Mila 18 - Leon Uris [153]
From the third factory we hear something that is a ray of hope, however faint. It is the uniform factory. Although the Germans claim to be at the gates of Moscow, we sense their first great defeat of the war. Nearly a hundred thousand bloody uniforms have arrived from the eastern front. In the factory the slave laborers clean, patch, and weave them and make them ready for reissue in Germany.
A hundred thousand German casualties? Good news.
ALEXANDER BRANDEL
Chapter Four
RACHAEL RACED THROUGH RAPID passages of Chopin’s Second Concerto in preparation for a concert with what was left of the Ghetto Symphony Orchestra to be held in Franz Koenig’s uniform factory.
She turned to the slow hit of the andante, and her mind strayed from her work. Three more members of the orchestra had died. There were only forty musicians left and they were listless. A spasm of tension gripped her stomach. Wolf had been gone five days this time. It was the third time in a month that Andrei had sent him to the Aryan side. They said they wouldn’t, but they needed Wolf, even at the risk. What were they to do? She longed to marry him, but her father would be violently opposed. Wolf’s father had once been an active Zionist and many people knew about Wolf’s work. Poppa would allow nothing to besmirch his position on the Civil Authority. He was completely unreasonable about it.
In the bedroom, Stephan lay on his stomach studying the Haftorah, a reading from the Prophets, in preparation for the coming bar mitzvah. He always remembered the sound of music from his mother and sister. It had a magic quality of transcending him beyond all harm and all ugliness. Rachael stumbled on a passage, then fingered her way through the next bars.
Stephan automatically stopped reading and rolled off the bed and walked to the window. They had just moved to this new place in the big ghetto. He had to share a bedroom with Rachael, and it was a pretty run-down place but far better than most people had. Just across the street stood the old post office building where the Civil Authority had been housed since the Germans closed the place on Grzybowska Street. His father worked in there. In front of the large square, columned structure stood the only tree and plot of grass in the ghetto. It felt cool and soft to roll in.
The music stopped.
Stephan walked back to his bed and flopped on his belly, waiting for Rachael to begin playing again so he could resume his studies.
He had always had an unspoken communication with his sister. They wanted to talk to each other now. She sat on the edge of his bed and mussed his hair. He rebelled slightly.
“How can you read that chicken scratch?” she said, referring to the Hebrew text.
“It’s no worse than the chicken scratch you read at the piano.” Stephan closed the book, “I wish Wolf would get back and help me with my lessons. Rabbi Solomon—well, we have to be perfect. He’s tough.”
“Stephan?”
“Yes?”
“Wolf told me you tried to get him and Uncle Andrei to let you distribute the underground paper.”
The boy did not answer.
“Is it true?”
“I guess so.”
“Does Momma know?”
“No.”
“Don’t you think you’d better tell her?”
He spun off the bed, away from her inquiries.
“What would we do if anything happened to you?”
“Don’t you understand, Rachael?”
“With Wolf and Uncle Andrei doing their work, I can’t lose all of you.”
“If only Poppa—” Stephan stopped short. “Nothing.”
“You can’t make up for him, Stephan.”
“I’m so ashamed. For a long time I tried to believe what he was telling me.”
“Don’t be too hard on Poppa. No one knows how much he has suffered. You must be kind.”
“How can you say that? If it weren’t for Poppa you and Wolf could marry.”
“He’s still your father, Stephan, and I know that Rabbi Solomon would be the first to tell you to honor him, always.”
“Rachael ... Momma and Poppa don’t love each other any more, do they?”
“It’s only because of the times, Stephan.”
“That’s all right. You don’t have to try to explain.”
She changed the subject quickly.