by Ann Arnold
“You will all be taken tomorrow,” the Captain's wife whispered.
“What do you mean?” Sala gasped.
“They will be here soon to gather you all up and take you away.” Where would they be taking us, she thought? “Let me help. You know I only have a son. To have a daughter would be the answer to a prayer I have not dared breathe out loud. Zosia looks like us, she knows us and loves us. She will blend in. We will raise her as our own, at least she will survive and lead a long prosperous life.”
Thunderstruck was not a powerful enough word for how Sala felt. Moments passed that felt like years, even centuries. They wanted to take her child away. At last her mind started to clear. Sala knew what she had to do. She nodded at the German woman. “Give me a little time. Let me pack a bag for her and say goodbye.”
Mrs. Zeidler reached out her hand in gratitude, and Sala recoiled. “You are doing the right thing, I will be back in an hour.”
Then, as quickly as she came, she vanished into the dead of night. That must be how vampires disappear.
When she pulled away from the window, she saw Manek was already getting dressed. He’d heard. He knew so much, her little boy.
She had no idea where they would be taking all the Jews. For months she had seen the trucks that had left, and some never came back. She had heard that those people were going to a work camp. Is that where they would be taking them all? Or could it be true, the rumors she heard about what happened in the larger towns and cities nearby. Where Jews had been forced to leave their homes and relocate to a small, overcrowded part of a city. What she did not know was that there were fates worse than the ones she was imagining. One thing was for sure, however, if it was dire enough for that woman to risk coming to her, it must be bad.
Sala dressed Zosia as she continued sleeping on the bed. There was no reason to rouse the child from her dreams to face this living nightmare. Besides, Zosia would fuss. She was so little, and she would not understand being taken from her warm bed and fleeing into the chill of the night. Sala perched Zosia on her hip and Manek helped her tie her shawl around her to secure the child, keeping her warm, with the illusion of safety that only a child can feel at her mother’s bosom. He took her other hand as they tiptoed out of the house.
They ran on silent feet through the nearby trees. It felt as if she ran with the weight of the world on her shoulders. She did not know where to go, what to do, but knew she had to find help. Sala was grateful the fields still had the sere stalks of corn. They provided excellent cover. She made sure no one caught sight of them as she made her familiar way to her home.
Where had they taken Israel? she frantically wondered. After the house had been taken from them, his summons had become fewer and further between. He was still called occasionally into town, to council on small issues, but largely, the Germans had left him alone. The shell of a man he had become crushed her heart. His optimism and good nature had been destroyed, replaced with despair and hopelessness. He desperately wanted to find a purpose in what was happening, an explanation, but none was coming.
She knew of only one person and family she could trust completely. Her hand had barely knocked on the door before it was wrenched open. “Antony.” He opened it wider to let them in, but she saw he made sure to check outside that they were not seen.
“What’s happened?”
“They took him. They took Israel, and now Captain Ziedler’s wife tells me they’re coming for us. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know where to go.”
He came more awake as his gaze slid over Zosia and down to Manek. “Go lie down with my children,” he directed the boy. They watched Manek go to the door and pause, looking back at them. “It will be okay, Manek. Go to sleep with my children.”
“We have to run—”
“They’ll find you.”
“Then we have to hide.”
Antony shook his head. “They’ll still find you. We have to hide you where they won’t look.”
“Where? They have everything now—”
“Sala,” he cut her off. “I’ll take you to my cousin’s on the bicycle. In the morning he’ll get you into the ghetto the Germans made in Dembitz.”
“Why there?”
“You can hide with the Jews they are gathering. You’ll be protected in the greater numbers there.”
“I can’t put you in danger—”
“We are all in danger as long as the Germans occupy our country. They’ll be looking for a woman with two children, not a man, his wife and a child.”
“I can’t leave Manek. We have to stay together. I promised Israel and David, no matter what, we have to stay together.”
“You’ll be together. I’ll bring Manek to you later. We must go.”
Sala looked back to see her little boy still standing in the doorway, Antony’s wife, Bronislawa, was next to him with a hand on his shoulder. Manek gave her a quick nod before he closed the door between them. She imagined him crawling into the bed where the six Pilat children tended to all sleep together, like a little pile of puppies. He would fall into place with all the other boys and girls. Kazimierz, Bronisz, Augustyn, Krystyna, Maria and even the eldest, Irena, they were like family. Antony would protect him. He would watch over her child. The Pilats were as close as family could be.
Outside, Antony brought around his bicycle. He helped her sit on the back with her legs hanging to the side. One arm wrapped around his waist, and the other tightly held her daughter. Miraculously, Zosia slept still, her little puffs of breath warming the crook of her neck and granting her some comfort from the despair threatening to crush her. As Antony pushed off to get the wheels turning, the night air began to rush past her face. She hoped it would keep the tears threatening to fall from coming.
In a fit of despair, she turned her head back to view the shadows she knew housed Brzostek. She had dreamt of becoming part of this place all through the years of Israel’s courtship. She had loved the people here.
It was her belief when she married Israel, she’d live her entire life in this place.
Their parents died here.
She had been sure she would as well.
Now she wondered if she’d ever see it again.
