Wildflowers of Terezin by Robert Elmer Page A

pushed the door shut, and they snapped on the hall light.
     

     
    Steffen blinked his eyes to see five frightened people, not just the four he'd been expecting. Still lovely in a dark overcoat and scarf, Hanne Abrahamsen made brief introductions.
    "This is my mother, Elsebeth." She pointed at an older woman, perhaps seventy, but wearing a wide-eyed expression of fear that added years and made her resemble a frightened animal. Even so, the stooped woman nodded politely even as she kept the scarf over her head in place. Next Hanne indicated a couple standing just inside the door, every bit as reluctant to remove their coats.
    "Mr. and Mrs. Levin," said Hanne, "and their friend Elias."
    Elias seemed to force a tiny smile.
    "We're imposing on your kindness," said Mr. Levin, in thickly accented Danish. He could have been Austrian, perhaps German. His guttural accent reminded Steffen of the way German soldiers sometimes butchered their Danish, often mixing in foreign words or confusing matters by imposing that peculiar German word order. "But we have no relatives here, and no other place to go. Only Elsebeth was kind enough to tell us of her daughter, that's Hanne, and Hanne said—"
    "Pardon me for interrupting." Henning cleared his throat."But we should probably show them to their room, shouldn't we, Steffen?"
    The newcomers looked at Steffen, then at Henning, before addressing Hanne.
    "Wer ist das?" he asked in German, but his wife just poked him in the side and would not tell who it was.
     

     
    "Danish, only Danish," she scolded him. "No more German. I'm never speaking that language again, and neither will you."
    Her husband frowned but listened.
    "This is my brother, Henning." Steffen answered the question, which his high school German had helped him understand. "He's the one with contacts in the Underground, and he's going to be helping arrange your passage to Sweden as soon as he can. Meanwhile, you're going to need to stay here, as quietly as possible, and without showing yourselves in the main or upper portions of the building. Certainly not in the sanctuary. Never in the sanctuary."
    "And not here," Henning told them. "Your room's down this hall."
    Even with his words of encouragement they didn't move as they looked around the dimly lit back room, as if they still didn't understand. Hanne's mother clung to her daughter's arm, tears welling up in her eyes. Henning looked at them with a puzzled expression.
    "They've never been inside this kind of building," Hanne finally explained. "They weren't so sure it was a good idea to come here. I had to convince them."
    "Oh, I see." This time Steffen tried to sound reassuring as he led them toward their hiding place. "Well, we've tried to make it as comfortable as possible for you down here. Henning has even helped me prepare some blankets and things for you.Nice and hyggeligt. Cozy, you know? It won't be long before we'll get you a boat and away to Sweden, where you'll be safe.Henning's friends are working at it. Meanwhile, you can be reassured that no one will find you here."
    "Absolutely," added Henning, taking a couple of their frayed carpetbags in tow. "And my brother won't make you take communion, either."
     

     
    Henning was the only one who chuckled at the joke, which seemed so obviously out of place. The refugees looked at one another with worried glances. Still they followed him down the hall toward the hiding place under the stairs.
    "I apologize for my brother," Steffen whispered to Hanne as they followed the others down the hall. "He means well.But you'll be comfortable here for the time being."
    Hanne shook her head.
    "Actually, I'm not going to be staying here," she told him in a low voice.
    "What? I thought you—"
    "I only came to help my mother and her friends."
    "But . . . you're in just as much danger as your mother.Surely you know that. In fact, you must stay here. They'll find you."
    Still she shook her head, obviously determined.
    "My place is in the