Someone Named Eva (2 page)

"I would like to be a movie actress someday," Hana said, sighing.

"You're not pretty enough," Ruzha said with her usual cutting tone.

"That's not nice," said Zelenka.

"Well, it's true," Ruzha continued. "And you have to be able to read and memorize lines to be a movie actress."

Hana's face reddened with embarrassment. Everyone knew she had struggled for a long time with learning to read.

Zelenka tried to help Hana by changing the subject. "I like the flowers in your hair, Milada."

Ruzha rolled her eyes but said nothing more.

"Thank you." I touched the small wildflowers woven into my braid. "Mama and Babichka put them in."

Terezie nodded in agreement, but I saw a look of longing in her eyes. She had always been envious of my straight blond hair. Hers was deep brown and wildly curly and unruly. Of the two of us, she was the one to worry about her hair and her looks and when she would be old enough to wear make-up. I had never cared much for dressing up or styling my hair, and I had complained loudly when Mama and Babichka had insisted on putting it in a fancy braid for the party.

Our conversation was interrupted by Mama. "Ruzha, your brother is here for you."

I looked up to see Ruzha's brother, Karel, at the edge of our yard. He looked uncomfortable, standing with his hands shoved into his pockets and shuffling from foot to foot.

"You don't need to leave right away, do you?" Mama asked as she handed him a slice of dessert.

"Thank you," he mumbled. He ate quickly, not speaking to Jaro or Terezie's brothers or even to Ruzha. Ruzha seemed even more uncomfortable with Karel there, and she too said nothing as we all sat quietly finishing our dessert.

"Ruzha. Come," Karel said gruffly when he was done eating.

Ruzha got up, and without even saying good-bye, they both left. Although I would never have said anything out loud, I was secretly glad she wasn't staying for the rest of the party. She had already been mean to Hana. I didn't want her ruining anything else.

After dessert, everyone, adults and children, divided into two teams to play our annual game of tug-of-war. This, I knew, would be followed by a game of my choice, since it was my birthday.

"Tag," I said, when it was time to pick a new game. "I choose tag!"

"Well, of course. What other game would it be?" Terezie teased. I was the fastest runner in my class, and I loved any game that involved speed.

We played many rounds of tag until the adults tired and went inside the house. Zelenka, Hana, Terezie, and I kept running around the yard, laughing and giggling as Jaro and Terezie's brothers chased us. Finally, even we grew tired and Mama declared the party over. Zelenka and Hana left first, followed by Terezie and her family. I helped Mama carry the plates and silverware into the kitchen, but she told me I didn't have to wash them since it was my birthday.

When it began to grow dark, Babichka and I sat together on the front steps. I had pulled my hair out of its braid, and it hung loose and long against my shoulders. Babichka sat on the step above me, gently brushing my hair as she did sometimes. I loved the feel of her hands and the soothing motion of the brush.

Stars had begun to appear, one by one, in the sky. I looked up, and Babichka followed my gaze. "Tonight you and your papa should try your new birthday gift and get a closer look at those stars."

"Yes," I answered. I could tell it was going to be a clear night, a good night for stargazing, with or without a telescope. My grandmother was the one who had taught me about stars and constellations, and the stories behind them. She was an expert on stars and known throughout our village as a gifted storyteller. We had spent many nights on the porch looking up at the sky together. I hoped to be just like her someday. I loved that we already shared the same name: I had been named Milada after Babichka, who had been named after her mother.

"Look, Babichka. It's Ursa Minor," I said, raising my arm and tracing the stars that formed the shape of a small water dipper.

"Yes, Milada." She nodded, looking where I pointed. "And the star, at the very end, do you remember what it's called?"

With my finger I followed the fainter stars until I reached the brightest one at the end. "Of course. It's Polaris," I said. Babichka and I had talked many times about this star.

"Yes." Babichka nodded again. "The North Star—the one star that is always in the true northern part of the sky."

Babichka had taught me that this star was also special because it was always visible in the sky, no matter what the season. At first I hadn't believed her. I knew that constellations moved in the sky season by season and that some even disappeared temporarily. But Babichka had shown me, patiently pointing out the North Star each season for a whole year, and I had realized she was right.

