Fiction
Date Published: 04-17-2025
In 1940, Leo Butlion, a young Jew studying to be a medical doctor in
Koblenz, Germany, has his future plans disrupted when Nazi forces destroy his
family and their business. His heroic escape and commitment to survive drive
him to overcome the greatest test man could ever encounter. Ivy Jacobson, a
deformed yet highly talented fashion designer, works in a textile factory in
Liege, Belgium that is ransacked by Nazi invaders. She escapes their brutality
and meets Leo. Leo explains the Hebrew word IYSH which means "champion" and
together they agree to persevere and champion the cause no matter how
difficult it becomes. Their heroism and tenacity unfold in dramatic fashion as
they are captured, separated and sent to concentration camps where their
future survival is unclear. The story develops from WWII until the Yom Kippur
War in 1973 which takes place in Israel.
Excerpt
Suddenly, Leo realizes it is the ninth of October. He recalls the journeys
that he made every year to Liege. Surprisingly, he has no sadness in
his heart. It tore him apart every year he went to Liege and
Ivy wasn’t there. Now he is over it.
Leo feels comfortable with himself, which allows him to gather
his thoughts and think of his future, rather than of the past.
The restaurant’s ambience has a calming effect on him, leaving
him at peace with his future plans. He takes a long time eating his
meal and watches the people; intrigued by the rich culture and
wealth on display. The upbeat outlook that so many have also
influences his opinion about the French’s attitude so soon after the war.
He notices the diamonds on the women’s fingers and their necklaces.
Everything they wear is arrayed in the finest gold and silver.
Their lavish garments all seem very expensive. He is amazed at the
demonstrations of their French culture that oozes out of every expression
and comment they make. It doesn’t take people long to get back into
their old way of life before the war, he says to himself. He drinks the
last of the wine and beckons to the waiter to bring him the bill. As he is
handed his bill, a couple arrive at the table next to him. She is in her
early fifties. Her partner, looking rather distinguished with snow-white hair
and wearing horn-rimmed glasses, pays Leo no attention. The gentleman
pulls out her chair for her to sit down. She says, in French, that she wants to
remove her outer coat. The aristocratic looking individual reaches forward
and helps her take off her coat. He throws it over the spare chair at their table,
leaving the collar and part of the sleeves hanging over in Leo’s
direction. Leo pays very little attention to them, leaving them to their own
affairs. He sits a few minutes longer, enjoying the patrons’ buoyant mood,
and he scratches at a few croissant crumbs on the white tablecloth. He then
looks across to the table where the distinguished couple is
seated. His eyes fall on the coat that hangs over the chair. To his
amazement, he reads the label on the coat, IYSH.
The nametag startles him, and he leans forward to take a closer look.
He reads the word Paris written below IYSH. Something jolts Leo. He
knows the Jewish word “Iysh” is not common, which means someone
must have a connection with Judaism. His heart skips a beat, and he again
focuses on the label, squinting his eyes to read it clearer. He turns to
the lady and asks, “Excuse me, Madam. Please, may I enquire,
where did you get this beautiful coat?”
She looks at him, and in fluent German replies, “She is a well-known
dress designer here in Paris. She designs all my clothes.
She has a number of specialty clients, and designs clothes
personally for us.” Leo gets a lump in his throat. He tries to swallow,
and asks her, “Do you know who she is?”
“Yes, I do. But, I speak more with her assistant who
helps me with most of my selections. Her name is Karen, and
she actually introduced me to her partner. She is a lovely young lady
who has a great future here in Paris.”
Iysh Design and Fashion Productions, 1470 LaMonde Drive,
Paris. Number 724 3421. Leo takes the elevator to his room, changes
into his pajamas, puts on his night robe, and walks out onto the room’s
private balcony. A miserable misty rain starts falling, yet it doesn’t
bother him. He stands on the balcony, looking down over the river and
city lights. There’s an old yearning that has returned in his heart. He is sure
that tomorrow he is going to meet Ivy.
He sleeps very little that night, partly because it is a strange bed,
and partly because of the excitement that awaits him the next morning.
Leo doesn’t wait for the elevator, but instead hurries down the
three flights of stairs to the ground floor and walks into the
breakfast room. He drinks a cup of coffee and has two slices of toast.
