Page 42 of The Nanny Outside the Gates

THIRTY-FOUR

GAVRIEL

Boom .

A rumbling thunderclap shakes me out of focus, and I come to realize I didn’t complete even a third of what I should have today.

It won’t go unnoticed. Just as soon as I’ve swept up the sawdust and stashed away the brown paper bag with the remaining medical supplies away in the alcove, someone is blowing a whistle outside.

We should still have another half hour before we’re supposed to head back to Birkenau, but I thought it was odd that the kapo hasn’t been up here in a few hours. I’m sure I’m about to find out why.

The sky is orange and gray, cloudy, with heavy drizzle, but it’s daytime.

There’s still light and we’ve never returned to Birkenau in the daylight.

I tuck the jacket of my uniform into my pants and pull the drawstring as tightly as I can to conceal the blood stains.

I compress my fingers around the bandage, feeling a swelling burn and pull along the edges of the wound, but I need to keep my hand tucked into my sleeve as much as I can.

Injuries are a sign of liability and first-aid supplies could be a sign of theft—both cause for punishment while working beneath an SS officer.

The house is as noisy as normal with Officer Sch?fer home, Frau Sch?fer, and all three children.

The sound of bickering grows louder the closer I move to the main floor, and it’s bickering between Isla and Marlene as well as the usual husband and wife spatting.

One would think they would all look around and see how much worse their lives could be and appreciate the luxury of having a home and food on the table, but they’re incapable of seeing the truth—all of them, except Halina.

I pass the kitchen, finding the four family members seated at the table and Halina standing complacently in front of the countertop, bouncing Flora on her hip while watching the family as if they’re putting on a production.

Her gaze sweeps to the side, spotting me, her eyes soft with concern.

She chews on her bottom lip and I’m not sure she’s aware because Frau Sch?fer’s seat faces her direction.

“Goodbye!” Marlene shouts.

I speed up, avoiding any trouble. Marlene shouldn’t be speaking to me.

The racket of a chair scraping against the wooden floor stings my ears as I reach for the servant’s entrance. “What have I told you?” Officer Sch?fer scolds Marlene.

“She says hello and goodbye to everyone she passes,” Frau Sch?fer says. “She doesn’t know the difference.”

“Well, I know he’s a Jew,” Marlene mumbles. And with that, I close the door behind me.

As warm bread sits before them, ignored for the chance to have the last word, the bickering ensues as I amble around the side of the house to the meeting place for all prisoners.

Adam, Benson, Rueben, and Kasia are already in their appropriate lines, but there are still a couple others missing from the other two houses.

Up next to Adam, I settle into the line and release a heavy breath. “How’s the hand?”

“Not good,” I reply. “You in one piece?”

Adam holds his hands out to inspect, flips them over then back. “Guess so,” he says. I nudge my shoulder into his.

“What would a day be without a dose of your humor?”

He stretches an exaggerated yawn. “Bor-ing,” he utters, long and low like a ship’s horn in the fog. “While on the topic…Kapo Blockhead is back.” Oskar. The man without a soul. “Sylvia is back too,” he says.

I figured they’d been let go and killed. That’s what happens when someone doesn’t return to their position.

When Oskar steps into sight, a shiver runs down my spine, finding him battered and bruised almost beyond recognition. I can’t imagine what they’ve done to him, or still, why they’ve sent him back. Is it to show us what our fate will be?

“Someone here—someone who works in the Sch?fer house is responsible for a missing key, stolen food, and other objects I won’t mention. One of you will confess before we leave this property,” Oskar grunts.

My breaths shorten and numbness spreads through my veins.

I could be accused of all but the key. Though I didn’t personally take anything, I also didn’t deny it when presented to me.

Halina replaced the sandwich, and the other food was set to be thrown away.

The pistol and ammo from Officer Sch?fer’s desk…

it’s still in their house, just in the alcove.

I don’t think they would have waited so long had they known about the pistol. What did I do? Why was I so stupid?

No one speaks up and if anyone were to, it should be me.

If there’s no confession, will they just remove all the carefully selected help they’ve assigned to these houses?

I can’t see them doing that, but I’ve seen far worse for much less.

Any long-lasting prisoner at Auschwitz knows to keep quiet.

There’s a better chance of a lesser punishment if a person confesses.

“I’ll say it again!” Oskar shouts. “Someone will fess up to these crimes before we leave.”

I know what this is…they’re reacting to what happened in Treblinka with the prisoners revolting against the guards.

This is what Sch?fer was fighting with his wife about when he told her she needed to stay home all day and keep an eye on the house.

Except it was the kapos he was worried about trusting.

