The Muralist by B.A. Shapiro

Author:B.A. Shapiro [Shapiro, B.A.]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 978-1-61620-540-9
Publisher: Algonquin Books
Published: 2015-11-02T16:00:00+00:00

27

ALIZÉE, 1940

1 July 1940

Arles

Ma douce nièce,

Oncle has not returned and now Henri is gone, too. We have had no word from Babette. Alain and I are leaving Arles first thing in the morning. One of Oncle’s friends from university, Gaston Begnaud, is bringing us to his brother’s farm outside of Antibes near Juan-les-Pins where we should be safe. I will send you the exact address when we arrive so you will be able to contact us when you get the visas. People are still getting out, but the situation is growing desperate and we must work fast.

Every day they are taking more Jews away. Sometimes they shoot people. Whenever they want. For no reason. You remember Monsieur and Madame Milhaud from the pharmacy? Jean Plante? Old Mrs. Lunel? All gone just in this past week. We think to Drancy. So many others, too. The rabbi and his family have disappeared. There are terrible stories about trains going from Drancy to labor camps in Poland. I am sick with despair and worry, but try to stay brave for Alain.

I am sorry to burden you with all this, but it is vital you know what is happening so you can tell people in America. All of the rumors you hear are true. Even the ones you cannot believe. And there is worse to come, of this I am sure.

I cannot tell you how relieved I am that you are safe in New York. If only we had understood the danger and left earlier. But please do not despair and please continue to pursue the visas. Even though it is more difficult now, I believe once we have all the papers in hand, we will be able to come to you.

I have always loved you, my Alizée, deeply, completely, as a mother, and I always will. You must remember that our family is within you, that you will be able to carry all of us into the future. No matter what happens.

Now we no longer need just visas from America, now we need the United States to come to our aid. There will be horrors beyond anything anyone can imagine if your President Roosevelt does not declare war on Germany. There may be these same horrors even if he does.

I find myself unable to pray, for a god who would allow this to happen is no god of mine. I cry for my babies. I cry for the world.

Je t’embrasse fort,

Chantal

Alizée reached for her mother’s ring, grasped nothing. The room flattened, drained of color, became almost two-dimensional. She gasped for breath. Tante didn’t believe in God anymore.

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