He has no appetite for anything else. He is dressed in a tweed jacket
with a white shirt and brown tie and a brown scarf that protrudes
boldly from his neck. He wears a pair of charcoal slacks and
black shoes and is very motivated because of what lies ahead of
him. He again leaves a large tip on the table, dons his overcoat,
and walks to the reception desk. He hands in his room key and leaves
the hotel. He waits a few minutes for a taxi, and by nine-thirty, he is on
his way along the side road next to the Seine River. They cross the
Pont-Neuf Bridge, and the taxi stops on the opposite side of the road,
across from a tall building on LaMonde Drive. “Thank you,” says Leo,
and he walks across the road onto the sidewalk in front of the building.
He stands at the main entrance reading the names of the tenants in the
building that are in a signboard on the wall next to the call button. On
the six floors there are at least forty tenants. He slowly lets his eyes run
down the board, reading each name individually, most of them in French.
Then, he reads, Iysh Design and Fashion Productions, Room 525.
He regroups his thoughts and emotions and rings the call button.
The security guard inquires as to the nature of his business. He calls out,
“525 Iysh Design, I am here to see the designer.” The door clicks and
opens for him to enter the building, and he walks towards the elevator.
The elevator is too slow and creaky for Leo’s liking, as it climbs to the fifth floor.
Eventually, it comes to a halt, and Leo walks out looking for room 525. It is a
huge floor with a number of offices leading off a long corridor. He is now so
nervous that he walks slower than normal. He struggles to put one foot
in front of the other. He braces himself as he arrives at two glass doors
that are well decorated. He notices the fine lace curtain, and letters written
in bold gold across the glass doors, “Iysh Design and Fashion Productions.”
Somehow, he says to himself, this looks like Ivy. He
pushes on the door, but it is locked. He looks through the glass
doors and sees someone sitting at a reception desk. She leans
forward and speaks to him through the security speaker that is
adjacent to the door. “Good Morning. Can I help you?” she asks in
a polite manner. “Good morning. I would like to see some fabrics. I
am from Cologne, Germany.” Leo needs to get in, and this is the
first thought that jumps into his head. “One moment, sir,” says the
receptionist. The lock on the glass door clicks free, and Leo walks in.
The lush white carpet under his feet looks very impressive. The
French style baroque furniture decorating the entrance hall, and the
beautiful large photos on the wall of all
the designs, catches his attention.
“May I be of service to you, sir?” asks the friendly receptionist.
“Ma’am, where is this dress designing shop?” asks
Leo excitedly.
“It is off the Pont-Neuf Bridge, close to the Seine River. It
is only a short distance fromthe Notre Dame Cathedral.
You can’t miss it. It’s a six story building, and I go there every so often
when my husband spoils me, and I can have clothes designed for me.
But why do you ask, sir?”
“I apologize for intruding,” replies Leo, this time more
enthusiastically. “I knew someone who used this word quite often,”
and he points to the label.
“Yes, it is rather a strange word,” comments the woman, who
obviously has no idea what it means. “However, there are a number
of us who enjoy her designs. A very intelligent, bright woman.”
Leo swallows again, clearing his throat, and looks at her husband.
“My apologies for interrupting your evening. May I ask one
last question?” The gentlemen smiles and gestures with his
right hand that Leo can proceed. Leo looks at the lady, and asks, “Do
you perhaps know this designer’s name?” “It escapes me for
the moment. I can’t recall it. But, if you are interested, give them a call
tomorrow, they are in the phone book. I think it is called Iysh
Design and Fashion Productions.”
From her tone of voice, Leo discerns that he has taken up too
much of their time. Leo hastily reaches in his pocket for a piece of paper,
and writes down the name. “Merci, merci,” says Leo very excitedly,
“I will most certainly call on her.” Leo leaves a handsome tip on the table,
and rushes out the restaurant. Now the desperate urge to find Ivy returns.
Could this be Ivy? This woman told me she is a young designer. This was
Ivy’s forte. She could well be living in Paris. No wonder I could never find
her in Liege. No wonder no one knew her whereabouts. Leo lets the
thoughts rush through his mind.
In his enthusiasm, he trips over the bottom step as he walks
down the steps onto the Champs- Elysees. He whistles as loud as
he can for a taxi. He pushes his way past a number of people also
waiting for a taxi and climbs into the first taxi that pulls up in front
of the restaurant. Back at his hotel, he again summons
the services of the friendly attendant and asks, “Please tell me,
what the address is and telephone number for this particular business?”
and he hands him the piece of paper on which he has written Iysh Design
and Fashion Productions. “Let me look it up in our directory, Monsieur,”
says the attendant. A few moments later he returns smiling at Leo, “Yes,
here is the address and telephone number.”
