"Your vater wanted it to be a surprise, but I felt you should know so you can help plan the party. He gave me permission to tell you and—"
"I am being adopted," I said, cutting her off in mid sentence.
"Yes, Eva." She stopped talking and looked at me.
I got out of bed and walked to the window, feeling the wooden floor beneath my bare feet. I stared into the darkness for several seconds, steadying myself against the rush of hopelessness washing over me.
I swallowed hard. Mutter continued talking.
"It's going to be so lovely. Cook was planning on a chocolate cake because Elsbeth thought that might be your favorite." She came over and touched my shoulder. "There will be decorations and pretty clothes and a special ceremony."
"But...," I began, trying to hold back the tears.
"I knew you would be happy," Mutter continued, oblivious to me. "You must come now and get back into bed." She led me to my bed and pulled the sheet over me. "You need lots of rest, my Eva. The party is only three weeks away, and there's so much to do." She leaned over and kissed me, then turned out the light and left.
I lay in bed, unable to move. It was final. Hope was gone. Mama and Papa were not coming for me. I was never going home.
When I finally fell asleep hours later, I dreamed of my grandmother. She sat in a small room that seemed strange and yet familiar. My bedroom in Lidice. I reached for my grandmother and tried to call her, but my voice made no sound.
When I opened my eyes, I was in a room painted pink, with matching lace curtains and a large picture of Hitler on the wall. Early light was just beginning to creep through the windows. From someplace far off, a mourning dove called to signal the dawn. The whole world should awake, the dove seemed to cry. Something new is beginning.
Nine
June 1944: Fürstenberg, Germany
A few days later Mutter called me into her sewing room. I walked in to find Elsbeth already standing there.
"Eva," Mutter said, holding up a stunning long blue dress. "This is for you."
"It's beautiful," I whispered, reaching out to touch the soft fabric.
"Mutter made it for you," Elsbeth said, smiling.
"It's for your adoption party," Mutter added. I looked into her eyes. Even though she was smiling, I could tell she was nervous. This person wanted me and loved me and somehow even needed me. I felt a lump in my throat. "Do you like it?" she asked.
"It's beautiful," I repeated, awed that someone would make something so lovely for me.
"Why don't you try it on, liebling?" Mutter said softly, handing the dress to me.
I took it to my room and held it in front of me as I looked at myself in the mirror. It was made of soft blue satin that matched the color of my eyes almost perfectly.
I pulled my skirt off and laid it on my bed, reaching inside by habit to remove Grandmother's pin. I ran my fingers over the pin, then touched the soft material of the dress. I was afraid the pin might tear the delicate fabric, so I pulled a soft lace handkerchief from the top drawer of my dresser. Carefully, I wrapped the little pin inside, then placed it gently back in the drawer, where it would be safe.
Then I slipped on the dress and twirled a few times in front of the mirror. It fit perfectly.
Mutter appeared in the doorway. "It fits," she said, with tears in her eyes. "I'm so glad."
"A party will be fun, yes?" Elsbeth asked, standing next to her.
I nodded yes, twirling again before the mirror and wondering if this was how a princess feels.
***
The house hummed with the energy of party preparations during the next three weeks. Mutter was sewing red satin banners to hang in the ballroom, and Cook was busy experimenting with recipes for the menu. Herr Werner had come home from work early several days in a row to help with preparations, and even Peter seemed less pesky than usual.
Elsbeth and I were assigned to embroider small patterns on the table linens. One evening we were sitting together in my room working on our task with the windows open. The breeze outside rustled gently through the trees, and the smell was barely present that night. Everything felt right at that moment, as if I really did belong to a family again.
As we sewed, I had a sudden clear thought of my grandmother and the way she would sit in her rocking chair and tat, using a small silver shuttle to create delicate lace handkerchiefs and table coverings.
"This is like..." I suddenly wanted to tell Elsbeth about the silver shuttle and tatting and my grandmother. I wanted to tell her everything about my family, while the memory was so clear and beautiful. But it was as if a black cloud had come to rest over part of my brain. I couldn't remember the name I used to call my grandmother in the language I had grown up speaking.
