Basel, May 1941.
-What's going on?
-I had a complicated moment and I got slightly angry.
-Slightly?
-A lot.
-Explain it to me, please, you know very well that I'm here for you.
-Yes, I know that you're here, but it's so hard to talk about my son.
Tears begin to rise as soon as I bring up the subject; I can only think about the violent way they took my child, so innocent. I will remember until my death the face of that soldier.
…
Paris, January 1940.
-Paul, we need to leave now, it's madness outside, and I'm afraid for us.
-I know, but how do you expect to leave without being noticed, and have you thought about where we could go?
-Maybe to America?
-America? But how do you expect us to get there? It's already complicated for us just to get food, so going to America is impossible.
-What if we went to Switzerland? I know that Isabelle and her husband were planning to go there, and she explained to me that the country is neutral.
-That's true, we could go, but we have many hours of driving, and we'll have to leave at night.
-Okay, I'll prepare the important things and get Henri ready for all of this.
-Yes, and I'll prepare our route with the maps.
I sincerely hope that we'll be able to find safety quickly and live normally again, at least a little. My son needs it.
-Henri?
-Mom?
-I'd like to talk to you about something important that's going to happen tonight.
-Is it serious?
-No, we'll just have to leave the house.
-What, no, I don't want to leave, I don't want to go.
-I know, my darling, but we don't have a choice, it's for our own good. We have to leave, but I promise you that we'll be safe.
-And Pierre, is he coming with us?
-Oh, Henri, we won't be taking Pierre with us. Your friend will stay with his family, and that's better this way.
-But I'm scared, Mom, all alone. Why do we have to leave? I like my house.
-I know, I love our house too, but we're not accepted here, and we have to find a new home.
-You promise you'll never abandon me then? he let out, his eyes filled with tears.
-I promise you.
A few hours later.
-Do you have everything? Paul whispered.
-Yes, we can go.
I turned my head and gave Henri a smile; I knew very well that leaving this house, his life, hurt him deeply. But leaving was the best solution available to us.
-Okay, perfect, we'll be able to get in. Can you put Henri in the car?
-Uhm yes.
I turned around, and he wasn't there. We had only turned our backs for barely thirty seconds. Panic rose very quickly, but suddenly I spotted him in the distance, on the street across, where Pierre lived. I hadn't told him, but his family had been split up and kidnapped all the way to Germany. And we needed to leave before it was our turn to be taken there. I didn't even know what was happening to us Jews. But after seeing soldiers shoot young people wearing the star in the street, it proved that everything happening in Germany must be horrible.
-Henri!
He didn't hear me.
-HENRI!
-Mom, I want to say goodbye to Pierre.
-We don't have time, my darling, come here right now.
I prayed inwardly for him to hurry; if we were noticed, our entire escape plan would be over. Suddenly, a drunk man staggered into the alley; he was wearing a soldier's uniform.
-Henri, come right now!
Henri didn't move, he stayed at the door as if someone were about to open it, and at that moment I had never yelled at my son so much.
-HENRI, this is me asking you now.
-HEY, YOU THERE, SHUT UP! the man shouted.
The panic kept rising. A hand touched my back.
-Suzanne, we need to leave now. Henri, come here!
The drunk man was getting closer and closer to us, and didn't seem to appreciate our presence. My eyes couldn't stop staring at his hand holding the weapon; from one second to the next, a bullet could be fired at one of us. Paul started running to grab Henri. With everything that was happening, I forgot that he was only five years old and that he didn't understand what was going on, but I wished that for once, he would listen to us.
A gunshot rang out. My gaze turned to the soldier, then to the weapon; my heart was beating so hard it felt like it would burst out of my chest. Henri was on the ground and Paul remained frozen at the scene. The pain was so intense that I fell to my knees on the ground. A scream of pain came out, but I couldn't manage to say a single thing. Paul carried Henri to the car.
-GET OUT OF HERE, YOU FILTHY JEWS!
Those are the last words I heard from that man, the killer of my son.
Hours later.
