Israel Book Shop presents Chapter 20 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.
Mir zehnen vi feigelach frei
Mir zehnen vi blumelech in feld
Mir zenen chaveiros getreye
Mir kinder fun Yaakov’s getzelt
We are like flying birds;
We are like flowers in the fields.
We are loyal friends
Of all the girls in this Bais Yaakov…
(Yiddish: Eliezer Schindler z”l)
Katy, the assistant, clapped her hands excitedly when the girls finished singing. “Beautiful!” she cried. “An outing with the sun, wind, and songs… What could be better? I don’t even understand the Yiddish words, but oh, it’s still all so beautiful, Naomi!”
“That’s right.” Naomi smiled at Katy and her young students and put the song sheet into the small briefcase that Aunt Chani, her future mother-in-law, had given her. “Girls, you really sang our theme song beautifully. Now you can go and play in the fields, but don’t go too far, and don’t get anywhere near the factory!”
“Can we go see the rabbits?” Zuska Neiman jumped up and down. “I love feeding them!”
Naomi shook her head. “It’s not a good idea. The older children are there now.”
“And besides, it’s so sad to see them,” ten-year-old Surele chimed in. “Because in another few days or weeks, they’ll be killing them so they can make coats and all kinds of other things from their fur.”
“But Hashem gave the animals to people, to us!” Zuska argued. “So that we can use them. That’s why He created animals!”
“What is ‘us’?” Surele asked. “It’s the Germans who use them; it’s not even us.”
“But without the fur factory…” Zuska looked at the stone building that rose up on the hillside to their right, rectangular and ominous. “Without the fur factory, our families wouldn’t have what to do here. And if we wouldn’t have what to do here, then…”
“Don’t talk about it!” Surele clapped her hands over her ears. “Enough!”
“Fine. But the rabbits are cute,” Zuska insisted.
Naomi looked at Zuska, one of the Reform girls who, surprisingly, had registered for her group. She had assumed that Zuska’s parents would send her to the group taught by Rivku Orenchik, Mila’s cousin, who had taken over after Mila had left the preschool.
“Jews are compassionate,” Naomi explained quietly. “It’s true that we are allowed to use animal fur, but we must not make the animals suffer unnecessarily. On the other hand, the real compassion is better kept for the people around us, to treat them nicely and to be friendly…to be ‘loyal friends,’ like in the song.”
“Like me and Surele?” her student asked. “Fine. So we won’t go down to the hutches. We’ll just stay here, in the area.”
“Excellent.” Naomi flashed her a smile and sat down on the nearest rock. After a moment, though, she jumped up; she’d noticed a figure in uniform coming up the path and nearing the area where they were having their outing. What was Teresa looking for here?
The figure of the young German grew closer and larger, until she reached the rock on which Naomi had been sitting.
“You have a cute group here,” Teresa remarked as she sat down on the rock with a sigh. “Ugh, what a hill.”
“Indeed, Gefreiter,” Naomi whispered.
“Did I take your place?”
Naomi blinked. “No, it’s fine.”
“I saw how you got up when I came closer. Sit down, that wasn’t nice of me.” She stood up. She stood up!
Naomi shook her head. “No, no, the Gefreiter can sit, it’s fine. I prefer to stand when the children are wandering around, so I can keep track of them better.”
“What a devoted teacher!” Teresa complimented her with a smile, and sat back down.
“She’s both a kindergarten teacher and a schoolteacher!” Katy interjected from the side. “Heh heh, that’s amazing, isn’t it?”
Teresa glanced at her for a moment, murmured something in agreement, and then turned her gaze back to Naomi. “I haven’t told you congratulations yet,” she remarked suddenly, “and you got engaged a long time ago—last year!”
“Thank you.” Naomi smiled politely. “Thanks very much.”
“When did you get engaged?”
“Eleven months ago.”
“And when is the wedding?”
“In ten days.”
“Wow, so it’s really close! And you are so young, just seventeen! I am not even thinking about marriage yet.” She scanned the area, as if searching for something else to talk about, and Naomi suddenly sensed something foul in the air.
Never had any of the young German women tried to speak to her in friendly conversation. And in the eleven months that had passed since her engagement, they had met a number of times, and Teresa had never made the effort to wish her “congratulations” at any time. What was going on now? Some kind of undercover investigation into why Naomi didn’t want to celebrate her wedding at the manor house?
Her mother had already explained to Katarina that Naomi and her chassan were the modest, quiet type, and they preferred a small wedding. When the Hauptmann had informed her that because of the risk of a wedding outside if it was not on the estate, only twenty people would be allowed to attend, Mamme had somberly affirmed that the young couple would be fine with that.
Was it possible that the powers-that-be in the estate didn’t believe the story and had sent Teresa to nose around and find out the real reason for their refusal?
