Israel Book Shop presents Chapter 92 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 stained piece of paper on the floor of the car, written in shaky, uneven letters:

We had a backup plan to leave Austria.

We didn’t believe it would ever happen.

Their fear was supposed to be much stronger.

Bernard’s newspaper did a big part of the work. And he did all these experiments to figure out how best to influence and control the Jews: We invited them to our parties, allowed them to make weddings in our manor house…all with that goal in mind.

Leo also helped us a lot with controlling the Jews, without him even knowing it.

And I thought that Sol would be a good replacement.

But now it’s all over.

They discovered the tru—

“Looks like this is where his strength ran out.” The police commissioner pointed to the last line and handed the paper over to Hans. “So, does it still look staged to you?”

“No,” his deputy said, glancing out the window of the stately room at the car standing outside. “Not at all. So I understand that he’s dead. Where are the others?”

Dick Zuerstach, the mayor of Salzburg, shook his head. “Another male, about age thirty, was killed. Based on our impressions, he is Bernard Wangel, Josef’s son. We also found two women locked into one of the huts here.”

Locked? Crazy people! Why hadn’t they left when they realized that everything was unraveling? They had too much self-confidence, those Wangels. But he wasn’t going to fall with them, as Katarina had warned him in that final fax. No. He was smarter than them.

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.

Copyright © Israel Bookshop Publications. 

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.”

Israel Book Shop presents Chapter 90 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 few lines written in blue ink on the foundation beam on the back wall of one of the huts:

May 26, 1945

We are a group of Jews who were brought here to establish a military and economic hideout for Wehrmacht soldiers, in the event that the Reich collapses. From here, Wehrmacht brigades will set out for guerilla battles against the Allies if they will capture Austria and the region. Those in charge of us are Major Ludwig Heidrich and Major Klaus Wangel, who were under the command of Lieutenant Samson Plavel. He was killed in battles outside, and now the two Majors are directly in charge of us. We are building huts to live in, and a factory for processing furs, managed by the brothers Max and Leo Sherer. They are also fixing and building the old wall and renovating the old manor house.

There is much work to be done, and it is hard, while the food is meager, but we are being treated fairly. But if we do not remain alive, if we do not survive the war—then please, take revenge for us!

Iszak Zuretzky, hiding in the small space on the sloping ground beneath the hut, ran his finger over the words. He didn’t have the patience to try reading them, and he sufficed with the beginning and the end of the inscription. Somewhere outside, he could still hear Bernard hollering as he slowly made his way behind the huts to find him, and Iszak feared that he was coming closer. “Please, take revenge for us,” he murmured, and clasped his arms around his head.

Was there a chance that Bernard would not find him? Not really. Bernard was in such a furious state that he was not even going to help his father. He just wanted to take revenge on whoever had tripped him—in other words, Iszak. Too bad Iszak didn’t have another long branch there to trip up that cursed Nazi again.

But at least he had held him back from killing Binyamin!

Israel Book Shop presents Chapter 89 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. 

Urgent message faxed to Vienna:

Hans,

Big Samson is going to fall, because its enemies have obtained weapons. If you don’t send help immediately—you will fall together with it!

—Katarina

“One minute, Teresa!” Katarina’s lips were pursed tightly. “Don’t go out yet.”

“Why, so that the lunch that Chani prepared for us shouldn’t get cold? It is rather a shame about it.”

“When did you last check your gun?”

“A few minutes ago.” The young woman studied her weapon. “It’s fine, but it really is a relic. You couldn’t arrange something better for me, huh? I mean, look where we are now!”

“Don’t be cheeky,” Katarina said. “Helena? Are you ready to go out, or are you also dreaming now about a delicious meal?”

Her second daughter turned slowly away from the window. “To go out where? To help Father?”

“What else?”

“I don’t think there’s any point,” she said with a long sigh, but still, she picked up her gun from the table.

“Why not?”

“Because if whoever it was stole Bernard’s good gun, then we have no chance against him.”

“But Bernard has my gun now. And aside for that, the Jew doesn’t know how to shoot,” her mother noted coldly.

