Girl 38

by Eva Jozefkowicz

  ‘How?’

  ‘Well, I wondered if you still want to hear the rest of my story? I think you might find it interesting, maybe even a bit useful in the circumstances.’

  I was amazed at how she always knew the right thing to say.

  ‘Definitely. It’s what I came for.’

  She put down her paintbrush, covered Sommer with a clear plastic sheet, and moved round the table to sit opposite me. Then she smiled at me and her eyes creased up at the corners like they always did.

  THIRTEEN

  ‘The woman who had rescued us in her milk cart was called Ela. She ran a small farm with her son on the outskirts of the city. She was strict and reminded me of my headmistress at school, but I could tell straightaway she had a good heart. What I liked about her was that she was very organised, and at that point we needed somebody to tell us what to do.

  ‘She looked after us well and made sure I properly rested my ankle before helping the boys with gathering the corn. I was naïve because I imagined we would stay for a week, maybe two weeks, and then we’d be able to go back home to our families. But Ela’s friends and neighbours brought us news from the wider world that enemy soldiers were still in the area, and we’d be caught for sure. It had been early September when we boarded the train and now suddenly there was snow on the ground outside and Christmas was coming.’

  ‘You weren’t with your family for Christmas?’ I couldn’t imagine spending Christmas anywhere other than home.

  ‘No. I missed them desperately, and I couldn’t stop thinking about what they were doing. Who had taken over my usual job of decorating the tree with candles? Had my grandparents come over to visit? Did my family have enough to eat? There were rumours about food shortages everywhere. I wanted to send word to them that I was all right, but Ela advised me against it. She said that post was being intercepted and told me that I could put my family in danger if the soldiers knew I had escaped.

  ‘There wasn’t a day that went by when I didn’t think of Mila too. As I closed my eyes in bed at night, I would often see her. Sometimes she was sitting at the big old oak table in our kitchen where we used to do our homework together. I tried to believe that she had managed to get home and she was waiting for me to come back to her. But, on bad days, when I was feeling very, very sad or lonely, I saw her sitting in a dark room packed with other people, all shivering from cold, hunger and illness.

  ‘Ela bought me an exercise book. She thought I might want to write a diary to help fill my time while they were all working and I was resting. I knew straightaway that I would use it to draw my first portrait of Mila.’

  ‘You left, didn’t you?’ I guessed. ‘But not to go home. You left to find Mila.’

  ‘Yes,’ Ania said, looking at me, surprised. I was secretly pleased that I’d managed to get it right.

  ‘There was a night in early January when I had a dream. Mila was calling to me from across the fields, sending a Morse-Code signal which repeated the word “help” over and over. The light flickered through the dark and I ran towards it, but the closer I got, the fainter it became. Suddenly, I thought I could see her and my hand reached to touch hers, but then… my fingers gripped nothing but air.

  ‘Something broke in me the following morning, and I decided I couldn’t wait any longer. I needed to act.’

  ‘But how did you know what to do?’

  ‘Ah, I have always been a very good listener. I listened to the conversations of Ela’s clients who visited every day. I found out everything that went on in the outside world. Adam hadn’t been lying about the village created within the awful walls. The local shopkeeper, Mr Pasek, seemed to know the most about it. Like me, he had a Jewish friend who had been captured and sent there.

  ‘“The village is basically four streets,” he said. “The entrance is so narrow that only a single car can pass by. All the buildings within have been taken over by the devil’s army. There are food deliveries once a day but it’s barely enough to feed a quarter of the people.”

  ‘I could tell he wanted to do something to rescue his friend, but his fear was stopping him, and speaking to Ela was the only way he could make himself feel a little better.

  ‘Every time I got a new piece of information, I wrote down what I knew about the “devil’s village”, because that’s how I had started to think of it in my head.

