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Watch Over My Child: Book Three in the Michal's Destiny Series, Page 2

Roberta Kagan


  Then for a few minutes everything was quiet. “What do you think they’re going to do? Do you think they’ll come back and arrest us?” Gilde asked Elias.

  He shrugged. “Don’t know.”

  When Gilde looked around the train car she saw that all of the other children’s eyes were filled with fright and apprehension.

  “I’m afraid they’re going to come back,” Gilde whispered to Elias.

  “Nahh.” He smiled, trying to look strong and confident, but Gilde could see the fear in his eyes. “If they were going to take us they would have done it already.”

  Shaul was sitting in his seat, his face pale, his eyes darting to and from the door.

  Then the train rumbled, and sputtered, and they were in motion again. Gilde sighed with relief. Shaul wiped the sweat from his forehead with the forearm of his coat. And Elias stood up and reached into his pants. He handed the necklace back to Gilde. “Put this somewhere that they won’t find it, or they’ll take it away from you if they stop us again,” Elias said.

  She nodded. Then Elias sat down by the window and looked out. He didn’t speak for several hours. Gilde felt sorry for him. She knew that he felt ashamed for looking weak and unable to fight back against the Nazi. She tried to think of something to say to make him feel better, but she couldn’t think of anything. So, she just sat there staring straight ahead, having to put her trust in God as to what the future held, with Alina’s necklace gripped firmly in her palm.

  As they inched their way towards Holland, Gilde held her breath. She was so tense, so worried that at any moment the Nazis would board the train and take them that she bit through the side of her mouth and tasted blood.

  “Only a few more miles,” Elias said. “And we’ll be out safely.”

  Shaul wasn’t speaking. His leg was twitching and he kept looking around the car

  When the train finally passed through the border into Holland, all of the children stood up and cheered. From the way that they were cheering, Gilde knew that they had all been tense until this very moment. Gilde smiled wryly. She wanted to be happy, but she was leaving everything she loved in Germany. Yes, she was thankful that the danger of being boarded and arrested had passed. But Alina’s face flashed before her, and then she thought of the little room that they shared in the apartment over her father’s store. She visualized her old worn teddy bear with the pink bow around its neck. It was falling apart with ageHer father had given her that teddy when she was very young. She hadn’t taken it with her because she had limited space. Now she wished she had packed it and left some of her other things behind. The train came to an abrupt halt, shaking the passengers back into their seats and then forth. At first it felt like there was some trick, some cruel trick. Gilde looked at Elias, who smiled at her reassuringly. “We’re in Holland,” he said.

  She wasn’t sure what that meant. Did that mean they were safe? If so, then why were they stopping?

  The train conductor came into the car and the children were escorted into the station building. A pang of fear twitched in the back of Gilde’s neck. But then they were greeted by Dutch women with friendly smiles who gave them hot chocolate and cakes.

  “See, I told you we were going to be fine,” Elias said, smiling and biting into a small cake. Shaul had crumbs all over his coat. Shaul and Elias ate and drank until they were almost sick. But Gilde had no appetite, even though she had not eaten for two days. Her insides were twisted in knots, and as hard as she tried, she couldn’t overcome the terror of uncertainty and the longing to return to the familiar.

  The group of Jewish orphans spent a couple of hours with the Dutch women. But before too long, Gilde was on a bus to the ferry that would take her closer to her destination.

  London. Gilde thought about London as she wrapped her arms around herself and closed her eyes. All she knew of London was the old song about the bridge falling down. London was a foreign place filled with people who did not speak the same language as she did. How would she ever communicate with them? Both of the boys had fallen asleep. She looked deeply into their faces. When he was awake Elias looked so strong and capable, like a man, but when he slept it was easier to see that he was only a fourteen-year-old boy without a family, without anyone in the world but himself to lean on. And Shaul, dear Shaul, he sort of reminded her of her old teddy bear. Her heart ached. These two boys were all she had left of her previous life. They would be the only ones in her new life who would remember Alina, and Lotti, the only people who could still laugh with her about Mrs. Shienberg the history teacher’s sheitel that was never on straight or complain about how demanding Mr. Bulmanstein was about homework. Of course she could write to Alina and Lotti, and she would, but it might be years before she could look into their eyes and hold their hands again. And what of Papa and Mommy If only she knew. That was the most difficult part of this already terrible adventure. She would be far away, too far to see anything with her own eyes. She would have to believe whatever Alina or Lotti told her. Again, for the one thousandth time, she asked herself the same terrifying questions. Were her parents still alive? Were they dead? Were they suffering? She asked herself these questions silently, because in truth she had no one to ask.No one had an answer.