Antony barely got back before the trucks pulled in front of the house. Manek saw the Pilats’ father return when he checked on the sleeping children, his face illuminated in the waning light of the fireplace, deeply etched with exhaustion. He guessed things had gone as planned, since he didn’t say anything. Manek lay back down when he saw the father go into the back of the house where he slept with his wife. The other children were lying around him in no specific order, just a pile of arms and legs, and sleeping heads. He felt Augustyn’s leg in his back. The older teen was always so nice to him, not getting annoyed when a young boy just wanted to follow him around. It was warm. He could say that much for it at least. Still, he missed the comfort of sleeping next to his little sister. She never stole the covers or even hogged the bed. He slowly fell back to sleep.
He was startled awake by the banging on the door. Manek knew the Germans had come.
Don’t be seen. If you are seen, make sure you’re helpful. He knew the rules.
Closing his eyes, he pretended to sleep with the others. The continued knocking on the door sounded like thunder. The Germans truly did not know how to do anything in half measure.
“Where are the Schonwetters?”
Manek flinched as he remained buried in the others. “I have no idea, mein herr. I have not seen the Schonwetters since you had them evicted.”
“We are looking for them.”
The other children were waking up. Manek rose to his feet, his heart beating so loud he thought the sound would give him away. He kept himself close to the wall so that should the German soldiers look inside, all they would see was a group of children dressing for the day. Among six others staying hidden was easy. Antony’s oldest daughter, Irena, gave him a hat, which he quickly drew on to cover his dark curly hair. Gentiles were blonde. E
veryone knew that.
“Children.” Antony appeared in the doorway, gazing directly at Manek first, and then, Irena. “Go do your chores now.” He turned back to the Nazis and gestured to them. “Surely you don’t mind if the children go outside and do their chores? There is always so much work to be done, and it is my job to tend to the roads so your trucks can travel easier.”
“Yes, yes, fine.”
As the children started to file out the door, Manek blended in near the end. Antony’s oldest daughter lingered, to be last. When they reached the front door, one of the soldiers grabbed her by the sleeve of her dress and shook her. “How many siblings do you have, girl?”
Irena looked into the man’s eyes, bold as a German, and answered without hesitation. “Seven of us, sir.”
Manek hid his relief by shuffling his feet. She had included him in their number. “Seven,” such a simple number, but right now it held so much power. Her quick thinking saved not only Manek’s life, but the entire Pilat family. The officer counted all the children.
“Fine,” the German officer shoved her into Manek. “Go.”
“Allow me to give them some instructions, sir. It won’t take but a minute.”
Stepping outside, he ushered them all toward the barn. “You know what to do,” he told his children. Turning to Manek, he drew him close so he could whisper into the boy’s ear, in case the Germans were listening. Manek and he both glanced at the house and saw the officer still standing near the window. The open window. “Go into the far field, past the corn. Hide behind the old fence, Manek. You stay there, stay quiet until I come to get you. Remember, this will save yours, your Mamusia’s and Zosia’s life.”
Manek ran as fast as he could. When he got to the fence, he tried to dig a hole behind it. Wanting to hide, to not be seen. Soon he was sure he was as far down as he could go. His body was masked by the corn plants and the stone fence.
As the long hours passed, his thoughts drifted into the past. He remembered such cheerful scenes as Uncle David walking around the house, doing his funny dance to make him laugh at the high holidays. Poppa coming in from shul, smelling like pipe smoke and prayer. He wrapped his arms around his knees and rested his forehead against them.
Wait. Be still. Be silent. Save everyone’s lives. Don’t be seen.
One heartbeat.
He closed his eyes.
Two heartbeats.
He bit his lips and took a breath in. Be still. Be quiet. Don’t be seen. Save their lives.
Hours later, Antony came to get him. The sun had already started to set. “Manek,” he said, helping him rise from the ground. Manek’s legs wouldn’t work, and the older man had to steady him against the stone until they remembered what their job was. It was colder than he realized. “Manek, they’re gone. Let’s go, boy. Let’s go and find your Mamusia and your baby sister.”
At any other time Manek would have been thrilled to ride on Mr. Pilat’s bicycle. The trip to Dembitz flew quickly. Few people ventured out on the road in these times, other than the Germans. Fortunately, they passed none of them either. When they rolled into the small city, they saw darkened factories on their way, and Manek kept peeking at the large houses around them. This was nothing like his small village. The houses here loomed over the streets, like trees, and he could not see anything growing. Everything was just so massive. He was afraid of what he could not see almost as much as what he was. Fearful of being noticed, he forced himself to look down at the paved streets that flowed beneath the turning wheels, avoiding the witnessing eyes he imagined in the shadows.
When they got to the poorest area of the town, Manek saw they were actually riding next to a tall fence. It seemed like it went straight to the sky.
Antony pulled into an alley near the gateway. “Manek, hide.” He immediately hopped off the bike and sat behind some trash cans. “I’ll be back.” Manek pulled his knees up again and closed his eyes. One heartbeat. Two heartbeats.
His reverie was interrupted by Mr. Pilat’s voice. “Manek ... quick.”