  ‘The things I’d managed to find out were:

  1. It was in the city, about two days’ walk from where we were, going north.

  2. It was right in the centre of town, with the entrance near the old post office.

  3. This entrance was patrolled twenty-four hours a day by soldiers stationed outside.

  4. The walls were incredibly high, made of concrete slabs and topped with barbed wire.

  5. There were rumours that some brave people had managed to smuggle food in by throwing it over the lowest parts of the wall.

  6. I hadn’t heard of anyone successfully escaping.

  ‘I decided to tell Adam and Henryk about my plan. When I look back now, I think I wanted them to say I was mad and the whole idea would never work. That way, I could carry on living like Mr Pasek, telling myself I would help, if only it were possible. But it turned out the boys had a plan of their own.

  ‘“We’ve been meaning to tell you for a few days,” Adam said, looking at the ground. “Only we were worried about how you would take the news. We’re leaving at the end of the week to join the army. We can’t sit around here waiting for something to happen to us. We’re going to fight. We’re going to show them!”’

  ‘So when they said that, it made up your mind?’ I asked Ania. ‘You had to go and be brave. There were no excuses.’

  ‘Exactly. If they were going to risk everything and go into battle to save our country, then I would never forgive myself for not going into my own personal battle to save my friend.

  ‘I decided that it would be easiest to leave in the early morning when the rest of the house was asleep. I wrote Ela a thank-you note and left her a portrait I’d drawn of her working in the kitchen. Then, I packed a few bread buns, a flask of milk and some apples into a cloth sack, put on two of the warmest jumpers she’d knitted for me, and opened the door into the falling snow. When I realised that it came up to my ankles I almost changed my mind, but I thought about Mila sleeping in far worse cold every night, and I forced my feet to continue stamping through the white blizzard. By the time I got on to the main road, my legs were soaked through up to my knees.

  ‘Have you ever walked through a frightening area that you didn’t know, alone?’ Ania asked me.

  I shook my head. I’d once lost Mum on the beach when we were on holiday and it took us about fifteen scary minutes to find each other, but I knew that wasn’t the sort of thing that Ania meant.

  ‘It was awful, my dear Katherine. Every noise on that ghostly road startled me. Every whine of a fox, even the rush of wind in the cornfields made me stop and flatten myself to the ground.

  ‘I walked for hours and the worst part of it was I didn’t even know if I was going in the right direction. My ankle began to hurt again, I’d eaten all the food I’d taken with me – my body needed it to keep going – and I was running out of water. I was suspicious of every cart that went by, and I didn’t dare ask the drivers how far away I was from the town, because I was so scared of being taken straight to the soldiers.

  ‘When it started to get dark, I was delirious from tiredness, so when I heard the low whirring sound somewhere in the distance, I ignored it and carried on walking. But it got louder and louder. I realised too late that it belonged to a motor car, and by the time its beams illuminated my back, there was no running or ducking to be done.’

  My insides tightened. ‘Were they enemy soldiers? Did they take you to the camps after all that?’

  ‘It was two men from the enemy army. When they switched on their torches I could see the navy uniform. They spoke to each other in a language I didn’t understand, and I knew that I was
finished.

  ‘“What are you doing?” the soldier asked. He did not sound as cruel as the moustache man outside the church, or even the milk-truck soldier who had bullied Ela, but my voice still caught in my throat.

  ‘“Why are you walking at night on your own? I don’t need to tell you that it is freezing and dangerous out here.”

  ‘I just stood there and I couldn’t say a word, but he didn’t give up on getting an answer from me. He walked closer and waited a short distance away, his torchlight focused on the lower part of my face so that it didn’t blind me. Then I heard the footsteps of his colleague coming closer.

  ‘“I’m looking for my friend,” I eventually managed to say. “I know that she is in the city and I’m going to find her. I wanted to get some transport, but I couldn’t, so I’m walking.”

  ‘None of it was technically a lie, but I avoided giving details because I still hoped that they might let me go if I didn’t act suspiciously.

  ‘“I see,” said the soldier. I heard a note of disbelief in his voice. He sighed. “Sommer, this girl is searching for a friend.”

