THE URN
Chapter 8
Written and illustrated
By Elaine Troisi
Soon after breakfast, Madame Golde Soneberg joined them with their teen son, Max. They shared bitter acorn and chicory coffee, all that was available in Paris.
Moishe explained, “Now that the Germans have seized Paris, they privilege themselves to the best of everything, making it difficult for us to get food and necessities. It is unthinkable.” He paused briefly.
Max interjected, “The truth is you have arrived in Paris at the wrong time. A few months ago, things were different, but now ….” He threw his head back and groaned in utter disgust. “Life isn’t worth living. We aren’t humans, just because we are Jews!” Then the fifteen-year-old stood, shoving his chair out of his way. Angrily, he said, “I must go study now.” Then, he saw the look of horror on his mother’s face. Regretting his words, he softened. Turning to the young couple and taking a deep breath, he said, “I ask you to pardon my bad manners,” and he was gone.
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| Max in despair over their lives watercolor by Elaine Troisi |
Golde stood, “I apologize. Max is an angry young man who was robbed of his youth before the blossom left the tree. He doesn’t yet know what you know … how much worse this life could be. And I pray he never does!”
Jacob and Hannah sat stunned, not knowing how to respond to Max’s remark.
Moishe was stoic. “Ach, my boy has frightened our new neighbors,” he said to Golde.
“But it’s the truth, Moishe, people are fleeing, and there are raids.” Golde gave an apologetic look at her husband. “Please excuse me. I must look after Max.”
Jacob said,” Well, we can attest to that. We encountered huge crowds of people on the run as we approached Paris. There was an air raid. It was … it was …” He stopped.
“It was blood and screaming, worse than horrible,” Hannah said, finishing Jacob’s explanation. “I was afraid,” she hugged her belly, “that our baby would never be born.” She grabbed for Jacob’s waiting hand.
Jacob and Hannah listened and learned, realizing their folly. They shared their experience escaping the Warsaw ghetto. Things were better in Paris then.
“I knew much about you before you arrived. Through the underground, you know. It was I who arranged for you to live here.” He paused.” Your journey is a testament to real courage!” he exclaimed. “I’m proud to know you.”
Hannah looked at Jacob, love etched on her face. “We are not heroic,” Jacob said. “We were frightened all the time!”
“But you persevered. Fear didn’t stop you. And you are welcomed here. Well, that’s enough of that,” he said with deep emotion.
After a brief silence, Moishe explained the occupation of France and what that meant to Paris. Moishe’s prosperous metals company that made nuts and bolts was ‘transferred’ to the Reich.
We were left with no money and few possessions. But we know enough sympathizers who help us get basics so we will not starve,” he added.
Moishe said, “I promised you a surprise. Now follow me.” They arose from the table.
In the main room, there was only a divan and a small table. There was also an old-fashioned cupboard, the kind that was meant to showcase fine china and silver, empty now. “Here,” he said to Jacob, “push in this knob, twist left twice. “
Jacob did as instructed. The door popped open, nearly striking him in the face. “Yikes,” he exclaimed in surprise, jumping back. His nostrils flared at the musty smell that rose from below.
“Now follow me,” he said as he stepped into darkness. Somewhere he found a chain and on went a bare lightbulb. “Yes, I think they forgot to turn off the electricity down here. But we have stored lanterns and candles, for when they do.” He added, “Please be careful, Hannah, the stairs are steep but strong.” He turned toward Hannah and smiled. “Don’t be afraid, dear.”
They descended many steps. Somewhere they heard running water.” Ah, yes, we collect rainwater in a small cistern, and we have a copper bathtub and toilet as well.”
The large underground room was furnished with a trestle table and stools. Moishe yanked another chain, and the large room was illuminated. The walls were lined with bookshelves. There was also an enormous cupboard. Its shelves were laden with canned fruits and vegetables. Crockery lined another shelf. As if that were not enough, there were two large armoires, one for ladies’ clothing, the other with men’s clothing. There was yet a large desk with a typewriter. A cabinet was filled with paper and office supplies. Also, a real printing press. Jacob’s jaw dropped at that. “Oh, my,” he said in awe.
