Page 27 of Cilka's Journey

Cilka stands still in the warm, scented street. What could possibly happen to them, on such a soft spring day?

“The Germans? You don’t want to know.”

“How much worse can it get?”

“Oh, Cilka, please, just once believe me when I say we need to do as Papa asks.”

Cilka and Josie follow the doctor, Yelena Georgiyevna, to the end of the ward and are introduced to two nurses, both Russian, Raisa Fyodorovna and Lyuba Lukyanovna. They are instructed to teach Cilka what is required in filing patient records, making notations and fetching medicine. Raisa is tall and strikingly pale, with large, full lips, and Lyuba is shorter, with almond-shaped eyes and sharp cheekbones. Both have long dark hair, indicating they are not prisoners. Cilka wonders again if they chose to be here, or whether they are assigned their positions. Cilka’s and Josie’s hair is still short, beginning to curl lightly in the damp air. Both Raisa and Lyuba speak multiple languages too, and Cilka is told they will be her main overseers during the two weeks. Josie is told she will have to sit in the corner of the room and wait until the end of the day.

Two other male doctors are introduced to Cilka, told she is in training to be able to record their notes directly as they examine and assess patients. Cilka notices the glances they give her, liking what they see. She cringes. Is this place as threatening as Hut 29? Only time will tell.

Josie sits on the floor at the back of the large counter that has four chairs to sit and work from. One of the women offers hera chair, which she declines. She is soon curled up asleep. Tired. Traumatized. In shock. A combination of all three.

Cilka is a fast learner. She catches on to the format and rhythm of carefully identifying the correct notes for each patient and filing them. She is taken to a small room at the back of the ward and shown the range of medications she will have to correctly write down or collect. Left there to study the names and spellings of each, she works out their varied medicinal benefits.

When Raisa comes to get Cilka from the dispensary for a meal break, Cilka asks her to confirm what she has taught herself. Raisa tells her she is very impressed, particularly with her pronunciation.

Another nurse comes in and angrily demands to know what they are doing. Without waiting for an explanation, she orders them from the room.

Cilka doesn’t yet understand the hierarchy but realizes that here, as with anywhere, she will have to learn who to trust and who to avoid.

Taking a seat at the counter, she is handed a tin plate with a sweet bread roll, a piece of potato and a small quantity of dried green beans.

“Is this for me?” she asks.

“Yes, eat up,” Raisa says. “We can eat whatever the patients don’t. This is what is left over. Many of them are too sick to eat.”

“Don’t they need it to get better?”

“Some of them won’t get better and we can’t force them. If we send it back to the kitchen the greedy pigs there would only eat it or sell it.” Raisa’s lips draw tight in a thin line of distaste.

Cilka’s stomach suddenly feels very small. It wouldn’t be the first time she’s eaten a dead person’s food.

“Can I share it with my friend?”

“If you want.” Raisa shrugs.

Cilka takes the plate and sits down beside Josie, resting against the wall. She gently shakes her awake. Josie sits up, orienting herself to where she is.

“Here, eat some of this.”

“I don’t want your food. I don’t want anything from you.” Josie lies back down and closes her eyes.

Cilka breaks the bread roll in two and places one half on the floor in front of Josie.

Lyuba, the other nurse, comes and sits down beside her.

“It’s great to have some help.”

“Oh… I don’t know how much help I am yet.”

“You’ll get there. Raisa said you are a fast learner and already can pronounce the names of the drugs better than she can.”

“I’m good with languages.”

“Excellent. When you start writing your own reports, you will need to have your spelling one hundred percent. Mostly it doesn’t matter, but every now and then we get audited and we all get in trouble if they find incorrect spelling, or something left out.”

“I don’t want to get anyone into trouble. Can I show you what I write before it goes on the file?”