“Don’t you know what today is?”
“Of course, I do. Nine years with the most wonderful man on earth.”
Eli looked a little sheepish, took a deep breath and produced a small black box from his pocket. He held it out and said, “Happy anniversary, honey.” Esther’s eyes opened wide, her jaw slowly dropped. She did not expect this.
“Did you think I would forget?” Eli said. “Is the bloom off the rose? Do you take your poor husband for granted?”
“Never,” she said, with a catch in her throat, “but under the circumstances…” She broke into tears and threw her arms around him. “I love you so much.”
“And I love you ten times more.”
“How in the world did you…”
“Never mind. Just open it.” She slowly opened the box and took out a silver necklace. Her hands shook, and Eli placed the chain around her neck. “Where…?” she said.
“David Wolff closed his store; it was too dangerous to keep it open. But he still sells a little jewelry from his home.”
“It’s beautiful.”
“And tonight I’m taking you out to dinner. Rabinovitz is saving me a table at his café.”
“We can’t leave Izaak.”
“It’s a table for three.”
* * *
Jewish commerce, or what remained of it, had condensed into the main square in the Jewish ghetto. There were a few restaurants still in business despite the depressed economy and the difficulty of obtaining fresh food. Restaurants, like all Jewish-owned businesses, were required to display a Star of David and the word Juden on the front windows.
The Nazis had hung huge German flags and Nazi flags from the roofs and terraces of the taller buildings all throughout the city, and doubly so in the Jewish quarter. Many of the Jewish businesses had been vandalized and had been victim to brazen theft by Nazis, but unlike Warsaw and Lodz, Lublin’s Jewish quarter remained open.
Viktor Rabinovitz had set a table for Eli on his outdoor patio. A small bottle of wine and a daisy in a bud vase were sitting on the table when the Rosens arrived. The early evening was warm, and people were out strolling through the square. Living conditions had become tense in the tightly compacted Jewish quarter, and an opportunity to take a walk in the pleasant evening air was a welcome respite, providing they were inside the ghetto by curfew.
Rabinovitz’s menu had only three dinner offerings. Viktor recommended the lamb. “It’s good tonight, very fresh. We still have our contacts outside the city.” He winked. Eli and Esther ordered the lamb, while Izaak opted for a plate of rosol: chicken and pasta in a tasty broth.
In the glow of the setting sun and with a warm breeze from the south, it was a moment to savor, a break from the harsh conditions of the occupation, a reflection of life before the apocalypse, when life was more commodious and decency and respect resided in Lublin. It was a moment to breathe deeply and continue to hope. Eli and Esther held hands beneath the table and smiled. People passed by and nodded a greeting. “What’s the occasion?” they would say. “Nine years of marital heaven,” Eli would answer.
Viktor picked up the dinner dishes and said, “How about dessert? I have wonderful sernik with early-season strawberries.” Izaak made a face. “He doesn’t like cheesecake,” Esther said, “but Eli and I do. If you have a paczki, it would please Izaak.”
While the Rosens were enjoying their dessert, a group of four uniformed soldiers entered the square. People immediately averted their eyes and quickly moved to the perimeter, all of which greatly amused the Nazis. They meandered about the square and soon approached the Rosens’ table. One of them, a young blond, no more than a gangly teen with acne on his face and a rifle strapped to his shoulder, reached down to pick the paczki off of Izaak’s plate, but his companion said, “Gunther, stop. Are you going to eat off a Jew’s plate?” He stopped, made a face and backed away. “Oh, I don’t know what I was thinking.” Then he noticed Esther’s necklace. “Look at what we have here. Silver on that old hag’s neck. That’s far too nice for a Jewess, don’t you think, Hans?” he said. “It should adorn a young fräulein’s neck.” He held out his hand. “Give it to me.”
Izaak jumped up. “You can’t have her necklace. It belongs to my mama. It was a present.”
The Nazis laughed, but the blond teen did not. “Your German is very poor. Sit down, little boy, before you learn the manners that your father has obviously failed to teach you.” Then he turned to Esther. “Now! Give me that necklace.”
“No,” yelled Izaak, standing up in front of his mother. “You can’t have it. It’s hers.”
The Nazi pulled his arm back to give Izaak a backhand swat across his face, but Eli’s powerful hand shot out, caught the man’s wrist and twisted it behind his back. “You don’t touch my son. Ever. Keep walking.”
The blond pulled his arm away and backed up. His jaw was quivering. He looked to his companions for support, but they were teens as well, and everyone was caught in the uncertainty of the moment. Esther started to take her necklace off, but Eli said, “Don’t do it, Essie. Izaak is right; it’s your necklace. They’re not going to do anything, because if they injure any of Zörner’s shop workers, they’ll have to answer for it.”
“Your snotty kid is not a worker,” said the blond with a smile, and he took his rifle off of his shoulder. Eli grabbed Izaak and put him behind his back. People who were walking in the square stopped and formed a circle surrounding the table, inching ever closer. The perimeter steadily contracted and the soldiers found themselves in a shrinking bulls-eye.
“Look around,” Eli said. “You’re not among friends here. Tell me, does the mighty German army now conduct war against defenseless six-year-olds? Is that your specialty?”
The four soldiers twisted their heads from side to side in apprehension of the encircling crowd. “Gunther,” the blond’s companion said, “forget it.” He tugged on his sleeve. “Let it go, Gunther. The Jew isn’t worth it, and I don’t want to spend my evening making reports on why we had to shoot people. Forget the stupid necklace. It’s probably a fake anyway.”
Gunther slung his rifle back onto his shoulder and said, “Yeah, you’re right; it’s a fake. A piece of shit for a shitty Jew.” He sneered at the Rosens and spit on their table. As the soldiers turned to leave, the crowd parted to provide a path out of the plaza, and the Nazis quickly retreated.
Eli took a deep breath. He nodded to the people in the square—his people, his Lubliners. They waved back and continued on their evening strolls with smiles on their faces. For just that spot in time, they had made a stand and they felt good about it. Viktor brought out a bottle of Polish whiskey, poured three drinks and sat down at the table. He set a plateful of cookies before Izaak and said, “You are the bravest young man I’ve ever known.”
Izaak shrugged and ate a cookie.
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
LUBLIN, POLAND
JUNE 1, 1941
MONTH 21 OF THE NAZI OCCUPATION
Maximilian drove into the Rosen brickyard in a dark maroon sedan polished to a mirrored shine. He stepped out wearing a white straw hat, a pastel suit and white spats above his shoes. He was there to inform Eli and Jakob that land had now been specifically set aside and cleared in Litzmannstadt for the establishment of the new brickyard.