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8
20th December 1940
Jan pushed the wooden wheelbarrow down the cobblestone street.The front wheel bumped along, jolting his hands.Mama stopped at a stall and haggled with the vendor.He waited impatiently, peering up at the sun as it disappeared behind a cloud.There was no way he’d have time to get to the soccer match being held in the bombed-out ruins of an apartment building a block from their home.It’d be over by the time he made it.He fidgeted with the wheelbarrow’s handles, scratching absentmindedly at the timber.
Mama pushed a clutch of potatoes into the wagon.“You’re elsewhere today.”
“No, Mama,” he replied dutifully.
“What are you thinking of?”
“There’s a soccer match,” he began.But he stopped short when he saw the look on her face.“It’s nothing.”
“Soccer…but we have to get these things to Antoni.He’s meeting us at the wall in less than ten minutes.”
“I know, Mama.”He knew it was more important to feed their neighbours, but he couldn’t help wanting to do something normal.To play a game.To spend time with friends.To do anything that let them forget for a few moments that there was a war being waged all around them.
Mama pinched his cheeks gently between her fingers.“You’re a good boy.”
He blushed, pulling away from her.“Mama,” he complained.There were people all around them, milling through the rows of fruit and vegetable vendors who congregated in rows outside the market building.He’d was fifteen and didn’t need his mother to treat him like a baby in front of the world.
She studied his face a moment before moving on.He followed her, the barrow clanking over a rut in the road.
“You should go back to school,” she said.
He blanched.“What?”
“School,” she repeated.
“But I don’t want to go to school.There are far too many things going on, more important things, than sitting in a classroom and learning algebra.”
She laughed.“There are few things in life I consider important, and school is one of them.In the last letter you brought me, Antoni says they are finding a new normal way of life in the ghetto with schooling and soup kitchens.They’ve even set up their own hospitals and campaigned for people to donate sheets and pillows for the patients.They are finding their way, and we must too.You will return to school on Monday.You won’t attend for much longer—you’re almost a man—but it’s important that you learn what you can while there’s a chance for it.Your sisters will attend as well.”
“Do you think they’re safe now?”he asked.“Babcia and Papa were saying it’s better, with the walls around the ghetto.Perhaps they’ll be secure away from the Nazis’ prying eyes.”
Mama bit down on her lower lip, her cheeks pale.“I don’t know,mój skarbie.”
They finished their trading, and Jan filled the same backpack again with supplies.He lifted the backpack to his shoulder, and they walked towards the wall that surrounded the ghetto.Where it travelled through the market, it was tall and built of red bricks with a curl of barbed wire along the top.Walter was there waiting in the shadows.He gave Jan a nod then picked up a ladder and carried it casually to the wall.
Jan scanned the market for any sign of a Nazi guard, but saw none.Walter opened the ladder and set it up, then continued walking on his way.Jan stepped quickly up the ladder.On the other side, a group of youths milled about.Several waved at Jan, but none made a sound.
He looked directly down and saw Antoni standing against the wall.He lowered the bag into Antoni’s outstretched hands.
“Thank you,” whispered Antoni.“We need antibiotics—there’s a typhus outbreak.Can you get more?”
Jan offered a nod and quickly descended the ladder.He glanced around the market and saw several men and women staring at him.One of the men doffed his hat.All of the curious onlookers returned to their work.Just then, the man who’d touched his hat whistled.
Jan tucked the ladder beneath his arm and ran along the wall while Mama walked in the other direction, pushing the now-empty wheelbarrow ahead of her.A woman opened a door and Jan skidded through, depositing the ladder against the wall.He glanced out the doorway and saw Nazi soldiers beating one of the men with batons and chasing another through the square.
He pulled the door shut behind him and slid down the wall to sit on his haunches in the dull light, puffing.Adrenaline coursed through his veins, and he tugged the knit cap further down on his head.It’d been a close call.He leapt to his feet and set off at a jog through the rabbit warren of storage rooms and hallways, then emerged into the market building beside Mama’s stall.She was there, waiting for him with a smile on her face.
“We must somehow be more careful next time.”
He grinned.“You worry too much.”