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| Could this little machine be Jacob’s future? illustration by Elaine Troisi |
Moishe smiled. “This interests you?” he asked.
“I dreamed of becoming a writer as a child. A journalist actually. But then Poland fell, and University was no longer in my future!” he explained.
“Well, aren’t you the lucky one,” Moishe declared. “Our little group is hoping to start publishing an underground newspaper to combat the terrible Nazi lies! You are a young journalist, just what we need!”
Jacob protested. “You misunderstand me. In the ghetto, yes, I kept a journal, but I’ve never been published. I know very little. You see?”
“Now, I will hear none of that, Jacob.” Moishe raised his hand as if to toss Jacob’s protests to the wind. “Give it some thought, dear boy. You and Hannah can mull it over. “You won’t have to do it alone. Max also is quite a wordsmith himself. You will work together, I hope. Now let’s explore the rest of our underground refuge.”
They moved beyond the armoires and makeshift bathroom. There was a network of water pipes that led from the cistern. “How did you do this? Jacob gasped in amazement.
“I am an engineer. That’s how I created the machinery that made the giant nuts and bolts in my factory,” Moishe paused and sighed deeply, as if he were a deflating balloon. Then his breath returned, and he continued, deep sadness in his voice. “Now it’s all gone, confiscated by greedy Nazi hands!” Was there anger in his voice?
“So you built all this in the past year?”
“Not exactly, Jacob. There was a large dirt basement here when we bought the place. We saw what the Germans were planning years ago. I hired some of my mechanics to shore up the basement, build shelves, mold and pipe the cistern from the downspout on the roof. The rest I stole from vacated homes, or I bought.” He paused, looking around.
Moishe continued. “Actually, Max, though just a boy, apprenticed beside us. He’s the one who made that old printing press work again,” he said with obvious pride.
“Come, there’s more to see.” Noticing Hannah’s grip on her belly, “Hannah, do you need to rest. Come, there are bunks.” He led her to one. He gave her water, which she gulped down.
“Thanks, Moishe. You are a very kind man,” she murmured as she put her head on a pillow. Jacob lifted her legs and covered her with a blanket. Immediately she slept.
Jacob explained, “She’s been through so much fear and terror. I worry for our baby.”
Moishe whispered,” Women are forged of steel. That’s why they are meant for childbearing. Amazing!” He shook his bushy head in wonderment. “Shall we wait for another day?”
“Oh, no indeed. This place is a work of genius. Please, continue.” He bent and kissed Hannah on her forehead.
They walked past the sleeping quarters and reached a dead end. Moishe pulled a stone from the wall, and a cubby hole opened to daylight. “Go ahead, crawl through,” he said.
“Really? Is it safe.”
“Well, I made it large enough for my heft, so you will fit through easily.” Moishe smiled at Jacob. “Go!”
Jacob did as he instructed. But the door slid closed when he stood in the bright sunshine on the gravel lorry path. He squinted from the bright sun. “Now what? “He was confused, He turned to the wall, looking for a doorknob.
“Can you hear me, son? All you need is to whisper into the hole … 8525.” Moishe instructed.
As if Jacob had said ‘abra cadabra, the door opened.
Moishe explained, “That’s the door my friends and refugees can enter.
“Refugees?”
“Yes, those escaping apprehension are welcomed here. All in good time, dear boy. All in good time.” He closed the hidey hole by replacing the stone. “One more thing, and then you and Hannah should return to your home.”
Back in the ‘bedroom,’ Moishe slid a chest of drawers to reveal a trap door. “Go ahead, Jacob, open it.”
It was another room, small, airless and suffocating, smelling of a tomb. Moishe yanked the chain and a lightbulb sprang to life. Again, Jacob’s jaw went slack, for what he saw was beyond belief.
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Are you enjoying this novel, Write to me! I’m listening!
You will be able to read THE URN chapter 9 on Friday evening, July 11, 2025.
I apologize for not meeting my promised June deadline … because I was motoring in my power wheelchair for over 3 weeks through the streets of Paris! What a wonderful adventure! I will write about it sometime!