by Guy Rosmarin
She clasped his arm with her free hand. “Saved me, again.” She tried to smile, but the yellow light flickering off her face revealed traces of fresh tears on her pale cheeks.
“This looks heavy,” Andy took the lantern from her hand and let her lead the way. The wreckage looked far more devastating in the light. Andy was still minding his steps with extra caution, despite Sarah’s indifference. She asked him to put the lantern on a table that still stood whole and then pulled a note from her pocket. Andy watched the tears rolling from her eyes as she read.
“My sister. She left this letter for me before…they took them away.”
“Does it say where they were taken?”
“No. It’s very short. I suppose she didn’t have much time to write. She only says that Papa is very sick and that they are forced to leave the house.” The tears smothered her voice.
“It’s okay.” Andy put his hand on her shoulder. “It’s only nineteen-forty-one. Your family is safe and you will find them.”
The sobbing stopped and Sarah gently pulled away.
“What so special about this year?”
She’s got a good point. Andy realized he was thinking out loud. “Well, they’re probably in Warsaw.”
“Why Warsaw? My family has no business in Warsaw.”
The sound of a car engine seized their attention, sparing Andy from a valid explanation.
“The light,” he whispered, “Quickly!” Sarah smothered the flame, but it was too late. They heard the door swing open. Footsteps followed with flashlight beams bouncing off the walls.
“Who’s there?” A raspy shout in German rocked the house, followed by another in Polish. Andy grabbed Sarah’s hand and looked her straight in the eyes. He could see his own reflection wrapped in her terror and hopelessness. When the beam landed on her face, he saw her smile.
A group of four men in uniform closed in on them. One slid the lantern to the center of the table and lit it, exposing SS lieutenant ranks on his collar. He took a close look at Sarah and Andy and waved the other troops to put away their guns.
“What are you doing here?” he asked Andy in accented Polish. Andy shrugged.
“This is my house,” Sarah stepped in.
The lieutenant scratched his jaw with his right index finger and pulled a notebook from the inside pocket of his jacket. “If you live here, your name should be…”
“Birrenboim,” she said.
The lieutenant nodded. “Do you have papers to prove it?”
“Yes, but I’ll need to go look for them.” Sarah reached for the lantern, but the lieutenant blocked her.
“Hans, go with her,” he said in German. One of the troops followed Sarah over to a corner in the living room and pointed his flashlight at the scattered ruins on the floor. It seemed almost impossible to find anything in the shambles with a single frail beam, but Sarah was determined. While she was looking, the lieutenant slowly circled Andy, studying his appearance from every angle until his eyes rested on the white sneakers.
“What about you?” he poked his shoulder. “Are you a Birrenboim too?”
“I … eh” Andy mumbled, struggling to find the right words in Polish.
“Found it,” Sarah’s voice disrupted the interrogation. She walked back to the kitchen with a silver tin box in her hand.
“What’s this?” The lieutenant gave her a dismissive stare. Sarah lifted the lid to reveal a pile of old photos. “Is this your proof?”
She dug to the bottom and pulled out a bundle of documents then sorted out the one with her name on it and laid it on the table next to the lantern. “That’s my birth certificate.”
“Not good enough.” The lieutenant slammed his fist on the table. “Hans could have pulled that birth certificate out of the box and claim to be Sarah Birrenboim just as well.”
Sarah sighed and pulled a photo from the box. “Here, that’s a recent one. I’m right in the middle with my family. The family that owns and lives in this house.”
The lieutenant examined the photo, comparing it to Sarah’s face then turned to her with a cold smile. “So, you wish to reunite with your family?”
Sarah flinched. “Where are they?”
The lieutenant patted her shoulder and chuckled. “Your family was evacuated along with the rest of the village. It was too dangerous for civilians to stay here when the bombing started, so we provided a safer solution. As you can see, this place is not safe for anyone to wander about, especially not for someone so young and pretty.” He glided his hand through her hair. Andy watched Sarah’s fist tighten and sensed the fury in her eyes. He stepped in and gently pulled her away. His move alarmed the troops. They raised their guns.
“What about your hero boyfriend here?” The lieutenant dismissed the tension with a wave of his hand.
“Cousin,” Andy said. “I’m her cousin.”
“Do you have papers for us, cousin?”
Andy pulled out the empty insides of his pockets. The lieutenant shook his head and exchanged jeering looks with his troops. “We’ll take your word for it. If you are related to Birrenboim, you will come along. You have ten minutes to get ready.” The lieutenant lit up a cigarette and stepped outside along with the rest of the squad.
Sarah grabbed the lantern and then Andy’s hand and dragged him to and up a wooden staircase. “Do you know where they’re taking me?” She tried to catch her breath when they reached the landing. “Do you?” she asked again when no answer came. Andy nodded. He followed her into one of the rooms upstairs and closed the door behind him.
