The Room on Rue Amélie Page 28

  “I’m ill,” she whispered.

  “Yes, that much is clear. The guards haven’t noticed yet?”

  “No. But I’m afraid I might not have much time.”

  He was still holding her arm. “And what will happen? They will send you to the hospital block?”

  She took a deep breath, which made her cough. It was time to tell him the truth. “Herr Hartmann, I am pregnant.”

  He glanced at her belly and then up at her face again, a deep well of sympathy in his eyes. “Yes, I know.”

  “You do?”

  “I could see it the day I hired you, Ruby. How far along are you?”

  She coughed again. “Nearly eight months.”

  His eyes widened. “I thought perhaps four or five.”

  She shook her head. “We are starving, Herr Hartmann. It’s a miracle my baby is still alive.”

  “A miracle indeed.” He studied her. “And if you go to the hospital block and they realize you’re pregnant . . . ?”

  “Death, I think.”

  “Dear God,” he murmured, raking a hand through his hair. She could see a storm of indecision in his eyes, and for the first time, she realized how unfair this was. She was asking him to do something that would put his own life in danger. And what obligation did he have to help her? “Ruby,” he said at long last, “you must leave today. There’s no other choice.”

  His tone was so firm that she almost wanted to laugh. As if it were that easy to simply walk away! “But how?” she whispered.

  He thought for a moment. “Meet me here at four o’clock. I’ll have an answer then.” He strode away before Ruby could reply.

  The next few hours ticked by, and as Ruby had told Nadia about Herr Hartmann’s words, they were both wondering about what he could be planning. It wasn’t as if a woman in prison could simply stroll out into the afternoon sunshine and make a home for herself in the German countryside. And while the primary concern was getting out of the factory unnoticed, Ruby would still have to deal with her raging fever.

  “I will come with you to talk to him,” Nadia said firmly as the hands on the wall clock inched toward four. “Someone must protect you. Let us see what Herr Hartmann is planning, and I will do what I can to help.”

  Ruby was too weak to protest, although she was terribly afraid that Nadia would be putting herself in unnecessary danger. She hoped, of course, that Herr Hartmann would talk Nadia into going back to work. After all, Ruby had nothing to lose; death was a certainty if she stayed. But surely the camp would be liberated soon, and Nadia was strong, brave. She would survive. Hope, Ruby thought.

  Together, just before four, the two women slipped away when the guards’ backs were turned and headed toward the corner. Herr Hartmann was already there, and he looked surprised to see Nadia. “You must return to your station,” he said.

  “Ruby is my friend.” Her reply was immediate and firm. “I must do all that I can to help her.”

  Herr Hartmann looked at her for a moment, as if trying to decide something. “Yes. All right.”

  Nadia nodded. “What is the plan?”

  He held up a cloth sack. “You will take this with you, Ruby. It is some clothing from my twelve-year-old daughter.”

  “You have a daughter?” Ruby asked.

  “And a wife and a son.”

  Ruby stared at the cloth sack and then shook her head. “No. No, I can’t do anything that would endanger you or your family.”

  “My mind is made up. As is my family’s. We all know the risks. Here. Gisela’s clothes should fit you; you’re so very small. They’ll help you to blend in. There is a place to the southeast corner of the complex where a gap is being repaired, just large enough perhaps for a prisoner to make her way out if no one is watching. You must head to the woods to the east and move as quickly as you can. You won’t be safe until you’re far away from Ravensbrück. Once you’ve walked for a few miles, begin looking for Red Cross trucks on the roads. It’s impossible to know which Germans you can trust, but you should be able to trust the Red Cross to nurse you back to health without turning you over to the Gestapo.”

  “But . . . what if I don’t find one?”

  “You will. I know you will. They are everywhere. You will find the Red Cross, and they will help with your fever, and they will safely deliver your baby. We have to believe in that, because there’s no other way.” He handed her the sack. “There are a few potatoes and some bread in there, as well as an empty bottle. There are plenty of creeks in the woods where you can stop for water. Now, quickly, Ruby, you must go before the guards notice us talking.”