  ‘The name sparked a memory in my mind, and I studied the second man as he approached. His colleague turned the torch beam on to him and my heart leaped. It was the soldier who had let us go free when we were in the milk cart. I saw that he recognised me too.

  ‘“I know. I heard what she said,” Sommer answered, and, after a pause, he suggested, “I think we should take her to the city.”

  ‘I had no way of guessing what he was planning, but, strangely, his colleague agreed with him. He opened the door and motioned for me to get into the back of the car.

  ‘For a second I thought about running, but it was madness. I wouldn’t have got anywhere far on the icy ground, in the dark. So I gave in – I had to. I stepped into the back of his car.’

  *

  I was still imagining Ania trudging through the snow as I sat in my bedroom later that evening working on the comic.

  I stared at Girl 38, who had just caught sight of the Vilk emerging from between two shadowy trees.

  ‘What would you have done?’ I asked her, but she looked as frightened as I was.

  FOURTEEN

  Next day, First Mate Hawk Eye had to stay on the ship with Captain Eagle Heart so she sent Girl 38 out on her own. But almost as soon as she set off, Girl 38 saw that the Vilk she’d been running from yesterday was still following her. This time, he was so close that she could look him straight in the eye, and when she did, she realised that he wasn’t half as frightening as she had imagined. In fact, he was looking at her as if he wanted to be friends. She dared to allow him to move closer, and he gently brushed against her with his tail, encouraging her to follow him.

  ‘How ya hanging?’ asked Mum when she came into the kitchen and saw me drawing. ‘What are your plans today? Are you chilling with your bros?’

  When I didn’t laugh, she came over to give me a hug. ‘Are you OK, darling?’

  I nodded. I was far from OK, but I wasn’t sure how I would even begin telling her what was wrong.

  ‘Want to come into town with me? Dad’s playing football this morning and I thought I would take advantage of the good weather and check out the new flower market that Rhonda at work’s been going on about. Apparently they have loads of deals on bouquets. It might be good fun, and then we can go for lunch. What d’you think?’

  I would have loved to spend the day with her doing exactly that, but it wasn’t possible. I knew that Gem would hunt me down if I told her that I couldn’t come to hers and, anyway, I wanted to get my phone back.

  ‘I can’t. I’m sorry. I have to go to Gem’s.’

  ‘You don’t have to do anything,’ said Dad, coming into the kitchen with his football kit. ‘Tell her you can’t go if you’d rather do something different. I would, if I were you.’

  ‘No, it’s OK. I want to go,’ I said. I tried to sound cheerful, but even I could tell that it wasn’t convincing.

  They both threw me a sceptical look, but didn’t say anything.

  I decided that before I faced Gem and everything she had in store for me, I would spend some time with Ania. I hoped that being with her and hearing more of her story might help me with the rest of the day.

  It was a wonderfully warm autumn morning and Ania had thrown her living-room windows wide open, as if to welcome in the sunshine. She was holding a croissant in her hand as she opened the door.

  ‘Good morning,’ she said, and I realised, pleased, that she wasn’t surprised to see me. I was beginning to feel completely at home in her house. ‘I was just having some breakfast.’

  ‘I’ve already had mine, but shall I make us some tea?’ I said. ‘I want to hear what happened after you got into Sommer’s car. Or do you have other plans for the next hour?’

  ‘No plans, except sitting here by the window,’ she said. ‘What is the word that you use for enjoying the sun? Almost like a cat?’

  ‘Lounging?’

  ‘No it begins with “b” – “basking”, that’s it,’ she announced. ‘You go and put the kettle on, and then I will continue speaking as we bask.’

  Moments later, we were seated in the conservatory, looking out on a space which was no longer the Jankowski Jungle. Then Ania closed her eyes, and I decided to shut mine too, so that I could see her world completely.

  ‘Sommer’s car had a leathery smell which reminded me of my father’s horse saddles. In the front the two men continued their conversation in hushed voices. I had no idea what they were saying, but I was relieved they weren’t angry. I was so exhausted that I didn’t even realise when I fell asleep.’

