“I’m… I’m just remembering.”
“I’m sorry about Romek.” He lowers his eyes as I lift a hand to hide the tears fighting to break free. “Romek really loved you. I hope you know that.”
I nod. “Yes, I know.”
“Everything he did was for you.”
Benson, stop! I want to scream. But instead, I reign in my emotions and look at him. “Romek wasn’t one to give up easily.”
“And neither are you.”
“No, but I know when it’s time to surrender.”
Benson checks the alley before stepping in closer. “They’re gone, Kasia. Everyone in our cell of the resistance is gone.”
I feel nothing anymore. “We knew we wouldn’t win. We knew we’d lose our friends in the fight.”
“But knowing feels so different than the reality of it all.” Benson exhales a long breath. “You and I are the only ones left.”
I can’t envision the basement that was once bursting with young life ready to defeat an army now empty and still. “What are you going to do now?”
Benson pats his pistol with pride. “I’ll fight. Will you join me?” He looks hopeful, but I shake my head. My bones ache with every move as I find a match for Benson. My fourth match. He stares at it in confusion.
“For your Molotov cocktails,” I explain. “Fight back until Poland is free.”
He takes it in his calloused hand, staring at me with pity. “Shalom, Kasia.”
“Shalom, my friend.”
I watch as he melts into the murky shadows as quickly as he came out of them.
We were fighters in the resistance, but we had not fully considered the consequences.
A Memory
A wave of typhus had seized the ghetto, wringing the life out of its victims. It took my beautiful Mama on a rainy October morning. I became determined to fight for those who couldn’t fight for themselves. On Friday evening, Romek took me to the resistance headquarters. Dozens of fighters rushed around the basement of the watchmaker’s shop under the dim glow of flickering light bulbs. The air was heavy with the scent of sweat and gunpowder. In one corner of the room, young men and women were trained to load and shoot guns. They aimed their pistols at the wall, squeezing one eye shut as they imagined a target. In the other corner, men were gathered around a table strewn with glass bottles, vials, cloth, and a plethora of tiny objects. Benson was leaning over something, fully engrossed in his work when Romek clasped his shoulder. “Things are shaping up around here.”
Benson jumped, turning to look at us. “Romek, unless you want to meet your great-aunt Ruth, I’d suggest not touching me while I’m making a bomb. “
“Oh.” Romek quickly stepped back, his eyes wide. “Sorry.”
Benson wiped his hands along his trousers, peering from Romek to me. “So, you talked this dolt into letting you come?”
“Only because I didn’t want Kasia back at the shop by herself all night. I still feel uneasy about her joining.” Romek turned to me. “I just don’t want anything to happen to her.”
“See? Romek doesn’t deny he’s a dolt.” Benson grinned at me. “Kasia can help sort bullets, and Romek, your assistance is needed teaching those boys how to hold a gun.”He nodded toward the new recruits with a cringe. “I can’t blame them. They were students, not soldiers.”
“I’ll do anything I can to help,” I said.
Romek looked at me. He lifted my chin and placed a kiss on my lips. I kissed him back until Benson cleared his throat to break it up. “I hate to interrupt, but we have a war to fight.”
Benson led us to the supply room where small caches of ammunition were being sorted. I had been learning to differentiate the bullets when my body began to ache. It was the same aching I had felt for the past two days, but I hadn’t told anyone.
“Something wrong?” The young man sorting bullets beside me paused his work.
“No,” I mumbled, picking up the cold bullets. My eyes burned. I blinked, trying to see through the cloud clogging my vision.
“You don’t look good. Maybe you should take a break.”
“I’m fine.” The room began to spin, and a wave of chills seized my body.
“No, you’re not. Just sit down, okay?”
I felt myself falling backward, the bullets slipping between my trembling fingers. The only thing I remember hearing was a cry for help.
When I awoke, I was on my bed. Two warm hands held my clammy face. I squinted through a haze of delirium and saw Romek standing over me. I could see his mouth moving, but no words grazed my ears. Then, as if I had been tossed to land after being submerged in a rushing sea, the sounds came back louder and clearer: the ticking of the clock, my own heavy breathing, Romek asking me questions.
