Читать книгу Behind the Bedroom Wall - Laura E. Williams - Страница 10

Chapter Four

Feet pounded up the narrow stairs, and her parents burst into the room. “Liebling, what is it? Stop screaming!” Her mother wrapped her up in her arms.

Korinna took a sobbing breath. She hadn’t even realized she was screaming. She pointed a shaky finger. “Back there! Something’s back there!”

“Hush, hush,” her mother crooned.

Korinna tried to pull out of her mother’s arms. Her father pulled the thick curtain over the window. The room was dark until he lit a couple candles.

Korinna scrubbed away the tears on her cheeks, wondering why her father didn’t just turn on the overhead light. “Monsters, Papa! I have monsters behind my wall!” Her stomach churned with fear.

“It’s not monsters, Liebling,” Herr Rehme said softly. He looked at his wife and his shoulders sagged as though he carried some great weight. “Those are people back there.”

A fierce dread washed over her, strangling her. Korinna gasped for air.

“Jews,” her mother said, still holding her daughter’s shoulders. She gave them a little shake. “Did you hear me, Korinna?”

Korinna nodded mutely. Tears burned her eyes, and her fingers ached from clenching them so tightly.

With a heavy sigh, Herr Rehme gently pulled the Schrank away from the wall. The candles flickered with the movement. The wardrobe moved silently. Now Korinna could see someone had carefully hinged it to the wall on the left side in such a way that the hinges were invisible from anywhere in her room. Only when someone pulled the wardrobe away from the wall were the hinges visible. Also, the hinges held the wardrobe a millimeter off the floor so its legs wouldn’t rub noisily on the wooden boards.

When her father completely “opened” up the wardrobe, Korinna once again stared at the gaping hole in her bedroom wall. Even knowing it was not monsters hiding in the blackness did nothing to calm her heartbeat.

Jews were worse.

Korinna’s mother crouched down next to the opening, which was half as tall as the shoulder high wardrobe. Korinna and her father stood behind her.

“Sophie, it’s okay. This is Korinna, my daughter,” Frau Rehme said gently.

A pale face, creased with lines of worry and fatigue, inched into the candlelight. Sophie’s thin neck ended in a drab green coat collar, which added a green pallor to her skin. Her dark and suspicious eyes stared up at them. “She’s the Nazi?” Her voice came out rough and crumbly, as if she didn’t use it much.

Ignoring the question, Frau Rehme said to Korinna, “This is Sophie Krugmann, and this is her daughter Rachel, who’s five.”

Rachel had a mass of curly hair that tumbled to her shoulders. Her wide eyes roamed the room and finally fell on Korinna. She smiled. Korinna glared at her until the little girl pulled back into the shadows, her smile gone, lips trembling.

Sophie hugged her daughter close and kissed the top of her head. When she looked up again, her eyes shone with unshed tears. “Are we safe with her knowing we’re here?”

Herr Rehme said, “It’s too dangerous to move you right now. Maybe in a week or two, but right now ...” His voice trailed off as he placed a hand on his daughter’s shoulder. “Right now we have no choice.”

Sophie turned to her young daughter and said, “I told you to wait until later.” Then she looked at Korinna’s mother. “I told Rachel to wait, but she gets so restless with nothing to do and no one to play with. She likes to walk back and forth, back and forth.”

So that’s what she had heard, Korinna thought, staring into the shadows. It had sounded like a trapped animal.

Frau Rehme smiled with understanding. “It’s all right, Sophie.”