A Family Shattered: Book Two in the Michal's Destiny Series

  Chapter 6

  After what felt like several days alone, feeling as if she might go out of her mind in the basement jail, Michal heard footsteps. Terror gripped her as she heard the hard shoes hitting the concrete floor, and she cowered in the corner. She had not eaten or had anything to drink since she’d been locked up, and she hoped that someone might be coming with food or water. Of course that was the best case scenario. It could just as easily be someone on his or her way to finish her off. A black spider crawled across her arm. Michal shook it off and winced.

  Two female guards appeared. One opened the metal cage. The other grabbed Michal’s arm. She stumbled, but the woman pulled her up from falling and brought her upstairs. It was midday and because she’d been in the dark so long, at first the light burned her eyes. The guard who had led her upstairs turned to the other one. “Keep your eye on her, I’ll be right back.” When she returned she gave Michal a glass of water. It wasn’t cool, but it tasted like Heaven. After Michal finished, the guard threw the glass into a garbage can as if it had been used by a filthy animal. Michal didn’t care. She was grateful for the water. “Thank you,” Michal said, but the guard didn’t answer.

  Next Michal was shoved into the back of a truck filled with other women. A different female guard boarded the truck. She was carrying a gun. The guard was as big as a man, perhaps six feet tall, with short blond hair. Her eyes were alert as she watched the prisoners. Then the truck began to move. They were on their way somewhere.

  “Where are we going?” a young blond girl, a prisoner, asked.

  “No talking,” the guard said.

  They drove for a little over an hour and then turned a corner down a country road. After a short ride through a rural area, the group arrived at a womens prison. There they were forced into an old building. Again, Michal saw the mold on the walls and spots from water damage on the ceiling. She was led to a cell that she shared with three other women. Once all of the prisoners were locked into their new homes, a tall slender woman wearing a pressed Nazi uniform appeared. Her hair was pulled severely away from her face in a tight bun at the nape of her neck.. She paced the length of the hallway between the cells as she spoke.

  “I am Grupenfürher Bader. I am in charge of this section of the prison. You will find that I am fair, but you’ll be working on a production line and there is no tolerance for laziness here. This is a sewing factory. If you have never worked a machine, prepare to learn to work one quickly.”

  Michal realized that she was in some sort of work camp. The idea of work didn’t bother her, although she had never operated a sewing machine. But she was certain she could learn. Perhaps if she followed the rules and did a good job, she would be released sooner. So, this was the punishment she was to receive for resisting that disgusting Nazi’s advances. Well, at least she wasn’t dead, and as long as she was alive, there was a chance she could be released and go back to her family. Her stomach grumbled and she wondered when they would receive something to eat or drink. The woman who called herself Bader didn’t seem as difficult as the man who’d put her there in the first place, at least from what she could see so far.

  The women prisoners were lined up single file and ushered into a large room where roll call was taken. Then each woman was assigned a sewing machine. Those who had never done any sewing were given the aid of the instructions from a seasoned prisoner for one hour in order to learn their job.

  A middle-aged woman with trembling hands sat beside Michal on her bench and began to show her how to work the machine. “Pay attention. I have a quota that must be filled each day, and I will still have to meet it today, even though I am taking an hour out of my work time to train you. So, you’d better learn quickly if we both want to live through this.”

  “Yes, I will.” Michal nodded.

  “I’m Hilde.”

  “Michal.”

  “That’s a strange name ... you’re a Jew?”

  “Yes.”

  Hilde shook her head. “The conditions are bad in here for all of us, but it will be worse for you. It’s much worse for Jews.”

  Chapter 7

  Taavi

  Taavi had learned a lot about human nature during the years he’d worked as a bartender in Frieda Altendorf’s cabaret. It was part of his job to assess each customer and always be one step ahead. Through the use of this well-honed skill he was able to prevent many of the fights that were always brewing among the customers. It proved a useful tool. Even now, Taavi watched the guards carefully. Violence towards the prisoners occurred often, usually ending with the prisoner’s death. Horrible events took place right before Taavi’s eyes, but he knew that if he were to survive, he must stay coolheaded. If he allowed himself to be affected it would be his demise. There was no doubt that the guards had absolute power over the men, and how they handled that power was what Taavi was carefully observing every minute of every day. He was studying, watching and learning.

  Every night Taavi lay awake working over in his mind the details of what he’d observed. He was going to devise a plan. Somehow he would find a way out of this place.

  The work was hard and the food supply was miniscule. Before his arrest, he could never have imagined what it might have felt like to labor so intensely without rest for such long periods of time. But he was learning quickly that it was enough to kill weaker men than him. He would eat whatever food was available. He would prove he could take on any job that they asked of him, regardless of how challenging. And in the end, he would beat them.

