What She Lost

by Melissa W Hunter

  “Do you remember when I said we shouldn’t give up hope, that our families might still be alive?” she asked. I nodded silently. “I don’t want to give up hope that I might be reunited with my family, but I also want to move on with my life. Don’t you?” she asked imploringly. I swallowed and nodded, knowing full well that moving on meant letting go.

  “Do you forgive me, Sarah?” she whispered, squeezing my hands.

  “Yes, Helena,” I whispered back. “Of course. I forgive you.”

  Thirty-Eight

  I tossed in bed that night, unable to sleep. The news Helena had shared with me left me feeling empty, despondent. I knew I should feel glad for her, but a small part of me felt betrayed. And Sam’s voice rang in my head as I closed my eyes. I kept hearing him shout the word whore. The insult burned in my heart and evoked memories I could no longer ignore. The image of the Oberfeldwebel’s face swam before me, the kindness he had shown turning to something darker in my memory, something sinister. I felt his hand on my arm as he whispered, “You’re just a child, aren’t you? So young and innocent. You must be scared. I’ll watch out for you, you pretty thing. Don’t worry, you’ll do fine here.”

  In my mind I saw the walls of his office, heard the static of the radio on his desk and the tapping of his pen against his chin as he stared at me. I shivered as I remembered standing before him, my knees weak from anxiety and fear. I buried my head under my pillow, trying in vain to forget, but the memories followed me into ugly dreams.

  The following morning, when I went to find Michal, he was gone. Instead, I found Sam sitting on his unmade bed, head in his hands; Michal’s bed appeared untouched. I stood in the doorway, looking silently around the room. Sam raised his eyes to mine and met my silence with his own.

  “Where’s Michal?” I asked finally. Sam sighed and ran his hand through the curls that were starting to grow back. Stubble grew on his cheeks and neck. He stood up and walked to the window, drawing the shade across the glass.

  “Where’s Michal?” I asked again, stepping into the room. “I want to talk to him. I want to apologize.”

  “For what?” Sam asked as he walked to the trunk he had shown me the other day.

  “For how I acted last night. I shouldn’t have run away like that.”

  Sam didn’t answer as I watched him. He took the key from the chain around his neck and opened the trunk. He then pulled a satchel from the small cupboard in the corner and knelt before the trunk. “What are you doing?” I asked.

  “Transporting these,” he said as he reached into the trunk and pulled out the guns and ammunition I had seen yesterday.

  “Will you get in trouble if you’re caught?” I asked, sitting on the edge of the bed.

  “Don’t worry about me,” he said.

  “How can I not, Sam?” I sighed, watching my brother. He continued his work in determined silence. I noticed that the nightstand where Michal kept his belongings was bare. I frowned and walked to the bureau where Michal stored his few articles of clothing and shoes. When I opened it, it was empty. I turned to Sam and saw that he was watching me.

  “Where is Michal?” I demanded now, my voice rising slightly. Sam stood up and zipped the satchel closed, throwing it over his shoulder. He turned to face me and said, “He’s gone, Sarah.”

  I felt my breath catch in my throat. “What do you mean?” I asked. “Where did he go?”

  “He left,” Sam said simply. “He decided to move on.”

  “No,” I whispered, beginning to pace. “You’re lying. He wouldn’t leave without saying good-bye.”

  “Why do you care so much?” Sam demanded.

  “What did you say to him?” I accused suddenly, turning on my brother. “Did you tell him to leave?”

  Sam didn’t answer, but I thought I saw a hint of guilt in his eyes. “He was your friend!” I cried. “He saved your life! Why would you do that?” I turned on my heels and stormed from the room.

  “Where are you going?” Sam called after me.

  “Don’t worry about me!” I yelled over my shoulder, throwing his own words back at him.

  I ran through the streets looking for Michal, but he had vanished without a trace. While many survivors were settling in Reichenbach and the surrounding countryside, still more were deciding to leave Poland for good. As I checked for him at the synagogue and the committee headquarters, running to the fields where the farmers were already busy with the day’s work, I feared that’s what he had decided for himself, slipping away in the middle of the night without so much as a farewell.