“It’s not something you have to know how to do.”

Israel Book Shop presents Chapter 88 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. 

I wanted to ask forgiveness, Binyamin. I saw in the note that you put in the pocket of Mrs. Einhorn’s uniform that you were angry at your sister. I also heard that she and your mother were saying that you think your sister went to Leo Sherer to tell him about your secret group that meets at night, and that you want to do dangerous things.

So you should know that it was me who hid behind a stone and overheard you speaking, and I went to Leo and told him everything. He never liked me because I “don’t do anything productive,” and also because I sometimes walk around at night even though it’s not allowed. I wanted him to know that I am sometimes productive, and it’s davka because I walk around at night when I can’t sleep.

Now everyone is searching for you to punish you. They’re saying it’s because you spoke on a radio to someone—I don’t really understand what that’s about, but I think that it also has to do with what I did wrong.

I don’t know where to find you to give you this note, and so I’m just saying I’m sorry again for now. And if I can help you in any way, I will. Because you should know that I think you’re a real hero, and I hope that I can be a hero like you.

Iszak Zuretzky

The paper, featuring a few yellow stains from egg yolk, was resting next to his plate. Iszak’s mother had prepared his breakfast before she left to her daily job at the dairy. As he sat sipping his tea, his left knee jumped with agitation. He had no appetite.

His head shot up in surprise when he heard noise behind their little hut. Who was screaming like that? It sounded like Hauptmann Josef’s voice. The youth stood up and carefully peeked out the window. Oh my, what was going on? The Nazi was running after a figure in the distance, toward the kennels and the cemetery, and he was waving a pistol. Oh, no, if he looked in the direction of their window, by any chance, would he shoot because he was so angry right now?! Iszak huddled fearfully below the window, and after a moment, when the Nazi’s voice grew more distant, he carefully straightened up.

He then decisively folded the sheet of paper and went outside, hurrying behind the house. He narrowed his gaze; a few people were also hurrying in the direction that the other two had been running, but they stopped some distance away. What was going on there? Had Wangel killed Binyamin? Iszak stood, fearfully, and then sat down on the ground. What would be if he didn’t have a chance to apologize to Binyamin? It would be very sad.

Israel Book Shop presents Chapter 87 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. 

Beretta / 93R

On a stack of rusting rifles in the first box lay a wooden box on a slant, and this was what was etched into it. Binyamin opened the cover and looked at the metal object there. What a shame he’d never had a real opportunity to examine this thing from up close. Maybe he’d had an opportunity, but not a real one.

A few years ago, which now felt like at least a thousand years, he had been a young fourteen-year-old boy who had successfully finished his studies in the preschool, and had also been through his stint working at the kennels. Finally, he’d reached his training period at the factory. The job he’d been assigned was errand boy for Max Sherer, who worked sewing the furs and finishing them. Binyamin had mainly made him tea and searched for his needles that kept falling on the floor. He’d also watched and asked questions, and when Max was in a good mood, he’d allowed the young Binyamin to practice on some damaged bits of fur.

Then, one day, when Max didn’t come and the other worker was busy on the other side of the factory, Binyamin had—of his own accord—sat down at the corner table, picked up a needle, and began to work. Miraculously, his gamble paid off, and on that day, Leo Sherer and Josef Wangel came for an inspection—and were impressed at the outcome of the boy’s efforts, despite his never having had any professional training.

Israel Book Shop presents Chapter 86 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. 

Visiting hours for the public at the shivah house:

Morning between 6:00 and 7:00 am

Afternoon between 2:00 and 3:00 pm

Evening between 8:00 and 8:45 pm

It was only 6:30 in the evening, but Naomi ignored the sign on the door and knocked. It was the first time she’d ever knocked at this door—or had even approached it. It was the first time she was seeing the unusual door handle—an elongated tube made of gold-colored metal that was cool and smooth to the touch—which was very different from the round wooden knobs that the rest of them had on the doors of their little houses.

