The Butterfly and the Violin (29 page)

“Are they expecting us?”

“Yes. Elsa will be,” Adele whispered, and nudged her feet down the stairs in the dark. “It’s been more than two months since my last visit. I’m overdue.”

They came to the door at the bottom of the stairs and were met with a cold silence. Water dripped from somewhere in the recesses of the dark basement. Adele noticed that Vladimir kept checking over his shoulder to make sure they weren’t followed. How he could see anything in the dark, she wasn’t sure.

She tapped on the door, six times in succession with a break in the middle, the code they’d decided some time ago would only be for her.

There was a slight rustle on the other side of the door and it slowly cracked open.

A tall man with kind eyes and thinning hair poked his head into the stairway. The flicker of the lighter illuminated his face. He looked to Adele and inclined his head to her, greeting without words.

“Abram,” she whispered. “I’ve brought a friend. This is Vladimir. He’s here to help.”

Vladimir stood at Adele’s back but didn’t speak. He didn’t make a move to step forward or offer the basket.

“I have spoken with Elsa. We do not think it safe to open the door any longer,” Abram whispered, his voice gravelly, as though he needed to cough but wouldn’t. “There is too much risk.”

“But we’ve brought food,” she offered, holding out the basket with bread and fish. “For you and the children. Are they well?”

He shook his head.

“We’ve heard the Gestapo at night.” He looked to the ceiling with tired eyes. “They’ve been patrolling. They’ve not found the
pantry, but they’ve been in the warehouse. Searching. Tearing down walls.”

“But how could they know?”

Abram shook his head and lowered his voice to a cryptic whisper. “There were rumors that there were Jews hiding in this part of the city before we went into hiding. The brave ones left more than a year ago.”

Adele shook her head. “I think it’s the brave ones who stayed,” she said, taking the basket from Vladimir to offer to the family. “May we come in?”

He looked to the ceiling again, then nodded. “For a moment only.”

Adele walked into the room, finding Elsa standing in the corner. When they connected eyes, her shoulders relaxed and she stepped forward to embrace her in a hug.

“Adele.” She offered an embattled smile, welcoming her. “I’m so glad you’ve come.”

Vladimir walked in behind her and, after bolting the door closed, began looking over the room from floor to ceiling. He must have been as concerned as she was, for the living conditions were deplorable.

Their living quarters were lit only by moonlight from a shutup ventilation window high up on the wall and a small fire lit in the woodstove in the corner. There was a brick wall along the length of the room, with large pipes and ducts that gathered dust along the ceiling. Water leaked somewhere in the corner of the room, and the air in the room hung thick with the smell of mold. There were threadbare linens hanging from a rope fastened to a pipe from one end to the other. There was a single rocking chair and a small table, with dishes and a tub for washing, pushed up against the far wall. Stacks of books created tiny mountains on top of a small bookshelf in the far corner of the room.

Adele could see the heads of the children, the older Sophie
and her little brother, Eitan, bundled up in their blankets in a bed that was squeezed up in the corner closest to the stove. The gentle cadence of their undisturbed breathing told her they were asleep.

Vladimir stepped up to address Abram, concern evident on his face.

“It’s not safe to be burning wood,” he whispered, and walked over to kneel in front of the stove. He pointed up to the window set high on the wall. “The smoke. Someone will see it.”

Abram shook his head and pointed to where the pipe exited through the ceiling. “The flue system is adjoined with the apartment building behind the warehouse. This used to be the foreman’s private quarters when the warehouse was in operation.”

“Is that building in use?”

“Yes. It is,” Abram confirmed, nodding.

“And the window? Won’t someone see the light?”

“I only burn it on the very cold days. The children—they’ve not been well. Eitan has a cough,” Elsa answered, stepping up to her husband’s side. She swallowed hard over the emotion that had caused her voice to crack. “This room goes up more than two stories. The window is frosted glass. And the back of the warehouse has long since been gated. No one can see it from the outside.”

“How do you know?”

“One of our friends used to own this factory.” Elsa looked down at the ground for a moment. “He’s gone now. But he suggested the back of the factory as a hiding place once, because of the extra boiler room. Said he was going to bring his family here if things got bad in the city. We remembered.”