  When I returned to the hotel at the end of the day, feeling forlorn, Sam was waiting for me in the lobby. I was angry and didn’t want to talk to him, but as I stalked past, he stood up and grabbed my hand. “Sarah, come sit,” he said. “I have something to tell you.”

  I allowed him to lead me to a chair, where I sat with my arms crossed over my chest, staring into the empty grate of the lobby fireplace.

  “You didn’t find him, did you?” Sam asked softly.

  I shook my head.

  “Sarah, I’m sorry. I should have told you before now. I could tell how you felt about him.”

  My face grew hot. “What are you talking about, Sam?” I whispered, stubbornly avoiding his eyes. He leaned forward and said, “Sarah, Michal had a wife. Before the war.”

  Now my eyes turned to my brother, searching his face. Sam nodded, leaning back in his chair. “He told me about her while we were in the camps together. Returning to her was the one thing that kept him strong, kept him going every day.”

  Sam’s words hurt, but I didn’t want him to know how deeply they cut to my heart. “We decided last night it was time for him to find her,” Sam continued.

  “We ?” I interrupted. Sam looked away.

  “He is well enough now to travel. He didn’t want to hurt you, Sarah, but he couldn’t rest until he knew for sure what happened to his wife.”

  I accepted what he said, but I didn’t feel any better. I could tell there was something Sam wasn’t telling me, some hidden meaning beneath his words. “But why like this, Sam?” I asked. “Why didn’t he tell me this for himself? Why didn’t he wait until morning? Why didn’t he at least say good-bye?”

  When we were younger and Sam came home past curfew or got into a scuffle with some of the other boys and wanted to keep it from my parents, he would bite his lip or shuffle his left foot back and forth. I saw him do that now as he shrugged, looking away. And I knew Sam wasn’t telling me the whole story. Though I didn’t know what had happened between Sam and Michal, I felt sure I was one of the reasons they had parted ways.

  Thirty-Nine

  Reichenbach, Germany, late June 1945

  A crowd was gathered in the lobby of the hotel. I saw Helena talking to a few other women and walked to her. “What’s happening?” I asked as I joined them.

  “Someone bought the hotel,” she said. “The Russians sold it to a Polish innkeeper this morning. They just informed us.”

  “What does that mean?” I asked, glancing at the anxious faces around me. “Does that mean we’ll have to leave?”

  “I believe so,” Helena nodded. “I suppose we knew this wasn’t going to be our home forever.”

  “Sarah,” Sam called, pushing his way through the crowd. Some of the women in our small group looked at him and blushed. His health had returned, and with it the same good looks that once drew the girls’ attention back in Olkusz. His shoulders and arms had filled out, and his hair was now mostly grown in, thick locks of auburn that brushed the tops of his ears. His face was no longer emaciated by hunger, but a dark shadow still haunted his large round eyes. He ignored the women and took my arm, pulling me aside.

  “What is it, Sam?” I asked as he led me outside, where the air was heavy with the promise of a summer storm. Dark rain clouds kissed the peaks of the mountains in the distan
ce. There was a low rumble of thunder, and the wind caught my skirt and lashed it against my legs.

  “I knew something like this would happen sooner or later,” Sam said as he guided me under the eaves of the hotel. “That’s why I wanted to be prepared. Helping start a Jewish police force isn’t the only thing I’ve been doing with my Russian friend.”

  “Then what have you been doing?” I demanded. He looked at me sadly, almost guiltily. “I know you’re angry with me, Sarah,” he said, and I didn’t deny it. I was angry with him. I’d been angry ever since Michal had left, feeling Sam was somehow responsible for driving him away. I had been short-tempered and irritable with him in Michal’s absence. “All I want to do is take care of you,” he said. “That’s why I’ve been working with Rubin. He has found us a private home that we can move into. We will be sharing the house with two brothers who already live there. I can pay our way with my new job, so it will be ours. No one can make us move out.”