  CHAPTER 2

  Gilde 1938

  When they arrived in London, Gilde, Elias, and Shaul each wearing their large cardboard signs around their necks stood at the train station shivering as the snow fell in sheets. Shaul was claimed first. An old woman with a hump in her back, came over. She was bundled up in several wool scarves, wearing a heavy coat and hat and carrying a thick blanket She claimed him by his number, showing him her matching card.

  “My name is Mrs. Barlow. Come on now.” She wrapped the blanket around Shaul’s shoulders. “I was right. You didn’t have a coat warm enough for the English winters. Well, never mind. For now, this blanket will do.”

  Shaul looked at Gilde and Elias. “I don’t know how we will find each other,” he said.

  Gilde shrugged, holding back the tears. Another familiar face gone from her life in a matter of seconds.

  Shaul hugged Gilde, then he hugged Elias, who, surprising Gilde, allowed Shaul to hug him.

  “Goodbye. I hope we’ll see each other again.”

  Gilde bit her lower lip as Shaul was led away. She glanced over at Elias. He nodded reassuringly, but she saw the sadness in his eyes.

  Gilde was next. Awkwardly she hugged Elias. He pinched her cheek. “It’s gonna be fine,” he said with a smile she didn’t trust to be sincere.

  “How will I ever find you again?” she said, feeling as if she had said far too many goodbyes since that terrible night when her little neighborhood had been brutalized.

  “I’ll find you, Gilde. Don’t you worry, we’ll be back home in Germany in no time. Now you go ahead and be a good girl. All right?”

  He sounded so much older, so mature that it made her feel even more lost.

  “I’m afraid, Elias. I don’t want to go home with these people. I don’t know them.”

  “You have to go home with them, Gilde. You have to try and make the best of it. Before you know it the three of us will be back together. Just like The Three Musketeers, right? You, me, and Shaul.”

  “I hated that book.” She looked away.

  “Gilde, please?”

  She hugged him again. “Be careful, Elias. Take good care of yourself. And please, don’t forget to find a way to come back and see me.”

  “Come on, Gilde, I could never forget you. I’ll find you. You’ll see.” The mother who was taking Gilde in to live with her family gently led her away. Quickly she glanced back and saw Elias quickly wipe a tear from his cheek with the back of his hand.

  As she followed her new family, Gilde put her hand in her pocket and wrapped her fingers around the Star of David necklace that Alina had given her. She thought of her sister’s face and felt a deep emptiness in the depths of her soul.

  The family who offered Gilde shelter had the surname of
Kendall. They had two daughters. Elizabeth, the older girl, was married and lived in Scotland with her husband. The other, Jane, was fourteen years old, two years older than Gilde. George Kendall, the father, was a dentist in London. He’d come from a long line of dentists and had a full and busy practice. The Kendalls weren’t rich, but they were comfortable. Mrs. Kendall, Rosemary, was active in her church and in charity groups and well known amongst her peers for kindness and generosity. She was always bringing a casserole to a new mother or helping to make the arrangements for a neighbor’s funeral. So it had come as no surprise to George when his wife had come to him and suggested that they take in a Jewish child who was in danger in Germany. George Kendall adored his wife and so he indulged her. He was far too busy to tend to the business of the house; that was up to Rosemary. His wife had wanted the little Jewish girl from Germany and he’d readily agreed. At first Gilde was not friendly with the family. She felt awkward and out of place. All she wanted was to be left alone. The family tried to make her feel welcome, but although she was polite, she found it hard to be warm. They spoke English and very little German, which made communication difficult. Gilde knew how hard they were trying and she understood the magnitude of kindness they were bestowing upon her. In fact she was constantly reminded of how her sister and all of the staff at the orphanage made it clear to her just how fortunate she was to escape Germany and to have been taken in by a family in Britain. The Kendalls had opened their home and their hearts to her, a stranger, and a Jew. She was grateful. But she didn’t want to be in Britain. Gilde wanted to go home to be with her sister, to await her parents’ return.

