CHAPTER ONE
Tel Aviv, Israel
2002
AT A SMALL table in the corner of a Tel Aviv bakery, a man sat studying financial papers and enjoying his morning cup of coffee. Suddenly his attention was drawn to two little giggling girls. The minute they entered the store, they excitedly rushed over to the bakery display, and pointed out their selections. The man watched them and smiled. They reminded him of his grandchildren. The woman with the girls tried her best to calm them down, but she had limited success. She leaned forward, had a short conversation with the salesclerk, and then pulled her girls aside to discuss their behavior. A moment later, the girls were handed their sweets in paper packets. The older of the two walked by the man’s table, held out her doughnut, and said, “I got chocolate!” Not to be outdone, the younger child rushed over to show him her selection, but she stumbled, tripped, lost control over her sweet roll, and flipped it right onto his stack of papers. The little girl froze, turned around, and burst into tears.
The woman hurried to the table, took her child’s hand, and smiled apologetically at the man. “I’m so sorry, sir,” she said in Hebrew. “Becky’s excitement sometimes gets the best of her. Allow me to clean it up.”
“No, no, it’s not necessary,” he said, returning her smile. “No harm done.” He gestured to the salesclerk to prepare another sweet roll for the little girl.
“You are so kind,” the woman said. “They get so riled up. They love doughnuts.”
“So do I,” he replied, patting his stomach. “Maybe a little too much. And you have delightful children.”
“Very kind of you,” she said. “But they’re my grandchildren.”
His smile widened. “My goodness, you could have fooled me. By the way, I notice that you speak Hebrew with a Dutch accent.”
She nodded. “That’s true. Are you Dutch?”
“No, but I spend quite a bit of time there on business. In Utrecht. Are you familiar with Utrecht?”
“I should say so, that was my childhood home.”
“Really,” he said with raised eyebrows, “what a small world. Maybe I’ve come across your family in business. What is your father’s name?”
“My father?” she said, then paused. Tears formed in the corners of her eyes. “It’s a long story. I don’t know my real father. I have only scant memories of my real mother, my real father, or my sister. They tell me I was born in Amsterdam, but I don’t remember much about that either. I was raised in Utrecht by my second family. But I didn’t call them vader and moeder. I called them tante and oom.”
He nodded. “Aunt and uncle.”
“Yes, they preferred it that way, in case my real mother and father should ever come for me. When I came to live with them, they changed my last name and called me by their family name. I’m not sure why. Their name was Leisner. I don’t know what my name was before that.” She shrugged.
“Well, it’s very nice to meet you, Ms. Leisner. But regretfully, I have never met the Leisner family in Utrecht.”
“Well, it’s nice to meet you, as well. Actually, I’m Karyn Sachnoff now, not Leisner. My married name is Sachnoff.”
“And my name is Burt Franklin,” he said, holding out his hand. “It’s very nice to meet you, too, Karyn Sachnoff. And I apologize for being so nosy.”
Karyn smiled. “Oh, you’re not nosy. It’s kind of refreshing to talk to someone about the early years. I try to remember them from time to time, but I was very young. My aunt and uncle refused to talk to me about the years when I came to live with them. Whenever I brought up the subject, they shook their heads. Even when I was older, they still refrained from discussing the Netherlands in the ’40s. Just that they were difficult times. I know I had a sister, but she didn’t move with me. Even though I longed to find out what happened to my sister, the subject was closed. Those years were too depressing, they said, and they didn’t know my sister, we weren’t adopted together. So, I never knew what happened to her.”
Karyn was lost in a thought or two, and then she looked at Burt and she smiled. “My sister’s name was Annie, and I loved her very much. I can’t tell you my real mother’s or father’s names, but I sure remember Annie.”
“Did she move anywhere near you?”
“Not that I’m aware, I’m afraid. We were split up. I have no idea where Annie went. She could be anywhere now, and I have no idea where, or what her name would be. But I’m sure she’s alive.”
Burt showed a bit of surprise. “Really?”