He peeked through the broken window and watched the SS troops standing by their truck. “You don’t have to do this,” he whispered. “We can still get you out of here.”
“Not without my family.”
“Seven minutes!” The lieutenant yelled from below.
“Where is my family?”
“Warsaw…most likely. The Germans locked down and barricaded the Jewish quarter and turned it into a ghetto.”
“If that’s where I can find them, that’s where I go.” Sarah pulled a suitcase from under the bed, and quickly filled it with random clothes from a dresser. “The Jewish quarter is not so bad. I’ve been there many times.”
“It’s different now. It’s not safe. And once you’re in, there’s no getting out.”
“But my family…”
“Even if your family is there, there are thousands… hundreds of thousands of people crammed inside. The chance of finding anyone is...”
“I’ll take my chances,” Sarah muttered as she strapped the suitcase. “What’s the worst that could happen, I stay there until the war is over?” She forced a smile between the tears. Andy looked at her then turned his eyes to the floor.
“Five minutes!” They heard another cry.
Andy grabbed the suitcase. “Do you have any food in the house?” Sarah looked up at him, baffled. “If we do find your family, I’m sure they will appreciate it.”
“We can check the cellar.”
“Let’s go, then.” Andy took the lantern in his other hand. Sarah opened the door and led the way to the shaft in the main floor and down the spiral stairwell. The rocky floor at the bottom was smooth and damp. The light vanished in the vast darkness. Andy could not get a sense of the room size or direction as he tried not to lose sight of Sarah.”
“Put it here,” Sarah said. There was a pantry right next to where she stood. She opened the door and groped inside. “There’s plenty here.” She pulled out two cans and signaled Andy to open the suitcase. After he packed the cans she handed him a jar of pickles.”
“Any more?”
“Yes, there’s more, but the suitcase will be too heavy to carry.”
“Leave that to me,” Andy said and reached inside the pantry.
“Two minutes!” They heard the lieutenant’s voice
. Andy grabbed as many cans and jars as he could fit in the suitcase and pulled the lid over to strap it close.
“Wait. Make room for this,” Sarah said, holding a wine bottle in her hand. “Papa’s going to be upset if he hears I took it, but...”
“Nonsense. He’ll thank you for it.” Andy reopened the suitcase and dug under the cans to find a safe place. Sarah pulled out one of her dresses and wrapped it around the bottle before handing it to him.
“You don’t have to that,” Sarah said as she watched Andy buckle the strap. “It’s my fate, you don’t have to make it yours. If the Gestapo finds out who you are, they will…”
“My fate lies with you.” Andy lifted the suitcase and started for the stairs. “We have to get going. We wouldn’t want to upset that lieutenant. The Germans are known to be very particular when it comes to punctuality.”
“At least let me help you with the suitcase,” Sarah followed him with the lantern, but Andy was already halfway up the stairwell.
The lieutenant stood by the truck with his eyes on his wristwatch. “Just made it! Now load yourselves in the back and get comfortable. There’s a long road ahead.” He took a puff from his cigarette and rounded up the squad. Andy put down the suitcase and helped Sarah up. One of the troops attempted to lift the suitcase but could not get it more than an inch off the ground.
“If you can’t put it up, it stays!” He grunted in German. Andy grabbed the handle and effortlessly swung the suitcase over the gate. He followed it in, leaving the German gawking.
The engine roared twice. “Everyone on board,” the lieutenant cried out from the cabin. The baffled troop joined Andy and Sarah along with another in the back and the rest packed the front cabin just before the tires screeched away. A little more than two miles after they passed the train station, they stopped in front of a big metal gate. Sarah grabbed Andy’s hand and squeezed it tight when she saw the swastikas and SS banners. A guard rolled the gate open and the truck entered the compound, but their stay was short. A gray-haired man in a Wehrmacht uniform and a driver in civilian clothes replaced the entire SS squad, and the truck pulled out through the gate and back to the dirt road with Sarah and Andy unguarded in the back. When the gravel turned into paved road, the truck began to pick up speed.
The canvas sheet covering the cargo bed sheltered them from the chill of the night, but they were still exposed to the wind gusting from the rear. Sarah crouched in a fetal position and wrapped her arms around her knees as she watched the lights from her village slowly fade away. Andy offered her his overcoat
“It’ll probably help you more than it would ever do me,” he yelled against the gust when she tried to refuse.
“It’s very soft,” she smiled, after letting Andy wrap the coat around her shoulders, and then turned away and closed her eyes. She kept her eyes shut but the expression on her face was far from peaceful, as if her troubled thoughts remained at the surface of her consciousness. Occasionally, she would open her eyes for a brief moment and stare straight ahead. There was so much he wanted to tell her, to prepare her for what lay ahead, but the road was too bumpy and the wind too gusty to carry a conversation. Then he realized she did not have her violin case with her.
