Joey slept as the morning sun crept through the window shade. Gently Alina pressed the back of her hand against his forehead. It had cooled down. Had her prayers been answered? Had God spared her son? She kissed his cheek and listened. His breathing was regular; the wheezing was not entirely gone, but it had subsided a great deal, and he seemed comfortable. As she looked at her child asleep on his side with his thumb in his mouth, Alina was deep in thought. I have to find a way to earn my own money. After last night I know that I cannot ever put my life or the life of my son in the hands of a man again. No matter what I have to do, I will find a way to become self-supporting. Joey could have died last night, and because I was dependent on Trevor for everything, I was powerless to help him. That must never happen again, never. But how will I ever find work? How? I have no skills.Alina bit her lower lip, Well, she thought, the English class is where I have to begin, because if I can’t speak the language in this country, I will never survive on my own. Being married to Trevor or any other man was not the answer. The only person I can really trust and depend upon is myself. But how?
The next day, Joey was much better. His fever was gone and he was smiling. Alina was amazed at how quickly he’d recovered. Whatever had been wrong with him had passed as the angel of death had passed over the homes smeared with lambs’ blood on Passover, leaving him alive. She thanked God repeatedly. Her son had been spared. He’d been given back to her. However, she’d learned a valuable lesson, and her marriage to Trevor had suffered beyond repair.
It was as if that night Trevor crossed an invisible line, and from that day forward he no longer tried to control his foul temper. During an argument several days later, he slapped Alina across her cheek when she pushed him away from Joey. His language when he spoke to Alina was coarse and disrespectful, and when the baby woke him at night he didn’t think twice about banging on the locked door of Alina’s room and shouting at her that he would like to kill that good for nothing bastard. Alina was terrified of him, not only for herself but mostly for Joey.
She had to find a way out.
Meanwhile, Ugo had become a constant in her life, a good friend. And the classes they shared became the highlight of Alina’s week. He was always offering to help her. When she needed to buy clothes for Joey and didn’t want to ask Trevor for money, she casually mentioned it to Ugo. The following week he appeared at their meeting place with a bag of clothing for a baby. “I have these things from when my daughter was little. Many of them are yellow so you can’t tell if they are for a boy or girl. Try them, maybe they will fit,” he said.
The clothing was clean and Alina appreciated that he had remembered. Ugo had that same quiet kindness, that same thoughtfulness her father had. When she was depressed, Ugo made her laugh with jokes about the way people misunderstood his English because of his Russian accent. His easy sense of humor always gave her a feeling of well-being. But Alina knew that she dared not think about falling in love. It would only make her more dependent on another person. And a married man at that. Nothing good could come of an affair between her and Ugo. For right now, she had to concentrate on finding a way to support Joey and herself so that she could escape from Trevor. If she’d learned anything from her past, it was that going from one man to another man for security was not the answer. Alina had to have her own money, so she could make her own decisions and take care of her child without having to ask for help from anyone.
Because she had become such an involved student, the English class was proving to be priceless for Alina’s development. She worked and studied hard, learning quickly. Her hatred for her husband motivated her. She would work hard until she was able to speak well enough to keep a job. Then she could get away from Trevor. And as much as she tried to resist it, the friendship between Alina and Ugo deepened. It was hard not to like him. He was so kind and understanding. So easy to talk to. Ugo was walking her back home from class one afternoon and they were having a conversation. Whenever they were together they made it a point to practice their skills by speaking only in English. He was far too attentive for a man who had a wife. It angered her because his sweetness nurtured the fire in the feelings that were growing for him in her heart. Feelings she wanted to extinguish. They were pointless and counterproductive to the future she’d been planning.
“Aren’t you married?” Alina asked Ugo rather curtly.
“I was, my wife left me. She took my daughter. She won’t even let me see my child because of how badly I behaved when she left me. I am ashamed to tell you what happened.”
Alina cocked her head. What had he done? It was hard to imagine that Ugo could have behaved the same way Trevor did. Did he hit his wife? Did he hurt his child? But now that he mentioned it, Alina had to know. “We’re friends, Ugo. You can tell me what happened.”
Ugo looked away from her and said, “My wife became a whore.” He coughed a little but still did not turn to look at Alina. “She works in a whorehouse. It was my fault. I was a disappointment to her. You see, I couldn’t earn enough money to keep her happy. She was never satisfied with what I could give her. Nothing I did or tried to do was ever enough for Klara ... I sent her and my daughter to America before I came to here. We didn’t have enough money to pay for passage for all of us. I wanted to be sure that she got out of Russia as quickly as possible. I mean, with the war and Stalin. I wanted to take care of them before myself. My little girl, Lada, her formal name is Christina, but I affectionately call her Lada. It means goddess of beauty. Lada wasn’t even a full year old when she and Klara came here. I was afraid to send her on the journey, but I was more afraid not to….” Finally he turned to look at her.
