Last Twilight in Paris

16. Helaine

16

Helaine

Paris, 1944

Helaine looked out of the window now, across the gray slate rooftops of Paris. It was March and the days were getting longer, she noticed. “Spring is coming,” Miriam remarked, coming up behind her and seeming to read her mind. Helaine’s favorite season had always been spring, especially after marrying Gabriel and enjoying their evening walks as the weather began to warm and the willow trees along the Seine grew buds. But the prospect of pleasant weather beyond the walls of their prison seemed a taunt now, and the memories of walks she could no longer have brought more pain than joy.

“I’ve been tasked with cleanup,” Miriam said, coughing. “Help me?” Cleanup was the job of going through the store in the evening and straightening all of the displays. It was not the most onerous job, but Helaine hated that elderly, sick women like Miriam had to work at all.

They walked down to the main floor of the shop and began to refold a pile of silk scarves that had been carelessly scattered by a German visitor. Behind a counter on the floor, there was a lone silk glove, white and unstained. Helaine picked it up. It was too pristine to have come from among the plunder. She guessed that it was left behind by the days of the store’s grandeur, a relic from times gone by.

Helaine looked up at the vaulted ceiling of the shop. “I remember coming here as a child and it felt like the grandest place in the world.” She gestured widely. “Now look at it.”

“Ah, yes, Lévitan in its heyday.” Miriam smiled at the memory.

When they finished straightening up, they returned to the dormitory, where the others had gathered to eat. Helaine noticed a woman whose name she could not remember at the far end of the room pointing at her and whispering. “What is it?” Helaine asked the woman loudly, suddenly nervous.

“How is it that you are here?” the woman asked. She stood and walked toward Helaine, arms crossed. She was called Chava, Helaine recalled then, though they had seldom spoken. “What status has kept you from Drancy?”

It dawned on Helaine then what she was asking. All of the other prisoners had been assigned to Lévitan due to a special status, wife of a foreigner or military officer, etc. Something that made them worthy of better treatment, even protection. Chava was demanding to know what Helaine had done to deserve that. “My husband is a musician,” Helaine offered, realizing even as she said it that the explanation was not enough. Being married to a cellist did not accord her a status that was worthy of the department store. “My father is a prominent businessman. Perhaps it is because of that.” But if that were the case, Helaine reflected, her mother would have been able to come to the store as well.

“Or perhaps,” Chava said, “it is because your husband is a collaborator.” She nearly spat the last word. A collective gasp went up among the others in the room. Indignation rose in Helaine. How dare she? Collaborating with the Germans was the most serious of offenses among prisoners. It also was not an ac cusation one dared to make lightly, though, and Helaine knew immediately that she must have a basis for the claim. Isa had suggested it as well.

Helaine opened her mouth to protest, but before she could respond, Chava held up a newspaper, several weeks old and undoubtedly left behind by a guard or Sunday visitor. “This.” She pointed to an article announcing that a group of French musicians were playing in Germany. Gabriel’s name was listed among them. “Your husband, he isn’t missing. He’s playing for the Germans. He must be sympathetic to them, or perhaps even helping their cause.”

“You believe that rag?” Miriam scoffed. Paris-Soir was a collaborationist newspaper, little more than a puppet of the Germans. But it was one of their only forms of access to information about the outside world and many at Lévitan read it.

Helaine shifted uncomfortably. “That’s a lie.” But she scanned the news story; the truth in front of her was impossible to ignore. “He is performing for the POWs in the camps. He was forced to go. He was not given a choice.” Her words were a refrain of the explanation she had given Isa when she visited.

“Your husband,” Chava repeated, “is a traitor.”

“No!” Helaine cried. “He only does as he is ordered.” Helaine heard the hollowness of her own words. “Following orders” was the excuse of the French police and others who did the Germans’ bidding. She hated that it was the only alibi she had for Gabriel now. Helaine remembered Gabriel’s melancholy at the start of the war, the way he had almost smashed his cello rather than use it in service of the Germans. He could not be helping them. But there it was, a photo of him at a concert in Germany, looking well and smiling. Although she was relieved that Gabriel was alive and safe, her anger rose. Gabriel was performing willingly and he looked glad to be doing so. How could he be happy and free while she was in here?