I tried sitting up, but he placed a hand on my shoulder. “Don’t. Just relax.”
I obeyed and sank into the bed. I blinked as harsh sunlight poured through my windows. “Is it typhus?”
He didn’t say anything for a long moment. “I… I don’t know.”
That meant yes.
I covered my face with both hands, trying to hide my ugliness from him. “You better go.”
“I’m not planning on it.” The bed shifted as he sat on the edge. The scent of fresh air and musty sweat clung to his jacket. He pried my hands away from my face.
I slapped his arm. “Go before you get sick. You have to stay safe.”
“I’ll never be safe. None of us are.” He stared past me, his jaw firmly clenched. As if he felt my gaze, he turned to me with a renewed sense of duty. “Hungry?”
I shook my head.
Romek pulled a small loaf of bread from the inside of his jacket and ripped off a chunk. “Well, you’re going to eat this anyway.” He shoved it into my hands.
I began picking at the dry bread while Romek disappeared into the other room. He returned with a cup of water. It sloshed against the sides as he presented it to me. “You’re going to get better.”
But I didn’t feel as if I’d ever feel better. I could see my bones poking through my pale skin. My body refused nourishment. I turned over in bed, leaving the nibbled bread on the sheet beside me. Another rush of chills racked my body, and I began squirming around to keep warm.
Romek set the cup of water on the floor. “Kasia, what’s wrong?”
I could barely get my words out as my teeth chattered against one another. “I… I’m so cold.”
“What do you need? What can I do to help?”
I tried stretching out my arms, but my body tensed. “Just keep me warm.”
He sat on the bed and pulled me up into the crook of his arm. He rubbed the goosebumps from my arms. I buried my face into his jacket, listening to his quickening heartbeat as my mind tripped into a feverish daze. “You’re going to be all right,” was his constant refrain, spoken with such firm authority that I almost believed him. His arms tightened around me. “Kasia, stay with me! Kasia… Kasia… Kasia…” His pleas were distant, like echoes bouncing off a mountain.
When I opened my eyes, they no longer burned. My body didn’t ache, and hunger, like a ravenous lion, now clawed at my stomach. The room was dim with grey morning shadows. Romek kneeled beside my bed, his head resting on the mattress. Both hands clung to my arm. I whispered his name, and he slowly lifted his tousled head, squinting at me through sleep heavy eyes.
“You stayed all night?” I asked, my voice cracking.
He leaned over me, placing his hand on my forehead. The sleep vanished from his eyes as he dropped a tender kiss on my cheek. “Couldn’t leave you.” He grabbed the cup of water and placed it in my hands. “Drink.”
I brought the enamelware cup to my mouth, closing my eyes as the liquid refreshed my cracked lips and dry throat.
“I thought I lost you.” He lowered his head, his voice thick with emotion. “Don’t ever do that to me again. Why didn’t you tell me you felt it coming?”
I ran my fingers through his short, wavy hair. “I’m sorry. I thought I’d feel better in a few
days. I didn’t want to worry you.”
He looked up at me, fatigue washing over his face. “Last night I made up my mind. I’m going to get you out of the ghetto.”
I dropped my hand. “No. Not without you.”
“Kasia—”
“Where would I go?” Tears welled in my eyes.
“There are Poles who will hide you. I’ll have it all arranged. Please,” he winced as he watched me, “don’t cry.”
“I don’t want to be safe, can’t you see?” I tore off the sheet and climbed out of bed. My legs wobbled when my feet touched the cold floorboards. Romek caught my elbow before I fell, and my face burned at my attempt at a heroic exit.
Romek grabbed my shoulders, giving me a firm shake. “Kasia, you have to live. You have so many dreams—”
I pulled away from him. “You have dreams, too.”
“Yes, but they were never quite as lofty as yours. Besides, my dream can’t come true in this place.” Romek’s eyes were clouded, and he quickly lifted his hand to shield them. His first display of tears ripped into my heart.
I touched the side of his face. “I want us to always be together.”
He swallowed hard as his emotions waged a war inside him. “You think I don’t? That’s all I want but—”
“We don’t have anyone left but each other. How can you even think of separating us?”