Alina thought she saw his eyes turning glassy with tears. But he didn’t cry.
Ugo continued, “After I knew Klara and Lada had arrived in America safely, I worked at any available job just to earn enough money for passage for myself. Sometimes I worked sixteen to eighteen hours a day. It took me a year to save enough because I sent money to them during that time as well. That delayed my journey, but I wanted to make sure that I took care of them as much as I could. When I got to the United States, I didn’t know it, but Klara was already working as a prostitute. It was hard to find my way here in the beginning because of the language, but I found this job delivering heavy furniture. Believe me, I did my best to support my wife and child, to be a good husband. But I couldn’t earn enough to give her the finer things in life. We were just surviving, and barely. But I began to notice that she was somehow getting jewelry and nice clothes. I couldn’t understand how. So, I asked her. That’s when she told me that she was working as a prostitute. In fact, she said she was glad I asked because she was planning to leave me and move into the whorehouse where she could work full time. I failed her. I never even came close to making the kind of money that she can earn there at the brothel. It makes me sick. I feel worthless.”
“I’m sorry to hear it,” Alina said. She didn’t say what she was thinking, but she wondered if the child was really Ugo’s. Perhaps his wife had been selling her body in Russia before she’d ever left to come to the US.
“Your parents are here?” Alina asked
“No, the people I am staying with are my aunt and uncle, but I’ve been calling them Mama and Papa since I was very young. They are like parents to me. She’s my father’s sister. She married an American during the Great War and they sponsored my wife, my daughter, and I to come into the country.”
“Your parents are still in Russia?”
“They are dead. My aunt and her husband are the only real family I have. Except of course my daughter who lives with her mother.””
Alina saw the shame in Ugo’s face. His shoulders slumped. His hands were stuffed in his pockets. And his features seemed to crumple as he talked. Alina stroked his forearm. She felt bad for him and had no doubt that he’d done all he could to make his wife happy. “I am so sorry that you went through all of this,” she said in a gentle voice, not knowing what else to say.
?
??Yes, well, I’m new to this country and I am hoping that once I speak perfect English I will be able to get a better job and earn more money. Then I will get married again. A man should be married, and have a family. I believe that everyone needs someone in their lives to come home to after a hard day of work. Someone to share their lives with. You know what I mean? And for this I will need to earn more money … get a better job.”
“A better job … yes. I am sure you will get a better job.” Alina liked Ugo a lot. He was a kind and honest man. A good man with a good heart. And now she knew he was single. But she’d had her fill of love and men, and she was never going to fall back into thinking of marriage as her safety net. Not anymore.
Chapter 39
Alina
Alina knew that Trevor kept wads of cash in the top drawer of his dresser. After all, she washed and ironed all of his clothes then carefully put them away as he’d demanded they be arranged. Since the day she came to work for him she always saw the roll of American dollars when she put the piles of neatly folded clothes into the drawer. She’d never touched the money. In fact she’d never even dared to count it. But now that she thought about it, she realized that she had never seen Trevor count it either. He trusted her. Alina decided that he shouldn’t have. Not the way he treated her and Joey. And as time went on he only becoming meaner. He’d slapped her again on several occasions when he’d asked her a question and he hadn’t liked her answer. And now Alina was convinced that he had married her so that she would be his cook and housekeeper without expecting to be paid.
She began to think about taking money from the drawer. Then several times when Trevor was out and Joey was napping, Alina held the money in her trembling hands. The bills felt strange and cold in her hands. Her own thoughts terrified her. If she took all of the money and ran away, Trevor would call the police and she would end up in jail or deported. However, what if she took small amounts every so often and hid them away; in time, she would have enough to start her own business. The idea made her stomach sick with fear but also excited with anticipation of being free of this man and this marriage. She had never stolen anything from anyone before. But she could see no other way out.
The first time Alina stole from her husband she took a single dollar and hid it under her pillow. All night she worried that Trevor would notice and say something. Every time she saw him she was terrified that she would be found out and he would beat her. But, days passed and he never mentioned the missing money. The following week she took another two dollars. Again, he didn’t notice. So, from then on she began to take a few dollars weekly. She had no firm plan, but she knew that when the time came to go at least she would have the money to survive and most importantly to take care of Joey. She longed to tell Ugo what she was doing. It would be good to talk to someone about all the guilt and fear she held like a secret in her heart. Ugo had become her closest friend and somehow she knew he wouldn’t judge her. But she decided it was best not to tell anyone about the crime she was committing Every time Trevor said or did something that hurt her or Joey she thought about that money, and the very thought that she’d taken it from him comforted her. As time went on, Alina grew bolder and began taking more. Trevor still didn’t notice. Her little pile of cash began to grow. In fact, now it was too big to hide under a pillow, so she cut out a space between the mattress and the box spring and tucked the bills inside.
