The Librarian of Auschwitz

Dita scurries round to the back of the hut so they won’t see her when they come out. She slumps to the ground.

Kindhearted Mr. Tomá?ek … how could he? And whom can she trust now?

She recalls Professor Morgenstern’s words: Trust yourself.

She’s on her own.

*

Fredy Hirsch has also found himself on his own. He’s sitting in his room when there’s a knock on the door. Miriam Edelstein comes in, sits down on the wooden floor, and rests her back against the wall. She looks incredibly tired.

“Did Eichmann make any comment about your report?” she asks.

“No, nothing.”

“What does he want it for?”

“Who knows.…”

“Schwarzhuber was in high spirits. He was smiling at Eichmann the whole time like a little lap dog.”

“Or a Doberman.”

“True. His face does remind you of a blond Doberman. And what about Mengele? He seemed like a fish out of water.”

“He’s going it alone.”

Miriam falls silent. It would never have occurred to her to speak about Mengele like that—as if he were an acquaintance.

“I don’t know how you are able to get along with such a repugnant person.”

“He’s the one who authorized the delivery to Block Thirty-One of the food parcels sent to dead prisoners. I get along with him because that’s my duty. I know some people say that Mengele is my friend. They know nothing. If it were advantageous to our children, I’d get along with the devil himself.”

“You already do.” And Miriam smiles and gives him an understanding wink as she says it.

“Dealing with Mengele has one advantage. He doesn’t hate us. He’s too intelligent for that. But that might be why he’s the most terrible Nazi of them all.”

“If he doesn’t hate us, why does he collaborate with this whole aberration?”

“Because it suits him. He’s not one of those Nazis who believe that we Jews are a race of inferior, hunchbacked beings from hell. He’s told me so. He finds many admirable qualities in Jews—”

“So why does he destroy us, then?”

“Because we are dangerous. We are the race that is capable of confronting the Aryans. We are the ones who can defeat their supremacy. That’s why they have to eliminate us. It’s nothing personal as far as he’s concerned; it’s simply a practical matter. Hatred is unknown to him … but the awful thing is that he doesn’t know compassion, either. There is nothing that moves him.”

“I couldn’t negotiate with criminals like that.”

And pain flashes across her face as she says it.

Fredy stands up, walks over to her, and asks her fondly, “Have you heard anything more about Yakub?”

By the time Miriam and her family had arrived from Terezín six months earlier, the Gestapo already had her husband in custody and transferred him three kilometers away to Auschwitz I, the prison for political prisoners. She has neither seen nor heard anything about him since.

“I was able to talk to Eichmann for a moment this morning. He knows me from some meetings in Prague, but at first he pretended he didn’t recognize me. He’s despicable, like all the Nazis. The guards were on the point of hitting me, but he did at least stop them, and let me ask him about Yakub. He told me they transferred him to Germany, that he’s perfectly fine, and that we’ll soon all be reunited. Then he did an about-face and left before I’d finished. I had a letter for Yakub, but I wasn’t even able to hand it over. Arieh had written a few lines for his dad.…”

“Let me see what I can find out.”

“Thanks, Fredy.”

“I owe it to you,” Fredy adds.

Miriam nods again. She knows he does, but it’s something she’s not supposed to talk about.

*

Dita makes her way along the Lagerstrasse. She’s going after Mr. Tomá?ek; he disgusts her more than the SS. They wear uniforms, and you know who they are and what they’re about. She fears them, she despises them, even hates them … but she’s never before felt the nausea that the thought of the elegant Mr. Tomá?ek’s Jewish smile provokes in her.

As she rushes to her destination, she tries to form a plan, but she can’t come up with anything. She can only tell the truth.

She reaches her father’s hut. In front of it she finds the usual group of people gathered around Mr. Tomá?ek, her parents among them, of course. A woman is talking about something. Mr. Tomá?ek, eyes half closed, nods in agreement from his spot in the middle of the group and, with a smile, encourages the woman to continue.

Dita bursts in, even splashing mud on some of them.

“My goodness, child!”

Dita blushes, and her voice shakes. But her arm isn’t shaking as she raises it and points to the person in the center of the group.

“Mr. Tomá?ek is a traitor. He’s an SS informer.”

The muttering can be heard immediately, and people stir nervously. Mr. Tomá?ek tries to keep his smile in place, but he’s not entirely successful. It’s skewed to one side.

Liesl Adler is one of the first to stand up.

“Edita! What are you saying?”

“I’ll tell you,” interjects one of the women. “Your daughter is ill-mannered. How dare she burst in like this to insult an important person like Mr. Tomá?ek?”

“Mrs. Adler,” adds one of the men, “you should give your daughter a good slap. And if you don’t, I will.”

“Mama, I’m telling the truth,” says Dita nervously and with less certainty now. “I heard him speaking with the Priest in the clothing hut. He’s an informer!”

“Impossible!” says the woman who spoke earlier, absolutely outraged.

“Either you give your daughter a slap right now to shut her up, or I’ll do it for you.” The man starts to move toward Dita.

“If anyone is to be punished, then punish me,” says Liesl calmly. “I’m her mother, and if my daughter has behaved improperly, then I’m the one you should slap.”

At that, Hans Adler speaks up.

“Nobody’s going to be slapped,” he states firmly. “Edita is telling the truth. I know she is.”

A chorus of stunned whispers runs around the group.

“Of course I’m telling the truth,” shouts Dita, feeling braver. “I heard the Priest telling him to hand over information about the Resistance. That’s why he spends the whole day walking around the camp. That’s why he asks so many questions and gets people to talk about their problems.”

“Are you going to deny it, Mr. Tomá?ek?” asks Mr. Adler, firing a look in his direction.

Almost all of them turn their heads toward Tomá?ek, who’s silent. He just stands there, the customary half smile still on his face.

“I…” he begins. Everyone prepares to listen. They’re sure it’s a misunderstanding he can easily clear up. “I…”

But that’s as far as he gets. He clears a path and hurries off to his hut. Perplexed, they all stand there looking at each other and at the three members of the Adler family. Dita hugs her father.

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