"Like what?" Elsbeth put down her thread, turning to face me.
"Like..." I started again. "I don't remember." I stood and paced, trying to pinpoint the exact moment when that precious word had slipped out of my mind. How had that happened?
"Well, if you don't remember, it can't be that important." Elsbeth turned back to her embroidery, frowning over a stitch.
I lay in bed late into the night, searching once again for the Czech name I had called my grandmother.
But I couldn't find it.
I searched for other Czech names, other phrases, and realized I could no longer remember the words I had grown up speaking. Tears rolled down my cheeks as I discovered that another part of myself had slipped from my grasp, like a balloon floating quietly into the sky. And I hadn't even seen it leave.
***
A few evenings later Elsbeth and I were eating dinner with Mutter. Herr Werner was working late, and Peter was at a friend's house. We were sitting at the small table in the informal dining room finishing our meal when Cook came in with a mixing bowl and two spoons.
"I am perfecting the cake batter for the party. Would you young women wish to lick the bowl?" she asked with a twinkle in her eyes, knowing what the answer would be.
"Absolutely!" Elsbeth replied, jumping up and reaching for the bowl.
"Wait, Elsbeth. I don't want you making a mess in the house. Go outside," Mutter said.
I took the spoons, and Elsbeth led the way to the porch. Kaiser followed, wagging his tail wildly to let us know he wanted in on the treat. The batter was rich and creamy, and we cleaned the bowl with our spoons, letting Kaiser take a little from our fingers. Then we lay down looking up at the night sky. The back porch was perfect for stargazing.
Thousands of stars gleamed and twinkled in the summer evening. Elsbeth and I lay a long time without speaking as Kaiser settled between us.
"I wonder why the stars blink like that," Elsbeth said, breaking the silence. "They look like little candles in the sky."
"I'm not sure." I answered. "I know each star is like the sun. They're huge and full of heat and light and gas."
"It's too bad the smell is so strong tonight. I could look at the stars for hours," Elsbeth said after several minutes.
"Yes. I'm starting to get a headache from it. I think we should go in," I said.
"The smokestacks must be working hard," she said, sitting up.
"Smokestacks?" I asked. "Is it smokestacks that make the smell?" I had never heard anyone talk about what caused it. "Where are they?"
"They're at the camp where Vater is commandant," Elsbeth answered.
"I thought he worked at a prison camp," I said.
"He does."
"So why are there smokestacks there? What do they have to burn if it's a prison camp?" I asked.
"They don't burn things you'd normally burn in them, Eva. I heard Vater talking to Mutter one day." I could tell Elsbeth was trying to say something but was having trouble.
"I don't understand," I said.
"Eva." Elsbeth's voice softened. "There is much sickness in the camp. Prisoners, well, prisoners die. And there isn't room to bury them. So the smokestacks—"
"Oh." I held up a hand to stop her from saying more. "Oh,"
I repeated, as my stomach started to hurt more than my head. "I don't want to talk about it anymore," I said.
Elsbeth nodded and stood, gathering the bowl and spoons before walking back into the house. Despite the smell, I stood a while longer on the porch before following her inside. I looked up at the stars blinking in the darkness, wishing I hadn't asked about the smokestacks and wishing I didn't know the cause of the smell.
Ten
June 1944: Fürstenberg, Germany
ON the day of my adoption party, the house overflowed with people. Dozens of Nazis in highly decorated uniforms stood arm in arm with beautifully dressed women. The entire house shimmered with noise and laughter and happiness.
Outside, shiny black cars lined the driveway. Chauffeurs gathered in a large, festive tent set up on the lawn, smoking, drinking beer, and laughing.
I walked through the rooms downstairs, awed by the beauty and pageantry, amazed that it was all for me. My stomach was jittery with both nervousness and excitement. I felt like a princess in my beautiful long blue gown, and pinned at the top was a fresh red rose corsage. Mutter had styled my hair, wrapping it on top of my head in a graceful swirl that was framed by tiny white flowers. I stood for a moment in front of the mirror in the downstairs hallway, admiring my hair and the soft fabric of my dress. I was still amazed by the way the blue of the gown matched the blue in my eyes.
