The Things We Cannot Say

by Kelly Rimmer

  “That won’t happen.” He dismissed the mere suggestion as if it was entirely impossible, which made me impatient and somewhat furious—given there was no way for us to know how safe this plan was. For all we knew, the Nazis intercepting me was the likely outcome, and I knew I had to be prepared.

  “Answer me, Tomasz. If we are intercepted before we even leave the district, and Saul has a passport with your name on it. What exactly am I to do then?”

  “It won’t—”

  “We both know it’s a possibility!” I exclaimed, then I lowered my voice. “They were already looking for you at Warsaw because you deserted the Wehrmacht, and now they are looking for you locally because Jan told them about your work for Zegota.” Tomasz sighed and nodded. “So tell me—what do I do if we are caught?”

  Who was this woman, staring bravely into the face of danger? She had been within me all along—I’d seen glimpses of her that day at the square when I saved Emilia, then again when I had decided to support Tomasz despite the danger. I was nearing full flight now, and only a trace remained of the scared little girl I’d once been.

  Tomasz stared intently at the bandage as he wound it around and around my forearm, the lump of the long canister slowly disappearing into the bulk. After a while, he whispered, “If...if something happens to you, and the film is lost, there is nothing we can do about that. Henry might have different instructions when we meet with him at the pickup point, but for me?” He finally looked up at me, and his eyes swam in fresh tears. “I simply have to believe you’ll make it. I have to believe you’re going to be cursing me in a few days’ time when you’re magnificently free in Soviet territory but the cast is starting to itch and you can’t reach beneath the plaster to scratch it. That is the only way I can watch you go.” I reached up with my left hand and cupped his jaw, and he rested his head against my palm. “I hate it when we’re apart, Alina. I hate it, but there is just no other way.”

  “You’re sure this is the right thing for us to do,” I whispered. He stared right into my eyes and he nodded.

  “I have never been more sure of anything in my life.”

  I exhaled, then sat up a little straighter.

  “Okay then, Tomasz. Okay.”

  * * *

  My confidence came and went in waves, and I was once again second-guessing the whole plan as we approached the meeting point. Tomasz was no longer marching in strides ahead of me—he was behind me, all but dragging Saul, who was struggling to keep up. Tomasz kept reminding us that we had to hurry—we couldn’t afford to miss the truck. Every time he said it, I couldn’t help but wonder if we’d all be better off if we did.

  Henry was waiting for us, pacing beside the main road. The dawn was near and the darkness was disappearing by the second, and once he saw us, he sprinted toward us. I saw the confusion on his face as it registered that we had a third person in our party.

  “They may have Nadia, and they are looking for me,” Tomasz called before Henry could ask. “We have to hurry.”

  Henry stared at us, his gaze lingering on the cast on my arm.

  “What has happened?”

  “Saul is going in my place, and they need to leave now.”

  Henry fell silent for a moment. When the moment began to stretch, Tomasz stepped toward the older man and he dropped his voice, so low that I could barely hear it.

  “There is no time, Henry,” Tomasz murmured. “They know who I am...what I’ve been doing... Soon enough, they will be looking for me if they aren’t already. Jakub needs to get on the road as fast as he can, in case they set up checkpoints. There is just no time for debate.”

  “Tomasz,” Henry said, lips pursed. “Are you sure about this?”

  “There is no other way.”

  Henry sighed and ran his hand through his hair, then threw his hands into the air and turned to me.

  “You have the film?”

  “I do.”

  “You have the rubles?”

  I patted the leather bag I’d slipped across my shoulders, now hidden under my clothes.

  “I do.”

  “And you know the plan?” he said, as he withdrew from the pocket of his coat a small envelope. I nodded, and he held the envelope up right before me. “Here is a new identity card for you, in the name of Hanna Wis´niewski. It’s a forgery, and not a particularly convincing one, but it is the best I could do on such short notice, so you will have to make it work.”

