A few days later, Arvid returned home from work just as Mildred was leaving for the Abendgymnasium. Rudolf had come by the law firm that morning to ask if he should arrange a second meeting.
“I asked him to tell Harro that I appreciate his time and trust, but although I’m very interested, I can’t see him again,” said Arvid. “It’s simply too dangerous.”
Mildred agreed. It was some consolation to know that Harro would continue his opposition work with or without them. She wished him success, for they were on the same side even if they dared not work together.
Chapter Twenty-nine
January–February 1935
Sara
The first time Sara, Amalie, and their parents were permitted to visit Natan at KZ Oranienburg, they were escorted into a small office with one wooden chair and bars on the windows. Twenty anxious minutes later, Natan was brought stumbling into the room—handcuffed, filthy, unshaven, held upright by two guards, one on each arm. Bursting into tears, Sara’s mother hurried to ease him into the chair.
For a moment, Natan blinked at his family in disbelief. “Good to see you,” he said hoarsely, as if he were welcoming them to his flat and not to hell on earth. “Glad you could come.” A fit of coughing prevented him from saying more, but he managed a slow, ironic grin, revealing the gap of two missing teeth.
A guard remained in the room with them throughout their visit, but when Sara and Amalie pleaded, he unlocked Natan’s handcuffs so that he could eat some of the food his mother had packed. He chewed and swallowed slowly, carefully, as if his jaw pained him, but he saved most of the food to take back to his cell, along with the clean, warm clothes they had brought, several books, and a packet of letters from friends. Most were unsigned, with subtle clues only Natan would recognize to identify the authors, full of good cheer, innocuous enough to pass the censors.
While Natan ate, they shared news of the family and the neighborhood, carefully editing the facts for the guard’s ears. Natan said very little about the conditions he endured in the prison, but his thin, disheveled appearance confirmed their worst fears. His hair had been hacked off, his clothes were threadbare and stained, and a faint sour odor clung to his skin. Even so, his bloodshot eyes were alert, and he never cringed when the guards shifted their weight or touched the rubber truncheons on their belts. All the while, he held his left arm close to his side, and when Sara embraced him, he stiffened in pain.
Abruptly and all too soon, the guards ended the interview, but before they shackled Natan’s hands again, Sara darted forward to murmur in his ear, “We’ll be back to see you soon. We’re going to get you out of here.”
“Don’t bring Mutti next time,” he said, his voice barely audible. “Don’t let her see me like this.”
The guards took him away before Sara could vow that next time he would leave the prison camp with them. It was just as well that she had not given him false hope. A fortnight passed and a second visit was granted, but although Mildred’s contacts at the American embassy continued to pressure the commandant, he would not release Natan.
It was also just as well that Sara had not promised Natan to convince their mother to stay at home. When she tentatively suggested it, her mother drew herself up, pale and dignified. “Of course I’m going to see my boy,” she said. “Nothing would keep me away.”
The weeks passed. Twice each month Sara and her parents were granted an hour with Natan, and they were permitted to give him one small carton of food and clothing and necessities, carefully inspected at the entrance for contraband. Sara’s father learned to leave a bottle of schnapps or a tin of caviar on top as a bribe for the guard at the gate, swiftly pocketed as the family was waved through.
Weeks turned into months. Natan’s hair was hacked off again, and once he was given a rough, careless shave, leaving him with patches of stubble and skin scraped raw. His cough worsened as winter deepened, and he continued to lose weight, and they soon realized he shared the food they brought him with the other prisoners. “What would you have me do? Watch them starve?” he replied when they begged him to keep more for himself. “In my place, could you?”