  Most of the guards were unapproachable. Taavi learned that quickly, but he only needed one. The right one, and he dared not make a mistake or misjudge. Even the slightest error could easily cost him his life. Better to watch and wait. He was looking for a certain type of person, a man who could easily be bought. A greedy, weak man who wasn’t a patriot, but was a selfish bastard willing to do anything to better his own situation. This was the man he needed. Then one afternoon the men were working. The sun burnt their skin and their heads ached. One of the guards decided it would be fun to toy with a prisoner. So, the guard walked over and demanded that Fredrick lick the pavement. Fredrick refused. It was obvious that the young arrogant Nazi would not back down. Taavi wished that Fredrick would have complied. It was no use to fight openly this way. Taavi knew that the enemy was armed and they would always win. But Fredrick was young and his pride wouldn’t let him give in. Taavi had held his breath and his tongue as one of the guards beat his friend Fredrick with a club. Taavi’s heart was breaking, but his face was emotionless as he continued working. It took every ounce of his self-control not to lift that little Nazi and fling him against the wall.

  There was no doubt in Taavi’s mind that he could easily kill him. However, they were surrounded by far too many other guards with guns close enough to see what had happened. If Taavi defended his friend, it would mean certain death for both of them. So, he waited until the Nazi was done with Fredrick, then Taavi went to Fredrick to help him. Unlike Taavi, Fredrick was not imprisoned for being a Jew. Fredrick was a political prisoner, a well-known communist. He was young, angry, and unbending. And Taavi knew that Fredrick was just the kind of man to get himself killed in a place like this.

  “Listen, I have a plan to get us the hell out of here. But you have to stop fighting with the guards. Do whatever they say for now. Give me a chance to save us,” Taavi told Fredrick.

  “I’m going to die here. I know it,” Fredrick said.

  “Not if you listen to me and keep your head down. Stop fighting, I tell you. Stop giving them reasons to notice you.”

  “Get away from him and get back to work.” The guard poked Taavi with the same club he’d used to beat Fredrick. Taavi gave Fredrick a quick warning stare. Then he got up and went back to work.

  As Taavi lay on his cot one night, he saw one of the guards, a low-ranking officer, come into the barracks.

  The Nazi tapped a young prisoner on the foot with his gun. The prisoner sat up in bed. The guard n
odded. Then the prisoner followed the man out of the barracks. When he was sure they couldn’t see him, Taavi jumped out of bed and followed the two of them outside. Then, as lithe as a panther, he slipped quietly behind the building next door, and watched the guard lead the prisoner into the building and down a short hallway. Taavi’s ears were like a deer’s in the forest, alert. He crouched down and peeked into the window. Watching, waiting, learning. Taavi saw the prisoner follow the guard into a room. The guard turned the light on in the room and off in the rest of the building. Now the building was dark. Taavi could not see into the room. There was no point in staying. All he could see was darkness. But he branded the incident into his memory to use if at all possible at a later date. Taavi knew that if he was caught, he would be killed on the spot. So, quietly and carefully, Taavi slipped back into his bed in the barracks.

  A half hour later, he heard someone outside gagging and throwing up. Taavi peeked out through the boards that made up the wall of his block. It was the young prisoner the guard had taken to his office earlier. The Nazi pushed the man. “Get back into your bed right now,” the Nazi said. The man was still spewing vomit as he ran back into the room where Taavi lay. Then the man climbed into his bunk.

  The following day after roll call Taavi caught up with the young man who’d been taken to the office by the guard the night before. Taavi had an idea as to what the guard was doing, but he had to be sure before he acted.

  “I’m Taavi.”

  “Jake.”

  “Nice to meet you,” Taavi said. The boy was a Jew; he had the yellow arm band. “Jake, I want to ask you a question.” Taavi hesitated, but the boy didn’t speak. Jake just looked through Taavi with eyes that were dark, sunken in and surrounded by deep purple shadows. “What happened to you last night? Where did you go with that guard?”

  “I don’t want to talk about it,” Jake said, and walked away, leaving Taavi staring after him. Now Taavi was even more sure that he was right. He had been around enough to have a pretty good idea of what the guard had forced this young man to do. He would not ask again. Instead, he would wait for a chance to be alone with that guard. This might be his way out.

  Taavi easily learned that the guard’s name was Fritz Braus. He was a blockführer who worked closely with the kapos even though Braus told everyone how much he hated the sniveling tattletales. Rumors were whispered among the prisoners that Braus had a fascination with torturing teenage boys and young men.

  Braus was a low-ranking officer, with a rapportführer over him who had no respect for Braus at all. Fritz Braus was a small, angry man with a pot belly and a bad case of rosacea surrounded by blackheads and pus-filled acne. Requesting an audience with Braus was dangerous business. But, it was a risk Taavi had to take.Michal and his girls needed him.

  “Blockführer, I’d like to speak to you alone please,” Taavi said to Braus.

  The little man studied Taavi, and Taavi could see in Braus’s eyes that Braus was jealous of him.

  “Would you? And what would a cockroach like you have to talk to me about?”

  “I’m sorry, but I need a private conversation with you.”