A young man and woman stood at the bottom of the winding staircase in the front entry room. I walked by the couple on my way up the stairs just as Erich was handing them glasses of punch. Seeing me, the woman gasped in delight and pulled me to her.
"Eva! Come, dear! Here, Gerald. Raise your glass to Eva and to the new Germany!"
"Heil Hitler!" The young man raised his glass and winked at me. I nodded, smiling, and continued up the staircase.
Children raced everywhere upstairs, giggling and screaming.
"Eva!" Elsbeth squealed as I passed her doorway. She was sitting with two other girls but jumped up to grab my hand and pull me into the room. She wore a long white gown that Mutter had made, with a League of German Girls sash draped across the front and pinned at the top with a white rose corsage.
"Come meet my friends." She led me over to where the other girls stood. "Lotte, Willa, this is Eva. My ... sister." It was the first time she had called me her sister, and she smiled at me as she said it.
"Eva, it is so nice to meet you!" Lotte came over and put an arm around my shoulder.
"Yes. I wish I had a sister," Willa added.
Just then the tinny notes of a bugle filled the air, and the whole house grew quiet. Elsbeth looked at me. "Come, Eva. Downstairs."
The party guests made their way to the formal ballroom. There were so many people that they spilled into the front entry hall. Inside the ballroom the red satin banners that Mutter had sewn crisscrossed the ceiling from one side to the other. Vases and vases of red roses lined the walls, and dozens of small candles burned brightly beneath Hitler's picture.
Herr Werner and Mutter stood up on a small platform that had been placed at the front of the room. Peter stood next to them, a bugle in one hand. Mutter saw me and smiled, motioning for me to join her. Elsbeth gave me a gentle push. "Go on," she whispered. "This is for you."
Herr Werner smiled as I approached. It was a real smile, the first one I had ever seen him direct toward me. Feeling shy suddenly, I smiled back and moved closer to Mutter. Erich and Helga walked around the room quickly, filling everyone's glass with bubbling champagne.
"Friends and comrades," Herr Werner began. "Today we welcome our new German daughter, Eva, to our family. We are proud to now have three children to help build the new Germany."
Herr Werner looked at Mutter, whose eyes glistened with tears. She stepped down from the platform, and a man standing nearby lifted a small medal on a ribbon over her head and hung it around her neck.
"Heil Hitler!" Herr Werner barked, giving the Nazi salute.
"Heil Hitler!" we all repeated, loud enough to make the smallest crystals in the chandelier shimmer and send scattered light dancing across the faces. My arm went up with everyone else's in salute.
The man who had given the medal to Mutter stepped up to the platform. "And now a toast," he said, raising his glass. Everyone grew silent, even the children. "I make this toast to celebrate the Werner household for fulfilling their German duty by increasing their family's number to five. May they have many more successful adoptions!" He drank. Around us everyone toasted with their glasses, filling the house with the sounds of clinking crystal. "Heil Hitler!"
For the first time, I noticed that nearly all the women, except a young pregnant woman and a few others, wore medallions like the one Mutter had just received. Some of the medals were bronze, but most were silver.
"Now, honored guests and comrades," Herr Werner declared. "Cook has prepared a special meal in the dining room. Please, everyone, eat. Eat!" The guests murmured happily, moving toward the food. Elsbeth and her friends came to join me.
"Oh, Eva. Isn't this exciting?" Lotte clutched my hand in hers.
"Yes," I answered. "But what was that medal Mutter received? And the medals the other women are wearing?"
"My mutter has a medal," Lotte said.
"My mutter has a gold medal," Willa added.
Elsbeth rolled her eyes at Willa and snapped, "My mutter has only just started." Then she turned to me. "When a woman has at least three children, she is awarded the Mother's Cross, so everyone can see she is a good German citizen. Women who have four children wear the silver cross."
"And women with at least six children wear the gold one, like my mutter," Willa jumped in.
"Oh," I said, as I realized how much worth I had added to this family and feeling important somehow.