“Thank you very much,” says Leo and he reads the note,
SATURDAY, OCTOBER 10, 1957
His heart begins to flutter, and his cheeks flush as he stares
at the name. He sentimentally traces the name with his
forefinger, and stares at it a little while longer. After all the years
that have passed, has he finally found Ivy? As he sees the word,
Iysh he gets cold shivers down his spine. “Yes, please. Could I
see the person who owns this business? I would like to talk to them. I
have come from Cologne to see her.” While the receptionist has a
smile on her face, she does not appear too warm in her response
regarding his request. “One moment, please.” She leaves him
standing alone in the largewaiting area. A few moments later she
returns, and says, “Sir, please come with me.” They walk past a
few offices where people are sitting,
brooding over their work on their desks. Everything looks
up-market and professional,
the quietness at each workstation impresses Leo.
Leo is shown into Karen’s large office and sees her sitting behind
the desk. He approaches her and immediately notices that her face is
flushed, her eyes are blood red, and she has been crying, the reason
unknown to Leo.
“I apologize for interrupting you this morning,” he says.
Karen looks at him, offering no expression on her face and in a broken
voice asks, in fluent German, “How can I help you?”
He notices that her reply is distant and cold. He decides that before
he asks her if Ivy works there, he will help Karen. He says, “You do
not look very well. I am a doctor. What is it that ails you?”
“It is nothing,” says Karen. “And what can I do for you, doctor?”
“I need to ask you a very important question, madam.” Leo swallows
hard, looks into her bloodshot eyes and asks, “Does Ivy Jacobson work here?”
Karen looks at Leo, tries to force a smile, and answers, “She does not work
here. She owns this company. We are partners. My name is Karen, and who
are you?” Leo freezes as he stands in front of her desk. He swallows hard
a few times and replies, “My name is Leo Butlion. I knew Ivy a few
years ago.”
Immediately Karen’s eyes widen as she says, “Oh, wait a minute.
Are you the Leo Butlion that she knew many years ago, at the
beginning of the war?” “Yes, I am. Please, may I see her?
Is she here?”
Karen retracts again into her state of depression, and she
begins to cry, “No, I’m afraid she is not here.”
Leo feels his heart sink into his shoes. The old Liege disappointment
once again filters into his heart. He looks at Karen, and asks, “May I
ask where is she?” Karen begins to sob openly, and says, “I’m terribly sorry,
Doctor, but she is desperately sick in the hospital. I came from the hospital
early this morning, and the doctors don’t give her much hope.”
“What! What is the matter with her? Please tell me. Can I see her?” “I will take
you there, I promise. But before we go, please come with me.” They walk
into the office adjacent to Karen’s. As Leo walks in, he notices the beautiful
soft blue carpet and the magnificent gold embroidered chairs and table.
The fine laced linen sparkles, reflecting the message that the decorators
have fine talent. He looks at the beautiful desk at which Ivy normally sits
and immediately pictures her behind it.
Karen walks around to Ivy’s chair, reaches down to the right-hand
bottom drawer, opens it, and pulls out a sheet of paper that is in a soft
manila folder. She unfolds it, turns it around, and lays it on the desk
in front of Leo. She asks through her tears, “Do you think you can
recognize this?” Leo stares at the drawing that Ivy has made of
a man in a long white coat with Doctor LB written across the left
hand top pocket. “Oh, I don’t believe this,”
says Leo. This time tears wells up in his eyes. “Please, where is she?
I need to see her.” “Come, I will take you to her,” replies Karen.
Karen speaks in French to the receptionist, saying they will be out
for as long as it is necessary. She beckons to Leo, and they run
to the elevator.
The two run quickly out of the front entrance, and Karen suggests,
“Taxis are much faster this time of the day, so let’s find one. There
are usually plenty around here.” Karen waves down a passing taxi, the
two jump in, and she speaks in fluent French to the driver, stating that
he will receive a large bonus if he takes them to the Marie Antoinette
Hospital at great speed. She tells him in French, it is a matter of life and
death, and she asks him to put his foot down as hard as possible. He
turns on the car’s hazard lights, and keeps his hand on the horn, honking
all the way through the streets as they race the five miles to
the Marie Antoinette Hospital.