  It was Jane who was finally able to reach Gilde. They were close in age, and an understanding began to grow between them. Since they didn’t have a common language, Jane, who had always been an amateur artist, began to draw pictures to communicate with her new houseguest. Gilde began to draw crude illustrations to further the correspondence. From there they began to share words in their respective languages. Gilde was enrolled in school, but she was unable to understand the language in her classes and none of the teachers were able to communicate effectively with her. Her marks in school suffered and she was terribly melancholy. Jane was her only friend, and although Jane tried to bring Gilde into her circle of friends,, Gilde was having a hard time fitting in.

  In the morning, the girls ate porridge and tea with milk. Gilde missed the hot cocoa that they sometimes served at the orphanage, but she tried to remember to be grateful to the Kendalls for their sacrifice of sharing their home with her. Jane’s kindness and patience wore Gilde’s resistance down. It was a frigid winter. Gilde and Jane watched the other children through the picture window in the living room. The children were outside skating, and although Jane had given up skating several years earlier, she took Gilde outside. She brought two pairs of skates, an old pair of hers and one that had belonged to her sister. They joined a group of children who were outside enjoying the winter and spent the better part of the day slipping and sliding on the ice. They communicated through laughter, and by that evening Gilde and Jane had become good friends. Although because of the two-year difference in their ages, they went to separate schools, they walked for several blocks together each morning before they separated. While Gilde and Jane were together, Gilde felt comfortable, but as soon as she saw Jane disappear around the corner, she felt alone and began to think about her family. Schoolwork was difficult for Gilde because she was just learning English and everyone spoke so fast. But, when she joined the drama club, Gilde found a home at school. Since she was a child she loved to be on the stage, singing and dancing. Now that she had a reason to learn the language, it was coming more quickly to her. Drama club was fun; however, unlike in Germany, here in Britain she was not the star player. In fact, she was more in the background with the techs. It was too hard to understand her broken English for the director to cast her in a role. Still, she was making friends, finding her way in her new home. On Saturdays when Jane babysat for the neighbor’s children, she took Gilde with her and even shared her pay with Gilde. At first, living with a non-Jewish family was strange for Gilde. Growing up, the Margolises were not religious, but they’d always kept the Sabbath. They had not adhered to all of the Jewish laws, like complete rest to the point of not flipping a light switch on Saturday. But every Friday evening, Michal made a special dinner and the family lit the Sabbath candles. So, it took Gilde several weeks to get used to Friday nights not being a special time of family celebration. On Sundays Gilde went to church with the Kendalls. They didn’t force her to go, but Jane went and the girls had become inseparable. It was fun to get dressed up for church, even if her clothes were Jane’s hand-me-downs, and Gilde loved the organ music and the singing. She still missed her parents and her sister, but she was settling in, and every day she was becoming more at ease in her new home. At first, she was angry with Alina for forcing her to go to England. And even though she missed her sister, it took her almost a month to send her first letter to Alina letting her know that she had finally begun to adjust to her surroundings. When she’d first met them, Jane’s friends had teased Gilde because of her accent. But as time passed, and mostly because of Jane, Gilde was accepted into a group of girls who loved American movie stars and tried like mad to get their hands on pictures of them from American magazines. These were Jane’s good friends and because of Jane they accepted Gilde.

