Page 54 of Library of Forbidden Books

After a millisecond of shock, Derek swept her up in his arms and kissed her face all over. “That’s great! Thank you, God, it’s wonderful!”

The fog in his soul cleared for a moment. The joy of bringing a new life to the world put everything else on hold.

Helene’s second pregnancy was much smoother than the first, though uncertainty about the Austria situation had them on edge. Their southeastern neighbor had endured many of the same upheavals as Germany, including an attempted communist revolution. A nationalist, Fascist administration was in power with the support of Benito Mussolini, who wanted to keep the Nazi German border at bay. The chancellor, Kurt von Schuschnigg, had met with Hitler in February. The Führer had informed von Schuschnigg that Italy now approved the annexation and that it would be best for all involved if Austria put up no resistance. After von Schuschnigg’s failed attempt at a plebiscite, the Nazis entered Austria early on March 12. Hitler himself was among the soldiers, returning to his native soil as a hero. He had made the Pan-Germanic dream to reunite the German-speaking peoples come true.

Berlin had turned out to celebrate the success. When Helene arrived at Kedem that day, she found Lipa frantic with worry.

“The fanatics have been at it again, painting the sides of the building and cracking our windows. That’s their definition of celebration. And we’re hardly making any sales. I’ve made up my mind: I’m going to close the shop. A friend has suggested we move to Tel Aviv, a newer city about seventy kilometers from Jerusalem. Life here in Germany for Jews—it’s just too hard. There’s no room left for us,” he said, hunched over with sadness. His family had been in the region for over five hundred years, long before the Reformation.

Helene nodded. She had known this day would come. “I understand, Lipa. I’ll miss you very much.” Helene had come to appreciate Lipa deeply. Besides Derek and Lena, Lipa was the person Helene could talk with most freely about nearly everything.

“You and your family should come too. The Nazis won’t forget your background or your past,” he said.

Helene knew he was right, but she couldn’t leave her family behind in Germany, and Derek had no idea when he would return from Austria. “I still have things to do here. When I got out of Moringen, I was living in so much fear. I don’t want to die, and I don’t want anything bad to happen to my children,” she said, touching the mound at her stomach, “but my work here isn’t finished yet.”

Lipa gave Helene a brief hug, uncustomary for the man. Yet Helene was like a daughter to him. “I’ll miss you. Thank you for all your help, and do take care!”

That was the last day Helene went to work officially. Maria still insisted on watching Alexander in the morning, so some days Helene would go to Neukölln. Over coffee she, Klaus, and Lena would discuss the Secret Library. But she had reduced her outings significantly while Derek was away. They kept up by a weekly telephone call and wrote letters almost daily.

At the end of July, shortly before Helene was due, Derek secured a leave of absence. He pampered Helene throughout the final days of the pregnancy, reading her favorite books aloud, preparing her favorite foods, and massaging her sore muscles. On the last night of July, their daughter Matilde was born.

To Helene’s great relief, Derek was allowed to spend the rest of the year in Berlin. Every time they ran into the neighbors on the stairs or at the door of the building, Laurelai showered the children with kisses. It made Helene feel so awkward, like each of her neighbor’s touches was a message that Helene did not deserve to be the mother of those angels: a perfect blond Aryan boy and a charming red-headed baby girl.

Throughout 1938, the screws were tightening for Jews in Germany. In April they were required to register all belongings valued at higher than 5,000 reichsmarks. In June, some one thousand Jews had been rounded up and sent to concentration camps alongside common criminals. Furthermore, an executive order required all Jews to add a name to their legal documents: Israel for males and Sara for females. The Nazis were also expelling all foreign-born Jews. That included several friends from the synagogue Helene’s grandfather attended.

On the night of November 9, Helene was home with Alexander and Matilde, but Derek was still at the office. She had just put both children to bed when the doorbell rang. She was startled to see Shlomo Ver, the rabbi from the synagogue near the Neukölln library, together with his wife and teenage son.

“Good evening, Mrs. Nathan,” he said quietly, removing his hat. “I’m so sorry to bother you.”

“No, please, come in.” Helene stood aside and pointed them to the living room. She glanced around the hallway before closing the door.

“Are you aware of what’s happening in the city tonight?” Rabbi Shlomo asked. His wife had a terrified look on her face, and her hands gripped her son’s shoulders tightly.

“No, I haven’t been out all afternoon. My daughter is still young, and it’s so cold already.”

“Of course. Well, the SS and the Hitler Youth have attacked the Jewish neighborhoods. They’ve broken the windows of all the stores and set fire to the synagogues.”

Helene put her hand over her mouth in shock. Such things did not happen on her side of town, where there were very few Jews. “Oh my goodness, why would they do that?”

“In retaliation for the assassination of a member of the German embassy in Paris. A young Jewish man killed him. And now the whole country’s gone mad,” the rabbi answered, fiddling anxiously with his robe. “They’re arresting people, mainly men, and a lot of rabbis and community leaders. I hate to . . . could we . . . we need somewhere to stay tonight.”

“Of course, you can stay in our spare room. It’s not very big, but I think you’ll all fit.”

“Thank you,” the wife said, kissing Helene’s hand.

“Anyone would do the same,” she answered, going to prepare the bed for them.

The doorbell rang again, and they looked at one another in silence.

“Get in the back room,” Helene whispered. Then she went to the door. Through the peephole she could tell it was Lauralei, dressed for going out.

“Hi, neighbor, how are my little darlings?” she asked as soon as Helene opened the door.

“Just fine. They’re already asleep, which is why I can’t ask you to come in.”

“Out here on the landing I heard voices, and I got worried. You know there’s a hunt going on for Jews tonight, and I was worried one of them was hiding at our door.”

“Oh no, I don’t think so. I’ve not seen anything,” Helene said, trying to act casual and making to shut the door.