“How do you think your husband avoided the same fate as the other artists?” Chava sneered. “He is a collaborator!”

Shaken, Helaine stormed from the dormitory. Miriam followed her. “Pay Chava no attention. She’s terrible.” Miriam paused. “Your husband, how long were you married?”

“A few years,” Helaine replied. Inwardly, her doubts grew. They had married so quickly, though. She really had not known Gabriel at all. And there was no one from his past life, no parents or siblings. What secrets might he have kept from her?

Helaine tried to push away her doubts. She loved Gabriel, knew him. But still her questions persisted. What was he doing and why? She needed to see him and learn the truth.

A few days later, as they were preparing to begin the day’s work, Helaine saw Miriam toying with something over by her cot. Helaine approached and Miriam tried to hide the object, but it was too late. She had seen it was a metal file. “What are you doing?” Helaine demanded in a low voice.

“Leaving. I’m going to get out of here,” Miriam replied. Her voice was steely with determination. “I’m going to climb down the fire escape and ride one of the trucks out of here, then jump.”

“And the file?”

“In case the door is locked and I need to open it.”

Helaine’s eyes widened. Escape was one of the things she dreamed about most often, second only to reuniting with Gabriel. But contemplating it was one thing; actually planning to attempt it quite another. Though Miriam had talked about it on several occasions, Helaine had not thought she was serious. “They will kill you if you are caught. And if the Germans discover you missing, the rest of us will pay. Don’t you remember what happened with Ava?”

Helaine’s mind reeled back to weeks earlier, when she had seen another woman about the same age as herself prying open one of the windows. “Ava, don’t!” If she wasn’t caught, she might fall to her death from the high ledge outside.

“I’m sorry,” the girl said as she hoisted herself over the window ledge. And then she was gone.

The next day, Ava’s bed was stripped bare. “Caught and deported,” Miriam said. How far had she gotten before she was captured? In reprisal for Ava’s escape attempt, the other prisoners had their rations halved and their work doubled for one week. Helaine shuddered now at the memory of hunger on those terrible days.

But Miriam would not be dissuaded now. “I will make it,” she said resolutely. She did not see the limitations of her age, nor the obstacles in her path to freedom. The possibility of escape was the fuel that sustained her and the hope that kept her going. “I don’t know how much time I have left.” Though they had not discussed it openly, Miriam’s cough had worsened over the time they had been imprisoned in Lévitan, signaling a more dire illness. “I’m not going to spend it in here. I’m going to get out somehow.”

“Miriam, no!” Miriam had to be close to seventy. How could she possibly manage it? The department store, however terrible, was surely better than where she would find herself if she was caught.

“You think they are going to keep us here forever?” Miriam asked. “Wherever they send us, it will be worse. We have to leave now before it is too late. You should come with me. You know the only way you are going to find out what is really going on with your husband is to get out of Lévitan and find him.”

Helaine shook her head. She wasn’t brave enough to try to escape. She could not.

Later that afternoon as Helaine worked, she was summoned from the sorting line. She leaped up, praying that she was not in trouble or worse. “You are needed on the second floor,” the guard said tersely. Helaine froze with fear. She had never been pulled from the line before. What could this possibly be about? The second and third floors were a storage space between the main floor of the department store, where goods were displayed, and the dormitory above. When she ascended the stairs, another guard pointed Helaine toward the back of the floor. Helaine’s heart pounded as she walked with dread through rows of plunder too large or broken to be displayed, mattresses and mismatched armories. Farther back, there were grand pianos and other musical instruments. Despite her worry at being summoned here, Helaine could not help but marvel at the work the Germans had put into stripping Jews of such unwieldy items. What could they possibly hope to do with all of this?

Suddenly, Helaine heard a commotion from the back of the storeroom. She jumped, fearing some sort of attack. She expected to see Maxim lunge out at her, her worst nightmare finally coming true. Before she could turn and flee, a familiar voice called out her name. “Laina!”

She spun in the direction from which it had come. As if in a dream, her husband appeared before her eyes.

“Gabriel!” Helaine cried. She ran to him, touching him to make sure he was not a figment of her imagination. Without a word, Gabriel drew Helaine into his embrace. His lips met hers. His beard was matted and his scent was pungent from not washing. But it did not matter. Everything she had been longing for all of this time had suddenly and unexpectedly come true.