Chapter 39
Michal, April 28, 1942
Ravensbruck had plenty of spies, women who found out information before the rest of the prisoners, and because of these spies a rumor had begun to circulate that Himmler was planning a second visit to Ravensbruck. The last time he came, he’d walked through the camp surveying the broken women. He was making sure that all of his orders were being carried out.
Michal remembered the day of Himmler’s first visit. The entire camp’s population had been standing in a line at roll call. He’d marched by with his chin high and his hands clasped behind his back, smiling at the woman guard to let her know that he was pleased with how well things were going at the camp. Heida had warned Michal to keep her eyes cast down as he walked by her.
“Don’t look him in the eye. You hear me? Don’t draw any attention to yourself,” Heida warned.
“I know. I know,” Michal answered her. And when he arrived that day, she tried to do as Heida had told her to do. She’d kept her eyes on the ground. But as he was passing by, engaged deeply in conversation with the female guard, who Michal noticed had curled her blond hair for the occasion, Michal quickly looked up. Neither Himmler nor the guard saw her, but Michal couldn’t help herself. She had to see him. She had to look directly at the man who had orchestrated such a hell for helpless women. And there he was: Heinrich Himmler. He was just inches away from Michal. If she reached out she could touch him. If she had a knife and the courage she could kill him. His polished black boots caught a ray of sunshine as he was laughing at something the female guard said. Michal shivered. Looking at him, she felt as if she’d seen the devil walking the earth. It wasn’t so much the way he looked. Himmler was an average man, rather unattractive, wearing thick glasses, his tailored uniform and hat. It was something else, something far more sinister. He had a dark and terrible smell of death. An odor his expensive cologne could never mask. And long after he’d gone, whenever someone talked about him, Michal would still feel the evil heaviness of his presence and smell the invisible odor that followed him.
Now a frightening rumor was circulating like a virus among the prisoners that Himmler was planning to return. No one knew why. Perhaps it was just to see how the camp was faring. Maybe to be sure that no one was being given too much food or water. It was hard to say, but everyone was uneasy, even the guards. The prisoners feared for their lives and the guards feared for their comfortable jobs. But all waited in anticipation of Himmler’s visit.
A deep bond of friendship had formed between Heida and Michal. To the others in the camp, Heida appeared hard. She barely spoke, and when she did she gave one-word answers. But she’d finally opened up and talked to Michal. Michal was quiet and kept to herself, she didn’t gossip or complain, and so Heida felt that she could tell things to Michal without worrying about her secrets being shared indiscriminately with everyone. And so, Heida told Michal her story. Heida said she hadn’t known that she was a lesbian until she met Iris. In fact, when she and Iris met, Heida was married with a young son, Ludwig. It wasn’t an unhappy marriage, but from the beginning, something was missing. Even when she was with her husband, Gerwig, Heida said she felt alone. Sometimes she would lie in bed beside him and feel pain in her throat from holding back the tears. Gerwig tried unsuccessfully to be a good husband, but Heida admitted that he was a wonderful father. When Heida met Iris, Iris was studying to be an architect.
“An ambitious career for a woman,” Heida told Michal, smiling, “but that was Iris. The male students were not quick to accept her. However, she was not easily discouraged. My husband had gone back to further his education. He was studying to be an engineer at the same university that Iris was attending. I met Iris when my husband came down with a terrible flu. He was very ill and asked me to pick up and deliver his class work every day, so that he would not be behind in his class. Every morning I would dress Ludwig and take him with me to the university to pick up Gerwig’s work. One of the mornings when I arrived, Iris was waiting in the office. She had a private meeting with her professor, and he was late. It was the main office, the same place that I went to pick up Gerwig’s work from his professors. Iris and I began to talk. I’d never met such a strong, ambitious woman. And this might sound strange, but somehow, from within the first few minutes that we spoke, I knew that she embodied the real me. Does that make any sense to you? What I mean is that being with her helped me to know who I was.” Heida smiled. “Then she seemed to be at the office at least twice a week when I arrived. She later told me that she felt the same way about me that I did about her and had begun to find reasons to be at
the office when I came in to pick up and deliver my husband’s work. Then when my husband got well and went back to his classes, I didn’t want to say goodbye to Iris. So, I went to the university. But this time it was only to meet with Iris. After that, we began to make plans to meet outside of the university, at the park. Then at cafés or restaurants. One thing led to another and well, it just happened. And once we made love, I knew beyond a doubt that I’d finally come home. Now everything made sense to me. I understood why things were never right with Gerwig. I guess you could say, I finally knew myself, and I also knew that this woman was my true love. Iris was very political. She and I became very involved with the Communist Party. As time went by I became even more involved than she was. I guess I was and still am enraptured with ideals of equality. That’s probably why the Gestapo was keeping an eye on me.”