Page 21 of Cilka's Journey

“Who wrapped this up for you?”

“Cilka did.”

The doctor turns to Cilka.

“And you’re Cilka?”

“I made her hold it in the snow for a while first, then got some sheeting and wrapped it as best I could.”

“Well done, Cilka. Now let’s have a look at the damage.”

With the bandage removed the doctor turns Josie’s hand over, examining it closely.

“Wiggle your fingers for me.”

Josie makes a painful attempt to wiggle her fingers, the swelling preventing much movement.

“It was very lucky you had someone with you who knew to get something cold onto the burn straightaway. That has saved you from a far worse injury. As it is, you have what looks like a first-degree burn to fifty percent of your hand and eighty percent of your four fingers. Your thumb seems all right.” She looks up into Josie’s face. “You’ll need daily dressings for two weeks, and no work is to be attempted inside or outside.”

She turns to Cilka. “Pass me that tube… the one that saysmaz ot ozhogov.” Burn cream.

Cilka hands her the tube of cream, taking the top off as she does so.

Gently, the doctor applies the cream to Josie’s hand.

“Now look on the shelf behind you and find me a large bandage.”

Cilka does as she is told, handing back the correct item.

It is expertly wrapped around Josie’s hand, the end placed between the doctor’s teeth as she tears a small section in two, tying the ends together to hold it securely.

“Now, hand me that pad and pen on the table. I had better write a note.”

Cilka watches as she writes, folds the note and gives it to Josie.

“I have written here just what I said. You are not to work insideor outside and are to come here every day for at least the next two weeks to have the dressing changed. We will see how you are healing after that time.

“Now, Cilka…” the doctor says, “I am impressed that you were so helpful to your friend, and your writing is not as bad as you think.” She studies Cilka. “You have a capacity for languages. You know, we are understaffed here at the hospital with these new intakes. Would you like to work here?”

Cilka realizes the opportunity. In a camp there are the bad jobs—the outdoor, manual labor jobs—and then there are the good jobs. In theother place, a “good” job meant more food, and warmth, but in Cilka’s case, it also meant being repeatedly and incessantly used, and witnessing the very worst conditions in the camp. Her role as leader of Block 25 was a punishment, but one she also still feels she needs to repent for. For surviving. For trading food for cigarettes for warm clothes. While the women came in and out and went off to die. And in and out and in and out, ceaselessly.

She is dumbstruck. Again, she wonders why she always stands out. She looks at Josie, feeling that if she says yes, she will be betraying her friend. She will be betraying all of the women in the hut.

Josie says, “Of course she will.”

Cilka looks at her. Josie nods encouragement.

“I…” If Cilka refuses, will she be put in the hole? Maybe, at least, the job would mean she can smuggle more food to those who need it, or trade it for cigarettes, boots, coats for the others.

The doctor looks confused. Cilka supposes no one would ever say no.

“I don’t think I can,” she says.

“I’m sorry?” says the doctor. “We all must work.”

“And I am happy to work at the mine,” she says, but she hears how flat her voice is. Once she had thought she deserved more, or better, but she knows there is always a very great cost.

“Well,” says the doctor. “How about for the next two weeks,when Josie comes for her treatment, you help me, and then you can decide.”