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Shame washed over her as she pushed the thought aside.There was no point in wishing for something impossible.She couldn’t change who she was.And according to Babcia, it was wrong to think that way.They should be proud of their Jewish heritage and faith.But it was hard for Nacha not to wonder about a life where her faith wasn’t used to call her dirty and diseased.She wanted more than anything to be invisible.If people couldn’t see her, they wouldn’t be able to shut her away in a ghetto and call her names.
She glanced over her shoulder to see if Babcia was watching.Her grandmother hummed in the kitchen while she worked on the supper that Nacha was supposed to be helping with.A delicious aroma drifted out to greet her, making her stomach clench with hunger.But what did she care of hunger when there was skipping to be had?Babcia would hardly notice she was gone, and it would only be for a few minutes.
So she leapt from the place by the window where she’d knelt to spy on the sisters and hurried outside, making sure to shut the door quietly behind her.She adjusted her overcoat and scarf as she scampered into the courtyard, a grin tugging at her lips.
“Nacha!”the girls called, clearly glad to see her.
Jadzia laughed while Danuta threw her arms around the older girl and buried her face in Nacha’s coat.
“It’s good to see you,” said Danuta, her voice muffled by the woollen fabric.
Nacha chuckled.“I saw you last night.It hasn’t been so long.”
“But I thought I’d never see you again.”Danuta beamed up at her, eyes glistening.
Nacha huffed.“We live right next door.”
“What if the Nazis find out?”whispered Jadzia, looking around as though they might leap out from behind a nearby beech tree and catch the three girls talking to one another.
Nacha shrugged as though she didn’t care, but a pang of nerves tightened in her gut.“Let’s skip.I don’t have long.Babcia will be looking for me to help in the kitchen soon.”
“I like your hair curled that way,” said Jadzia as she grabbed hold of one end of the rope.“How did you manage it?”
“I tied it in rags last night,” replied Nacha.“It was easy enough, although I’m not sure I could be bothered to do it very often.”The truth was, she loved the look of the curls that hung against her shoulders.She’d pulled them back from her face, and it made her feel mature and beautiful.But now that she couldn’t go to school, or the markets, or even synagogue, she couldn’t help feeling there was no purpose to any of it—dressing nicely, curling her hair, polishing her shoes.It all seemed inconsequential and pointless.Still, Babcia insisted she keep up her appearance.
Your habits make you the person you are.These little disciplines will keep us going through all of this absurdalnosc.
So she’d tied her hair in rags each night and she would continue to do it, to keep Babcia happy.
“I’m going to try it too,” said Jadzia as Danuta took the other end of the rope.
They began spinning the rope over and over and Nacha watched carefully, judging when she could jump in.She counted in her head, then sprang in to skip over the rope as it spun over her head, then under her feet and back again.
Jadzia and Danuta began to chant in time with the beat of the skipping rope.
“Snail, snail, show us your horns;
I’ll give you some cheese for pierogi.
If not cheese, then cabbage;
From cabbage you will be fat!”
A truck engine gunned up the street.It stopped outside the apartment complex, followed by the shuffling of booted feet.Nacha stopped still, listening.The skipping rope whacked into her ankle.
Danuta whined.“Nacha, what are you doing?You ruined it.We were going for fifty in a row.”
“Shhh,” begged Nacha.
“What is it?”asked Jadzia, eyes widening.
The side gate on the courtyard banged open, and several German soldiers marched through.Their boots clacked on the hard ground.Their baggy pants stuck out around their legs.With hard hats half obscuring their faces, all Nacha could see was a series of twitching moustaches.
“Move!”shouted one of the men in German.“Back to your homes.”
Nacha stumbled away from the girls, her heart in her throat.She didn’t dare say a thing.Jadzia grabbed Danuta by the back of her skirt and tugged her towards the door of their apartment.
A trio of men in work clothes ambled into the courtyard.One pushed a wheelbarrow filled with concrete dust.A shovel poked out of the top of the pile of dust.The other two pushed a large timber spool wound about with barbed wire in long, thin strands.They all wore belts about their hips that carried hammers, nails and other tools.