Chapter 25
The truck came to a sudden stop, and then slowly started moving again. Sarah opened her eyes and looked out through the back at the narrow street. They were inside the urban perimeters, but there was very little light. Some buildings stood bleak, others were shadows of their former selves. She kept staring, swallowing the grim details without flinching, as if she was fathoming the reality of war-ravaged Warsaw for the first time.
The truck stopped again. This time it remained still while the engine idled. Sarah turned to Andy. He sensed a great deal of uncertainty and fear in her. A door opened and then slammed in the front. Slow, steady footsteps followed until the gray-haired Wehrmacht officer appeared at the back of the truck and pulled the gate down.
“Out,” he said in a low growling voice. Andy helped Sarah down then gently lowered the suitcase. Sarah tried to grab it from his hand but could not hold it.
“So heavy,” she whispered in Polish before dropping it to the ground. “How did you…” she turned to Andy after he jumped off, but his eyes were locked on the barbed wired gate in front of them.
“What?” Andy mumbled, dumbstruck. His eyes revealed terror.
“Nothing,” she whispered.
The gate gave a loud screech as it was pushed open and a man in dark uniform stepped out. The spotlight exposed his SS insignia and shiny boots. He signaled the officer to approach and pulled a small notebook from his pocket.
“One female. One male,” the officer whispered and the SS man jotted down.
“Names?”
“Sarah Birrenboim. The female.”
The SS man nodded. “And the male?”
“Not verified,” The Wehrmacht officer said. The SS slowly raised his head and gave him a sharp stare. The officer shrugged. “The lieutenant said they’re related.” He nodded and turned back to his notebook, dismissing the gray-haired officer with a brisk wave of his hand. The officer shot his salute and walked back to the truck.
“This way,” the SS man said and walked through the open gate. Sarah and Andy followed him in.
Sarah looked back at the gate as it disappeared behind them. Andy held her hand. It was the only comfort he could offer. Up ahead, tiny sparks began to fill the horizon, turning into countless glimmering windows as they got close. The SS stopped in front of a small shack that stood apart from the other beehive-like ramshackle buildings. He knocked on the door three times. When no answer came, he kicked it until footsteps were heard approaching from inside. An old man with a walking stick stepped out and began apologizing in broken German. The SS officer dismissed the whimpering with a brisk wave of his hand then pulled the notebook out of his pocket.
“Sarah Birrenboim…and relative,” he glanced at Andy. “Find them a place and report back to me.” He turned back around and walked into the darkness.
“Birrenboim,” the old man called out and began to limp towards Sarah. She stared at the white band wrapped around his arm. “Oh yes. We’ll have to give you those too,” he said to her in a language that Andy could somewhat understand but was quite certain was not Polish. “Are you Ruben’s kid?” Sarah instantly froze. “Ruben and Perla?”
“You know my parents?” she squeaked and gasped for air.
“You don’t remember me, do you? Your father used to bring you to my shop. You are the little violinist. Herschel…you used to call me Uncle Herschel. Oh well, you were so young….”
“Are my parents okay?”
“Yes, yes, my dear child. I will take you to them.”
“And Gittel?”
“Your sister is here too. They’re all here, just like at home,” Herschel chuckled. “Wait here for just another minute.” He walked back into the shack and returned a minute later with a lantern and two white bands with blue stars. “Don’t let the guards catch you without these.” He handed them the bands and started limping towards the street.
The flame bounced off Sarah’s face as they walked, revealing a tint of blush on her pale cheeks and a glisten in her eyes. As they advanced into the ghetto, her excitement dimmed. Her jaw dropped at the sight of street dwellers, finding shelter amidst piles of uncollected trash like packs of wild rats. There were men, women and children, but they all looked old and wasted. Some looked like corpses. She had to cover her nose to block the stench. Andy did the same. He tried to breathe through his mouth, but his senses were so strong, he felt the foul air burning his windpipe and lungs. Herschel stopped in the middle of the street. He looked up and took a deep breath in with his eyes closed and arms slightly spread. Andy stared at him dumbstruck.
“Can you smell it?” He said with a hint of a smirk on his lips.
Andy hoped he h
ad misinterpreted the words. He looked at Sarah. She shook her head. He let one breath slip in through his nostrils, as if to give Herschel the benefit of the doubt. A faint aroma pierced through the layers of stench. He tried to dissect and separate the odor from the rest. There was something pleasantly familiar about it. He looked around and above at the glimmering windows in the ramshackle buildings trying to locate its source.
“Smell of the holiday,” Herschel said. The Yiddish finally registered.
“Pesach?” Andy said. Hershel confirmed with a nod. But that was last week. The Seder at Jan’s grandma’s house was still very fresh in his mind. “Must be the second Seder,” he mumbled in broken Polish.
“Second Seder?” Hershel raised a brow. “My poor boy, you must have been hiding in a hole underground for the past two years. Very few are fortunate enough to celebrate just one these days.”