“Now, children, I want you to lie down in the bed and stay there no matter what happens. I will tell you to get up if you have to. Otherwise, you are not to move.”
“Not even for the bathroom?” Tomas piped up, a look of concern on his face.
“No, Tomas darling, not even for that. We need you to be little soldiers. Can you do that and obey the order to stay in bed? The girls need you to protect them, as you are the man.”
Heinz watched, in amusement, as his younger brother’s chest pushed out. Tomas took Ruth’s hand and led the girl to the bedroom as if she was younger and not almost six months older. Rachel looked at her mama before she took Liesl with her.
“Now Heinz,” Mrs. Bernstein turned to him.
“I’m not sheltering in the bedroom.”
Mrs. Bernstein gave him a look that would have caused Hitler to rattle in his boots. He was about to apologize when the banging started on the door.
“Open up, you filthy vermin. Open or we will bash the door in.”
Mrs. Bernstein moved toward the door but Trudi put her hand out. “This is my home. I will answer the door. You take a seat and let’s try to be as civilized as possible with these animals.”
Trudi took a deep breath before she opened the door, just as a solider attempted to break it down.
“Gentlemen. How can I help you?”
Heinz watched, as the men stopped, as if taken by surprise to be greeted with such politeness. Then an officer stepped forward.
“Out of my way. We are looking for Beck. He is to come with us immediately.”
“My husband isn’t here. As you can see it is only us ladies and the children. You are welcome to search the property.” Trudi stood, straight as an arrow, still pretending that it was her choice to invite them in. It seemed like it was working too. The men lost the earlier swagger they had.
The officer directed two of the men to search. Heinz would have been amused in other circumstances as the two men took apart everything in the room. How they expected a grown man to hide inside a cushion was beyond him? But then it was just an excuse to pull apart the cushions and other furnishings. When they got to the children’s room the screaming made them hesitate.
“Shut those kids up, or we will.”
Trudi rushed to the room to comfort the children, with Mrs. Bernstein following suit but she was stopped.
“You don’t live here?” The officer grabbed Mrs. Bernstein roughly by the arm.
She looked at the hand on her arm and then into the man’s face.
“Unhand me you lout. I am visiting a friend. Since when is that against the law.”
Heinz held his breath. The man’s face twisted in anger before he drew his arm back and slapped Mrs. Bernstein across the face, knocking her to the floor.
“It’s late and after curfew. Your sort shouldn’t be on the streets.”
“I wasn’t out on the street. I live…” but whatever she was going to say next was drowned out by a second slap. Heinz had seen enough. He stepped forward and grabbed the man’s arm just as he was about to deliver a third slap.
“Did your mother bring you up to hit women, you oaf? Let’s see how you like to be hit.” With that, Heinz delivered a punch of his own, his hand connecting with the man’s right cheekbone.
His moment of satisfaction was all too brief, pain exploding over his shoulder, as something heavy came down on his right side. Then a boot kicked him in the ribs, as he lay on the floor. Darkness, mercifully descended, just as another kick was delivered. He dimly heard Trudi screaming to leave him alone, he was just a child and didn’t deserve to be treated that way and then he heard and felt nothing.
4
“Water, please water.” His mouth was dry, his throat all scratchy. When he raised his head, his body exploded in pain. He groaned and couldn’t bear to move but his need for water superseded everything else.
“Heinz, try not to move. You’ve been hurt.”
He knew that. But he didn’t know where he was, only the smell and sense of overcrowding meant it wasn’t home or even a hospital. The floor under his bum was hard and freezing. He didn’t care, the need for liquid was all-consuming.
Wait, he recognized the voice. “Papa.” He’d help him. “Water, water,” he repeated, hoping his father would help him out of his misery. His wish was granted, as a few trickles of liquid spilled into his mouth, most of it escaping, as it dribbled down his chin. He opened his eyes, quickly closing them again, as the light hurt.
“Heinz, wake up son. You need to sit up. If you are still lying down when they come back, they’ll take you to the hospital. We can’t be separated.”
Where were they? He tried to do as Papa said, his father’s arms around him but it was too sore. He couldn’t move his leg.
“Heinz, try harder. I know it’s painful but you have to try. I can’t send my son to his death.”
Why would going to the hospital make him die? Why wasn’t he at home? None of this made sense. He struggled to sit up, his father and someone else helping him. Then he passed out again.
He heard the noise of boots. Someone was coming. Were they going to help him? Tension rose around him, as the men in the room seemed to hold their breath. The boots were making them anxious. Heinz was too tired to make sense of anything. He tried to stay asleep, keep his eyes closed but someone else had a different idea. They dragged him