The truth was, there was no other clear reason. As she’d told Binyamin lightly the night before, “All those who participated in Elky’s wedding are still alive, you know.”
“They should stay alive and well until one hundred and twenty,” he’d replied heavily.
“Amen. But does that mean you made a mistake? And that I should change my decision?”
“No. I’m happy nothing happened to them, baruch Hashem, but it still doesn’t say that the reason the Germans made their offer makes sense. Because it doesn’t, Naomi. And it’s always worth being cautious. You can never know when the truth will suddenly come to light, and then you’ll be happy that you listened to me.”
“And if we find out that you did end up making a mistake with this whole thing?”
“Then I apologize already now. You can change your mind about the wedding’s venue, of course, if you want to.”
She didn’t want to.
And now Teresa was coming here and trying, very artificially, to open a conversation with her. If Naomi wouldn’t have been so nervous, she would be snickering with scorn at Teresa’s effort.
“So you’re getting married in ten days,” she was saying. “And you don’t want the hall we offered.”
Here it was coming. “No, Gefreiter. I prefer a smaller, simple wedding.”
“Will you allow me to attend it? After seeing one Jewish wedding up close, I’m curious to see another one.”
“Sure,” Naomi said hastily, her brain pounding painfully. “The Gefreiter is invited to wherever she’d like to come.”
“Excellent. And don’t count me among the twenty people; it’s fine, I’m allowed to join beyond the quota.” She smiled coolly, and Naomi’s brain nearly froze. She didn’t know what to think, and certainly not what to say. With herculean effort, she smiled at Teresa, who returned a polite smile and rose from the large rock.
***
With a polite Viennese smile, the receptionist welcomed Dena. “Mr. Hanter is in the office, in an important meeting,” she said.
“But we made up for…” Dena began, and then regretted saying anything. Her appointment at the dentist was in over an hour. The fact that she was terrified of having dental treatment in a strange clinic was not the receptionist’s fault.
“I believe the meeting will be over in a few minutes,” the young woman said. She looked to be about Dena’s age. “It really has been going on longer than planned. You can take a seat in the meantime, if you want. There’s a little kitchenette on the right over there, if you’d like to make yourself a hot drink.”
“No thanks,” Dena murmured. She sat down on one of the dark red chairs lined up near the wall. This was the first time she was visiting the offices. What was this color? Were they trying to match the chairs to the paprika, their flagship spice?
She sat for a few minutes, looking at the walls, the floor, the ceiling with its moldings and designs. The receptionist was conducting some lively phone calls, though Dena didn’t understand even half of what she was saying. Finally, bored, she got up and went to the kitchenette. Not that she needed a cup of coffee or tea, but it would give her something to do.
She took a cup, put in a teaspoon of instant tea and a bit of sugar, and was about to pour in the boiling water when she heard a throat clearing behind her.
“Tell me,” the receptionist said to her in Yiddish, “do you understand anything about graphics?”
“Me?” Dena laughed sheepishly. “No, not exactly.”
“But I’m sure you know your colors and when one color looks good on something or not.”
Oh, she’d learned that skill in Morah Ruchie’s kindergarten class. “Yes, yes,” she said, putting down the Styrofoam cup on the counter.
“I don’t want to disturb you while you have your drink, but if you don’t mind, can you please come to my desk for a minute? You know that we’re redoing our packaging, right?”
Had Bentzy mentioned something about that? “Yes, yes.” I must sound like a total fool.
“In my opinion, the graphic designer didn’t understand what they want, and she made something completely—” The receptionist shook her head. “We’re arguing a lot over a certain point. Do you mind coming over and seeing who you think is right? They,” she pointed with her chin toward the inner room, “cannot be disturbed right now.” She didn’t wait for an answer, leaving the doorway to the kitchenette and striding back to her desk. Dena followed obediently.
“Here.” She picked up a glossy colored paper from the printer. “What do you say? Aren’t the orange and the green just dreadful?”
“It’s…” Dena studied it. “It’s interesting.” She fished for something else to say. “Maybe the green is a bit too strong.”
“Strong? It’s faded! But my question is if it has any connection to the other shades she planted here!”
“Maybe,” Dena said apologetically. “Like I said, I don’t really get these things.” She studied the shape of the letters, their position on the page, without understanding a word of what the paper said.
“Well, it’s alright if you don’t understand graphic design,” the receptionist said, looking less official and cold than she had seemed twenty minutes earlier. “Your mother-in-law adores you anyway, based on what I’ve heard on her visits here…”
“But something here is very strange!” Dena was too focused to notice the compliment she had just gotten. She handed the glossy page back to the secretary. “Very strange. Didn’t you notice this?”
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