Page 51 of The Nanny Outside the Gates

FORTY-THREE

HALINA

I’m already out of breath from my racing pulse and I haven’t made it to the weeping willow tree where Rosalie and Celina are waiting for me to go pick up the children from school.

The wheels of the carriage crackle over the gravel as I approach the others, and they’re watching me as if waiting for me to tell them something.

Maybe it’s my guilt, knowing I have a chance to leave, and they don’t.

“You’re paler than a bedsheet,” Celina says. “Are you all right?”

I shake my head and swallow hard. Neither of them pushes me for an answer, knowing we’re too close to the SS houses and need to move away from the street before I say any more.

“What’s happening?” Rosalie asks as we turn onto the road lined by just trees.

“I’m not sure where to start,” I say, my words phlegmy and sticking to my throat. “There’s something I haven’t told you.”

“Well, you’re making me nervous now,” Rosalie says.

“What is it? You can trust us,” Celina adds.

What if they don’t trust me after I tell them what’s about to happen?

I’m leaving them behind. We all know it’s each person for themselves in a time of war, but it doesn’t diminish the fact that I’ve always been a person who helps others.

Without certain life connections, like a family, it’s easier to put other people first and worry less about myself—or so I’ve come to realize.

“I found myself in an impossible predicament with Frau Sch?fer. Before I go on, you should know her life choices and current situation is not one I believe she planned for but rather ended up within. And while I won’t defend or forgive her actions, I do believe the woman is scared for her life and the life of her children. ”

Celina stops walking, stops pushing the carriage. “What predicament? What happened?” Rosalie stops as well and turns to face me, waiting for me to go on.

“Frau Sch?fer is not actually pregnant. It’s an act, for everyone around her, including her husband and children. I walked in on her adjusting the fake belly she’s had tied around her mid-section.”

By the look of their paling faces, I assume the three of us must look similar now. “Dear God. For what reason would she do something like that?” Celina asks.

“I don’t know much about the officers you live with or the relationships between them and their wives, but Officer Sch?fer is brutal, aggressive, irate, and cruel to his family.

From what I gather, he wants as many children as possible to support the Aryan ideology, specifically a boy now, but Frau Sch?fer suffered from secondary infertility after Marlene’s birth due to complications post-delivery.

I think—no, I know—Flora was taken from a Jewish mother at Auschwitz. ”

Both Rosalie and Celina slowly drop their gazes to Flora, despondence settling into their expressions. Rosalie lifts her hand to her mouth and Celina presses her palm to her chest. “What—I’m afraid to know what you’re planning to do…” Celina utters.

“I made an agreement with Frau Sch?fer,” I say, peering over my shoulder to make sure no one is coming up behind us.

“With Gavriel returning in his dire state today, I’m not sure he’ll make it another night in the prison.

” His trembling hands, the bruises. He’s so weak and frail from starving and torture—the grim look in his eyes is etched in my mind like bleeding ink on paper.

“I must act swiftly. I told her that she needs to find a way for us to escape tonight. If not, I threatened to inform her husband of all the lies she’s hiding. It would ruin her life.”

“Are you mad?” Rosalie asks. “You can’t make a threat like that to the wife of an SS officer.

She’ll find a way to have you killed before you could even open your mouth to Officer Sch?fer.

What were you thinking? And the officers’ dinner party is tonight, being hosted in the Sch?fers’ backyard.

We’re all supposed to be there, working. ”

Celina reaches her hand out and places it on my shoulder. “Oh, sweetheart,” she says.

“Ada is a weak, battered woman. She knows how to growl but I’m not sure she has teeth sharp enough to bite.

And, I don’t have a choice. This plan might be Gavriel’s only chance of survival, and not just his, but mine too…

Officer Sch?fer has been eagerly searching for my birth records and appears to have acquired them.

Once he gets his hands on them, he’ll find out I’m a born Jew, something I didn’t know myself until a few weeks ago. ”

“You’re Jewish?” Celina whispers.

“Yes, I am,” I tell her, pressing a smile into the corners of my lips. I’ve never wanted anything more: to finally know who I am and where I came from. Now I do.

Celina’s hand is still clutched around my shoulder and her grip tightens.

She opens her mouth to speak but hesitates or stumbles on the words forming on her tongue.

“I’m—” she says, pausing to clear her throat.

Her nails pinch my flesh a bit before she continues speaking.

“I’m Jewish too,” she finally says, her eyes bulging with fear as if I might judge her.

Whatever reaction she sees on my face, it’s nothing more than shock.

“But I’ve done things to hide any traces of the truth…

forged papers, an erased past—no history.