Did it make the Sherer family happy that this knob adorned the door of their home, or was the point just to indicate that their status was different from that of the other residents of this place? Naomi didn’t have time to think about that, because just then the door opened, and Eva stood there, staring at her. After a moment she said, “Yes?”

“Eva…” Naomi said. “I will come later in the evening to be menachem avel. But right now, I need to speak urgently with Suzy. Is that possible?”

“Yes,” Eva said and walked back into the house.

A moment later, Suzy came to the door. She blinked when she saw Naomi but then recovered quickly. “Is Dror okay?” she asked.

Israel Book Shop presents Chapter 85 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. 

Condolences on the passing of your loved one.

Hauptmann Katarina Wangel

Hauptmann Josef Wangel

Gefreiter Teresa Wangel

Gefreiter Helena Wangel

The note was accompanied by a red artificial flower that was passed from hand to hand among the people who had come to console the mourners.

“Who brought it here?” Yosef Posen asked. “They came themselves?”

“No,” Irwin, Leo’s son-in-law, replied. “Sol went to them after the funeral.”

“What for?” someone asked.

“Technical matters,” Irwin answered.

Israel Book Shop presents Chapter 84 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. 

From a letter that Leo Sherer z”l wrote, published in the Nogot Heyet(Fortified Place), Issue number 10, Year 1978:

From my sickbed, I wish to send my thanks to all those who have sent me letters with warm wishes for a recovery. I will also utilize this distinguished platform to thank Dr. Baruch Grodotzky for his dedicated treatment to save my eye, and to his daughter and assistant, Dr. Annie Katzburg. And of course, to our compassionate benefactors, Katarina and Josef Wangel, who provided the right equipment for my treatment, and in general, over the years, have made sure to provide materials and updated medical information so that our doctors can keep learning and advancing, so that we can continue living here in good health and tranquility.

From the incident that happened to me, I turn to you with a simple request: Be careful about sharp, protruding branches, because such a distressing accident can happen to anyone who is not careful enough.

And another request: Even when I am not around, try to keep up your work productivity, for the sake of the honesty, fairness, and gratitude that we owe to the supervisors here.

Wishing you good health and peace always,

Leo Sherer

Sol, the nephew who stood with his head bowed near the bier, folded the yellowing paper and raised his tear-filled eyes. “I don’t think there could be a better will than this letter, written sixteen years ago, after that accident. Our beloved Leo, may his memory be blessed, wrote with great effort, with one eye bandaged, his instructions to the residents of this place. And if I may note, it is not only to the Wangel family that we owe gratitude, but also to him, the man who headed this blessed factory for some fifty years.”

He took a handkerchief out of his pocket. “And perhaps, indeed, it is worthwhile to look at the two requests that he wrote here as his final wishes: to continue working with as much dedication as possible, for the sake of fairness and honesty, and yes,”—his eyes flitted over the large crowd—“to be careful about sharp and protruding branches. And by that, I mean the lesson that is clear to us all: Don’t let people with delusional ideas sow discord and ruin all that our Leo has built here for decades.”

He lowered his eyes to the mittah. “Dear Leo, we loved you so much. We are anguished that we have to part from you, and we promise that we will do everything to follow in your ways.”

“Speak only for yourself,” Yidel Klein whispered, standing next to his Aryeh. “It looks like indeed, he is planning to do everything to follow in his uncle’s path—and to inherit his position.”

“Sol?” Mottel Kush turned to him. “But Leo has sons-in-law!”

Israel Book Shop presents Chapter 83 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. 

I heard what you said about the one who came. I didn’t want you to get in trouble because of me.

I’ve left, and I’m not going into any other house.

You told me to take whatever I need; I took a bit of food and the rope that was at the bottom of the trunk.

Thank you for everything.

The unsigned note was the only memento left inside the large linen trunk that Chaya Kush had brought with her as a dowry. The trunk was made of high-quality wood, with a broad metal band at its base. For a quarter of a century, it had been faithfully storing the winter blankets and other sundry items. Over the past half a day, it had helped store something else.

Elimelech Kush didn’t need a signature to know who had written the note. “But how did he leave in broad daylight without being seen?” he asked his wife, Chaya.