  Taavi saw just a hint of a twinkle in Braus’s eyes and he knew that he’d intrigued the man. This was a good sign. Taavi had no choice but to trust it.

  “Very well … go on … walk,” Braus said, nudging Taavi with the butt of his gun. They arrived at the same office Taavi had seen Braus enter with Jake the previous night.

  “Get inside.” Taavi was led into the same room. The door was closed. This was it.

  Taavi’s heart pounded in his neck, making him dizzy and sick to his stomach. Within the next hour, he either would be dead or finally have found the avenue for which he’d been searching. Either way he would be getting out. It all might go as planned and he would be going home, or he might be about to make a fatal mistake and Braus would end his life.

  All remained to be seen.

  Braus sat down behind his desk and lit a cigarette. He caught Taavi’s eyes drifting over to the ashtray. “You like it? It’s quite a novelty. I actually received it as a gift. Do you know what it is?”

  Taavi didn’t answer. He was watching Braus’s every move, sizing him up, praying that he’d judged him correctly, that he’d chosen the right man.

  “It’s the pelvis of a Jew. A woman. Quite unique, don’t you think.”

  Already nauseated, if Taavi had a weaker stomach, he would have puked. But he couldn’t show any fear or weakness right now. The future of his family depended upon it.

  “You don’t answer?”

  Taavi shrugged. Braus laughed. “Okay, you bold Jew, you’ve piqued my curiosity, so what do you want to ask me?”

  “I have a proposition for you.”

  Braus barked a laugh. “Do you now? You’re even bolder than I thought. But I must say, you have guts and you do amuse me. But remember that it is I who have the power. So take care when you make a request. It’s sort of like praying. You don’t want to anger the powers that be.”

  Taavi nodded.

  “This is rather entertaining. Go on. Tell me what you want already before I get bored and shoot you for bothering me.”

  Taavi cleared his throat. He tried to hide the fact that his limbs were trembling.

  “There is a woman,” Taavi stuttered . Braus’s eyebrows went up.

  “Speak already. You really are starting to tire me.”

  “I have a friend. A German woman. She lives in Berlin. I knew her many years ago, I worked for her.” Taavi tried to keep his voice steady and to speak slowly and clearly so Braus would not know how unnerved he felt. “This woman I am talking about. She is very wealthy. If you contact her and tell her I am here, she will pay you a good sum of money for my release.”

  Braus took a puff of his cigarette then bit his lower lip. “What makes you think I won’t kill you here and now for even suggesting such a thing?”

  “Greed? I am taking a chance that you would want enough money to retire somewhere in the country. Wouldn’t the life of one meaningless Jew be worth it to you to have a better life?” This was it. He would either take the bait or Taavi was finished.

  “And … what makes you think she’ll pay for your release? She might just turn her back on you. She might laugh at me for even asking the question. Then I’d be very angry with you, Jew. Very angry.”

  “I don’t think she will turn you away. I know her well. She owes me a big favor,” Taavi lied. He had no idea if Frieda would come to his aid. The last time he saw her, she was furious with him. The last time they were together, he was leaving her behind, walking out on her to return to his wife. She’d been kind to him, given him a good job tending bar at her cabaret. It was during the years that he and Michal had separated. Taavi had come to work for Frieda with no place to live, but Frieda had generously insisted that he take the apartment behind the nightclub for his own. He’d lived there rent-free for many years. And during those years, she had become his lover. Frieda was older than Taavi, and under her direction he’d navigated the perverse life of a single man in Weimar Germany. At first, it was exciting. After all, he was only a peasant from a small village in Siberia. He’d never known anyone who’d lived such an elaborate lifestyle: the excessive drink, the drugs, the sexual promiscuity. But as time passed, Taavi missed having a stable home life. And most of all he missed his wife, his Michal. He thought of her all the time, but he didn’t think she would ever want him back. Then, when he least expected it, Michal sent Lev to tell Taavi that she wanted to reconcile their marriage. He’d been ecstatic. He met with Michal that very night and their love rekindled like a candle flame that was about to extinguish but had been fed just enough oxygen to reignite and become strong. And so, the following day, he’d gone back to the bar and explained to Frieda that he was going home. She was furious. At the time, he was sorry, but not sorry enough to turn around and go back to Frieda. He had never wanted to to hurt Frieda’s feelings. It had just happened that way. When the op
portunity to go home came to him he rejoiced. He quickly forgot the lifestyle he had shared while working for Frieda and found joy in meeting his daughter who had been born while he and Michal were separated, For the first time Tavi felt settled and he loved being a family man. Now, Taavi needed Frieda’s help. There was a possibility that she was still angry and might turn on him. In fact, he couldn’t blame her if she did. But, she was his only hope, the only person with enough influence and money to buy his freedom. If she came through for him, he’d pay her back every penny. However, he knew that she was jealous of his feelings for Michal, and if she even suspected that he intended to go home, she could easily leave him to rot in this terrible place.