Her People Too

Chapter 16

  ZADOK WAS A man the Voigts called a "gift" from their odd friend by the name of Polaski, given to them on a midnight two weeks before Christmas. Nathan preferred to see him as the opposite. With the rabbi's nature, that Polaski probably dumped him with them. And it would be their death. It had only been three days, but oh! It felt like an eternity already.

As Nathan shut his eyes in a faux slumber, all he could envision through the rabbi's loud voice in the traditional evening prayer was how he'll slide the back of the lower shelf of the wardrobe open, collapse the three cots in the room, grab both collars of his younger brother and old Zadok and somehow shove them up the hidden slope into the attic. By then, he would be the only one left unhidden. A soldier would drag him downstairs. Wilhelm and Addi would be arrested...together with their niece. She would stand at the side of a soldier weeping as they killed her daughter. Then horror would fill her countenance as he was brought to his knees and a barrel put to his temple. Then he would die as the trigger was pulled.

All to the courtesy of the dear devout rabbi.

Nathan could bear it no longer. He ignored the questioning glance his brother gave him from across the room and left, making his way down the stairs in the darkness. The annoying volume of the rabbi slightly decreased. But how he thirsted to truly escape! How marvelous it would be to escape this hell of war where he and his people were nothing but scum to be cleansed from the earth. How marvelous it would be to escape the perpetual fear—and the guilt that hunted him down like a rabid dog.

A bomb detonated a ways away. An aircraft zoomed above.

There was no tinge of relief that no bomb had landed on the house when such sounds were such part of the night—of this damnable existence.

A low glow emanated from the kitchen. Nathan had almost been glad at the prospect of someone being there. Until he recognized her. But before he could turn to enjoy solitude in the living room, she turned. He soundlessly acknowledged her presence with a nod, and she his with a heartless grin and slight bow. He could not unsee how ghostly she appeared. Her white, long nightdress accentuated the paleness of her skin. Her loose golden hair framed a beautiful face laden with distress and flowed past shoulders covered by a black shawl. "Are you well?" she inquired, voice low.

"Yes."

She slid into a seat at the table, the lantern on the table illuminating her face. "Truly? You don't look it."

He was quick with a retort. "Well, neither do you." He cursed himself internally for indirectly admitting he was not well. There was a reason why both ghosts and thoughts were to be invisible to most and visible to some. If they would be seen by all, the soul they haunted would be isolated by those too frightened by the darkness that surrounded them.

Alta giggled without mirth under her breath. "Then you are in good company, ja?" She motioned for him to take a seat.

To his own mild surprise, he did her bidding. But they were not to sit together as the woman paced. Her lips moved and periodically he heard her German words and then Polish. She was not so different from Zadok. Yes, she whispered instead of sung. And her fingers twitched as they gripped her shawl. She sought a God he had never seen. It should not bother him. But it did.

A series of shots not too far off split the night air.

Zadok's prayers paused. Nathan's heart leapt into his throat as his fists clenched on the table. Alta leaned against the sink as her body swayed slightly. But apparently it was but an interlude for Zadok.

He was almost humored by the filth word that slipped from her mouth. Nearly spinning, she turned, complete guilt and regret tinging her face. She apologized profusely, seeming to be near tears. Discomfort flooded him when her hand covered his from across the table. "Forgive me. I didn't mean to say such a thing, I swear it."

An interesting choice of words after just doing such.

Her eyes pled with him. "Forgive my poor Christian witness."

Nathan chuckled then. Christian witness. How many manslayers had the same title of Christian? Why should she lament? She was the oddest thing at times. "Of course." Relief cascaded over her countenance and Nathan saw no reason for it. "I'm a Jew and I swear all the time." Her blue eyes widened, and color dabbed at her cheeks as her hand slid off his. "Not that it's acceptable," he corrected quickly for some reason unbeknown to him.

Alta plopped down on her chair looking utterly spent. "I'm a terrible person," she muttered.

Nathan's heart thumped solidly in his chest. His jaw hurt as he clenched, forbidding himself from saying what he truly wanted to. Reason screamed how unreasonable he was for holding towards her what another had done. But the anger within was not weak enough to be broken. If it was the breakage of the rules of her faith that entangled her, he would console her there. "Some Nazis are Christian as well. You don't compare."

Her eyes were ablaze through the sheen of her tears. "Don't ever dare say those devil spawns are Christian," she hissed. Tears slipped down her cheeks but her gaze upon him remained hard. "Men and women of their type have no right to live on God's earth!"

Her face crumbled. Her head thudded against the wood of the table as she sobbed onto it. Silent weeping seized her body.

Alarm swept over him. She was admitting to something. Did she have something to do with the Nazis? Of course, she does! Have you no eyes? A young woman like her is just what they take. If she was not forced, she is in liaison. She has done it! Any moment now, you'll be arrested or killed...

No. She would not. Not a woman who showed such love on little Janna and Abela and Mrs. Kowalski and David and...

Nathan's thoughts waged war within him. He did not notice the end of Zadok's prayer. There was no use in going back to bed if he sat across from a murderer...and neither was there use in leaving her in a heap of despair if she was innocent. She had saved his life—when all he wanted was to die if God were not to intervene. She had come... and done the work he wished for God to do.

Did he curse the day she did? No. Therefore he should be grateful, he knew. He should feel nothing but gratitude and no suspicion or anger.

"And I was daft enough!" . . .daft enough to put herself in grave consequence if caught. He should thank her. But if he tried, it would all be false.

But the tenderness he had long ago buried burned in his chest.

His fist rested mere inches from her elbow...and moved to her wrist. Compassion unraveled his fist. His fingers brushed over hers in some form of portraying what his words could not.

Her head snapped up at his touch. Her eyes were bloodshot from weeping, her nose had reddened, and her golden hair remained untamed. She did not remove her hand. And he felt it then as he held her gaze, the slow thaw of hatred as her eyes questioned and he chose to remember what he did know about her. Then he saw her.

Alta alone.

Her delicate hand took hold of his. For a moment, propriety was forgotten as his fingers swallowed her own. It was apparent how much fairer she was compared to him. But the feel of her skin testified of what truly mattered. She was human just as much as he.

He almost ignored the voice of his mind to release her hand and forsake the sudden and foreign pleasure of it. After all, she did not pull away even while sniffing and swiping at her nose, eyes, and hair.

But if conscience was not strong enough, adrenaline was the strongest force on earth as a knock urgently rapped on the door.

Author's Note:

Word...I had to write something. And I felt bad for staying away any longer. So I wrote this! I kinda got plans for Zadok. Haha! But yeah! 

Love to you all!

'Til next time!