(A Holocaust Story, Book #2)
By Fred Raymond Goldman
Publisher: Historium Press
Pages: 272
How do you reconcile a decision you made in the past when the world erupts in war, threatening the life of someone you love and believe you were protecting?
Adrian Mazurek immigrated to the United States from Krakow, Poland, 14 years ago and is now a successful violin soloist and concertmaster of The Eleventh State Symphony Orchestra in New York. But despite his outward success, Adrian is inwardly harboring a shameful secret, one he has not revealed to anyone.
However, that is about to change. Adrian plans to propose marriage to Suzanne, but he knows he must tell her the truth about his past before doing so. Riddled with guilt and shame, Adrian can barely look at himself in the mirror. How can he look Suzanne in the eyes and tell her that he left his infant son, Simon, in the care of his aunt and uncle in Poland 14 years ago? If only confessing the truth to Suzanne was the most difficult part.
Adrian soon learns that Germany has invaded Poland and World War II has begun. Fearing the Germans will learn that his son is of Jewish heritage, Adrian must do something to ensure Simon's safety. But what? And will Suzanne stand by his side or will she turn away because of his deceit?
Excerpt
Before Adrian could retrieve his violin from the secret panel in the foyer, the contessa pulled him aside to thank him for making the evening a success. She cupped one cheek, kissed the other, and looked him in the eyes like his mother had when she was pleased with him. This act of affection reminded him how much he missed the touch of his mother. He remembered playing for her in the kitchen one evening while she was preparing dinner. When he hit the wrong note, she stopped stirring her soup, came behind him, and gently guided the bow with one arm and helped him finger the proper notes on the fingerboard with the other. She went quietly back to her stirring when she felt he played it correctly. It was moments such as these he felt his mother’s love. Adrian returned the contessa’s kiss with a kiss on her cheek. As he walked away from the contessa, Adrian heard her tell the count she was exhausted and was going to bed.
Suzanne and Mr. Reitman were waiting for Adrian by the elevator with their coats on. Paul helped Adrian with his coat. Adrian stepped onto the elevator still thinking of the contessa’s touch and the memories it stirred. After the door closed, he realized he’d left his violin behind. The elevator started moving. Paul said it was too late to go back. He’d take Adrian to the apartment when they reached the lobby.
Once back in the foyer, Adrian retrieved his violin. The side door beyond the staircase was open. Adrian heard the count talking. He began to walk toward the elevator but stopped short when he heard the count shout, “Heil Hitler,” and other voices respond, “Heil Hitler.”
Adrian listened as the count spoke about the invasion of Poland and the Reich’s need for money for munitions, to build railroads, and to feed the German army. He asked them to give generously to “the cause” by donating their jewelry and American dollars. Adrian stood frozen between two impulses, one to escape before anyone discovered he’d overheard their discussion and the other to stay and listen to what was happening. He’d heard enough. His desire to escape won out. Adrian moved to the elevator quietly where Paul was waiting to return him to ground level. The shock of what Adrian had overheard took away his euphoria. It was replaced by a sudden coldness that hit him at the core. He thoughts became fuzzy. He needed time to pull himself together.
Adrian was quiet in the limousine on the way home.
Suzanne laid her head on his shoulder. “What’s on your mind?” she said.
“Nothing, I’m just tired. I was more nervous than I thought I’d be. A lot was placed on my shoulders tonight. I’m a little stressed out. Plus, all that wine at dinner didn’t help any.”
“The contessa did go all out, but look at the money she raised,” Mr. Reitman said. “Don’t sell yourself short, Adrian. You were brilliant, and it will help the symphony and your career immensely, and that little surprise of yours, pure inspiration, Adrian, pure inspiration. Get some rest tonight you two.” The driver waited until a doorman escorted Mr. Reitman into his apartment building.
When the limousine pulled up to Suzanne’s town house, Adrian took Suzanne’s hand and said, “Would you mind if I didn’t come in this evening?” He asked for her forgiveness. “I’m tired, and I just need to go to bed.”
“I thought you might like to come in and celebrate,” she whispered in his ear.
“Not tonight,” he said, aware of her disappointment.
He walked Suzanne to her door and unlocked it for her. When he leaned to kiss her she turned her head and ran inside, slamming the door in his face.
Adrian felt bad, but the truth was too many memories had surfaced in him tonight that wore on his emotions. Those and the accidental witnessing of the meeting in the side room next to the stairs confused him and raised his concern for the contessa. He was convinced she had no awareness of the count’s involvement in such activities. His affection for her led him to worry what effect this would have on her if it were to become public.
These thoughts swirled around in his head as he entered his apartment. He kicked off his shoes, yanked off his tie, and dropped into bed, otherwise fully dressed, and he fell fast asleep.