He stared at me for a long moment. Finally he reached out, tucking a curl behind my ear. His resistance was ebbing. I bound my arms tightly around his neck, and he hesitated only a moment before wrapping his arms around me snugly. “We’re stronger together, Romek.”
V.
I know now where my feet are taking me. I try to turn back.
Too many memories live there.
Too many reminders of love and loss.
But I continue on toward the abandoned concert hall that’s silhouetted against the gleaming snow. My lungs burn, and my feet are numb with frostbite, as I duck into the building, shaking snow from my dress. The foyer that once shimmered with lights and was infused by the scent of cologne and perfume, the room that once beheld women in pearls and fur coats, is now veiled in grey shadows and reeks of mold. Wasn’t it just yesterday that Romek and I were shyly exchanging glances in this foyer? I can almost see his eyes dancing as he leans over to whisper, “I think fur coats look ridiculous.”
And now he’s gone.
I trail my hand across the wall to keep my balance as I stumble blindly into the darkness. My fingers land on a door, and I push it open. I enter the auditorium that once swelled with music and laughter. Now there are starving bodies sleeping on the velvet chairs. A draft swirls in from a hole in the ceiling caused by the blitzkreig. The magic has been crushed with a new cruel reality.
I’m walking up the stage where I dreamed I’d someday be a pianist, where bows flew across strings and mingled with lulling piano notes. It was a foolish dream, perhaps, but it kept my spirits up during the darker days.
The piano still stands in the corner, covered in charred debris. A fresh snow is sprinkled on the keys.
A Memory
“Bundle up, Kasia. It’s going to be cold.”
I wrapped my red scarf around my neck and plunged my arms through my sweater sleeves. “Where are we going?”
“It’s a secret.”
“I don’t like secrets.”
“You’ll like this one.” He tossed me a wink, which I couldn’t help but accept.
We linked arms and took the back way out of the shop, Romek sweeping the street with a watchful eye before stepping out. I limped beside him, and we didn’t say a word as we hurried down alleys. I kept my eyes fixed ahead, trusting Romek to lead us safely to our destination. I wondered what sort of place in the ghetto he would be excited to show me and couldn’t think of a single place. I struggled to keep up. Romek must have sensed my depleting energy, for he slowed his pace and looked at me with concern.
“I’m all right,” I whispered. “Just a bit tired.”
He put his arm around my waist, and we walked slower until I recognized the part of the ghetto he was taking me to. It was hard to imagine that this was once was a lively place for Poles to enjoy a nice dinner and attend a concert. I glanced at him. “Romek—”
“We’re almost there.”
I kept silent as we snuck into the concert hall. It was in shambles now, just like everything in the ghetto, including our lives. Romek took my hand. “Follow me.” We climbed up a narrow staircase, brushing past a tall middle-aged man wearing a weathered suit.
He nodded to us and muttered, “It’s a shame, but I can’t leave it.”
“Leave what?” Romek asked, raising a brow.
“That piano. My sister used to be a pianist before the war, so I come by now and then to make sure it’s not left to rot, like everything else. It’s the least I can do for her…” He stared past us, lost in his own world. He suddenly remembered we were standing there and cleared his throat. “Are you musicians, perhaps?”
“She is.” Romek beamed at me with pride.
“Good.” The man nodded, swallowing hard. “My sister would have liked it to be played.” He hurried past us, and I wondered what had happened to his pianist sister.
We emerged into a musty, dark room. “Stage left,” Romek whispered in my ear. “Go ahead.”
He released my hand, and I took tentative steps toward the beckoning stage. I could make out heavy curtains silhouetted against the inky shadows. Instead of wearing an old tattered dress, I imagined myself in a dazzling red gown, my hair pinned up, my skin smooth and tan instead of frozen and ashen. Instead of empty chairs and debris piled throughout the auditorium, it was full of ladies wearing expensive hats and men smoking cigars.
“Curtsy,” came Romek’s whisper from back stage.
I threw him a smile and did as he instructed. I curtsied to a room of imagined people. In my mind, they applauded with vigor. They jumped to their feet and cheered me on.
A tear trickled down my cheek.
Romek’s footfalls sounded against the stage floor. I reached out for him, and he held me close, resting his chin on my head. “So many dreams that won’t come true.” My throat tightened. “It’s not fair.”
