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Nacha couldn’t wait to talk to Tata about it.A school.It was more than she could’ve hoped for.Perhaps she could go there each day rather than mooning about the apartment waiting for Babcia to give her a chore, like polishing the floorboards again even though she’d only just done them.
“I won’t say anything,” she agreed.
She shifted the pot to one hip and fingered the ration cards in her pocket to make sure they were still there.She’d worried all the way from the apartment that she’d lose them.Then what would Babcia say?
Shouting broke out at the head of the line.Nacha stood on tiptoe to see what was happening.A truck careened around the corner, and several plainclothes police officers jumped out.Their armbands and hats signified they were part of the Jewish Police, the Law and Order Service, and Nacha’s heart leapt into her throat.
“Brutes,” whispered Leah beneath her breath.“I’m going.Maybe I’ll see you at the school.”She ducked her head and scurried away down the street in the opposite direction.
Nacha hated to give up her spot in the line.There were already a dozen people waiting behind her.
The police rushed at a man in the line and pulled him towards the truck.The man stumbled and fell.One of the police tugged a baton from his belt and began to beat the man over the head with it.A woman screamed and leapt at the officer, slapping at him with both hands.Another officer felled her with his baton.All the while, they were shouting abuse and calling the couple thieves.The line broke up, and people scattered as more police officers arrived and set about beating anyone within arm’s reach.
Nacha hugged the saucepan close, and with one last wistful glance in the direction of the wonderful smell of soup, she turned to run.She tucked herself close to the building’s wall, with the ghetto wall on the other side, and jogged down the street, only occasionally glancing back over her shoulder to make sure she wasn’t being followed.She turned down an alley and slowed her pace, puffing lightly.
A terrific thump behind her almost made her scream, but she clamped a hand to her mouth and spun to face the noise.
Jan stood there, feet apart, knees bent and a gigantic grin splitting his face in two.“Scared you!”
He’d jumped down from the top of the ghetto wall in a place where no one else was in sight.On the other side of the wall, she heard the busy sounds of a marketplace on a normal, frigid Tuesday morning in November.
She laughed and ran to embrace him.With the saucepan awkwardly held between them, she threw her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek.The strength of her feelings surprised her.Jan had been a part of her life for almost as long as she could remember.He was like a brother to her, and she’d never considered they might be separated.Her relief at seeing him made her hold him tight a few moments longer than she might have.Before the ghetto, she probably would’ve been angry with him for frightening her that way.But now she felt nothing but joy.
When she stepped away from him, his eyes sparked.“Glad you didn’t scream, though.That might’ve caused me a bit of trouble.”
She slapped his shoulder.“Then don’t sneak up on me.”
He pulled a piece of white cloth from his back pocket.As he tied the band around his arm, she noticed his heavy backpack.
“What’s that?”she asked.
He laughed.“You’ll see.Come on, let’s go home.”
On the wayback to the apartment, Jan told her about life on the Aryan side of the ghetto wall.She couldn’t help feeling some level of gratitude that they were in the ghetto rather than outside it.The Germans would leave them alone now, Papa assured her.They were relatively safe in the ghetto if they did what they were told and stayed mostly out of sight.It was the best place for them.The people who’d been killed since the ghetto was formed, were trouble makers, they’d brought the Nazi’s ill will down on themselves by not keeping quiet and doing what they were told.
They’d keep their heads down, stay out of the way of the police and they’d make it through the war.Peace would come and they’d be set free.
She wasn’t sure if Papa was right, but it felt true.She felt safer now, tucked away with the rest of Warsaw’s Jewish population.As Babcia always said, out of sight, out of mind.And perhaps they would stay out of the Nazis’ minds now that they were hidden behind the ghetto’s walls.At least they didn’t have to face being chased through the streets or shot as long as they didn’t steal anything like the couple in the soup line had done.
The police in the ghetto didn’t carry guns.So far, she and her family had managed to stay out of trouble, and Tata was determined they’d continue to do just that.He said they would be model citizens, and they’d survive to the end of the war.
“Walter came back with me to the Aryan side,” said Jan as he hurried along beside her, his Star of David armband starkly white against his dark brown coat sleeve.“He doesn’t want to stay in the ghetto all the time.But he said he’ll come with me to visit his family sometimes.”
“Will you do it often, then?”
“As often as I can.”
They reached the apartment, and Nacha opened the door to walk in ahead of Jan.“Jan’s here.”
Everyone was happy to see him.He set his backpack on the kitchen table, and Tata shook his hand.Papa and Babcia each kissed his cheeks.Berek slapped him on the shoulder and grinned.
“I brought you some things,” Jan said, opening the backpack.“Mama traded for them in the market.”
There was much celebration then.He’d brought meat and rice, potatoes and beans, candles and bandages, as well as some vials of morphine and antibiotics.
“This is fantastic,” said Tata, holding up the morphine.“You have no idea how much this is needed.”
Jan shrugged.“She said she can get more.”