  I took the envelope and moved to put it into the pocket of my coat. Henry shook his head, and said incredulously, “Tuck it into your undergarments, Alina! You must protect this with your life. Do you understand me? No identity papers means no admission to the camp, and the British soldiers will be looking for my film inside the camp!”

  Tears stung at my eyes, but I blinked them away as I pushed the envelope beneath my clothes, into the leather bag with the rubles. Henry looked from me to Saul, and he gave me a somewhat-desperate look.

  “Dear God,” he muttered. “This is...”

  “Henry. Alina is up to this,” Tomasz said flatly. “She will get that film where it needs to go. She is every bit as resourceful and capable as I am. Now let’s go.”

  I grabbed Henry’s arm frantically.

  “If I...if we happen to get captured? Is there anything I can do?”

  He exhaled heavily, then gave me a searching look.

  “If you’re captured and there’s time, destroy the film. Find a way. Otherwise...we must just hope that whatever happens to your body, that your captors don’t pay any attention to the cast, because if they find that film, it won’t be long before they find me and my colleagues too.”

  We stood by the side of the road discussing the possibility of our executions as if it was nothing much at all—because in the scheme of things it wasn’t. In that circumstance, death was simply one of many things that could happen.

  “Okay,” I said stiffly. “Got it.”

  Henry led the way down a track, and soon the truck came into view. I hadn’t prepared myself for the sight of a man in a Wehrmacht uniform, leaning against the truck, smoking a cigarette. It was all I could do to stop myself from turning and running in the opposite direction.

  “That’s Jakub,” Henry said quietly. And of course it was—because who else could drive openly on the roads to the Eastern Front, but a Wehrmacht driver, driving a Wehrmacht truck? I just hadn’t prepared myself for the sight of it. I hesitated and once again drew Henry’s ire.

  “We must hurry, Alina—you know what’s at stake here, girl!”

  It took more strength than I’d ever realized I possessed to start my feet walking again and move toward the man in that uniform, then to place my life in his hands.

  “I’m Jakub,” the driver said as we neared.

  “Alina,” I said automatically.

  “No,” Henry corrected me impatiently. “You are not Alina. Who are you?”

  I looked at him, but my mind was blank.

  “I...can’t remember...”

  “Hanna Wis´niewski!” Henry said impatiently. “You are Hanna Wis´niewski.”

  “You know the plan?” Jakub glanced between us, his brows drawing. I swallowed hard as I nodded. Jakub frowned toward Tomasz, who was now jogging toward us—carrying Saul in his arms.

  “Who’s going? There’s definitely no room for a third in there.”

  “Just me and Saul—the man being carried,” I said miserably. Jakub winced. “Are you sure you’re up for this, lady?”

  “Of course she is,” Tomasz said flatly, having finally caught up to us. Inside the truck, I could see the row of rations boxed against the deepest wall, behind several barrels and other loose containers. Jakub helped me to climb up into the tray, and Tomasz did the same for Saul, then leaped up to stand beside me. Henry was standing at ground level, but he was watching us and wringing his han
ds.

  “You must be sure you are quiet,” Jakub said. “Perhaps you can whisper or talk quietly when we’re out on the road, but if the truck slows for any reason or it stops, you must assume I’m doing a delivery or picking up, and then be absolutely silent. So much as a cough or a sneeze—and not only are you both dead, but so am I.”

  “What are you transporting?” I had a sudden terror that we’d be hidden in the back of a truck filled with explosives. Just one more thing to be terrified of—death by accidental explosion.

  “Just fresh fruit and vegetables grown by the prisoners at Auschwitz,” he said, then he added bitterly, “The senior officers on the front line demand fresh produce, all the better if it’s drenched in the blood of our people.”

  Jakub walked to the boxes. He slipped a screwdriver from his pocket, opened a panel, and then helped Saul to climb inside. Tomasz turned to me, and I caught his face between my palms and I searched his gaze desperately, looking for some sign of hesitance that I could exploit to convince him to come with me like we’d planned. He seemed only determined, and when I recognized this, I felt all of my courage slipping away all over again—replaced instead by sheer panic.