"Sailors used this star to help them find their way across the sea and to help them find their way back home from long voyages," Babichka said.

I nodded, thinking of some of the stories she had told me about sailors and the stars. "Remember, Milada," she said, putting her brush down and turning my face up to look at hers. "No matter where you are, if you can see the North Star, you can find your way. Even if you're lost. It will always be there to help you find your way home."

"Yes, Babichka," I said, nodding, "I know."

She looked at me a few seconds longer, then took the brush up again and began pulling it through my hair, humming softly. I nestled in closer to her, thinking about the North Star and constellations, and we sat for a long while without talking as the light faded around us.

***

Once it was dark, Papa and I left to try my new telescope. The sky stayed clear as we reached the hill where we usually looked at stars. I shook with excitement as Papa showed me how to adjust the dials. I had wanted a telescope since I had turned five, and now I had one.

First I looked carefully at the night sky with my own eyes. Then I looked through the lens, amazed to see the way the stars and planets changed when seen through the telescope.

"Do you want to look?" I asked Papa, who was sitting on the ground next to me.

"No, no. You go ahead. I'm happy just to sit. I have a long day in the fields tomorrow."

Papa had been a farmer his whole life, and he worked hard. He was proud of what he did and proud that his father and his grandfather had been farmers too. Often he told me that a person must be proud of the things he chooses to do.

I scanned the sky for the North Star, thinking about what Babichka had told me. Papa and I sat in silence for a while; then I asked the question I had been wanting to ask for several hours.

"Papa," I began.

"Yes?" he said, turning toward me.

"When will Hitler's Nazis leave?" I had been unable to stop thinking about this since hearing the adults talk at my party.

"Oh, Milada. This is nothing for you to worry about. Especially on your birthday."

"But they've been here for three years, and Terezie's mama said once that she doesn't think President Bane0161 is coming back."

I was eight when the Nazis came. A week after their arrival we had visited Mama's cousin in Prague, and I had seen the victory parade the Nazis held for Hitler. The soldiers had marched by fiercely, wearing tall black boots and black swastikas on their uniforms. We had been required to attend, and everyone had been forced to raise their right arm and say,"Heil Hitler!"

Later, a law had been passed that all Jewish people would have to wear a six-pointed yellow star on their clothes. I had been glad that no one I knew was Jewish and that I would not have to be marked this way. But remembering that parade still made me shiver.

"Everything is going to work out," Papa reassured me. "We just need to stay together as a family and a town, and this will pass. It will." Papa ruffled my hair. "I promise."

I nodded and looked back up at the sky, comforted by my father's words. I knew he wouldn't say something that he didn't believe to be true. Things would work out. He had promised.

A few weeks after my birthday, Terezie and I got permission to stay up late, look at stars, and plan her upcoming party.

The night was warm and clear, and it seemed that every star in the universe could be seen. I showed Terezie how to use the telescope, and after looking through it for a while, we lay down on the grass to talk.

"I want dessert too, of course," Terezie said when we began to talk about the food for her party. "But I'd really like a cake—a cake with frosting. I don't know if that will be possible with so little sugar, but..." She stopped talking when Jaroslav suddenly appeared.

"Don't let me interrupt your dreams of sugar and cakes," he said with a smile. "I just came outside to enjoy the night air."

"Go away, Jaro. We're talking about Terezie's birthday." Despite how nice he had been to me at my party, he could still be a pest.

"No, Milada, let him stay." Even though I couldn't see in the dark, I knew Terezie was blushing. It was no secret she had a crush on Jaroslav.

He sat on the grass quietly as we finished planning. By then it was late, so Terezie and I said good-bye. After she left, I went to bed and fell asleep, thinking about stars and birthday parties.

***

A few hours later I was awakened by a loud, angry pounding on our front door that sent a sickening feeling down into my stomach. Something was very wrong.