  The first raindrops fell, hitting my face and running down my cheek. I saw the townspeople running for cover under the awnings of the local shops. “What about Gutcha?” I asked. “She can come too, yes?”

  Sam was silent.

  “Sam?” I prodded.

  “Go find Gutcha,” he said. “I’ve already talked to her. She’s waiting upstairs.”

  “Sam, what is it?”

  “I promised I’d let her tell you.”

  With a feeling of foreboding, I backed away, a tightness in my chest. Rain dripped onto my face from the detailed stonework over the windows of the hotel. Overhead, the stone statues and gargoyles that perched near the hotel’s roof watched me mutely as I entered the building, leaving Sam alone in the rain.

  I found Gutcha sitting on her bed, staring down at her hands. Her clothes were spread out on the mattress beside her. When she heard me enter, she looked up and tried to smile, but I saw tears in her eyes.

  “Did you hear about the hotel?” I asked. “But don’t worry,” I comforted her. “Sam has found a place for us to live.”

  She shook her head gently. “No, Sarah,” she said. “I’m not coming with you.”

  “What?” I gasped. I couldn’t believe my ears. “Of course you are.”

  “No,” she said again. “You and Sam have found each other. You are starting your lives together. I must do the same. Daniel is gone.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  “And Mama and Papa are gone. I’m so happy you have Sam, Sarah, but seeing you both together—sometimes, it just reminds me that I don’t have anyone.” Tears pooled in her eyes, ran down her cheeks. I reached to embrace her. “You have us!” I exclaimed. “We have each other!”

  She cried on my shoulder, and I felt the heaviness of our history, the breadth of our experiences together. I remembered our happy years as children in Olkusz. I remembered the desperation with which we clung to each other in the camps. And now she was leaving? I wouldn’t allow it!

  “I need to move on,” she whispered. “I need to start over somewhere new. The memories are still too fresh here, too painful.”

  “Where will you go?” I whispered against her shoulder.

  “Palestine,” she said, her arms tight around me.

  “Palestine,” I whispered, pushing her away to look into her face. “That’s so far.”

  “There’s an organization in town called Bricha that helps find passage for those wishing to start a life there. I’m going to join them.”

  “I’ll go with you.”

  “No, Sarah. You and Sam must stick together. He will take care of you.”

  I pulled Gutcha into my arms again. My cousin, who had been by my side, who had kept me alive, was leaving for good. How could I ever let her go?

  Forty

  Villa in the foothills of the Owl Mountains, Reichenbach, Germany, July 1945

  Rubin opened the door and pulled my brother into a hug. “Sam!” he exclaimed in a booming voice. “Come in, come in! And this must be Sarah?”

  I looked up at the large Russian who had befriended my brother. He was handsome in a burly sort of way: large and muscular, with a full beard and mustache and animated green eyes. His hands swallowed mine when he reached out to shake them.

  “Hello,” I said shyly as I followed my brother into the house. I noticed two men standing behind Rubin in a doorway. Both were fair and looked older than Sam and I. One was taller and more slender than the other, but they both had pale blue eyes that regarded us with curiosity. Rubin laid his heavy arms across our shoulders and ushered us into the foyer, closing the door behind him.

  “Harry, Pinky, this is Sam and Sarah Waldman,” Rubin introduced us to the two silent men. “They are the brother and sister I told you about. They need a place to stay now that the hotel is under new ownership.” We stared at each other for a moment before the taller man, Harry, stepped forward and said in a low voice, “You are most welcome here.”

  “Thank you,” Sam said, nodding at the two men.

  “Come into the kitchen,” the smaller man said. “Let’s have a drink.”

  Rubin gave a hearty laugh and said, “Yes. A drink would be nice. Just so happens I brought a bottle with me.”

  Sam and I followed the men into a large kitchen, where a wooden table and eight chairs stood at its center. Pots and pans hung from hooks above a cast iron stove, and mostly bare shelves lined one wall. There was a wood-burning fireplace in one corner, the bricks around the mouth darkened from years of soot, and a large kettle hung over charred logs. A window over a deep sink looked out on the mountains and the rooftops of Reichenbach in the distance. Our entire home in Olkusz would have fit in this one room.