Vladimir looked from the distraught woman back to Adele, who felt tears burning her eyes. She shrugged. What could they do?

“Abram. Elsa. We can get you out,” Vladimir began, his voice laced with empathy. Adele bit her bottom lip over the emotion
that was building, threatening to boil over as tears. “Maybe not right away, but I’m willing to try. I have contacts in Switzerland who would be willing to receive you.”

“No.” Abram brought his hand up in the air, as if cutting off all talk on the matter.

Adele stepped up to Vladimir’s side then, hoping to offer some reassurance that Vladimir could be trusted. “Please listen to him. Vladimir has done this before. He’s been able to get others to safety.”

“We thank you, but no.” Abram shook his head.

“But he can help you. He’ll guarantee your safety,” Adele said, and looked up at Vladimir. “Won’t you?”

Vladimir said nothing. Instead, he exhaled a soft breath of air that she saw leave his shoulders.

“Mr. Nicolai.” Elsa addressed him with a soft, almost melodic voice. “Can you guarantee safe passage if we try to leave Vienna now?”

All eyes went to Vladimir, who stood with solidarity. He surprised Adele by reaching out for her hand and held it almost hidden at his side. “No,” he admitted, and gave her fingers a gentle squeeze. “I cannot guarantee anything at this point.”

The Haurbechs nodded, looking one to the other. Elsa broke into silent tears and leaned in to rest her head on Abram’s shoulder.

“We can plan, though. We can get you out of here as soon as possible, before the Gestapo comes back. We can bring you forged documents, traveling papers for you and the children.”

“We’ll be staying,” Abram said. “We can’t take the risk. Not with the children.”

Vladimir sighed. “You won’t change your mind?”

Adele looked up at his profile again, noticing a stony resolve she’d not seen in him before. The Vladimir she knew wasn’t this quiet. But then, she’d never seen him in authority over such a
situation before. She’d brought him to be the Haurbechs’ savior that night. In truth, he looked quite up to the task, had they needed one.

After one more squeeze, Vladimir let go of her hand.

He walked over to the small table and began emptying his pockets. He set several tins on the table. “Sardines, though I know they’re about the last thing you’d want to see,” he offered, then followed with a handful of small potatoes, three small casings of salted meat, a bar of soap, and several small paper packets. “Aspirin and an antibiotic. Please don’t ask me where I got it.”

Elsa ran over to the table, grateful to have the wares he’d brought.

“And this,” he said, placing a pocketknife in her outstretched hands. “It was all I could find. There’s no metal left in the city, I think.”

In the next instant, he had shed his coat and tossed it on the rocking chair. “Take it. It should fit one of you.” He then shrugged off his sweater, a thick weave of dark navy, and held it out to Elsa. “At least hang this up over the window at night. Even the tiniest light from the stove could draw attention.”

Adele could have cried when she saw Elsa’s arms as she accepted the sweater. They were so tiny, with bones protruding from her wrists like a ghost. Her skin was pale and pinched, her once rosy cheeks a shadowy gray color. Even her chocolaty hair now seemed dull, pulled back in a stringy knot that looked streaked with gray.

She looked over at Abram, the wonderfully gifted musician who’d played viola in the orchestra years ago. Adele had met them through the university, where he’d been a professor. He was handsome, with a congenial smile and a booming laugh that the students enjoyed. But no one had seen him in more than a year, not since it was rumored that the Haurbechs had left Vienna for a relative’s home in the countryside. And the laugh that had been
missed in the university halls was now replaced by a hollow voice and hands that wrung until his knuckles turned white.

They looked weary. And so unlike the couple she’d once known.

Adele felt her heart breaking for what used to be.

Vladimir turned to Abram. “You have water?”

“Yes. There is an old well at the back of the property. We’ve been able to draw water.”

“Adele? Is that you?” A little brunette head popped up from the sea of blankets on the bed, a girl with a sweet smile and lopsided braids.

“Sophie,” she whispered, hoping her voice sounded a little cheery. She pulled a box from the basket Elsa held and walked over to the bed. “I have a surprise for you, my dear friend.”

The little girl smiled softly, showing off a missing tooth. She too seemed tired, weary from the fear and the lack of nutrition. Adele hated to see it.