  CHAPTER 3

  Elias

  Elias lay naked on the rug beside his young female teacher, Mary Kent. Their affair had been going on for four months now. It began three weeks after Elias attended his first class with Mrs. Kent. She’d asked him to stay after school and help her mark papers. Elias, who had never been a good student, and wasn’t much interested in academics anyway, just shrugged. “Sure,” he’d said. Although he had never had sex, he had an instinctive feeling that Mrs. Kent was attracted to him, and the idea excited him. The girls his own age had a way of leading a fellow on, making him believe that he might score and then at the last minute, bam, they’d just pull the rug out and say “No, I can’t do this. We can’t go this far.” It drove him crazy. At almost fifteen, his hormones had begun to go crazy. And the way he looked turned the heads of all of his female classmates. Elias was tall, well built, and handsome, with dark hair and strong features. From his appearance, one would think he was in his early twenties. He sat in the classroom with his arms folded across his chest, never opening his book or participating in class discussions. Instead he just sat there with his long legs stretched out in front of him and watched Mary Kent. His eyes scanned her body, and when their eyes met, her face turned red and she had to look away. But, he knew that she saw and felt his desire, and he also knew that he had an invisible rope around her and he was pulling her towards him. Once she’d asked him a question during a class lecture, and he had the audacity to say right in front of the rest of the class, “Sorry, I wasn’t listening. I was looking at you.”

  She hadn’t expected that answer from a student, and her face turned scarlet with embarrassment. The teacher in her knew she should send him to the headmaster. But, as a woman she couldn’t. Mary had been taken with his cocky arrogance from the moment he walked into her classroom. And the way he looked at her sent shivers up her thighs. In the two years since she’d graduated from university and began teaching, she had never been attracted to a student before. It was against every rule, but she couldn’t control herself. Elias was something special. He was a mixture of anger and gratitude. He oozed sexuality, but at his age it was hard to believe that he could be the great lover that his body said he was. And that accent, that accent when he said her name sent shockwaves through her nerve endings. At first Mary fought her attraction to the boy. After all, Elias was seven years her junior and really just a teenager. But more importantly, Mary had gotten married only a year before she met Elias. And until all of these strange feelings for Elias had risen in Mary, she thought her marriage was a good choice. Her husband, Jack, was a qui
et intellectual. A kind and gentle man but unfortunately, unemotional and without much passion. But when she weighed the pros and cons about Jack, she decided to marry him because they shared the same love of teaching, and he offered friendship and stability. He taught history. It had all begun between them when they met in the teachers lounge at school. Then a few months after they started dating, Jack was offered a job at another school where he got a better position with a pay raise. One night when they were having dinner at an Italian restaurant he told Mary about his job offer and that he planned to move. She wished him well and told him that she’d miss him. He’d looked down at the tablecloth and said that he cared for her, and it was then that he proposed. It wasn’t a romantic proposal. He’d explained, in a rather practical way, that he thought they would make a good pair.. But Mary had married him because she was afraid that the years were passing quickly and she might end up an old maid. Since she was a young girl, Mary’s parents had made it clear to her that she was not beautiful. Of course, she did the best she could to be as attractive as possible. Her clothes were always clean and pressed. Her hair was neat and styled. Anyone who met her would have said she was pleasant to look at but not striking in any way. This knowledge of being less than pretty had weighed on Mary’s mind her entire life.

  Then Elias, who was just a boy, had come along and changed everything.

  The whole thing had begun on an afternoon four months earlier. Mary’s mind drifted back to that day. Elias had gotten into a fight during class. A well-known bully, George Seaword, who most of the boys in class followed out of fear, began calling Elias “The German.” George made fun of Elias’s accent and broken English. At first, Elias ignored the boy, but when Seaword stuck his foot out and tripped Elias as they were coming into class after lunch, Elias caught himself before he fell. Then without another word he turned around and punched Seaword in the face. Seaword was sitting in his desk, but the punch was so hard that the desk fell back into the student’s desk behind him. Seaword got up. He put his hand to his nose and felt the blood. Looking at his hand and seeing red, Seaword reared back and took a shot at Elias, who was too quick for him. Growing up in an orphanage, Elias was well seasoned in street fighting. Blocking Seaword’s punch with his left forearm, Elias swung a hard right directly into George’s stomach, knocking him down. Seaword was having trouble catching his breath as he lay on the floor. The blood from his nose was running down his cheek. Then Elias got on top of the bully and held him down in a choke hold with his arm across his neck.