  “Why are you helping me?”

  Herr Hartmann sighed. “Because everyone deserves a chance to live, Ruby. And because this is not the Germany I know and love. There are good German people too, you know.”

  “I know,” Ruby whispered. Of course she knew. In every place evil dwelled, good could also be found. It was a truth that kept the world moving forward, through all the wars, through all the terrible machinations of mankind. “Thank you.”

  “You must go now.”

  “How will I get out without the guards seeing me?”

  Herr Hartmann glanced at Nadia. “We will create a distraction. I will reprimand her loudly, which should make the guards pay attention to us.”

  Ruby glanced over at Nadia, who nodded and took her hands. “Yes. It is a good idea. But you must run as fast as you can, Ruby. Your life depends on it.”

  “Thank you,” Ruby whispered, looking into her friend’s eyes.

  Nadia smiled. “No matter what happens, Ruby, remember I am with you. As long as you have Nadia, you have hope.”

  Ruby blinked a few times. “Nadia—”

  “Go,” Nadia said firmly, glancing at Ruby’s belly. “If we cannot make the world a better place for the next generation, what is the point?”

  She kissed Ruby on the cheek, and before Ruby could respond, Nadia had begun to scream, hurling a string of Russian obscenities at Herr Hartmann.

  “Nadia!” Ruby exclaimed, knowing that her friend wasn’t just creating a diversion; she was initiating a situation for which she would surely be beaten.

  “Go!” Nadia hissed. “I accept the risk. Go and be free, Ruby!”

  “Go,” Herr Hartmann echoed before grabbing Nadia by the arm and barking orders at her in German. As several guards began trotting in their direction, Ruby took one last look at the two brave people risking their lives for her and slipped out the back door.

  She sucked in a huge breath of air—brilliantly, gloriously fresh air—and began to make her way toward the edge of the complex. But a guard appeared from around the corner of the building, drew his gun, and bellowed, “Halt!”

  No. Ruby couldn’t stop. Not now. Not when she was so close to freedom. Not when Nadia was inside risking so much for her. So she began to run, praying that the guard would miss if he tried to shoot. From the corner of her eye, she saw Nadia’s face framed in the factory’s window. Ignore me, Ruby thought even as she watched Nadia register the danger Ruby was in. Don’t make things worse for yourself.

  But it was too late. Still yelling Russian obscenities, Nadia burst from the same factory door Ruby had just exited and hurled herself at the guard with the gun.

  “No!” Ruby screamed, but everything was already in motion.

  “I said go, Ruby!” Nadia cried, clawing at the guard’s face as he cried out in surprised pain.

  Ruby hesitated for a split second, knowing she should go back, wanting to do all she could to save Nadia’s life. But then the baby kicked inside her, once, sharply, directly into her rib cage, and she remembered in a flash all that she was fighting for.

  And so she ran. She ran for the nearly invisible gap, which was just where Herr Hartmann had said it would be, then for the woods, even as shots rang out behind her. She ran even as she heard Nadia’s strangled cry. She ran as her friend’s body hit the ground, riddled with bullets. She ran and ran and ran until the factory vanis
hed, until the canopy of trees overhead obscured the blue of the sky, until she was alone in the middle of a silent forest, certain that there were no footsteps behind her.

  And in the quiet, she began to sob. No matter what happens, Ruby, remember I am with you, Nadia’s voice echoed in her head. As long as you have Nadia, you have hope.

  CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

  August 1944

  After the initial adrenaline of her flight had worn off, Ruby’s pace slowed. There was no one following her, and the underbrush grew trickier to navigate as she moved deeper into the forest. She couldn’t see the sun, and she was no longer certain of which direction she was going. Her body burned, her head throbbed, and her vision was blurry with tears. “Nadia,” she repeated over and over as new tears spilled. What had her friend done? Had she known, when she encouraged Ruby to flee, that this could happen? Was that what Nadia was trying to tell her, that she was prepared to die to protect her?

