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26
2ndApril 1943
The entire family fell into something of a routine before long.They lived freely in the apartment, but the Wierzbickas slept on the mats in the hidden room in case anyone surprised them all at night.They also used the room if a neighbour came to visit or a friend showed up unexpectedly for tea.However, Waltrina, Jan, Jadzia and Danuta gradually stopped seeing their friends.They didn’t want to risk exposing the Wierzbickas, and besides that, they genuinely preferred to spend time only with each other now that they were all back together.
It was a happy time.Nacha took on the task of cooking the meals the family would eat.Jadzia kept house, while Danuta ran little errands and did what she could to help.Jan and Waltrina continued working each day, trading at the market for the things they’d need.But they’d also formed something of an alliance with the ZOB through Antoni’s contacts and had begun supplying them to keep the resistance going.
Jan knew it was a great relief to his mother to have the Wierzbicka family under the same roof.And yet the danger was still there.It lurked on every corner, as the Germans stepped up their campaign to harass and debase the Polish people and wipe out the Jews.And it waited for them like a dark fog creeping up from the sewers every time they communicated with the ZOB or passed food or medicine to them over the wall.
The ZOB paid well, so Jan and his family never went hungry during those heady days hidden away in their apartment in a strange neighbourhood in Warsaw at number fifteen Panska Street.
Jan and Mama were polite to the neighbours they met along the way to the market.They’d nod or wish them good morning, but they never stopped for a prolonged conversation.It was best, Mama said, to be civil enough to be forgettable, but not friendly enough to be remembered.And so far the strategy had worked well.A few neighbours had dropped by to welcome them to the building in the first few weeks, but interest had quickly waned, and they no longer attempted a friendship.
Outside, the sun was shining, and the sky was blue.The street was busy with bicycles and carts.A few vehicles chugged by, and two cyclists crashed into each other, resulting in a shouting match between the men.
Mama and Jan spent the day at the market, trading for the things they knew would sell best to get the supplies they needed as a family and the items the ZOB had requested.There were still around fifty thousand Jews living in the Warsaw ghetto, although whenever Jan snuck into the ghetto, it didn’t seem that way.
The neighbourhoods were barren wastelands, the buildings run down, bombed or burned to the ground.Piles of rubbish were everywhere.Bodies showed up randomly in the streets as families dragged them out of buildings to be carried away by horse and cart to be burned or buried in one of the many mass graves dug all over Poland.
After containing as many as four hundred and sixty thousand residents at the peak of its population growth, to have only a fraction of that number remaining made the ghetto feel abandoned.Especially since so many of those remaining stayed hidden for much of the day, as though aware that their time was short.
Before midday, they’d traded for a large bag of flour that Mama was particularly happy about.It’d been a while since they’d been able to find flour, and she had already planned what she and Nacha would make with it that evening when they got home.Since the Wierzbickas moved in, they’d celebrated Shabbat every Friday evening.Jan’s family was still Catholic, but he liked taking on the new tradition, and it seemed to mean a lot to Antoni.
Imagining supper that evening, his mouth watering, Jan carried a bag of supplies to the pre-arranged location beside the wall close to the market.He retrieved a ladder from a nearby stall, giving a nod to the stall owner, and set it up against the wall.The trick, he’d discovered, was to be confident and quick.If he stumbled or glanced about furtively, he’d invite attention.
At the top of the ladder, he held out the bag, and a pair of hands took it.
His eyes widened.“Walter?”
Walter grinned at him, his red hair blazing under the sun’s glaring rays.“Hi, Jan.”
Jan gripped his hand and shook it, not wanting to let him go.“I couldn’t find you.I thought you were on this side of the wall.”
“I decided to stay over here.We’re fighting back.I can’t stay hidden forever while my people suffer.”
Jan knew what he meant.“If you need it, we have space for you now.We’ve found an apartment.You’re always welcome.”
“Thank you.I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Any word of your family?”
Walter’s jaw tightened.“They were sent to Treblinka.”
He didn’t need to say more.They both knew what that meant.“I’m sorry.”
Walter nodded.“I pray they didn’t suffer.”
As he walked away from the wall with the ladder tucked beneath his arm, Jan couldn’t help feeling guilty.It wasn’t his fault—he knew that.But he should’ve done more.Should’ve worked harder somehow to save Walter’s family and the rest of the Wierzbickas.
If only he’d found two apartments, five or ten.They could’ve brought more families out of the ghetto and to safety.But he couldn’t have known what would come—no one could believe what the Germans had done.It’d taken them all by surprise.They hadn’t been prepared.They should all have fought back harder, should never have complied.But they didn’t know, couldn’t know.
When he returned to their stall inside the market, he kicked hard into a pile of bricks that were waiting for the purchaser to pick them up and take them away.Then he sat on the ground, back against the bricks, with a grunt.
“What’s wrong, Janek?”
“We should’ve done more.Why didn’t we fight harder?We could’ve saved them,” he growled.
Mama rested a hand on top of his head, then leaned over to kiss his cheek.“You can’t think that way.It will drive you crazy.We did what we could.We do it still.No one can do more than that.Be grateful we are here and that the sun is shining today.Tomorrow could look very different.”
