THE URN
Chapter 21
Written and illustrated by
Elaine Troisi
4 Rue du Tresor, Paris
November 1943
Two weeks passed. Frost lay on the ground, a harbinger of winter. Golde and Moishe had not returned.
Max was distraught, his mind a jumble of memories mixed with fear. He went out every night and into the day, searching for them, asking about them. Still, no word.
Jacob and Hannah tried to comfort him, though they, too, despaired, fearing the worst. At night they lay awake. The only sound was the house speaking in groans and creaks, whispering in the dark, “All Hope is gone.”
When he was home, Rachel clung to Max’s legs. She was afraid he, too, would disappear. She loved him, and her child’s heart felt his pain. “Uncle Max?” she would ask every day.
He replied. “Wha-at?”
“When will Bubbe and Zeda come home ?”
“As soon as they can.” Then Max would pick her up, offering one hug for Zeda, one kiss for Bubbe, and then he added one more hug and kiss. “And that's from me !”
Then she’d go to Jacob and repeat the routine. Her last stop was Hannah, but on this day, she threw her arms around her mother and asked,“Did Bubbe and Zeda go where all the lost people go?
Shock! The ‘lost people’ was the euphemism they used to explain all the Jews sent to death camps. Had she understood all this time? Was it possible?
Hannah stumbled over her words. “Lost people. No, oh, no, Rachel, Bubbe and Zeda are on vacation. They went to the beach in Deauville, and we will go there when summer comes again, my darling girl. ”
That seemed to calm her mind for the moment, and she ran off to play.
After story time, and she was sleeping soundly, the three adults huddled around the radio. They listened silently for a short time. Finally, Max said, “I cannot believe our only choice is to lie to her! Really, Hannah?”
He lashed out at Hannah only because he was hurting. Hannah knew that. But it was Jacob who spoke up in her defense. “No one wants to lie to her, but what other option do we have?” Silence again, except for the tinny crackling of the radio and its distant voices.
Jacob stared into the watery deep pools of his wife’s eyes. Always, each found the other in the depths of those crystal pools.
That night Jacob decided to go with Max on his run to deliver ‘Combat’ to Resistance HQ. He left a note for Hannah on the kitchen table.
At headquarters the Soneberg family was highly respected for their work in the Resistance, and Jacob and Max’s queries were met with empathy. But the answer was always the same, “So sorry, Max. Nothing has changed.” Sadly, there was no news amongst their cohorts.
When they were about to leave, Max felt a tug on his sleeve. He heard a familiar ‘Hello’ and turned. “Colette, it’s been months. Where have you been? I added you to my ‘worry’ list, which grows longer by the minute.” He pulled her in for a kiss on her cheek.
“Did you miss me?” She clung to his arm, smiling.
“And this must be Jacob, the famed journalist of the movement.”
She struck her arm out and Jacob accepted a strong handshake.
Awkwardly he said, “I don't believe I've had the honor.”
Max apologized. “I'm such a fool. Jacob, I'd like you to meet Colette Avalon. She’s a brave soldier, and if I told you more, she probably would have to kill you.” They laughed.
Then her tone changed. “Gentlemen, let's sit down for a minute.” She let go of Max’s arm.
Max tried to slow his racing heart. “Colette, you know something. I see it in your eyes. Have my parents been taken? Don't hedge. Just say it!” He needed to know if his worst fears were true.
Colette took both of his hands in hers. She could almost feel his skin crawling. “If rumor is correct, Max, they were picked up at the Drouot trading a small Da Vinci sketch book for cash. Don't panic, Max!” She pulled him tightly into her arms. “They are alive, Max! Can you hear me?”
Just then, there rose an awful din somewhere in the tunnel and it approached them like a breaking wave where the three were sitting. By reflex, they jumped up, ready to flee. Then it subsided.
“Sorry, I didn't hear what you said,” Max replied, sitting down again. “Please, go on.”
“I said, there is reason for hope. Your parents are alive, Max. At least for now.”
The table wobbled noisily as Max jumped up again, pulling Colette to her feet. He kissed her again, relief flooding him.