Karyn nodded affirmatively. “Oh yes. We were alive together when they came to take me, and Annie was taken by someone too. Somewhere. I don’t know where, but I know she’s alive. I can feel it. There is a connection between sisters; it’s mystical. I hear her talk to me sometimes at night.” Karyn smiled. “I know she’s alive.”
Burt raised his eyebrows. “Well, she certainly could be. There were a lot of children adopted during the war years.”
Karyn paused for a moment, and her lower lip quivered. “I’d give anything to find her. I’ve tried and tried, I’ve almost given up hope. It’s impossible.”
“Maybe not,” Burt said. “There are records…”
“No, no, no, I’ve searched all the official records,” Karyn said with a dismissive wave of her hand. “It’s all a waste of time.”
“Well. I’m not really talking about official records,” Burt said. “There are some people who privately retained records, or who have remarkable memories. In fact, I know such a man. He’s an American. He worked in Amsterdam for the State Department before the war, and then he stayed on during the war. The details of his life are something of a mystery.”
Karyn brushed away a tear. “Would he talk to me if I called him?”
Burt squinted his eyes. “To you? I doubt it. He’s an old man and rather grouchy. He doesn’t like to talk to people. In fact, he has an unlisted number and very few know it.”
“But you could talk to him?”
“And I do, he’s a cousin of mine, and in some ways, he’s like your aunt and uncle. He doesn’t like to talk about the war years, even with me. They say he was a hero, but I don’t know what he did. The war was very painful to him. In the few times when he does talk about the war, his memory is very keen. He has a photographic memory, and those pictures are stored away. His sense of recall is remarkable. He can see the things he is talking about.”
“I understand. Just like my tante and oom. Good memories, but locked away. Well, thanks for talking to me and—”
“Wait,” Burt said, holding up his hand. “Let’s do this: I’ll try to get in touch with my cousin and see if he’ll agree to talk to you. If he agrees, I’ll call you. But there is one problem: he refuses to speak Dutch anymore. It’s too painful.”
“That’s all right,” Karyn said. “I speak English. And French and Hebrew, and of course, Dutch. I used to be a features writer for the Jerusalem Times.”
Burt stood up. “Then let me reach out to him, Karyn. No promises, but you never know. Let me have your phone number, and I’ll call you.”
She bent down and wrote the number in his notebook. “Burt, I am very appreciative, but I have to tell you, I’ve researched and researched.” She shook her head. “It’s not possible.”
“Well, don’t give up. Teddy is quite the man. Let me talk to him.”
Karyn smiled. “Very well. If you are successful, I promise I won’t take up much of his time, just a moment or so to find out if he knows anything at all that would lead me to my sister.”
CHAPTER TWO
SEVERAL WEEKS PASSED without a word from Burt Franklin. Karyn didn’t really expect to hear. For a while, she harbored thoughts of reuniting with Annie. They filled her mind day and night. She recalled the few memories she still held of the two of them. Only fragments of memories: a birthday party; a boat ride on an Amsterdam canal; the two of them singing songs on the floor of their home; being taken in a truck to some big, smelly room; and those days where Karyn sat silently at some crowded day care facility wrapped up in Annie’s arms. She had loved Annie and her family so much. Being ripped away from them had hurt deeply. It still did. But she carried her memories; at least she had those. That’s why the phone call was such a total shock.
“Karyn, it’s Burt. Burt Franklin. Remember me?”
“Do I remember you, of course I do. From the bakery.”
“Right. Well, Karyn, I have good news.”
Karyn listened and her heart jumped. “Oh, Mr. Franklin, I’m not sure what to say. What is the news? Will the gentleman agree to talk to me, even just for a few minutes?”
“Oh, he’ll talk to you, all right, but not on the telephone. He doesn’t like telephones, remember? And please, call me Burt.”
“Okay, Burt. But if he won’t use a telephone, how am I supposed to converse with him? Am I to give you messages to take to him?”
Burt chuckled loudly. “Burt, the carrier pigeon? No, I’m afraid not. If you want to talk to him, you’ll have to come to Washington. He’ll only talk to you in person. He said he would give you as much time as you needed.”