  ‘You fell asleep? How could you? What if they did something to you…?’

  ‘I know, Katherine. I cannot explain it, but somehow I felt safe knowing that Sommer was there. I had started to see him as a good omen, or a guardian angel. I woke up to him calling out to me, worried. His colleague had gone.

  ‘“I dropped the commander at his quarters en route. You were asleep,” he said, when he saw me looking around the car. “Are you a bit warmer now? Can I ask – what is your name?”

  ‘“Ania.” I didn’t see a reason to hide it from him. “Why are you helping me?” I asked him quietly.

  ‘“Because when I saw you lying there, hiding among those milk barrels, you reminded me of my own daughter,” he said. “The commander thinks I’m taking you to the labour camp in the north of the city. He thinks that you are fit to work in the fields.”

  ‘I nodded. I understood. This was the best that he could do for me. He needed to follow orders.

  ‘“But where do you want me to take you?” he asked.

  ‘“Oh, anywhere. As close to the city as possible,” I said.’

  ‘Were you scared that he might get mad at you?’ I asked her. I could never imagine myself being so brave with an enemy soldier.

  ‘Of course. But I had changed since I left home. Sometimes I did not recognise myself – I was desperate, and I think that made me bolder.

  ‘Sommer insisted that I wasn’t allowed to walk alone in the city at night and that I needed to give him an address to take me to. I told him that I only knew that the place was near the old post office. It took a couple of seconds for him to realise what I meant. When he did, his expression changed.

  ‘“Are you saying your friend is inside the ghetto?”

  ‘Ghet-to. The word tripped off his tongue like a rhyme. I’d heard it before, being spoken by Ela’s neighbours, and by Adam and Henryk, but it was only from Sommer’s lips that it sounded real.

  ‘“Yes. I’m not sure, but I think so.”

  ‘“Why do you think so?”

  ‘“She’s from a Jewish family and she was snatched from outside our church…” I remembered the exercise book in my pocket. I opened it to the page with Mila’s portrait and showed it to Sommer.

  ‘“Mila Kaufmann.” He read my scribble in pencil at the bottom. Then he rubbed his face with his hand and balanced
his elbows on the steering wheel. We sat in silence for a few moments, the cobbled street stretching ahead. There were dots of light from street lamps in the distance, but I could tell that the black sky was already lightening. Soon it would be morning and daylight would catch us.

  ‘“Ania,” he said eventually. “Forget about your friend. It might be that she was never there. Or it could be that she’s no longer here.”

  ‘My fists tightened by my sides. “I can’t. I promised her. I promised her I’d do everything I could to find her. And so far, I haven’t done everything.”

  ‘He sighed and looked me straight in the eye. It was a chilling look, as if he was trying to tell me something important without words.

  ‘“I’m going to get out here. Thank you for everything,” I said to him and I opened the door to leave. I was worried that he might suddenly change his mind and drive me straight to the labour camp.’

  ‘But he didn’t?’

  ‘No. He told me he knew a place I could stay for the night. Before I could protest, he’d started the car again, and we were driving swiftly through empty streets. We stopped outside a bakery. Sommer ushered me out of the car and walked around the side of the building. Here there was a small door, almost invisible from the main street. He brought his finger to his lips, then he rapped on it three times and we waited.

  ‘The man who opened it was old and bald. He was dressed in nothing but a pair of cloth trousers and battered boots, and his skin was brown and leathery. When he saw Sommer, he motioned for us both to come in. The sudden temperature change made my whole body shudder. I could see the huge ovens at the back of the room, and there was an overwhelming smell of fresh bread.

  ‘“Sorry for coming unexpectedly, Roman,” Sommer said.

  ‘“All your visits are unexpected, but you are always welcome here. You know that. Can I get you something to eat?”

  ‘And before we had a chance to answer, he was inviting us to sit at the table, and he brought a plate of bread rolls with a slab of butter.