Israel Book Shop presents Chapter 91 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.
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Shabbos dress – Shabbos tichel – kettle – gas burner – prescription cream – laundry detergent
Naomi raised her eyes from her list when Aryeh walked into the house. “Do you think we should take more than one box of laundry detergent with us?” she asked practically. “And what will be with my basin? They said it’s not a good idea to take too much luggage.”
“Don’t take the basin,” he said, and sat down next to the large quilt cover into which Naomi was putting everything. “I’m sure we will manage. Maybe there are public washing machines there, where you can pay and use them.”
She nodded, wondering about the unknown “there.” “But I don’t want to get stuck without detergent, and the store is for sure closed. Tell me, what’s with your finger?”
“That scrape? It’s getting better, slowly. Baruch Hashem.”
“Because the cream that Dr. Katzburg gave you is almost finished. I think I should go and ask her for a bit more. After all, she won’t be schlepping all the medical equipment along, right?”
“Makes sense.”
“So I’ll leave now.” She smiled. “I can’t believe it’s a quarter to ten at night, and I’m just going out now!”
“Be careful on the way,” he said. “It’s the beginning of the month, and it’s very dark outside.”
She opened the door—and found herself facing her brother.
“Binyamin!” she exclaimed, and then looked down at the ground. Somehow, in the whole uproar and the excitement that had overtaken them all, she and Binyamin hadn’t yet had a chance to speak face to face.
Aryeh appeared at her side. “How are you, Binyamin? What a chashuve guest! The most important person in the camp tonight!”
“The person who is most guilty of being choshed b’kesheirim, suspecting someone who is innocent,” Binyamin said. Behind him, lights twinkled in the distance, as people searched every inch of the grounds to make sure that there was no danger to anyone anymore. “I’m sorry, Naomi. Now I know for sure that it was not you who told on me. I hope you can forgive me.”
“I don’t know how you could have ever thought it was me,” she said. And despite the fact that in all the scenarios she had envisioned, since he had falsely accused her, she cried when she said this sentence, now she said it lightly. “Anyway, tell me, what’s with the Wangels? Where is Helena?”
“She still hasn’t been found. They’ve searched the entire estate, including the roof.” He smiled for a moment. “They finished searching every corner of the camp, and so far, nothing. Either she left before everything started, or she ran away afterward, because one of their two cars isn’t here.”
“And what about the other Wangels?” Aryeh asked.
“Katarina and Teresa are locked into Mottel Kush’s house. We need to think about where to move them, because Mottel and his wife want to go in to pack their things before we leave tomorrow. Although I don’t know how much is left for them to take, because we heard a lot of violent banging and smashing from inside. And Bernard is dead, as you know.”
“And Josef?”
“He doesn’t let anyone come even close to treat him. Not that I know why anyone would want to. He barely dragged himself to the courtyard of the manor house, and when he wasn’t allowed to enter the house, he got into his car. They immediately let the air out of his tires so he couldn’t just crash through the gate, and now he’s sitting there in the car, with Hanter’s men guarding him.”
“But what if he has a weapon?” Aryeh queried.
“He doesn’t. They searched him thoroughly beforehand; he doesn’t even have the energy to resist, because he’s lost tons of blood. If you ask me, he’s dying a slow death.”
“What about you, Binyamin? Have you managed to eat something and to get some rest?”
“I ate, yes, Mama fed me enough to make up for the last few days—believe me! But I asked her to let me skip the rest for now. We’ll rest when we get out of here. I can’t waste these last few hours.”
“As if it was so pleasant for you here,” Naomi ribbed as she stepped outside.
“No, but there are things that I have to do before we leave. Like take my work tools, for example.”
“Your work tools?”
“What are we going to do in the outside world, Naomi?” he asked his sister somberly. “Hanter claims that there are still Nazi sympathizers in the world, and this place, which is going to become public very soon, might draw them. So tomorrow morning, we are going to be picked up and taken away from here, and the goodhearted Hanters are arranging a temporary place for us to stay. But what comes after that? Where will we go? What will we do? Where are we going to live? What will we eat?”
***
Naomi headed toward the clinic. It was surreal to see so many people out on the paths at this late hour. Most of the windows were still closed tightly—out of habit—but the doors were open, and people were going in and out.
She was nearing the clinic, wondering about Dr. Katzburg’s cream that wasn’t really healing Aryeh’s deep cut, and about some other, more major ailments which the kind doctor did not have any magic solutions for. She suddenly thought about the fact that they’d be going out into the world, where medicine was much more advanced. With no offense to the knowledge of their dedicated doctor, maybe real doctors, who had gone to medical school and learned from other real doctors, would have solutions to those ailments?