  By the time night fell, the world was spinning. Ruby stopped near a creek, filled the bottle Herr Hartmann had given her, and drank it all down. She ate half a potato but vomited it back up almost immediately. She sat and leaned against a fallen tree and told herself she would rest for just a few minutes before moving on. But before she knew it, the night had closed in. Sleep overtook her, and her slumber was rich with nightmares about Nadia’s blood spattering the foggy German afternoon.

  When she awoke, daylight was streaming through the trees, and Ruby sat up with a start. How long had she been out? There was no way to know; she had no watch, and she couldn’t see the position of the sun in the sky. She struggled to her feet, made her way back to the creek, and drank more water, followed by another half potato. This time, the food stayed down, but she knew she was still feverish. Her stomach swam; her forehead burned. But at least some of the dizziness had receded, which had to mean she was getting better.

  She changed into the dress and shoes Herr Hartmann had given her, and she was surprised to realize just how well a child’s garments fit her. Had she really lost that much weight? She knew, as she looked down at her body, that the answer was yes. She was skin, bones, and belly. Herr Hartmann had also included a kerchief, which she tied around her head, knowing that her short hair might give her away as an escaped prisoner.

  Ruby sat for a few minutes to gather her strength and to talk to the baby, then she stood and began heading in the direction she thought was west. It was possible, she realized, that she might even be trudging back in the direction of the camp, right into the arms of a search party. Then again, did they know she was missing? Perhaps the guard who had shot Nadia was humiliated that he let Ruby go. Maybe he didn’t say a word to anyone. She would have been missed at roll call this morning, but by then, surely they would have considered it too late to hunt for her. She only hoped that Herr Hartmann’s complicity in her escape hadn’t been discovered.

  As she walked, Ruby begged God to deliver her safely into the hands of someone who would help her rather than turn her over to the authorities. After all, she knew that Ravensbrück wasn’t near anything but the Polish border, and heading east seemed foolish; the Germans still had a stranglehold on Poland, and there were, in fact, more horrific concentration camps located there. Before she’d fled, the camp had started receiving shipments of prisoners from Auschwitz, and those women looked even more skeletal than the women at Ravensbrück. They died by the hundreds each day, some dropping dead right in the middle of their forced labor, some simply failing to wake up in the morning.

  “Hush, little baby, don’t say a word,” Ruby began to sing shakily as she walked, her hands protectively around her belly. “Mama’s gonna buy you a mockingbird. And if that mockingbird don’t sing, Mama’s gonna buy you a diamond ring.” Ruby couldn’t remember any more of the lyrics, so she sang the ones she knew again and again.

  Eventually, hours later, Ruby came to a broad road on the edge of the forest. She stopped in her tracks, unprepared for the risks that came with a return to civilization. But she might pass as a local laborer instead of a prisoner. The problem was that she knew very little German—only a few words. She certainly couldn’t pass herself off as a German civilian, but perhaps she could make someone believe that she was a refugee from somewhere else. The other alternative was to melt back into the forest and press on in a different direction, but already, Ruby felt wildly lost, and she had the feeling she would starve to death or succumb to her fever long before she found her way to safety. No, her best bet was to try to hitch a ride with someone heading west and to hope that whoever picked her up would take pity on her. It was her only chance.

  She began to walk along the road, head down, heart thudding. She wasn’t sure she was doing the right thing, but she was certain she had no choice. Several cars whizzed by, their drivers ignoring her entirely, and then, in the distance, she saw a small truck whose hood featured a white square emblazoned with a red cross. She blinked a few times as it drew closer, sure at first that she was imagining things. Could it be a German Red Cross vehicle?

  She stepped into the middle of the road and began waving her arms over her head. “Bitte stoppen!” she cried in German. “Please, stop!”

  To her relief, the truck slowed and came to a halt beside her. The man in the driver’s seat looked barely older than Charlotte, and she could see that his gaze was concerned rather than angry. It was a good sign. He said something to Ruby in German. She shook her head and murmured, “Ich verstehen nicht.” I don’t understand. He tried again, repeating his words more slowly, but still she shook her head. “I’m sorry,” she said in French. “I don’t understand.”