Suddenly, the door banged open and the pounding was replaced by the sounds of heavy boots, barking dogs, and fierce shouting in German. Throwing my covers aside, I jumped out of bed and raced downstairs to find our living room filled with Nazi soldiers.

"Papa!" I cried. He held out a hand to stop me from coming any farther.

I felt my whole body shaking.
Nazis.
Up close they were even more frightening than when I had seen them in Prague.

And now they were in our living room.

Jaro stood quietly next to Babichka, with an arm around her shoulders. In the other room I could hear Mama taking Anechka out of her crib.

I looked from Jaro to the Nazis. The soldiers seemed almost as young as my brother, and a few of them swayed on wobbly legs. The reek of stale whiskey hung in the air.

The Nazi nearest me barked a command in German, pointing upstairs with his gun.

"Go upstairs to your room, Milada," Mama said as she entered the room with Anechka in her arms. "They are saying we must leave the house. Get dressed and take some of your things. Pack enough for three days." I couldn't understand the soldier's words, just the fear he was causing, but Mama understood German.

I turned to go upstairs, trying to get my legs to move, and suddenly the soldiers and dogs were gone. They had left the front door open, and silence stood in their place.

In school Terezie and I had once read a poem about "loud silence," and we had laughed at what the author had written. How could silence be loud? But that night, right after the Nazis left, a loud silence was what stayed behind in our house, as if it were a real thing, just as in the poem. Everything was completely quiet, but the terrifying presence of the soldiers lingered behind.

Jaro was the first to speak. "Why are they here?" He looked from Mama to Papa, then back to Papa again. "What's going on?"

"We are being arrested and taken for interrogation." Papa's voice was quiet.

"What? Why? I don't—" Jaro began, but Papa interrupted.

"I don't know, Jaro. Just follow their orders and it will get sorted out. Now pack. Go."

I dressed quickly, still not believing that Nazis had actually been in our living room and that I was packing to leave my home.

I put some clothes into a bag and tucked Mrs. Doll under one arm, even though I knew I was too old for her. Then I gently lifted my telescope down from the shelf. It would come with me wherever I went.

Downstairs, Anechka rested quietly in Mama's arms. Papa was holding a suitcase in one hand and Mama's hand in the other. Jaro stood with his traveling bag too, and a stubborn look on his face. Babichka carried nothing other than the small framed wedding picture of herself and Grandfather, who had been dead many years, and her crystal rosary beads.

I stared at her, wondering where her bag was. Why didn't she have her silver candlesticks or her crucifix? Where was her hand-stitched shawl?

She pulled me to her and grasped my hand in hers. Gently, she pressed her garnet pin into my palm. It had always been my favorite. It was shaped like a star, with tiny red stones around it that twinkled up at me in the light. I shook my head and tried to give it back.

"No, Milada." She took it out of my hand and pinned it on the inside of my blouse, her hands trembling slightly. "You must keep this and remember," she whispered, bending close to my ear. "Remember who you are, Milada. Remember where you are from. Always."

I opened my mouth to protest further.

"Shh, little one. Don't say anything. Shh." She put a finger to my lips and ran a hand through my hair.

"All right," Papa said, turning off the living-room light and turning on the porch light. "All right," he repeated, and together the six of us left our house.

Two Nazis waited in the yard with dogs. The porch light spilled across their faces, changing their features so it looked as if they were wearing masks.

One guard used his gun to direct Babichka and me to the right side of the house. The other guard grabbed Papa roughly and pulled him from Mama. I watched as Mama's and Papa's intertwined hands stretched and stretched, until at last they had to let go and Papa, his eyes filled with tears, was pulled away from Mama.

"I love you, Antonín!" Mama cried.

"I love you, Jana!" Papa's voice cracked.

The other Nazi grabbed Jaro by the arm and shoved him behind Papa, away from where Mama, Babichka, and I were standing. Jaro looked at us, blowing Mama and Babichka a kiss and winking at me. I felt myself being pushed farther and farther away from Papa and Jaro. I opened my mouth to say something, but no words came out. I could only watch them being led away, until Mama turned me in the direction the Nazis' guns pointed.