A large crowd had gathered at the entrance to the Renaissance-styled church. Izaak, more shy than frightened, huddled close to his father. Lucya came out to welcome them, took Izaak by the hand and led them both into the church. Cookies, pazckis and Polish gingerbread were set on the refreshment table in the vestibule with tea and juice. Lucya winked and stuffed a handful of cookies into a napkin for Izaak.
In the corner of the sanctuary, just to the right of the pulpit, the statue of the Blessed Virgin stood covered with a large white drop cloth. Louis, in his black suit and fur-trimmed black hat, stood proudly beside Father Jaworski. Right on cue, the bells began to chime, and the parishioners took their seats. Izaak and Eli were led to seats reserved for them in the front pew.
Father Jaworski climbed the steps to the pulpit. After a few short welcoming prayers, he directed his attention to the covered statue. “She was commissioned by our church in 1787,” he said in a pleasing baritone. “It has been said by many that she radiates the spirit of the Blessed Virgin. She has welcomed pilgrims and worshippers for over one hundred fifty years. I cannot begin to count the number of brides who have knelt before her and presented their bouquets, seeking her blessings on their wedding day. Sadly, as all of us know, our lovely statue was badly injured when the Germans dropped their bombs last September. We held little hope for her recovery. Not only was it artistically challenging, but the cost of the restoration far exceeded our budget. Yet through the generosity of Rosen and Sons Construction Company, and through the tireless efforts of Louis Rosen, our Blessed Virgin has been fully repaired and restored to her original beauty.”
Father Jaworski stepped down and took his place beside the covered statue. He reached for Louis’s hand and raised it high. “This is Louis Rosen, a talented artist to whom we owe our gratitude. He is not a member of our parish. He is not even a Catholic. He owes us nothing, yet he has worked for months, many times late into the night. And, may God bless him, he has done it all out of charity and generosity and for the love of art. He did not charge us a single zloty. He is a godsend for our parish.” Applause echoed off the ancient walls.
Father Jaworski puffed up his chest and said, “And now it is the time we have all waited for.” He nodded to Louis, who reached up, untied the ropes and pulled down the drop cloth. For a moment the church was silent but for gasps of awe. Then, slowly at first, and mounting in intensity, the church filled with a thunderous applause. The Virgin Mary stood high in all her radiance. There was not a sign of damage. No cracks, no chips. Even the colors were blended true to the original. A line quickly formed to appreciate the work.
“It is a miracle,” Lucya said.
Louis blushed and shook his head. “No, just some cement and glue and paint and time.”
Lucya extended her arm. “I want you to look around, at our parishioners, at the smiles on their faces. True, she’s only a statue, only a representation, but she touches the depths of their faith. You have not only restored a work of art, you have spurred a heightened sense of spirituality at a time when many question their faith. They believe, as do I, that God sent you to us in a time of need. Both you and Eli.”
She bent down to talk to Izaak. “You can be very proud of your father and your uncle. They are a blessing.” Izaak smiled and hid his face behind his father. She spoke quietly to Eli. “We have made a connection here. A bridge. Let’s keep it open. Please come and visit from time to time. I will do the same. Times are perilous. Keep me in mind.”
* * *
Eli and Izaak left the church and went straight to the clinic. It was the end of Esther’s shift and they intended to walk home with her. Izaak couldn’t wait to tell her all about his uncle and his new friends at the Catholic church. He had a bounce in his step.
“She’s not here,” a nurse said. “Esther didn’t come in today. I hope she’s feeling all right.”
Eli was shocked. “Not here? I thought she was working today. Maybe I misunderstood her schedule.” Eli turned to leave but paused. “She seemed fine this morning. Are you sure she’s not in the back with some patient?”
“I think I would know, Eli. She’s not here.”
Eli was confounded. He didn’t like surprises or sudden changes in plans. Especially these days. He felt uneasy. “Okay. It must be my mistake,” he said, but he didn’t believe it. Something was wrong. He took Izaak by the hand and walked directly home.
“Mama,” Izaak yelled when he burst into the house. “Mama, I went to a church. Uncle Louis was the star. He fixed their statue. They all clapped for him. Mama? Mama?” There was no answer. “Mama?” he yelled again. Nothing but silence.
“Esther? Klara?” Eli called. No response.
Eli quickly searched the house. It was almost evening. If Esther wasn’t at work, she would have been at home. She would have been starting something for dinner. “Esther? Klara?”
Izaak pointed to Esther’s coat hanging in the closet. “She doesn’t have her coat, Papa. She’ll get cold.”
Eli’s mind raced through all the possible reasons why Esther and Klara were not where they should have been. He went outside and walked around the house to see if she was in the garden. Spring flowers were blooming, and she might be picking a few for the dinner table. Esther loved fresh flowers. Maybe she had run to the store at the last minute for a missing ingredient. But Izaak was right: she didn’t take her coat. And where was Klara?
Eli stood on the walk in the front of his house, his mind in a whirl, when the elderly man who lived across the street called out, “Eli, they’re gone.”
A jolt ran through Eli. “What happened?”
“They were here earlier,” he said. “The Jew Hunters. They took her and every woman on this street. I saw them pull your wife out of the house, and also the smaller woman, and they put them into a truck.”
Eli picked up Izaak, put him under his arm and ran all the way to the brickyard. “Papa,” he yelled as he entered the office. “Papa, they grabbed Esther and Klara. They came while we were at the church and took every woman on our street. I’m going off to find her. Watch Izaak.”
“Stop, Eli. You’re not thinking clearly. Who grabbed her?”
“My neighbor said it was the Jew Hunters.”
“That would mean it was the ORPO, the German Order Police. I have heard they are rounding up people to take to work camps.”
“I have to go find her.”
“Where would you go, Eli? Even if you knew the location, what would you do? Would you fight the police?”
Tears welled up in Eli’s eyes. His nerves were on fire. “I have to do something. They’ve taken my wife.”
“I think we both know the answer: it’s Maximilian. If he doesn’t know where she is today, he can find out tomorrow. As much as I hate to say it, we need Maximilian to keep his promise.”
“You’re right, I’ll go straight to city hall. He has an office there.”
Jakob shook his head. “No, son, it’s a Sunday, and evening is approaching. He won’t be there. Besides, I doubt you’d get close to Globočnik’s city hall.”
“Then what are you saying? Do nothing?”