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She had let the chickens out for a scratch, and now she shooed them away as she led me into the far corner of her courtyard. There, she gestured for me to lean close.
“Mayim and her parents have moved in with Levi’s brother. It’s a little cramped, but they are getting by and no longer have to worry about rent. She knows you’re well and expecting again.”
I pulled away in shock.
“But...how do you know I’m pregnant...?”
“You’ve been turning green when I offer you coffee. The same thing happened with your first two babies. I know you’re under a lot of stress, Sofie, but you do need to look after yourself. You’re not showing yet, although I daresay that’s because you’ve lost so much weight these months since Jürgen’s... accident.”
“How did you see Mayim?”
“I didn’t. I won’t. I’m too close to you, and we don’t know if they are watching me. But...the one advantage to being a little old lady is that no one expects you to cause trouble, so some of my friends have been taking advantage.”
“The Nussbaums wouldn’t go to Poland?”
“It’s going to be very expensive to get Levi an exit visa now,” Adele said gravely. The Reich Citizenship Law and the Law for the Protection of German Blood and German Honor had been enacted. The first stripped Jews of their German citizenship, leaving them subjects of the Reich rather than citizens. Levi was stateless.
Suddenly, Adele’s eyes twinkled, and she leaned even closer and whispered, “It’s going to be expensive, Sofie, but we’re trying to find a way.”
“The money you’ve borrowed!” I whispered in shock. She winked at me, then touched a finger to her lips.
“Every single Reichsmark filters through to the Nussbaums via my friends.”
I threw my arms around her and whispered in her ear, “Aunt Adele, I don’t know how to thank you.”
“Look after yourself and your family,” she whispered back. “Thatis how you thank me.”
At the park, we were joined by Lydia and Karl and their little tribe—Hans, Horst and Ernst, their toddler Werner and new baby Gertrude, with Petra, their terrifyingly stern nanny. While Petra pushed the stroller to soothe Gertrude to sleep, Karl and I sat with Jürgen and Lydia at a picnic table. The older children chased one another, giggling and shouting.
“Goodness, they’ll be wondering in Düsseldorf where all that noise is coming from,” Karl chuckled, as Georg and Hans ran past him, shouting at the top of their lungs. Just then, Laura and Horst and Ernst flew by from the other direction, squealing with laughter.
“Our boys are growing up so fast,” Lydia remarked, watching fondly while Hans and Georg roughhoused. “It pleases me so much to think that children like ours are the future of this country.”
“Me too,” I said, and for once I was being honest, because I believed that deep beneath the ugliness he’d absorbed, Georg was still a good person.
Jürgen and Karl exchanged a look, and then they rose simultaneously and wandered a little way away from us, talking quietly in a huddle.
“Rocket business,” Lydia sighed, shaking her head. “It never ends, does it?”
Jürgen’s expression of rapt concentration told me she was right, and I bit back a sigh. The children did another lap—this time, all five of them in a line. Hans was in front, and Georg was chasing him, waving a small stick in front of himself.
Hans suddenly, theatrically, fell to the ground, moaning and writhing as if he were dying. Georg approached, pointed the stick, and cried, “Boom!” I gasped and opened my mouth to protest the proximity of the stick to Hans’s face when Georg added in a triumphant voice, “Die, Jew, die!”
Hans gave his final groan and went still. Georg, Laura, and the twins all cheered, throwing their hands in the air to celebrate.
“Your children are developing as they should at last, and it’s all because you removed the negative influences from your family,” Lydia said, waving toward the children. I was too stunned to reply. She sighed happily. “This is what gives me so much hope for the Reich. If children so young can already see that the Jews need to be dealt with, can you imagine what they are going to be like as adults?”
That very thought sent a wave of nausea and panic crashing over me. I could barely breathe with the desperation to ask,When did your mind change about the Jews? How did your heart change? Does any part of you doubt these things you’re saying?
“I’m sorry,” I blurted, and on shaky legs, I made a beeline for a nearby garden bed, where I lost every bite of food I’d eaten. By the time I finished retching, Jürgen was at my side, rubbing my back.
“Can I do anything?” he asked, dropping his voice. I knew he assumed this was just sickness from the pregnancy. I shook my head, indicating I couldn’t yet speak. The nausea was gone, but panic was now clawing at me. I tried to suck in air, but my chest felt tight.
My children were playing “shoot the Jew” and I was not allowed to discipline them.
“Water,” I croaked, and he moved hastily, fetching me a glass of water from the table. I was trapped. The children were trapped. Standing in a public park on a magnificent day for my son’s birthday party, the claustrophobia was overwhelming.
Ignore the dissonant notes. Focus on the music.
