Chapter 9 #2
He reminds me of the way Noah looked when we were young, before he filled out into a man.
A youthful expression, life still bright in his eyes, a will to live despite all that he’d been through—all things that belong as a memory in my past. The thought stings more than it soothes the ache in my chest.
“He’s right. There must be a way. We’ll find a way,” I agree. We must keep moving.
Avi doesn’t appear impressed with his problem-solving skills, but she hasn’t come up with a better solution. At least the smoke is darker and thicker on the other side of the wire. We can’t be too far away. Away from whatever awaits us.
Elias doesn’t hesitate before walking toward what we all know to be a death trap to keep prisoners as prisoners. Avi grabs his arm. “Are you completely senseless?”
“Senseless?” Elias chuckles. “After living in Auschwitz a year. Most likely. Do you still have yours intact?”
I step between Avi and Elias. “We all lost our minds long before now, but Avi’s right. The wires could be live,” I say. I would think that should be the first thought on his mind.
“The wires in Auschwitz hadn’t been live in weeks,” he says. “I worked near the fence—clearing snow and mud, so I know. I even watched a man try running into it, only to watch him bounce back with nothing but a headache.” He inspects the area for a moment. “Plus, right here, we’re between trees.”
It’s been weeks since the wires were live. Yet, I can see the consequence of that electric current every time I blink.
The way the snow melted around the poles, the sizzle of each snowflake falling onto a live wire.
The way I imagined myself as one of those snowflakes, wondering what it would feel like to end the torture.
Then feeling the overwhelming guilt for considering giving up when I still had a choice.
When I stared for too long, someone would throw themselves against the fence.
Their bodies would tremble and fall helplessly to the ground, then remain there until brought to the crematorium.
“That doesn’t mean these are safe,” I say.
Avi crouches near the drooping wires connected between wooden fence posts.
“These aren’t live wires. You’d hear the buzz, and there are no grounding posts, just trees.
” Avi studies the wires the same way someone might study a trap.
“That doesn’t mean it’s safe to cross. We go underneath or through the spot it’s already broken. ”
Gerda steps in closer to Avi, her eyes wide, forehead creased with worry. “I—I don’t think I can crawl.” She’s skin and bone like the rest of us. There’s no padding to cushion bone from the frozen ground.
Avi gives her a quick nod, then moves to the broken fencing. She wraps the sleeve of her coat around the wood and pulls down into the bend, but aside from a slight groan, there’s no give. The ground is too solid to give way, and the wood is thick.
“I’ll go first,” Avi says, shrugging her coat off to wrap around the top wire.
Elias removes his coat too and drops it over the bottom wire. The width of space to move through looks too narrow. “My father and I used to forage around trenches from the Great War. We just need to protect our skin with layers. The more, the better.”
“You did this for fun?” Avi quips before looping her leg over the bottom, then securing her foot on the other side.
She does the same with her hand, planting it in the snow.
I rush to her side, making sure her coat doesn’t slip out of position from the top where her head needs to slide through.
The smell of rust is strong, pungent in the damp air.
Almost effortlessly, she swooshes her head between the opening, and her other arm follows. With one more swift move, her uniform scrapes between the two wool coats, proving the maneuver to the other side possible without being torn to shreds. “Elias, go next,” I tell him.
He doesn’t argue. He puts himself into the same position Avi began in and follows her lead, making it seem even easier than she did.
“Gerda, ready?” I ask her. Her face has gone pale, paler than it’s been, and her hands are shaking by her sides.
“Not exactly, but I can’t stay here.”
Avi and Elias are on the other side to help her, and I hold my hand above her head, holding her free arm as she straddles, ducks and swoops, much more cautiously than the last two.
It’s just me now. If I follow the motions, I’ll be fine. Reach a leg through, then a hand. Duck my head and—potatoes spill out of my pockets.
“Stop!” Avi shouts. “Dear God. Don’t move!” I thought she hollered because of the potatoes, but now I realize that isn’t why. A spike tore through Avi’s coat and has snagged mine beneath it.
“Did it break your skin?” Elias asks frantically.
“No—no, I’m—I’m just stuck.” I think.
Avi wriggles the fabric of my coat around until I hear a pluck. The ground shudders beneath me again, and I clench my toes as my foot slips.
“Keep moving, Celina,” Avi says. I fix my stare on Avi’s boots and the dried blood on the wire surrounding Elias’s coat. “You’re almost there.”
I lose feeling in my hands and my lower body as I pull my last limb over the wire. I collapse into the snow as the wet, freezing fabric of my uniform clings to my ribs. I reach for the potatoes, dragging them along the snow, and shove them back into my pockets.
Avi and Elias struggle to untangle their coats from the coils as I muster the energy to push myself up and off the snow.
Gerda places her hand on my back. “Come on, dear. You’re getting soaked.”
She sounds like Mama. The thought of Mama’s hand on my back, encouraging me to try harder at whatever I was doing, was all I ever needed. The memory hits harder than the fall against the icy ground.
As soon as I’m up on my feet and we move again, echoing mumbles grow from the woods ahead, where the smoke is still calling for us. Whoever started the fire, hasn’t left yet.
The closer we get to the smoke, the louder the voices. I try and focus on the words, trying to make out the language, but nothing is clear. Almost nothing…
I stop, the snow sinking beneath me. I stare ahead with sudden reluctance, not from the unfamiliar language, but from the harsh odor whipping through the air. Smoke isn’t always just smoke—sometimes it’s a storm of human ash, which may be all I remember now.