He wiped the tears away with his thumb, then took my hand. “Come here.” He led me to the back of the stage where the piano stood. A dark blue blanket was draped over the shiny surface, and Romek pulled it off in one quick sweep. Despite the despair around it, the Bechstein was strong and firm, just like we all were before the war. The man’s sister would have been proud. I ran over to the piano and dusted my fingers along the keys. “Can I?”
He peered over his shoulder before nodding.”Quietly.”
I placed both hands on the keys. Suddenly the room was filled with a harmony it hadn’t heard since the war. I breathed in the music as if it were oxygen. It soothed my nerves, my aching bones, my hunger, my worry. I played until hot tears began spilling down my face. I was only twenty-one. I still had a life to live. I had my life planned. I had a future, but the war stole it.
Hitler stole it.
I stopped playing and stared at the keys through a haze of tears. A dull, empty ache gnawed at my soul as Romek slid onto the seat beside me. He didn’t say anything. If I had looked over at him, perhaps I would have seen tears in his eyes. But I didn’t.
“Kasia, I have something for you.” He reached into his pocket. In his palm was a silver ring. “I know it seems silly now because it can never happen here, but this was my dream. I wanted you to be my bride.” He gave me a wistful smile. I could see tears glistening in his eyes as he swallowed hard. “I wanted us to have a brood of children. I wanted to provide and care for you all the days of my life. But we know, don’t we… that’s not our future.” He ducked his head, his voice tripping. “They’ve taken everything from us.”
“No.” I took his face in both hands, forcing him to look at me. The grief in his eyes tugged at my heart. “They haven’t taken eve
rything from us. There are some things that can’t be stolen, like our memories and our love. Those are ours, Romek.”
He searched my eyes. “Marry me.”
“But we know we can’t have a future together. We’ll die fighting back. Think of how many comrades we’ve already lost.” There were a hundred reasons we could never be together.
“Why can’t we fight back as husband and wife?”
My heart thudded wildly. In the midst of war and certain death, I suddenly nodded my head. It was a wild idea, and yet it felt so right. “Yes, I’ll marry you. I’ll marry you right now.”
He leaned in and kissed me with passion, weaving his fingers through my hair. “We’ll get married tonight. Go home, Kasia, and I’ll be there soon.” Romek leapt up, raking a hand through his hair with a lopsided smile. “Are we crazy?”
“Yes, but I love you,” I whispered in his ear. “Thank you for always believing in me.”
I lost myself in his eyes that bore a gentle courage. He turned to leave, hesitated, and then kissed me once more. I clung to him, not wanting him to leave for a moment. Anything could happen in a moment. I gripped the piano, watching him leave for the last time.
I didn’t hear the gunshots.
I didn’t hear anything but my beating heart.
I collapse onto the stage floor, my eyes fixed on the void in the ceiling where snow tumbles down like diamonds. Every breath I take burns my lungs and becomes laborious and cutting, like a knife ripping open my throat. I know my time is near. The cold wind presses around me. It’s time to go, Kasia, it whispers, wrapping me in its frosty embrace. My head falls back against the floor. Through my hazy vision I can see the endless sky where no war, no hatred, no sorrow reside. My fingers are brittle with cold as I grip my final match. I drag it across the floor until a flicker glows. I hold it close to my face, relishing the momentary warmth and watch as it eats away the match, swiftly growing dimmer.
“Kasia.”
Romek’s sitting beside me, his smile ever present, and his hair tousled. I gaze into his face. It’s so fresh and clean. His touch is gentle as he wipes the snow from my cheeks, eyelashes, and lips. “I’ve missed you.” His voice is like the final chord of a sonata. I close my eyes as it swells on the wind. He pulls me onto his lap, and I curl into him. He holds me close to his chest. His shirt smells fresh, like verdant grass and rich earth. I melt into his embrace. “Kasia,” his breath is warm in my ear. “It’s time to come home.” He picks me up, holding me tightly in his strong arms. I gaze into his eyes and realize each breath is no longer a fight. I’m drinking in warm air instead of the raw cold. My skin is no longer clinging to my bones. It’s healthy and smooth. My body no longer aches.
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