Karyn was floored. “I can’t believe it. That is incredible. I really didn’t expect this at all.”
“Neither did I,” Burt said. “As I was returning to Washington, I was thinking about you and about our conversation, and I thought if anyone could help you, it would be Teddy. His name is Teddy Hartigan. I hadn’t seen him in a while, and I owed him a visit anyway. So, I drove out there. He now resides in an assisted-living facility in Silver Spring, just outside of DC. And there he was, just as cranky as ever, but I have to tell you, he still looks pretty damn good. I do love the old guy. I told him all about you and your darling granddaughters, and about your futile search for your sister. He didn’t seem all that interested. I told him how I detected a Dutch accent in your Hebrew, and it still didn’t spark an interest. I told him that you write for the Times, that you were very personable and a delight to talk to, and he just stared into space. Then I asked him if he’d agree to talk to you, and lo and behold, he shocks me by saying yes. But … here’s the catch: he’ll only meet with you on two conditions. One, the meetings must take place in Silver Spring, at the home—”
“Yes, of course,” Karyn said. “And what was the other condition?”
“Well, you see, I told him you were a writer for the Jerusalem Times, and—”
“I used to, Burt, I don’t work for them anymore. I’m freelance now.”
“That doesn’t matter, Karyn, that’s even better. He wants you to write up his life story. He says he’s getting old and he wants to leave something behind for his grandkids. You know, like a lot of people who survived World War Two, he hasn’t been able to tell his story to them face-to-face. Throughout their whole life, he has not been able to talk to them about what happened to their grandfather. So, now he wants them to know who Grandpa Teddy was during the war. And in exchange for that, he will do his best to find out as much as he can about your sister.”
“Wow! That’s amazing,” Karyn said gleefully, “but how is he going to do that? I can’t even tell him the names of any of my real family members. Except Annie. I don’t even know what my family name was.”
“I told him that, and shrugged. He said he still has his connections back in the Netherlands. There are strings that he can pull. He’s pretty good at what he does, Karyn, and I have faith in him, even though he admitted it’s going to be a long shot.”
“So, he wants me to write his biography, and for that he’ll reach out to his contacts? This is crazy, Burt.”
“For sure. But, if I know Teddy, he would do more than just reach out. Hell, Karyn, I’d do it if it was me, I mean, if I was you. If there was a chance of trying to find my sister, even the slightest chance, I’d turn it over to Teddy. What do you have to lose? You’ll sit with him for a few days, give or take. You’ll jot down some notes, learn about his life, and draft a story for his grandchildren to read. And in exchange … well, he’s your best hope, maybe your last hope. Not many of them are alive anymore. Listen, he’s brilliant, honest, and cranky as all hell. But I’ll bet you’ll love him just like I do.”
“Okay, it’s a deal. When do we get started?”
“Well, I’ll be in Washington for the next two weeks. It would be best if I took you out there myself and introduced you in person.”
“I can’t thank you enough, Burt. Let me take care of a few things here and I’ll call you with an arrival date, maybe next week.”
“Great. See you then.”
CHAPTER THREE
Silver Spring, Maryland
BURT DROVE KARYN out to the Greenview Retirement Home in the afternoon. He had picked her up at Dulles International that morning and taken her to a hotel in Silver Spring where she would be staying. On the way, he told her again that Teddy could be grouchy and testy, and she shouldn’t take it personally. “That’s just the way he is. He’s not dangerous in any way, just caustic from time to time, and sometimes that hurts. If he gets like that, you tell him, and he’ll stop.”
“I’ve been a reporter for twenty-five years,” Karyn said, “I can take care of myself.” They parked the car in front of Greenview, entered the stately home, and walked down the corridor to Teddy’s apartment. Their knock was followed by a sharp “Who’s there?”
Burt and Karyn entered Teddy’s small one-bedroom unit, and Burt made the introduction. “Karyn, this is Teddy Hartigan, and Teddy, this is Karyn Sachnoff, the woman I’ve been telling you about.”
Copyright © 2024 by Ronald H. Balson
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