When they arrive, Karen hands the driver a bunch of francs and says,
“Keep the change.” She turns to Leo and says,
“Come, we must hurry.”
She runs ahead of Leo up the stairs. He is surprised at her
energy and enthusiasm. He senses that Karen knows something. As
they rush down the long hallway together,
passing nurses, doctors, and orderlies, he tries to get a word in
edgewise with Karen, “Why is she in hospital?”
She half turns to Leo as they race down the hallway, and says, “She
is very ill with pneumonia. But, I don’t think that’s the real reason
she is so sick.”
“What do you mean by that?” asks Leo. “I’m a doctor, and I know
what pneumonia can do to a person.”
“She has a broken heart!” Karen’s loud reply echoes down the long
hall. Immediately, Leo realizes that he is the cause of Ivy’s broken heart.
“Oh no, no! What have I done?” Guilt swamps his heart, and he starts
walking faster as he says, “I must get to her. Quickly, where is she?”
They run up the first flight of stairs. Karen, by now, knows the way very well,
and as they arrive at the special room where Ivy is kept, a doctor and two
nurses walk out of her room. Leo sees the doctor shaking his head and
mumbling something in French to the two nurses. Karen understands
what the doctor says, and then approaches him, speaking to him in French.
The doctor again shakes his head, saying, “No, no.” Leo plucks up the courage
and walks towards the door, only to be stopped by the nurses. Karen
persists with her request and mentions something
to the doctor in French. He looks more interested this time, and
turns to Leo. He says in broken German, “Welcome, Doctor Butlion.
I am afraid the news is not good. She is extremely weak, and I do not
give her more than a few hours to live. If you so wish, you may go in.
I mustwarn you though, she is very weak. Do not stress her or
make her get too excited. I don’t think her heart can take it.”
Leo thanks him and takes Karen by the arm. Together they walk
into the special room where Ivy is lying on her deathbed. Leo is the
first to enter the room. By the time he gets to her bedside, he has
taken off his large coat, and laid it on the floor. He walks around to Ivy’s
right-hand side and notices her lying with her eyes closed, breathing
very slowly. His medical experience tells him that she is either heavily
drugged, or in a coma. She lies motionless. He reaches down
and takes her right hand and squeezes it, expecting a response,
only to find nothing return.
He opens the plastic covering around her upper body and face,
leans over her, placing his left arm above her head on the top of the
pillow. He gently strokes her hair that lies matted against her forehead.
He then leans forward to her ear and whispers softly, “Ivy, please, this is
Leo Butlion. Can you hear me?”
He steps back slightly, taking his head away from her face, and
waits for a response. Nothing happens.
Karen stands at the foot of the bed and can’t see Ivy breathing.
By this time, tears stream down her face. The doctor has told her
Ivy does not have long to live, which Karen takes to heart,
thinking she has already passed on.
With no response forthcoming, Leo leans forward a second time
and whispers in her ear, “Ivy, its Leo Butlion. Please, can you hear
me?” Again nothing happens. Now he becomes more concerned, and
for the third time, leans forward, and calls her name again.
He waits. The few seconds are like an eternity. The first
response that Leo gets is Ivy’s slight squeeze of his hand.
Then he sees her open her eyes. He looks into her dark
blue eyes and smiles at her.
At that moment, Ivy takes a huge breath, and whispers,
“Leo ….” By this time, Leo can’t control his emotions. He
begins to cry openly as he leans over her. “Yes, it’s me, Ivy. It is.
It’s Leo,” he says as he holds her hand.
Ivy is exhausted, yet she manages to mumble again, “Leo ….”
“It’s been a long time,” he says, “but please, Ivy, you mustn’t
get too excited. You are too weak, and you need all your strength.
I promise you, I won’t leave your bedside.” Ivy’s chest is on fire,
making breathing too painful and difficult. She musters all the
strength she has and squeezes his hand. Leo returns the squeeze,
smiles, and quietly says,
“Please, don’t speak now, Ivy.” He looks into her eyes and
she offers him a smile. With tears streaming down his cheeks, and a
lump in his throat he softly whispers, “Iysh, my friend.”
She looks at him, struggles to breathe, and says, “Iysh ….”
About the Author
Greg Price is a writer, human resource expert and an ordained minister. He has traveled extensively throughout the world and shares his experiences by translating them into literary characters who inspire and motivate the reader. Greg immigrated to the United States from south Africa and currently lives with his wife in Mississippi.
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