  Rubin placed a bottle of vodka on the wooden surface of the table, polished from long use. Harry walked to a shelf and pulled down five mismatched glasses. I noticed how his arms and legs stuck out of the ill-fitting clothes he wore as he reached up for them. As he paced back to the table, he caught me watching him. I turned my eyes away.

  Rubin poured the clear liquid into the glasses and passed them around, one to each of us. Sam glanced at me as I took my glass. I had never had alcohol before, except for an occasional sip of the sweet wine we’d had at our family seders. Sam looked like he was about to say something to me, but Rubin raised his glass and proclaimed, “A toast to your good health!” He then drained his glass in one swallow; the two brothers did the same. I raised my glass to my lips and took a small sip. The liquid stung as it slid down my throat. I cringed.

  “Sarah,” Sam whispered, a look of disapproval on his face. He reached out and took the glass from my hand. I frowned, turning red when I realized they were all looking at me. “What?” I asked Sam defiantly, squaring my shoulders, suddenly embarrassed.

  “Don’t you think that’s a bit strong?” he asked under his breath.

  In answer to his question, I took the glass from his hand and drank the rest of the liquid in one swallow, feeling a slow burn spread through my chest. I tried to hide the cough that followed.

  Harry walked to the counter and poured a fresh glass of water from a pitcher sitting beside the sink. “Here,” he said as he set it down before me. I glanced up to an amused expression on his face. “Thank you,” I said meekly. I didn’t dare look at Sam.

  “How did you two meet Rubin?” Sam asked the brothers. I knew he was trying to steer their attention away from me and could recognize the forced tone of interest in his voice.

  “That’s quite a story,” Pinky said as he pulled out one of the wooden chairs. “Please,” he said, motioning to the others, “have a seat. Make yourselves comfortable.”

  I sat gingerly on the edge of one of the chairs next to Sam.

  “Ah, yes,” Rubin said, straddling a chair at the head of the table, “tell them the story, Harry.”

  I glanced at Harry again, noticing how blue his eyes were in his angular fa
ce. He sat down next to his brother and folded his hands on the table. “My brother and I escaped shortly after the Germans fled our camp,” Harry said. “We spent many nights in the woods. Before leaving the camp, though, we stole what we could. I found a perfectly good German uniform that I knew would keep me warm, so I wore it out of the camp.”

  “My unit was the one who found them,” Rubin said, with a glint of humor in his eye. “We were scouring the woods for the Nazis, rounding them up. It was a good thing I spotted him before some of my comrades did. They were shooting anyone in a Nazi uniform, you see.”

  Harry nodded and said, “I could feel his gun in my back. I didn’t speak a word of Russian and had no way of telling him I wasn’t a Nazi.”

  “You must have been terrified,” Sam said.

  Harry nodded. “I had my hands up and was shaking my head and kept saying ‘Nein! Nein!’ ”

  “And I took one look at the way his clothes fit and knew he was no dirty Nazi.”

  The men laughed, but I just gaped at them, speechless. I couldn’t imagine what about that situation was funny.

  “I made sure Harry and Pinky found new clothes straight away,” Rubin said with a chuckle.

  “And we burned the SS uniform,” Harry finished with a satisfied nod. They continued to smile as though recounting fond memories. Rubin poured another round of drinks, but Sam put his hand over my glass. I didn’t argue. The heat from the vodka still burned uncomfortably in my throat.

  “So,” Rubin said in his loud voice, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “It’s time I was on my way. I’ll leave you both to get settled,” he finished, turning to Sam and me. Sam stood and reached across the table to shake his hand. “Thank you,” he said. Rubin nodded and replied, “I’ll see you soon, comrade!”

  “Let me walk you to the door.” Pinky rose, leading Rubin back into the hallway. As they left the room, Harry, Sam, and I stood in silence, exchanging awkward glances. Harry regarded us for a moment before stepping toward another set of doors. “I can show you to your rooms, if you like,” he offered.