  “I don’t want to do this,” I choked, riding on one final wave of hesitance. “I can’t...”

  “You can,” Tomasz simply whispered, smoothing my hair down against my head, peppering my face with soft kisses. “I know you can.”

  “But...instead, let me stay. With you. Until you can go too. Saul can go on his own.”

  “Alina, you already have the cast on,” he said very gently. “Henry has arranged this for us only because of that film. There is no other way.”

  “But we could...” I started to protest, but my voice trailed off. We could... What? There was no more plaster, and no way to get our hands on any more. If we took the cast off, we’d have to think of another way to smuggle the film out—and this one thing had been difficult enough to arrange. Tomasz reached to touch my chin, lifting my gaze back to his.

  “Saul can’t go on his own, Alina.” His gaze flicked behind me, then he added softly, “He’s broken, my love. He’s barely holding himself together.”

  “But...what if you never find me?”

  “Alina,” he said, very softly. “Don’t you know by now?”

  “Don’t say it,” I choked, and I shook my head fiercely. “Don’t you dare say it when you’re putting me into this truck and sending me off by myself.”

  “But, Alina,” Tomasz whispered, and he lifted his hand to press the pad of his forefinger against my lips. “It is the only truth I live by. Everything else is gone. We are made for each other...meant to be together. It doesn’t matter what happens in this life or the next, Alina. We’ll always find our way back to each other.”

  “But what if you can’t find me?” I wept, and he brushed my tears away and he said very quietly, “Just promise me one last thing...” he said now, his eyes flicking briefly to the crate behind me. “Take good care of Saul.” Tomasz tucked his forefinger under my chin, prompting me to meet his gaze. “Promise me, Alina. He is a good man—a better man than I am. Think of the people he can help with the skills he has. You must take care of him for as long as he needs you to.”

  I never could say no to Tomasz, especially not that day. I could tell by the stubborn set of his jaw and the fierce determination in his gaze that these things he was asking of me meant the world to him.

  First, I had to walk away from him—and if that wasn’t already an impossible ask, then, I had to continue his work in helping Saul to escape.

  “Promise, Alina?” Tomasz asked me one last time. I closed my eyes, because I couldn’t look at him while I did so, but then I nodded. “Good girl.”

  He reached forward and kissed me again then. This kiss was different from any other we’d shared. It was a plea, a promise, and a farewell. When we broke apart, he was softly crying, and my heart was threatening to pound its way through the wall of my chest. I wanted to beg him to find any other way, but I knew it was pointless to do so—and besides, there was no time left for cowardice.

  I crawled into the crate then, and as I’d feared, it was tiny, barely a foot wide and the width of the truck across. The scent of the pine and of dust was overwhelming. There would be enough room for us both to sit, and enough room for us to stand at a crouch so we could turn around if we needed to. I sat behind Saul and closed my eyes. Just then, I felt Tomasz reach inside to press two fingers gently against my lips.

  “What is your name?” he asked me. “Your new name.”

  My mind was blank and I began to panic all over again.

  “I don’t know, Tomasz. I already don’t remember. I can’t do—”

  “Hanna Wis´niewski,” Henry called impatiently. “Repeat in your mind until it sticks, Alina. Learn it.”

  “You learn it too,” I said, frantically clutching Tomasz’s hand before he could withdraw it. “You’ll need to know what name I’m using so you can find me. Right?”

  “I have already memorized it, my love. Your name is Hanna Wis´niewski,” Tomasz whispered. “Travel safely, Hanna.”

  “I will,” I said, as bravely as I could, given I was only just holding the sobs at bay. “I’ll see you at Buzuluk.”

  And then Tomasz and Jakub sealed the door, and Saul and I were trapped alone in the darkness.