He kissed her passionately. “Thank God I found you.”

“But how?”

“Isa managed to get word to me. I had no idea you had been arrested.”

“I tried to send a letter.”

“Did you? I never received it. But when I learned of your arrest from Isa, I knew that I had to come and make sure you were all right. I left straightaway. I made my way to Paris on foot.”

“But how did you get in here?” Sunday visitors were permitted, but to sneak in unannounced was another thing entirely.

“I bribed one of the movers who had a key and was able to go up the stairs. That and a bottle of schnapps for the guard did the trick.” He smiled. “And here I am.”

Here he was. The reunion that Helaine had dreamed of for so many months had now come true.

“Gabriel…” Helaine hesitated. The last thing she wanted to do now was quarrel with him. But she had to know the truth. “When I went to the Conservatoire, they said that you were not touring with the symphony, that they were no longer playing due to the war. How can that be?”

“It is true that the symphony disbanded. But I was invited to Germany to play with a smaller group of musicians and I felt that I couldn’t refuse. I’m sorry if I didn’t make that clearer before I left.” His explanation was so simple that Helaine fleetingly doubted whether she should believe it. But it was Gabriel, her Gabriel, telling her this and looking deeply into her eyes, so how could it possibly be untrue? “What matters now is that we have found one another. Are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” Helaine said, pushing aside the months of work and deprivation. Complaining about Lévitan was not how she wanted to spend their precious time together. “But my mother is in Drancy.” Helaine’s eyes teared as she thought about the terrible conditions she’d heard of at the camp.

“I’m so sorry. I wish that there was something we could do to help her. But I thank God that you are all right.”

“I am now that you are here,” she said, pressing herself close to him.

Neither of them spoke for several seconds. “The necklace, do you still have it?” she asked.

“I do.” He reached into the collar of his shirt and pulled out the chain. “I wear it always close to my heart.”

In that moment, she knew that she could trust her husband. He was a good man, and he loved her deeply. He gestured toward the necklace. “I’m never without it,” he said.

“I have my half hidden in the dormitory where we sleep,” she explained. “I don’t wear it when I am working because I don’t want the Germans to see it. I would be devastated if they confiscated it from me. And I don’t keep it on me in case we are inspected and searched. I must be careful.”

“When we reunite after the war, they will be together,” Gabriel said.

“When will that be? And where?”

“I don’t know,” he replied honestly. “But they say things are going very badly for the Germans, so hopefully it will be soon.”

It needed to be soon, Helaine thought. She pictured her mother in the camp, thought about her own precarious situation. None of them could hang on for much longer.

“But I might not see you again until the end of the war,” Helaine lamented. Or ever , she finished silently.

“You must have faith.” Helaine had never considered Gabriel a religious man. He was talking about something larger now, though, a belief that they were meant to be together when all of this was over.

“But where will we go after?” Helaine fretted. She saw the garret in Montmartre like a long-forgotten dream. Surely it had been taken or destroyed by now. Even if they made it through and found one another, their home was gone.

“ Laina , we will have each other. Nothing else matters. Let’s not worry about it now.”

Still, Helaine’s doubts remained. “How will we find each other?”

“Whatever happens, stay here and I will come for you,” he pledged.

“But how?” Helaine asked with a note of desperation in her voice. “And from where?” He did not answer. How could he possibly know? “I’m glad you still have the necklace,” Helaine confessed. “I sometimes worry, with so much time apart, that you might not want to be married anymore.”

Gabriel looked at her with disbelief. “You think I might want to be with someone else?” he asked. He shook his head. “I can’t even conceive of it. I only wish that you and I could be together now,” he said bluntly.

It was their only moment together; who knew where and when they might be together again? But it was impossible here. The guard might come by on patrol at any time. She’d heard of a place in a back storeroom where couples sometimes went to be intimate. “Come with me,” she whispered, taking his hand. Helaine led him to a spot in the very back corner of the storeroom, where no one could see. Nearby there was a pile of dusty blankets. She arranged them beneath one of the pianos so that they could lie down. Then she pulled him to her, not caring that it was the middle of the day or that they might get caught. They were alone together for the first time in more than a year, and she could feel his longing, as strong and deep as her own. Their clothes seemed to fall off of their own accord and their bodies met in a fiery crescendo unlike anything Helaine had ever experienced. Though she had longed for Gabriel in his absence, she had not realized how much she had missed and needed his touch. Here, in his arms, all of the suffering and hardship seemed to fade away, and she felt loved and beautiful again.