  Something in his expression changed, and he looked her up and down. “Prisoner?” he asked in French.

  “No,” she said quickly. “Laborer. Er, Arbeiter.”

  The man looked skeptical, but he turned to confer in German with the other two men in the truck. Finally, nodding, he turned back to her. “Get in,” he said in French, nodding to the back of the truck. “We take you as far as we go. Then you exit.”

  “Yes, yes, of course,” Ruby said, a wave of relief sweeping over her. “Thank you so much. Vielen Dank!”

  “Bitte,” the man said with a small smile. He paused and asked in French, “You are sick? Ill?”

  Ruby’s mouth went dry. Yes, the truck likely had medical supplies, but what would she do if they refused to transport her because they didn’t want to be exposed to her fever? No, it was more important that she get as far away from Ravensbrück as possible. “Just very tired,” she said as firmly as she could. “And hungry.”

  “Yes,” the man said. He turned and said something to the man in the passenger seat, who rummaged in a bag and withdrew an apple, a piece of bread, and a piece of cheese. “Here. You eat.” He nodded again to the back of the truck, and Ruby, momentarily stunned by the bounty of the feast, mumbled a thank-you before grabbing the food and climbing in. She ate greedily as the truck began to pull away, and although she felt nauseated, she closed her eyes and willed the food to stay down. Her baby needed it. Soon, lulled by the truck’s movement, she fell into a deep sleep.

  It was dark by the time she awoke to a man shaking her shoulder. It was the driver of the Red Cross truck, she realized, and he was saying something to her. “I—I don’t understand,” she managed to say as she struggled upright.

  “You go here,” he said in French. “We go that way.” He pointed down the road, and although she wasn’t sure why she couldn’t continue with him, she knew better than to talk back.

  “Thank you very much for the ride,” she said. “Where are we?”

  He took a moment to process her question. “Very near to Swiss border. Swiss is that way.” He pointed down the road in the darkness.

  “Switzerland?” She sat up straight now, her heart thudding. It wasn’t the direction she had intended to go, but wasn’t this better? Switzerland was neutral, and she’d be more likely to find help there than she would have if she’d headed north to occupied De
nmark. Switzerland adjoined France too, which meant she wasn’t so far from home. “Thank you,” she said to the man, who was glancing not so subtly at his watch. “Danke. Thank you very much.”

  “Bitte,” he said. “Viel Glück. Good luck.”

  He helped her down, and before she had a chance to say anything else, he was already climbing back into the driver’s seat, already pulling away. It wasn’t until he’d gone that she realized he’d handed her another apple and another piece of cheese before he left.

  She wolfed down the food as she stood in the grass, trying to decide what to do. This was a smaller road than the one they’d picked her up on that morning; it was made of dirt and appeared to wind through an unpopulated rural area. If she was near the Swiss border, as the Red Cross man had said, she could feel a bit safer. Perhaps she didn’t need to melt back into the forest and risk getting lost. If she stayed along the main road, maybe she’d find a safe place to sleep.

  Her body ached, and she sang to the baby again as she walked. Her fever, she realized, wasn’t burning quite as fiercely. The sleep on the truck had been restorative, but she knew that if she let her body get depleted again, the illness could come storming back. She had to find a safe place to stop for the night.

  Without a watch, and without guards barking orders about where she needed to be, it was impossible to keep track of time, so it might have been thirty minutes later, or it might have been ninety, but eventually, Ruby saw a farmhouse on a hill just off the road a quarter mile ahead, backlit by the glow of the moon. She picked up her pace, her mind spinning. It was late; she couldn’t just knock and ask for refuge, could she? Besides, what if the people who lived there called the authorities? But there was a small barn next to the main house, and Ruby reasoned that at the very least, she could sleep for a few hours in the hay before moving on prior to daybreak.