodded and pulled the glass door of the fridge closed.

“But tell me.” Elky suddenly turned to her. “The fact that you mentioned the flour and sugar—does that mean that you do want to speak at the gathering? And you don’t want your grandmother to know where the products are from?”

“Really!” Naomi grabbed the rag from the shelf and turned around. “Is that what you think of me?”

“Come on, what’s so bad about a few words said in memory….,” Elky glanced at the door of the shop, “of that beast, yemach shemo? It’s not an aveirah. I’m sure that if you send a question to Rabbi Schwartzbrod, he will rule that it is definitely permitted. It’s one thing for me—I don’t speak very well. But you—why wouldn’t you want to serve your family some cake made of white flour for Shabbos? You speak so eloquently, with confidence, and you always choose such beautiful words.”

“Enough, Elky!”

“Why ‘enough’? A person has to recognize the things he is good at. I remember the kind of stories you and Eva Sherer used to tell us in kindergarten when we were little. By the way, her father will surely send her to speak.”

“The fact that there are people in the world who don’t have any principles doesn’t mean that… But why am I judging them? Maybe Katarina will explicitly instruct Eva to speak there.”

“If that’s the case, then it would be okay if she speaks in Hitler yemach shemo’s memory?”

“Then it’s already a matter of danger,” Naomi said, and she suddenly burst into tears. “Ugh, I wish I didn’t have oratory skills! Why do I need this? It will only cause me trouble.”

“Naomi!” Elky’s eyes grew round and wide. “Did I understand correctly?”

“What?” The sixteen-year-old’s tears dripped onto the glass surface and she wiped them away with the rag, along with the cleaning spray.

“Is Katarina ordering you to speak at the gathering?”

Naomi didn’t answer.

“Am I right?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Naomi said hollowly. “Okay, Elky? In any case, be happy that you’re better at math and not with words. Rhetorical skills in this case have no benefit; they only bring trouble.”

Oy. If she’s telling you to speak, I can understand why it’s trouble…” Elky dragged the little ladder back to its place. No one shopped at this hour, and they also weren’t allowed to sell anything. They were just cleaning between the morning shift and the afternoon shift, and organizing the store as necessary. “What will you do?”

“I don’t know.”

“But like you said yourself, you wouldn’t dare refuse.”

“Of course I won’t refuse, but that doesn’t mean…” She rubbed her nose. “That I don’t feel absolutely awful about it.”

“But Naomi, this talent also brings you lots of benefits,” Elky said hastily, trying to change the subject. “For example, because you’re so good with words, you can write a book for children one day. Maybe Hauptmann Josef will approve of it. They enjoy that kind of thing.”

“He won’t enjoy the book I really want to write, that’s for sure.”

“So write it secretly.”

“Maybe my grandmother had time for this kind of nonsense when she was a girl and the Reich was not yet in power.” Naomi shook her head. “But we were born in a different generation, Elky.” She wiped her red cheeks with the back of her hand and checked that the doors to the cabinets were locked. All she needed was to be accused of enabling pilfering.

At the second bell, the two girls hurried out and locked the door behind them.

Elky’s mother awaited them at the central kitchen, with her ever-present smile. “How are you, girls?” she asked, not turning her gaze to twenty-year-old Gefreiter (Lance-Corporal) Theresa, who was leaning on the doorpost that separated the back part of the kitchen from the area with the long tables. “Here, on this table you have already two bowls of soup with potato dumplings.”

Theresa turned her head sharply to them, and Elky’s mother hastily added, “And just to remind you that this week, during the mourning period, there is no talking during the meal or work time.”

The two girls nodded wordlessly and went over to the table. It was absolutely silent; even the dishes seemed to be careful not to clink into each other too loudly, because of the presence of the young Gefreiter. Naomi lowered her gaze to her emptying plate. An evening in memory of the Cosmos-Fuhrer! Nice of the Nazis, as Babbe had said, that they hadn’t had to daven for his welfare during the two days that they were told he was dying.

Babbe classified lots of things as being “nice of them.” As someone who had seen the Nazi rise to power in her youth, and who had been in occupied Lodz together with her family, she could appreciate their good life now.

“But the young ones like to complain about it,” she would say if she heard her granddaughter. “What’s the issue, Naomi? The non-Jews are making a laughingstock out of us, that’s true. But Jews have been used to lowering their heads until the wave passes, for thousands of years already. Say a few words at the gathering that will make Hauptmann Katarina happy, and be over with it.”

Naomi finished her soup, made a brachah acharonah, and stood up. If she ran to the old-age home, maybe she’d manage to speak briefly with Babbe before having to return to work.

***

The floor in the large sewing room was already dry and gleaming, and Rechel, who had the weekly cleaning shift, arranged the chairs back in their places at the embroidery machines. In another minute the workers would be back from lunch, and she herself would be able to go and eat before continuing her work.

“Rechel!”

She turned around and stood in silence. “Yes, Hauptmann Katarina,” she replied quietly.

“I want to speak to you.”

Rechel nodded. “Can I get the Hauptmann a drink?”

“No,” the commander replied tersely and took one of the chairs. She gave her sour smile and clasped her fingers together. “It’s about your son.”

“What is with him?” A frozen rock settled in Rechel’s heart.

“I received information that they are not pleased with him of late. You know that Hauptmann Josef Wangel has invested a lot in him. Training, time, raw materials.”

“Certainly. We are very grateful to Hauptmann Wangel for this.”

“Yes, well, yesterday I heard him complaining that Binyamin’s productivity has declined drastically this past week. The boy is not sick and was not absent, yet he produced only three quarters of his regular quota.”

“That’s…very strange.” Rechel’s eyes searched for a place to focus on, and found the edge of the striped collar with the two brown emblems of the Wehrmacht uniform facing her. It was a miracle that they were in these people’s hands, and not in the hands of the SS, yimach shemam, her mother always said.

“‘Very strange’ is not a response that will satisfy those who are in charge of him.”

“That’s right, I know that. And I thank the Hauptmann for conveying this report to me. I’ll speak to Binyamin today.”

“Very good.” Katarina stood up and then walked around the room. She studied the folded lace fabrics resting on the tables and shelves, checked the spools of the thread, and ran a finger over the machines. Finally, she folded her arms and stood with her face to the door. Rechel was taller than her, and she was able to see the workers walking briskly back down the path to the sewing room. They greeted the Hauptmann with a nod and quickly took their places. Not one of them uttered a sound, and that was also why they didn’t begin their shift with their beloved song, as they usually did: “Everything will come to an end sometime.”

Everything will come to an end sometime.

But when?

Rechel hurried out. She heard Katarina’s footsteps following her. “Rechel,” the Wehrmacht commander said from behind her.

She turned around swiftly. “Yes?”

“First of all, you should know that I instructed your Naomi to speak for us at the memorial gathering next week. I’m sure she will respect herself, you, and all of you. And us too, of course. Am I making myself clear?”

Rechel pressed her lips together for a fraction of a second and then released them, forcing herself to smile thinly. “Yes, Hauptmann. She will make every effort for it to find favor in your eyes.”

“And another thing: Needless to say, what I told you beforehand is an absolute secret, yes? They must not know that I warned you.”

“Certainly,” Rechel breathed. “And again, I thank you for—”

“I heard, I heard,” the German woman said, and strode past her. “Your gratitude will be shown by your efficient and energetic work. That’s the only reason you are living here.”

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