Afterward, they huddled beneath the piano. Gabriel drew one of the blankets around them, wrapping them in a cocoon. Helaine leaned her head against Gabriel’s chest. Helaine could not help but lament how they had gotten here, making love on the dirty floor of a dusty, desolate storeroom. It seemed like just yesterday when they lay together in their Montmartre apartment, the city splayed below them and a canopy of stars above.

They lay in each other’s arms until Helaine realized that Gabriel had dozed off, as if the effort of getting to her had taken all of his energy. Helaine might have slept, too; the long hours working in the store and restless nights in the dormitory left her constantly exhausted. But she did not want to waste a single moment of their precious time together. Instead, Helaine studied him, imagining his days and the things he had seen in the time they were apart. Gabriel looked like the same man she had married, but something had changed. He seemed older, eyes sunken, skin worn. She could only imagine how different she appeared to him than when they had last been together.

“Gabriel…” At last, Helaine roused him. She could not stay here too long without someone noticing that she was gone. He opened his eyes, and his face registered surprise, as though he was not certain where he was or why they were together again. Then, seeming to remember, he smiled broadly and drew her into his embrace once more.

Helaine did not know if they had much time left, and she did not want to ruin it. But she thought back to his earlier explanation of what he had been doing in Germany. It felt vague and somehow did not make sense. “Where have you been and what have you been doing this whole time?” Part of her was not sure she wanted to know the answers.

“Touring and playing in Germany. Mostly for senior officers at gatherings and parties. There are not so many larger concerts now that the halls have been bombed.” Helaine had heard that the Allies had stepped up the air raids over Germany and was glad to know it was working. But Gabriel sounded almost remorseful. “When I rejoin the orchestra, we will be headed further into Germany to perform at a Wehrmacht base near Koln.”

“How can you keep playing for them?” Helaine asked. The last thing she wanted was to fight with Gabriel during their precious time together. But Helaine had to know.

“What choice do I have? You’ve heard about Drancy. The camps in Germany are even worse. If I refuse, I will be imprisoned—and you could be deported to the east.” He paused. “Laina, there’s more to it than that.” He lowered his voice. “The truth is that we are not just playing. There is more to it than it seems. You must trust me.”

“Tell me,” Helaine demanded.

“I can’t. For your own safety and for the safety of others.” Gabriel spoke in a hushed tone, his voice urgent. “You must understand, this is complicated. There are things that I cannot discuss.”

“What?” Helaine demanded, desperate to understand the truth. “I am your wife. You can tell me!” she pleaded.

“I’m sorry, I can’t, not even with you. If you think me a traitor because I can’t tell you, then so be it. The lives of too many depend on it. And it is best for your own safety that you do not know.” Helaine folded her arms stubbornly. Gabriel was treating her like a child, being overprotective just as surely as her parents had. He continued, “I am the same man you fell in love with. We are the same. You must believe me.”

“Then don’t go back. Stay with me.” Seeing him and having him leave again almost hurt worse than not seeing him at all.

“People vouched for me. They would pay with their lives if I did not return. Darling, come and let’s enjoy our last few minutes together. Please,” he said, taking her face in his hands. “I hate that you are here and we cannot be together. But you must hang on for a little longer and then I can come for you.”

Helaine felt a pang of remorse. How could she possibly fight with him when they might never see one another again? She moved closer, pushing her questions away, and let Gabriel envelop her once more. He was here, but in just moments, he would be gone again. Her tears fell then, and she sobbed for all that they had lost and might never have again.

“No matter what happens, I will come for you. I love you.” He lifted her chin, then wiped the tears from her cheeks. He pulled away reluctantly, then stood and started to get dressed. When he finished, he knelt to kiss her once more. “Goodbye, Helaine.” He straightened and turned to leave. His footsteps grew fainter as he walked away. Helaine wanted to run after him and wrap herself in his arms one more time, tell him that she loved him, too.

Of course, that was impossible. Gabriel was once again gone.