She turned her head at the sound of voices coming from Elky Kush’s house. There was a huddle of people there, and Naomi felt an urge to go and see what was happening to Katarina and Teresa.
The door to the little house was open. The shouting was actually Elky’s, though Naomi couldn’t understand a word she was saying, especially as in the background, there was the noise of manic laughter. It was an inhuman sound. Naomi ignored the people standing outside and walked inside.
The house was a horror scene. Everything was broken, with shattered dishes and torn clothing thrown all over the house, together with pieces of wood that were still identifiable as having been part of a table, bed, or chair. Katarina was cackling uncontrollably, and Teresa was sitting on the floor near the wall, her lips pressed tightly together. Two people were standing silently across from them, guarding the Nazis.
Where was Elky? Naomi heard her shrill voice from the other side of the wall, and the calm, measured tones of what sounded like Chaya, her mother. Naomi carefully approached and saw that Elky was still screaming.
“What did they do here?! What did they do?! Months of work! Do you know how much I worked for these vouchers?! It’s almost a third of my savings!”
On the floor, feathers that had once been part of the Kush couple’s quilts floated amidst the destruction, along with scraps of familiar papers—precious ones. Naomi picked up one of them, half of a fifty-mark voucher.
“Whatever wasn’t in my closet was torn up and destroyed! Why did I leave these vouchers under the mattress?! Why?!”
“She’s crying!!” Katarina howled with laughter. “She’s crying about the vouchers! Brainless Jewess!!”
In the face of Katarina’s dreadful jeering, it suddenly became stunningly clear to Naomi that Katarina had picked up on something very significant, something that the others had not yet realized.
“Be quiet already, Katarina!” she heard herself shouting. “Do you hear me? Stop it now!”
The Nazi stared at her with red eyes and suddenly fell silent.
“Elky.” Chaya was speaking softly. “Elky, calm down. It doesn’t matter now. Nothing is important anymore, because we’re going free, baruch Hashem.”
“What doesn’t matter?” Elky sobbed hysterically, not noticing Naomi standing at the side. “Do you know how much I worked for each of these vouchers? I worked my heart out! And what do we have left now? A few thousand marks, not more!”
“But Elky, these vouchers were produced by the Wangels,” her mother-in-law, who had just walked in, said, as she cautiously approached her daughter-in-law. Naomi saw from the expression in her eyes that she had also figured it out.
“So what?”
“So it would be wise for you to find other things to pack and take along, because these vouchers—even the ones that weren’t ripped up—have no real value. You will have nothing to do with them once we leave this place!”
Elky didn’t answer. She just gazed at the shredded vouchers floating around in the wind outside. One of the people standing there bent down for a moment, but then said something and stood back up.
No one else made the effort to bend down and pick up any more vouchers.
***
The deputy police commissioner’s car groaned as it drove uphill. “It’s a nightmare with this car,” he muttered to the two friends sitting quietly in the back seat. “It’s not exactly made for the roads of the northern Alps. And the night lighting in these remote areas…”
The radio crackled in its cradle, and Hans pressed the button. If the police commissioner himself was looking for him now, that meant something was awry. The big question was whether it had to do with the sudden radio silence from the Wangels or not. For many years already, every time a tense moment came up, he asked himself a variation of this question.
“Kafnika?”
“Yes.”
“Are you in the office?”
“Not quite.”
“Where are you?”
“On a personal outing. Why?”
“Because I need you urgently.” The commissioner’s voice did not bode well. “Do we have anything about Josef Wangel, from the fur factory, in our files? There shouldn’t be, right?”
“Nothing that I know of.” The car suddenly swerved to the side of the road, as Hans and his friends exchanged nervous glances.
“They have production facilities in the Dachstein region, do you know about that? We just got a message from the Salzburg police about a very strange story, which sounds delusional. They got there tonight after a call and found a huge group of Jews who apparently have been held there since World War Two! Does that not sound crazy to you?!”
“One hundred percent crazy. Someone is pulling a fast one on you.” Hans tried to keep his breaths steady and hoped that his superior couldn’t hear his forced casualness. “They must be professional actors.”
“But what is their goal?”
“Do I know? Maybe they’re Jews who felt like their wretched state in the world hasn’t gotten enough attention lately, so they’re trying to reawaken the world’s sympathy? Or is it a professional movie, and the producers wanted the police’s shock to appear natural, so they filmed it all without their knowledge?”
“Are the dead people part of the production?”
“Dead people?!”
“Yes. I need you there, Hans. Will you join me in my helicopter?”
“I’m really not in the Vienna region now. Give me an exact location, and I’ll make my way over there myself.”
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