But we had used precious sedative, and I knew how hard that was to come by. Besides, could I really expect that family to say goodbye to their precious daughter a second time? Sara had told me exactly what to do. I was just too scared to follow her instructions.
Tears threatened, but I blinked them away because I knew if I let even one out, I would dissolve into sobs. Instead, I drew in some deep breaths and began to pray.
God. Please. Help me know what to do. Tomasz, if you can hear me, I need you to intercede for me. Father, if you’re listening, please help me.
Just bringing my family to mind was enough. I knew that my father would have scooped up that bag and marched through the checkpoint with his head held high. Tomasz would have, too. Courage was in my blood. I had inherited it at my birth, and I had learned it from their legacy.
I just had to reach inside deep enough to access it.
I carefully lifted the bag as I rose, and I made my way to the Krasin´ski gates. I checked my pocket to ensure that I had my paperwork. I made a point to avoid eye contact with those who passed, in case some desperate soul had the idea to try to steal my bag. I stared at the ground as my footsteps fell rhythmically.
They will ask why I am here alone. Who in their right mind would allow a fourteen-year-old to perform epidemic control on her own? All it will take will be for the soldier to question me, and I will burst into tears. My hands are so sweaty, what if I drop the bag? What if the baby is already dead? What if I’m caught and tortured? I would give the whole game up. I wouldn’t have the strength to keep Sara’s and Matylda’s secrets. I can barely keep my own.
The checkpoint was ahead. A tradesman passed through as I approached. The guards checked his papers but barely acknowledged him. They were standing side by side at the gate, one of them smoking. I withdrew my papers and offered them to one of the guards, just as I might have done if Sara was with me.
I waited for him to ask why I was alone. I waited for him to inspect the bag. I waited to be caught, exposed, executed—just like my father, just like my brother. How swiftly would death come? Would I feel the bullet as it entered my skull? Would I hear the gunshot? Or would the first I knew of it be my entrance to heaven, and if that were the case, would I be greeted by my father and brother? Would they be proud of me for trying to help this baby or disappointed that I’d failed?
“Miss?” the soldier prompted sharply. My breakfast was a solid lump in my throat, ready to escape.
“Yes?”
He gave me a pointed look. They had waved me through, but I was so caught up in my terror, I was frozen. I nodded curtly, seriously and sensibly as I imagined any adult would, and I began my march up the road.
My next challenge was finding the tram stop, and this was more complicated than I expected it to be. Which one was I supposed to take, and where was it? I was disoriented in my panic, and I had no idea which direction I should walk. It seemed unsafe to ask for directions. Just then, I felt it—the tiniest rolling movement from within the medical bag.
Eleonora was waking up. A baby was about to start wailing from the bottom of my bag.
I broke out in a cold sweat, conscious of random German soldiers patrolling the street and of unsympathetic Poles. I looked around, desperate to find some familiar landmark, and that’s when I realized which side of the ghetto we were on.
My home—Sara’s home—our building was only two blocks away.
* * *
I let myself into the lobby and started up the stairs toward the third floor and apartment entrances. The rolling movement from within the bag was coming constantly now as Eleonora squirmed, and I thought maybe I had heard a little cry of protest. My hands were so sweaty I had to keep wiping them on my skirt.
I had no way to explain to Truda why I was dressed in Sara’s clothes. No way to explain why I was wearing makeup. But there was no alternative—I had to go into our apartment to get Sara’s spare key. As I sat the bag down on the floor outside of our apartment, I prayed again.
Please. I need another miracle, just a tiny one this time. Please let Truda be in her bedroom resting or in the kitchen making such a racket that she doesn’t hear the front door.
The door swung open, and I peered cautiously inside, finding the apartment still and at least the living areas blessedly empty. My hands were shaking violently as I swiped the spare key, collected the bag from the hall and let myself into Sara’s apartment.
I locked the door behind me, set the bag on Sara’s sofa and rushed to remove the false bottom. Eleonora Gorka’s big brown eyes stared back at me. She blinked at the light, then gave a miserable, feeble cry.
I leaned away from the bag just as I was sick all over Sara’s carpet, but there was no time to stop to clean my mess or even feel relief. We weren’t safe yet. I still had to figure out what to do next.
I lifted the baby and went to Sara’s sewing kit to retrieve a thimble. I filled it with water from the tap and lifted it to Eleonora’s lips. She protested furiously at first, and I hushed her gently, grateful in some sad way that in her weakened state, her cries were weak, too. When I had at least moistened her lips, I carried her with me to the phone, and I called the switchboard and asked for Matylda’s office.
“Hello?”
“Matylda,” I blurted when the line was connected, suddenly panicking all over again. But I knew that no one in the team ever disclosed the details of their covert operations on the phone. The phone lines were not secure, switchboard operators eavesdropped all the time. I tried to think about the little games I had heard the women of the department playing when they called the orphanages. They made small talk, and in the small talk they would often disclose details in code to help the Sisters at the orphanage know when children were arriving and how they would be dressed.
But that system only worked because people on both sides of the phone knew the game.
“Elz·bieta,” Matylda said cautiously, “how are you today?”
“Sara and I were doing an epidemic check today when I became ill,” I began slowly. “She went on without me, but I just wanted to call the office to let you all know that I had to come home. I have Sara’s medical bag, and I know that she will be looking for it.”
“Thank you for letting me know, Elz·bieta,” Matylda said. I had no idea if she had caught on until she added mildly, “Now, do you think it would be more convenient to leave the bag in Sara’s apartment, or should I send someone to collect it?”
“Well, Sara will need it quite urgently,” I said. “You know how she relies on her medical bag. But she probably doesn’t realize that I came home sick. She was walking to a tram stop after her typhus check to go back to the office, and she may be waiting there for me now. I was just so dizzy I couldn’t find my bearings.”
“Do you know what, Elz·bieta?” Matylda said suddenly. “It is such a lovely afternoon. I think I’ll come and collect the bag myself. By the way, I have a feeling it was the Muranowski Square stop she was using today. Does that ring a bell?”