  “Are you okay?” I whispered to Saul.

  “Do you think this is how they feel?” he whispered back. I could hear the rising panic in his voice.

  “Who?”

  “My family in that grave,” he said, his voice a little louder now. “The suffocation...the darkness...it would feel like this, wouldn’t it?”

  Every muscle in my body tensed. For a minute, his words sent me into such a spiraling panic that I almost convinced myself that I was in a grave—but I forced myself to push down the panic and return to the present reality.

  One breath at a time, Alina.

  Breathe in. Oh! I found some air!

  Breathe out. That will be the last of me. Now I will suffocate.

  Breathe in. Oh! There is a little more air after all.

  “No.” I choked out the words he needed, even if I didn’t believe them myself at the time. “I don’t think this is how they feel. I think they are freed from feelings like this. I think they are waiting for you on the other side, and they are safe and at peace.”

  I felt him relax then, even though his only answer was a muffled sob.

  CHAPTER 34

  Alice

  As Zofia and I begin our second trip toward Trzebinia, she chatters as she drives—falling automatically into tour guide mode. I keep zoning out as she’s speaking. All of this information really is interesting—but the truth is my mind is elsewhere.

  I’m thinking about these wide-open days ahead of me, and the fact that I have absolutely no idea what to do with them. And even more disturbing, Mom’s words on the phone last night are swirling around my mind, giving me all sorts of crazy ideas.

  Sometimes you have to smash the damn door down.

  “What’s the plan?” Zofia asks me, when we turn off the highway into the little town. I sigh and lean back in my chair. I’m about to say I don’t know, but then it occurs to me that in all of the places we visited yesterday, only one revealed a lead.

  “To the clinic again, please,” I say.

  * * *

  I ask Zofia to stay in the car this time, hoping that Lia will be more open to me if I go in to the clinic alone.

  “Cousin to cousin?” Zofia suggests with a grin.

  “Something like that,” I say. I’m sick with nerves remembering how determined Lia was yesterday that she couldn’t help me, but I force myself to march into the clinic. Lia actually groans when she sees me in the reception area, and I hold up my hands as if that will placate her.

  “Come
with me,” she says abruptly, and she swipes the headset from her head to throw it onto the desk.

  I wave to her companion and offer a weak, “Hi.”

  “Hello,” he says uncertainly. I follow Lia down the hallway, then turn into the meeting room.

  “I told you—” she greets me with audible frustration, and I hold my hands up again and try to make her understand.

  “Listen,” I say, very quietly. “You’re my only lead, and I can tell that you love your grandmother just as much as I love mine, so I understand why you don’t want to help me. But I hope you can understand my position too. The only concrete thing I’ve found since I arrived here is her childhood home—which isn’t giving up any secrets—and you. So—okay, there really does seem to be some confusion around my Pa and your Tomasz Slaski—but if you can spare me a few minutes, perhaps we can resolve that. You said Emilia still visits his grave, right?”

  “She does,” Lia says. Sadness leaps into her gaze, and in that instant, I know she’s not lying about this. “Every month. She used to go more often when she was younger. He was her hero.”

  “Okay,” I say, then I suck in a breath and ask hopefully, “So, can you tell me where the grave is?” Lia hesitates just a little, and I adjust the strap of my handbag because I’m too nervous to be still while I wait for her answer. The silence stretches some more, and I try to make a joke. “I promise not to camp out there for a month and bully my way into seeing your grandmother. I’d just like to see it.”

  “Fine,” Lia sighs. She walks across the room to a cabinet, and withdraws a piece of paper and a pen. She sets both onto the board table in the center of the room, then scrawls down an address. “It’s not easy to find—you have to drive out of town. Follow the main road—it curves around behind the hill you can see to the east from pretty much any point in town. There’s an old property there—this is the street address. We drive all the way onto the farm, but my grandmother has the only key to the gate, so you’ll have to park in the driveway and jump the fence.”