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Authors: Moya Simons
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held her hand out helplessly as Aunty Gitta, Erich and Agnes were herded, bewildered, out of the apartment, with suitcases not fully packed. Suddenly, in the rush of pushing, shoving, overturned furniture and everyone being swept away, Papa knelt beside me and whispered, ‘Rachel, you must make yourself very small. You must hide in the cupboard under the sink. You will hear noise, lots of noise, but you must not speak. That’s very important. You must be quiet to save your life.’
‘But, Papa, what do I do when you are gone?’
‘You take off the yellow star. Go to the shops where you have been with me, where they have been kind to us because I have treated their family. Beg them to take you in. Now I have to go. Remember, ignore any noises you hear. You must be absolutely silent.’
Those words, whispered fearfully to me by my papa, would be remembered forever with the clearness of sprinkled dew upon a leaf. That moment would be fixed in my mind’s eye, Papa’s face, his eyes dark and wide, the last glance of Mama’s face with her hand resting for a moment on my cheek. Her hand was to become a pendulum, stroking me gently through time.
Trembling, while the soldiers were preoccupied with shuffling people down the staircase outside our apartment, I raced to the kitchen. I knelt and climbed inside the kitchen cupboard and pulled the latch of the door closed behind me. I curled up, used to being cramped from so much time spent in wardrobes.
I must be quiet.
I could hear the thud of boots, Nazi boots, and voices, laughing. Why did they laugh?
I heard a soldier say, ‘There’s one person missing from this list, a child called Rachel Schwarz. She wasn’t with her parents. Her father said she’d gone to visit a friend down the road. Not likely. Search under the beds.’
Then I heard things being thrown around the apartment, and a high-pitched squeal. Was that my voice, I wondered. Surely not? Papa had said, ‘You must not speak.’ Had anyone heard me? Was the squeal lost in the overturning of tables, the upending of chairs, the thumping of boots?
Someone came into the kitchen. The cupboard door opened with a creak.
I couldn’t move. I couldn’t feel anything. I crouched behind Mama’s soup pot, behind her saucepans and frying pan, all stacked neatly, like a reminder of an ordered life.
I saw a clear forehead and two blue eyes, a slice of frying pan then a mouth, thin lips. An ear, pink and shell-like, separated from a face by my mother’s saucepan lid. The soldier, looking sideways at me, stared. His lips parted and I saw very white even teeth and a strange look of surprise.
Suddenly the young man with the blue eyes and a seashell ear closed the cupboard door and walked away. He had left me there.
‘Check in the other Judenhaus ,’ he called out to the other soldiers. ‘There’s no-one here. I’ll look upstairs again. We’ll board up the place later.’
Why did he choose to become blind? Later, did he see again, and pluck other children from hiding places?
Chapter Ten
S ILENCE . C OMPLETE SILENCE . There was not a squeak in the whole building. I was alone. Would my family return? A dull ache began to throb in my stomach. Miri? Where are you, Miri? Mama? Papa? Aunty Gitta? My cousins? Where has everyone gone? Are they going to be all right?
‘Where’s Rachel? She should be with us. We are going to be relocated. How will she find us?’ That’s what they would say when they realised I wasn’t with them. But if they were going somewhere safe, why had Papa told me to hide in the kitchen cupboard? Why had he told me to beg any of his former patients who sold us food to take me in? He didn’t like me leaving the house for any reason, so why would he tell me this?
Papa had told me I must be silent. I kept repeating this in my mind, over and over. It was the last thing he’d said to me. To be absolutely silent. So I crouched and waited.
While I sat there, numb with fear, I felt a lump in
‘But, Papa, what do I do when you are gone?’
‘You take off the yellow star. Go to the shops where you have been with me, where they have been kind to us because I have treated their family. Beg them to take you in. Now I have to go. Remember, ignore any noises you hear. You must be absolutely silent.’
Those words, whispered fearfully to me by my papa, would be remembered forever with the clearness of sprinkled dew upon a leaf. That moment would be fixed in my mind’s eye, Papa’s face, his eyes dark and wide, the last glance of Mama’s face with her hand resting for a moment on my cheek. Her hand was to become a pendulum, stroking me gently through time.
Trembling, while the soldiers were preoccupied with shuffling people down the staircase outside our apartment, I raced to the kitchen. I knelt and climbed inside the kitchen cupboard and pulled the latch of the door closed behind me. I curled up, used to being cramped from so much time spent in wardrobes.
I must be quiet.
I could hear the thud of boots, Nazi boots, and voices, laughing. Why did they laugh?
I heard a soldier say, ‘There’s one person missing from this list, a child called Rachel Schwarz. She wasn’t with her parents. Her father said she’d gone to visit a friend down the road. Not likely. Search under the beds.’
Then I heard things being thrown around the apartment, and a high-pitched squeal. Was that my voice, I wondered. Surely not? Papa had said, ‘You must not speak.’ Had anyone heard me? Was the squeal lost in the overturning of tables, the upending of chairs, the thumping of boots?
Someone came into the kitchen. The cupboard door opened with a creak.
I couldn’t move. I couldn’t feel anything. I crouched behind Mama’s soup pot, behind her saucepans and frying pan, all stacked neatly, like a reminder of an ordered life.
I saw a clear forehead and two blue eyes, a slice of frying pan then a mouth, thin lips. An ear, pink and shell-like, separated from a face by my mother’s saucepan lid. The soldier, looking sideways at me, stared. His lips parted and I saw very white even teeth and a strange look of surprise.
Suddenly the young man with the blue eyes and a seashell ear closed the cupboard door and walked away. He had left me there.
‘Check in the other Judenhaus ,’ he called out to the other soldiers. ‘There’s no-one here. I’ll look upstairs again. We’ll board up the place later.’
Why did he choose to become blind? Later, did he see again, and pluck other children from hiding places?
Chapter Ten
S ILENCE . C OMPLETE SILENCE . There was not a squeak in the whole building. I was alone. Would my family return? A dull ache began to throb in my stomach. Miri? Where are you, Miri? Mama? Papa? Aunty Gitta? My cousins? Where has everyone gone? Are they going to be all right?
‘Where’s Rachel? She should be with us. We are going to be relocated. How will she find us?’ That’s what they would say when they realised I wasn’t with them. But if they were going somewhere safe, why had Papa told me to hide in the kitchen cupboard? Why had he told me to beg any of his former patients who sold us food to take me in? He didn’t like me leaving the house for any reason, so why would he tell me this?
Papa had told me I must be silent. I kept repeating this in my mind, over and over. It was the last thing he’d said to me. To be absolutely silent. So I crouched and waited.
While I sat there, numb with fear, I felt a lump in
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