Now, it’s the kapo blaming the prisoners.

“We know better than to take anything from the officer’s house. Not one of us has a death wish,” Adam says, his words brave, but his voice wavering as he holds his hands up in plea.

Oskar tilts his head to the side and steps in toward Adam. I should elbow him. Tell him to shut up and not say anything else. He knows better. We both do.

“You think you’re pretty smart, don’t you?” Oskar asks Adam.

“No, I’m not smart. I’m nothing,” Adam says, his bravery gone.

“That’s for sure. If you weren’t such a screwball, you’d have gotten rid of the evidence you’re lying about.”

No. There’s no evidence. He didn’t do anything. He wouldn’t.

I’m peering at Adam from the side of my eye, watching the lump in his throat bob up and down. He’s nervous. He should be. I am too.

Oskar reaches into his pocket and pulls out a wax sandwich wrapper, a key, and a diamond bracelet. “These were found at the bottom of the tin watering can you use daily.”

“No, no…I didn’t—” Adam cowers, his denial more of a plea. His knuckles tighten by his side. Sweat trickles down the back of my neck as Oskar takes another step closer to him. He grabs Adam by the collar, pulling him off his balance. “No one else uses that water tin.”

“I—I didn’t steal,” Adam utters with only a squeak of sound left in his voice. I don’t know this side of Adam. He’s so full of hope, it’s made him fearless. I’ve never met a person like that. And now…now what?

A door opens and closes behind us and quiet footsteps sponge through the grass.

Shuffle, shuffle, shuffle.

All I can see is the look on Kasia’s face, her eyes bulging, her bottom lip drooping.

I have to say something, or do something…

But I’m in a chokehold of terror. My silence is appalling.

I can’t just stand here. If they—if he does something to Adam, that will be on me.

It will. “Please don’t,” I mutter. Adam turns his head toward me and I catch the look in his eyes, the emptiness, the unknown, the fear… I’ve seen that expression before.

“We shouldn’t have been so confident we’ll find food somewhere,” I say to Jozek and Natan. “There’s nothing in sight.” Nothing but hungry Jews, some slumped against walls, others lying on the ground, curled into their coats along damp cobblestone.

“There must be something. We’ve only been in the ghetto for two days. We just need to find where the vendors hide,” Jozek says, pausing to peek into a dark shop window. “Nothing.”

“There’s probably some type of black market under a building,” Natan adds. “We’ll need to ask around.”

“If we ask the wrong person, we’re done for,” I say.

“I can read people. Leave it to me,” Natan replies.

He can’t read people. He just believes everyone likes him until they sneer.

We barely make it past the darkened, closed theater when two Gestapo officers step out from around the corner, blocking our path.

The dim orange light of dusk washes over their pale faces, sharpening their stone-like expressions. “Papers,” one snaps at us.

What’s the purpose of asking for papers when we’re already caged inside a ghetto? They’ve already determined we’re not worthy of freedom.

I instinctively move in front of Jozek and Natan, but Jozek grabs my shoulder and steps beside me. His grip trembles. “We have our papers,” he says, reaching into his pocket.

“We’re just getting some fresh air,” Natan says, flashing the kind of smile he thinks can change their mind.

“No work permits?” the shorter of the two officers asks, glancing at our papers without reading them. He already knows we don’t have them.

I look at Natan, ready to stop him, silently pleading with him to stay quiet. If I could elbow him, I would, but they would see.

“That’s quite a funny story, actually,” Natan says.

There’s no story.

The officer grabs Natan by the collar and slams him against the wall. His body hits like a hollow pumpkin, the thud sickening. The sound of Natan’s breath whooshing from within his chest, steals the wind from mine.

The officer draws his pistol and presses it to Natan’s head. My heart cracks, my stomach coils. A fire ignites in my chest.

“We’ll get them right away, officer,” I say, holding my hands up in surrender. A plea. It’s all I can offer.

Natan’s pupils are the size of a gun barrel, wide and black with terror—a kind of terror I’ve never seen on my brother’s face. Or anyone’s face.

That look in Natan’s eyes…is now in Adam’s.

Click-clack. A metal slide moving forward and backward before…

Snap.

The chamber is loaded.

Click-tick.

Click.

Boom.

A startling explosive bang, then a high-pitched ringing zings through my ears.

Adam isn’t as fortunate as Natan was that night.

My vision darkens and blurs, feeling the world spin around me, shake me around and thrust me off my feet. The sound doesn’t stop…it just echoes in my head and strangles the air out of my lungs. A scream warbles and I don’t know if it’s mine or someone else’s. I can’t open my eyes…I don’t want to.