"Come, Eva. Let's eat!" Elsbeth said, pulling me toward the dining room and the huge mountain of food.
***
Later, after the party had ended and the night had grown dark and cool and quiet, I sat alone on the porch swing at the back of the house, listening to the rhythmic creaking of the metal chain.
"Wasn't it nice today, Eva?" Elsbeth appeared and joined me on the swing, swaying in time to the rhythm I had started. She wore a pretty lace nightdress, and her hair was freshly washed, giving off the same light flower scent as her mother's.
"So nice," I answered, reaching over and squeezing her hand.
We sat and swung together awhile longer without talking. I looked up at the night sky dotted with stars, then back down at Elsbeth, and smiled. I felt content and full for the first time in a very long time.
Eleven
October 1944: Fürstenberg, Germany
AS the season changed from summer to autumn, other things began to change as well, both inside our house and in Germany itself.
Light frost began to cover the ground in the mornings, making everything look peaceful and pure. But the nights were filled with the sounds of war. Planes droned overhead, and on clear nights, if we stared long enough through the sunroom windows, Elsbeth and I could see the flash of bombs exploding in the distance. It was my first time seeing or hearing any of the fighting, and it made the house, which had always felt so big and safe, suddenly seem small and fragile.
Mutter began spending more time in her sewing room, listening to the radio she kept there. Lines of worry crept into her face, and she seemed distracted and edgy.
"It's the war," Elsbeth said one night when we were in her room knitting winter scarves. "I think"—she got up and closed the door—"I think our Führer..." She stopped and seemed unsure of how to continue. "I think our Germany is struggling," she whispered.
A wave of fear swept through me, and I put down my knitting needles. What did this mean?
"Vater would be angry to know this, but when Mutter listens to her radio in her sewing room, sometimes I listen, too, from the hall." She continued knitting, not looking at me. "The Allies have advanced."
"What does that mean?" I asked aloud, thoughts w
hirling in my head. Would I be taken away again? Adopted by someone new?
"Nothing, really." Elsbeth put her needles down and looked at me, forcing a smile. "I'm sorry, Eva. I shouldn't frighten you. You know how strong Germany is. We will prevail against our enemies. Everything will be fine."
Then she got up, and as she opened the door, Peter stumbled in. He had clearly been leaning against it, trying to hear our conversation. He dashed down the hall screeching, "Vater! Vater! Elsbeth and Eva had the door shut. They're telling secrets! Vater!"
Elsbeth rolled her eyes.
She held up the finished part of her scarf. "You know, Eva, perhaps I'll send this scarf to our soldiers fighting for Germany. It will help keep some one warm this winter. You should send yours, too."
I looked at my scarf, which was nearly complete. But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't imagine it around the neck of a German soldier, helping to keep him warm.
***
The next day Mutter seemed preoccupied during our home economics lessons. "Perhaps it would be best if you girls went out for some exercise. Eva, you and Elsbeth pack a lunch and go for a walk. The cool autumn air will be good for you."
Elsbeth's eyes lit up. She had talked many times about wanting to show me the woods near the house. "Thank you, Mutter!" She jumped off her stool and went to the refrigerator.
"Thank you, Mutter," I repeated.
Mutter grabbed me in a hug. "Everything will be better when this war is over. Then we can forget what our enemies have done to us, and we will all rest easier." I nodded and went to get a blanket while Elsbeth packed lunch.
Once we had reached the woods, Elsbeth stopped, putting the picnic basket on the ground. It was a beautiful day, sunny and bright, and the air was cool and crisp, with only a trace of the smell.
"Ah, freedom!" Elsbeth took a deep breath, looking up at the sky and opening her arms to the sun. Suddenly, she tagged me. "You're it!" she screamed, then dashed off into the woods. Kaiser barked and ran after her.
We chased each other back and forth along a narrow path in the woods, with the sounds of fallen leaves crunching beneath our feet. Laughing and screaming, we ran until Elsbeth stopped and grew serious. I stood panting, listening to the sounds of birds chattering and the breeze rustling the brittle autumn leaves in the trees.