We were on the road; no words had come out of our mouths. Paul's fists had white knuckles from gripping the steering wheel so tightly. While I held Henri in my arms, the blood flowing from his body had dried; my tights are now red.
Suddenly the car stopped, in the middle of nowhere. When the only sound that managed to break this macabre silence faded to nothing, Paul turned toward me, his eyes red.
-We have to bury him.
My look made him understand that I had no desire to let him go. Having him in my arms made me believe that he was only sleeping peacefully.
-Please, Suzanne, I don't want to see him like this anymore.
I shook my head negatively; I couldn't let him leave me, especially in this way. I felt Henri's body being taken forcefully by Paul's hands. I tried to hold on to him, but I didn't have the strength to keep him with me. I got out of the car; the rain hit my face. I saw Paul walking into the field, getting farther and farther from the car while carrying Henri in his arms. I started running; when I reached him, I grabbed his shirt with my fingers.
-Give him to me.
-No, Suzanne, we have to bury him.
-NO! Give me my son, Paul.
His look made him understand what I had just said.
-That's not what I meant, but let me keep him, please.
-Suzanne, what do you want us to do? He's dead. That man killed him, and I can't see my son in this state anymore. I just want to know that he's safe and at peace.
-I'll… I'll go get the shovel.
The rain clouds finally left, but my tears were still there. Paul was digging and throwing the earth onto the farmland of the field. During those moments, I admired my son's face; I took him in my arms and held him very tightly, as if to say goodbye to him.
-It's done. Paul said.
I handed Henri to Paul; his eyes were filled with tears. He gave him a kiss on the forehead and placed him in the hole. We stayed for a long time looking at our son before covering him with earth.
…
Basel, May 1940.
-Suzanne, I know it's hard to talk about your son, but I'm sure that talking about it would help you feel better, she said, exhausted.
I sighed and decided to explain to her what had happened.
One hour earlier.
-Suzanne, you could be nicer, you know. Every time I come home from work, you barely look at me.-I don't think that looking at you would change much in your life.
-I can't take this anymore. I'm tired of seeing you all cheerful with the neighbors, but as soon as the door is closed, I don't recognize you anymore. I miss my wife.
-And I miss my son, so honestly, I don't care what you think of me!
-You think I don't miss him? What do you think, that I've moved on as if he had never been there? I love my son. Seeing him get killed by that man showed me how weak I am.
I didn't dare say anything anymore; tears took hold of me and fell to the ground.
-I'm so sorry for what happened, but come back to me. Become that woman I fell in love with again.
Anger replaced the tears. I grabbed plates and threw them at him. He barely dodged them.
-Suzanne, calm down.
-How do you expect me to calm down? I have nothing left. The day Henri left, you left too. When we first lived here, you barely spoke to me, and now you're lecturing me for being too sad. You're mocking me, I said while throwing food that was lying around in the kitchen.
He grabbed my wrists, my hands still covered with soap. He held them so tightly that I couldn't even move my arms anymore.
-Listen, I'm sorry for everything we're going through, and you don't deserve any of this, but I love you and I don't want to leave you in this state, he whispered.
I started crying; I felt him release my wrists and wrap his arms tightly around me. And for the first time in a long while, we kissed.
-I'm going to work.
I nodded my head and told myself that this conversation was a good thing, otherwise I think I would have let myself be consumed by sadness.
Now.
-And I realized that I let myself be consumed by the sadness of his loss, but I had forgotten that my husband was there.
-Oh Suzanne, if I had known everything you went through after that loss, but also why you didn't talk to me about it, because I don't want to leave you in this state either.
-Thank you, Ruth, sincerely, but I think that on this side, my husband will take over, since we're living the same thing.
-Ruth? a man asked in the hallway.
-It's Heinrich, I'm sure of it.
-Okay, I'll go see. Don't move.
I opened the door, and I had barely caught sight of him when he entered.
-What happened, and why is the door locked?
-Heinrich, men came in and tried to take Ruth. I managed to knock them out, but we'll have to do something.
-It was the grocer and a German soldier, Ruth said.
-Fuck, I knew he wasn't right.
-What do we do? I asked.
…