Jacob looked first at Max, realizing how close the two were. Then he turned to Colette seriously. “Do you have verification? Do you know where they are being held?” He paused.
“Yes, I know where they are. Thankfully, are not in Drancy.”
Max let out a sigh of relief, knowing they were not on their way to Auschwitz. “Thank God.” He shook his head as in disbelief. “I had lost hope after the first week. I ve been so scared, Colette.”
“I came back for you, Max, as soon as I knew. They are here in Paris, in the Levitan forced labor camp.”
Jacob gasped. “Max, I wrote an article about Levitan in July, I think. Do you remember? That's where the grand department store was taken over by the SS. Now there are hundreds of Jewish prisoners meeting truckloads of household goods and furniture arriving there to be sorted, inventoried, and displayed handsomely …” Jacob stopped, turning ghostly. He let his head fall.
“It’s okay, Jacob. It's different when it's your family caught in the maelstrom, than it is when you write an article for ‘Combat,’ as important as that is.” She paused. Both men were pale.
Max spoke, but his voice was unsteady. “I do remember the article. The SS felt there was not enough room in Drancy to hold the vast numbers of Jews they collect as they continue to sweep the city in their effort to leave no Jews alive! Damn them!” Now his face was red.
“The terrible thing about Levitan,” Jacob said, curbing his anger, “is not just the horrific living and working conditions …”
Colette finished the sentence, “It's that Golde and Moishe may be forced to display their very own stolen silver, crystal, and furniture, as it comes in on trucks from who knows where!”
She went on to describe Levitan in the way a an escaped prisoner had told her.
Levitan was a grim fortress of despair. The air reeked of sweat, mold, and fear. Inside, the sound of shouting guards and machinery filled the air as prisoners sorted through piles of plunder … remnants of lives torn apart. The staircase, once grand, now wept with the tears of the dispossessed.
She looked into Max’s eyes and felt his pain. He tightened his squeeze on her hands. “This is too painful. I should stop.”
“No, I need to know everything,” he said, nodding his head.” Hot tears fell. Then in a heartbeat, he looked at Jacob and Colette, “How the hell do we get them out of there?”
They talked on into the wee hours. They had arrived at a decision, though it would take more meetings to work out the rescue details. Before leaving, Max kissed Colette lightly on her lips. Jacob was startled when Colette pulled Max in closer for a long kiss.
When they were outside, Max said, “Yeah, yeah, you have questions. I know. She’s bold.”
“No time for talk of Colette, as much as I want to, but we must hurry. The sun is rising, and Hannah will be in a panic.”
As they skirted areas where hostile soldiers hid, the sun warmed the frosty streets. The colors created a stained glass window of many colors … red, orange, yellow and every hue imaginable. A whistle blew. A soldier’s voice rang out, breaking the beautiful stained glass into shards. Then running feet. Bullets screamed, breaking the sunset.
For thirty minutes, Jacob and Max could barely breathe. They made themselves small as mice. The silence returned, and they dashed home. The sky was laden with racing dark clouds.
In the house, Hannah was in a panic. “Thank God you are both safe.” She pulled them both close. She was gasping for air.
“Hannah, Jacob asked. “What's wrong?”
She broke down in tears. “I woke up 2 hours ago. I thought she was with you. Then I saw your note.” Her words came fast. Then a sputter, like a car out of gas.
“And?”
“Her blanket is gone. Her rabbit. My scarf. And the front door is open!” Hannah collapsed against his chest.
“Oh, my God,” Max gasped, as realization struck. “she’s never been outside in her lifetime! Where would she go!”
The three huddled close. “She is looking for your parents, Max.”
Hannah grabbed her coat. “Let's go!”
Historical References
Drouot and Leviton are real, as described
I apologize for the lack of art. I've been in the hospital.. Now I'm home and on the mend, but the process is slow and painful. I can write from bed, but I can't paint from here.
You can read Chapter 22 on January 16, 2026. In the meantime, please enjoy this one. Remember, I'm listening!
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https://www.elainestories.com