‘I have no problem with you keeping your faith,’ says Lale gently. ‘In fact, I will encourage your faith if it means a lot to you and keeps you by my side. When we leave here, I will encourage you to practise your faith, and when our babies come along, they can follow their mother’s faith. Does that satisfy you?’
‘Babies? I don’t know if I will be able to have children. I think I’m screwed up inside.’
‘Once we leave here and I can fatten you up a little, we will have babies, and they will be beautiful babies; they will take after their mother.’
‘Thank you, my love. You make me want to believe in a future.’
‘Good. Does that mean you will tell me your surname and where you come from?’
‘Not yet. I told you, on the day we leave this place. Please don’t ask me again.’
?
After parting from Gita, Lale seeks out Leon and a few others from Block 7. It’s a beautiful summer’s day and he intends to enjoy the sun and his friends while he can. They sit against the wall of one of the blocks. Their conversation is simple. At the sound of the siren, Lale says his goodbyes and makes his way back to his block. As he nears the building he senses something is wrong. The Romani children stand around, not running to meet him, but stepping aside as he walks by. He greets them, but they don’t respond. He understands why immediately when he opens the door to his room. Displayed on his bed are the gems and currency from under his mattress. Two SS officers are waiting.
‘Care to explain this, T?towierer?’
Lale can find no words.
One of the officers snatches Lale’s bag from his hands and empties his tools and ink bottles onto the floor. Then they put the bounty into the bag. With pistols drawn they face Lale squarely and motion for him to move. The children stand aside as Lale is marched out of the Gypsy camp for what he believes will be the last time.
?
Lale stands in front of Houstek, the contents of his bag spread out over the Oberscharführer’s desk.
Houstek picks up and examines each precious stone and piece of jewellery, one at a time. ‘Where did you get all this?’ he asks, not looking up.
‘Prisoners gave it to me.’
‘Which prisoners?’
‘I do not know their names.’
Houstek looks up at Lale, sharp. ‘You don’t know who gave you all this?’
‘No, I do not.’
‘I’m meant to believe that?’
‘Yes, sir. They bring it to me, but I do not ask them their names.’
Houstek slams his fist on the desk, causing the gems to jangle.
‘This makes me very angry, T?towierer. You are good at your job. Now I will have to find someone else to do it.’ He turns to the escorting officers. ‘Take him to Block 11. He’ll soon remember the names there.’
Lale is marched out and placed in a truck. Two SS officers sit either side of him, each ramming a pistol into his ribs. During the four-kilometre drive Lale silently says goodbye to Gita and the future they were just imagining. Closing his eyes, he mentally says the names of each of his family members. He cannot picture his siblings as clearly as he used to. His mother he can see perfectly. But how do you say goodbye to your mother? The person who gave you breath, who taught you how to live? He cannot say goodbye to her. He gasps as his father’s image comes before him, causing one of the officers to push his pistol harder into his ribs. The last time he saw his father he was crying. He doesn’t want this to be how he remembers him, so he searches for another image and comes up with his father working with his beloved horses. He always spoke so warmly to them in contrast to the way he expressed himself to his children. Lale’s brother Max, older and wiser. He tells him he hopes he hasn’t let him down, that he has tried to act as Max would have in his place. When he thinks of his little sister, Goldie, the pain is too much.
The truck comes to a sudden halt, throwing Lale against the officer next to him.
He is placed in a small room in Block 11. The reputation of Blocks 10 and 11 are well known. They are the punishment blocks. Behind these secluded torture houses stands the Black Wall, the execution wall. Lale expects that he will be taken there after being tortured.
For two days he sits in the cell, the only light coming in through a crack under the door. While he listens to the cries and screams of others, he relives every moment he has spent with Gita.
On the third day, he is blinded by sunlight spilling into the room. A large man blocks the doorway and hands him a bowl of liquid. Lale takes it, and as his eyes adjust, he recognises the man.
‘Jakub, is that you?’
Jakub enters the room, the low ceiling forcing him to stoop.
‘T?towierer. What are you doing here?’ Jakub is visibly shocked.
Lale struggles to his feet, his hand outstretched. ‘I often wondered what had happened to you,’ he says.
‘As you predicted, they found work for me.’
‘So you’re a guard?’
‘Not just a guard, my friend.’ Jakub’s voice is grim. ‘Sit and eat and I will tell you what I do here and what will happen to you.’
Apprehensively, Lale sits and looks at the food Jakub has given him. A thin, dirty broth containing a single piece of potato. Starving a few moments ago, he finds his appetite has now left him.
‘I have never forgotten your kindness,’ Jakub says. ‘I was sure I would die of starvation the night I arrived here, and there you were to feed me.’
‘Well, you need more food than most.’
‘I’ve heard stories of you smuggling food. Are they true?’
‘That’s why I’m in here. The prisoners working in the Canada smuggle me money and gems and I use them to buy food and medicine from the villagers, which I distribute. I guess someone missed out and told on me.’
‘You don’t know who?’
‘Do you?’
‘No, it’s not my job to know. My job is to get names from you – names of prisoners who might be planning to escape or resist, and of course the names of the prisoners who get the money and jewels to you.’
Lale looks away. The enormity of what Jakub is saying begins to register.
‘Like you, T?towierer, I do what I have to do, to survive.’
Lale nods.
‘I am to beat you until you give me names. I am a killer, Lale.’
Lale shakes his hanging head, mutters every swear word he knows.
‘I have no choice.’
Mixed emotions race through Lale. Names of dead pris-oners flit through his mind. Could he give Jakub those names? No. They’ll find out eventually, and then I’ll be back here again.
‘The thing is,’ Jakub says, ‘I can’t let you give me any names.’
Lale stares, confused.
‘You were kind to me and I will make the beating look worse than it is, but I will kill you before I let you tell me a name. I want as little innocent blood on my hands as possible,’ Jakub explains.
‘Oh, Jakub. I never imagined this would be the work they found for you. I’m so sorry.’
‘If I must kill one Jew to save ten others, then I will.’
Lale reaches his hand up to the large man’s shoulder. ‘Do what you have to.’
‘Speak only in Yiddish,’ says Jakub, turning away. ‘I don’t think the SS here know you or that you speak German.’
‘OK, Yiddish it is.’
‘I’ll be here again later.’
Back in darkness, Lale ponders his fate. He resolves to speak no names. It is now a matter of who kills him: a bored SS officer whose supper is getting cold, or Jakub, carrying out a just killing to save others. A sense of calm comes over him as he resigns himself to death.
Will someone tell Gita what happened to him, he wonders, or will she spend the rest of her life never knowing?
Lale falls into a deep, exhausted sleep.
?
‘Where is he?’ his father roars, storming into the house.
Once again Lale has not turned up to work. His father is late home for supper because he had to do Lale’s work for him. Lale runs and tries to hide behind his mother, pulling her away from the bench where she stands, putting a barrier between himself and his father. She reaches back and grabs hold of whatever part of Lale or his clothing she can, protecting him from what would otherwise be a cuff over the head at the least. His father doesn’t force her away or make any further attempt to reach Lale.
‘I’ll deal with him,’ his mother says. ‘After dinner I’ll punish him. Now sit down.’