He jumped to his feet and moved to Mr. Pilat’s side. “See those men?” He was indicating a group of gaunt men, wearing clothing so worn it appeared to be held together by prayer, walking slowly along the fence with their heads down. Each of them carried a piece of paper in their hands. “Go with them, like you did with my children. Use them to get you inside, boy.”
“That’s where Mamusia and Zosia are?”
“If all went well with my cousin, yes.”
Manek hurried over to the men and sidled into their midst. He made a quick count: twenty. That should work. The guards only gave a cursory glance at the railroad workers returning from a hard day in the machine shop. It didn’t matter that he lacked a work permit like the others. Getting into the ghetto was so much easier to than getting out.
Manek looked around when he was inside. He knew this place. Poppa called it Targowa Street when they used to visit. The Germans had changed how it looked, though. They had surrounded the area with tall fencing, with funny wires looped at the top with spikes coming out at all angles. A fancy building rose at the end of the long, single lane opposite the guard gate.
Then he saw her. Mamusia. He ran to her and skidded to a stop. Don’t make a scene. Don’t be seen. She gave him a smile, knelt and pulled him in for a tight hug. Together. They were together. Everything would be fine.
Something was wrong with Mamusia. The blank look in her eyes had started a couple of weeks ago. She had gotten so sick, it scared him. Manek overheard some other people tell Mamusia that she needed to stay away from him and Zosia. He was not sure what scared him more. The fact that she may actually listen to them or her answer: “We live together, we die together.”
She had started to take food and put it into her own mouth first. She would then feed him and Zosia food out of her mouth, and almost seemed frustrated when they would wake the next morning, still healthy. She had one goal, to make them sick. She wanted to make sure that if she died, her children would die with her. They would stay together no matter what.
She finally found an old friend, one of the Kapos, the Jewish guards. She begged him to help her. To make the pain go away. He would give her something to drink every day. It was a small glass, and it smelled like the vodka Poppa used to have during holiday celebrations. After a week or so, she seemed to be feeling better, but now all she was doing was just sitting. Each day they went to get their rations, but after, she would just sit and stare into space. She was like so many of the other adults here. Lost inside their minds, overwhelmed by their grief and fear. This was not the Mamusia he knew. He needed her to get up. He needed her to give them one of her special hugs. He needed her to smile, or at least look at them fully and acknowledge what they were doing.
Manek didn’t know you could be both together with someone and yet so far away.
Their home was nothing more than a small square area in the attic that they had to use an old rickety ladder to reach. They had found this space during the first few days in the ghetto. What a horrible time that was. There were just so many people here. People’s homes were turned into factories, and the Germans had built barracks to house the never ending numbers of Jews entering the ghetto.
The ghetto area was small, covering a few blocks at most. People lined the dirty streets. While some tried to maintain a semblance of order, it was difficult to keep the stench of death away. There was so little food, and the conditions were so deplorable, that people would sit listlessly all along the street, and occasionally he would find himself walking over a corpse rather than a living being. Those that were put to “work” here had the unpleasant job of hauling the corpses away from the streets and from inside the homes, to some designated area the Germans had made.
The living quarters and conditions were horrible, but the ration line was terrifying. The adults who stood on it all seemed so angry and frustrated. The hollow faces stared straight ahead. No hope or joy shone in their eyes, just desperation and mi
sery. He’d have to wait for hours on the long line, and when he got to the front, he’d be handed a small bowl of soup, if it could even be called soup—it was more like soup water—and a portion of bread. This wasn’t enough food to fill him up. Even little Zosia couldn’t get filled on this food. When they first got there, Mamusia would hand him her soup, and if they got bread she gave it to Zosia. It was a joke that they even called this food.
But the German officers were clear. It was all they deserved.
Now, sitting back in the attic they now called home, next to Mamusia, he tried to get her to take his bowl of soup. Mamusia had to eat. People needed to eat to survive. He knew this. She just looked at him with blank eyes. This was how Poppa acted after they were kicked out of their house. He remembered that Mamusia had said it would take him time to recover from the loss of his home. They’d have to be patient.
He didn’t want to be patient now. He wanted his Mamusia back.
Zosia fretted when he handed her the bowl. She didn’t like it either, but there was nothing else to eat. To make matters worse, if they could even be any worse, the Germans kept bringing more people into this place they called a ghetto. They didn’t care there was no room. In the attic where they lived, they shared their space with so many people. At night, it was hard to move around all the bodies to go outside to the bathroom. Everywhere he stepped, he stumbled on more bodies of sleeping people, and some mornings he realized that the stiff ones would never wake up.
When his sister pushed away the food again he took a deep breath, hoping for patience. He had to take care of her now, take care of everything. “You must eat, Zosia,” he explained. “There is nothing else, I’m sorry.”
She started to get up to run. Scream out her frustration as little kids should. Manek understood her desire, but no one here wanted to hear her. They all lived with their own frustrations, and did not need to hear anyone else’s. With the way Mamusia was acting, he did not want to draw any unneeded attention to any of them.. He kept thinking about the rules he’d learned. Don’t be seen. Don’t be heard. Pay attention to everything. Stay alive.