I’m me in the moment, and that’s all I can be. ”

“We need to continue walking or we’ll be late for the children,” Rosalie says, her voice strained and her eyes wide.

The three of us continue in silence, behind the quiet mutter of Celina’s two young ones.

“How did you end up here of all places?” I ask Celina.

“I was in the process of joining a convent to solidify the masking of my identity—sinful, I know. Upon entering the convent as a postulant, my lack of knowledge of the Catholic faith, despite my desperate attempt to learn all I could in a short period, became obvious to the others, and I was shortly thereafter released from the convent. The mother was kind enough to let me go in private, but it turned out SS Officer Drexel happened to be standing nearby in the church gardens—close enough to overhear my somber release. Needless to say, I didn’t have much say in what took place after that.

I’m just grateful the truth about my Jewish faith is still unknown to them.

I’m sure I would have been sent directly to Auschwitz rather than given a labor position at his home. ”

I rest my hand on Celina’s back. “We all do what we can to survive.”

“Our lives aren’t so much different from each other’s,” Rosalie adds. “We try to find hope in the grimmest of places, never knowing how we’ll end up, but it’s all we can do to get by, right?”

“I’m sure neither of you will think fondly of me if I manage to get away. If I could take you with me?—”

“Don’t think like that,” Celina says. “We’re all in a save-who-you-can situation, and sometimes it’s only ourselves, and sometimes another person who needs help becomes lucky in the process, but we all need to find our way, and you shouldn’t feel remorseful about that.”

This isn’t who I am. I will always feel remorse if I live long enough to have such a feeling. “I do hope someday we’ll find each other again but in different circumstances, God willing,” I say.

“We can all pray for such a day,” Rosalie says, kindness and warmth emanating from her eyes. “You’re a good soul, Halina. Never forget that.”

I don’t think the guilt will subside and I’m sure once the two of them have a chance to mull over this conversation more, they might feel differently about me.

It isn’t fair that they need to remain here as servants.

Though I shouldn’t think that way until I see the light of day on the other side of what might or might not come to be.

“If you are taking Gavriel with you, what do you suppose will happen to Benson, Rueben, and Kasia, the three other Auschwitz prisoners still working in our homes?” I’m sure they’ve come to know Benson and Rueben like I have Gavriel as each of them come and go from duties within the houses they work in.

This thought has already crossed my mind after what I witnessed with Bea and Adam. “Keeping them safe will be part of my bargain with Frau Sch?fer,” I tell them, praying my plan will work. The stakes are high, and I feel like I’m walking across a minefield.

With the last reveal of my fragile plan, we approach the school, guarded by Nazis, surrounded by blood red flags, and the dark world the children are being transitioned into daily.

As if on cue, Flora begins to cry. It isn’t a cry of hunger, it’s the kind of cry I don’t think she has a real reason for, or maybe because something is broken inside of her. I understand her pain.

I lift her out of her carriage and prop her up on my hip. She places the side of her head to my chest and clutches the fabric of my dress within her tiny grip, gasping for relief and air between her stuttering sobs.

The children spill out of the school, not with thrill or delight, but in a strict marching line that branches out once they’re through the guarded gates.

It’s been days since Marlene has greeted me with a smile, but she still wraps her arms around my waist and gives me a quiet embrace.

Isla takes the carriage from my hand and turns it around to begin the walk home.

“How was school today?” I ask.

“Fine,” Isla says.

“I don’t like school,” Marlene says.

“No one does, stupid,” Konrad adds, tossing his knapsack at Celina’s feet.

“He’s becoming his father,” Celina whispers. “How charming.”

“Isla, wait a moment, please,” I say, turning around to face Konrad. “You’re going to lose your knapsack and get yourself into trouble later. I don’t think that’s a very wise idea,” I say, folding my arms over my chest.

“She’ll take it,” Konrad says, pointing at Celina.

“Her hands are already full, as I’m sure you can see. I’m afraid if you don’t take it, it will remain where it is.”

Celina looks like she might become ill, but she needs to set some boundaries. This child will grow into a man and act much worse than he is now.

The blonde-haired boy who is about a year away from being my height sneers at me with apparent anger. I stare back, telling myself he’s still a child. If I can spare Celina the trouble of caring for a Nazi in training, I will.

The stare between me and this rude child breaks and he swats his hand for the shoulder strap of his bag and trudges off ahead of the rest of us.

“No one has ever spoken to him that way,” Celina whispers.

“These children are being taught to hate when we were all born to love. There is still a chance for them,” I say. I must believe that. If I don’t, there might be no hope for the future of humanity.