“I’ve brought you a box of your favorite.”

Sophie’s eyes lit up when she saw the box. “Shortbread!” she whispered, holding it up so Elsa could see. “Look what Adele’s brought me.”

Adele reached inside her coat and retrieved a small book from the inside pocket. “And a new book, as promised.
Alice’s Adventures
in Wonderland.
”

Sophie delighted in the gift and swung tiny arms around her neck. “Thank you,” the little girl said, forcing tears to escape from the corners of Adele’s eyes.

“Read it with me?”

Adele looked to Vladimir, who shook his head.

“I’m sorry, Sophie. Not today. I’ve brought a friend with me and we’re unable to stay. Perhaps another time, yes?”

Sophie nodded, though her eyes registered immediate sadness.

Adele gave a light tap to the end of her pert nose. “Good girl.”

She ran a hand over the hair on Eitan’s brow, careful not to
wake the sleeping boy, then turned to say good-bye to Elsa. She embraced her friend in a hug.

“I’m sorry, but you cannot come back.” Abram’s words were firm, but he extended a hand to Vladimir. “We do thank you for your help. May God bless you in the blackness of this war.”

Vladimir took the man’s hand in both of his own and gave a nod that was fraught with emotion. He released Abram’s hand, then looked from him over to Elsa.

“Please hear me. I know you’re both afraid, but there is greater risk if I don’t come back. You’re dangerously low on supplies. And if the children are sick, you’ll need medicine for them. I’ve brought you what I could find for now, but it’s not going to be enough to sustain you much longer. Surely you must see that?”

“Should we leave?” Elsa’s voice was a tragic whisper. She turned to look at her husband, still with Adele’s arm around her waist for support. “Is it time?”

Abram shook his head. “No, my dear. It’s not safe.”

Vladimir’s words were determined and hopeful as he continued. “There are no guarantees in war. We know this. Safety is a luxury no matter where we tread. But if you do change your mind about getting out, my contacts can help. I have a friend down at the docks. Julian. He loads the trucks for the dockside markets. When the time is right, he can help us arrange for your transport out of the city. Don’t answer now. Think it over. We can discuss it the next time I return.”

Elsa perked up, her eyes freezing on Adele’s face. “You’ll come back with him, Adele?”

“Of course.”

Vladimir cut in with a stern, “No,” at the same time. “Adele will not. But I assure you that I’ll look in on you.” When Abram looked ready to protest he added, “Only when necessary to see how you’re getting on.”

Abram gave a reluctant nod. “Thank you, for all you’ve done.”
Vladimir pulled Adele away from Elsa, who latched onto her hand and kissed her palm. She finally let go as Vladimir pulled her into the stairwell.

“We won’t open the door to you unless it’s safe,” Abram said, closing the door with Elsa standing tearfully in the background. “Please seal the cupboard on your way out.”

He nodded. “I will.”

“But what about the children? You won’t even try to escape?” Adele threw herself against the door, even as it was bolted from the inside. “Abram, please! We can help you!”

Vladimir took her by the hand and dragged her up the stairs, her feet fumbling to find their footing on each uneven step.

“Let them go, Adele.”

She shook her head and turned to go back down the stairs.

“Did you hear me?” He grabbed onto her shoulders and shook her, trying to get her attention. “Let them be! God will watch over them until I can visit again.”

“Can’t you convince them to get out? Look at them. Look at how they’re living. Barely surviving? With no food? The children could be sick.” She shook her head, fighting against the tears that were streaming down her face.

“Adele, I won’t let you do this. You’re in way over your head. It’s far too dangerous for you to ever come back,” he said, and began pulling the cupboard back against the wall.

Adele tugged at his elbows, anything to get him to listen to her. She struggled against the strength of his arms, trying in a feeble attempt to bypass him back down the stairs. But when the cupboard met up against the wall with a gentle
thud
, she stopped and stared at him.

“Adele, I care about you too much to let you put yourself at risk.”

The finality of his words set in as the dust floated through the air.

“I must come back,” she said, unable to stop the quiver she
felt overtaking her chin. “I have to do this. Don’t you understand? My life has to matter for something bigger than myself.”