Read Online Rena's Promise by Heather Dune Macadam, Rena Kornreich Gelissen - Free Book Online
Authors: Heather Dune Macadam, Rena Kornreich Gelissen
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eyes reflect nothing. I think to myself, This must be an insane asylum, but why would they make the mentally ill work? That's not fair.
I do not comprehend my surroundings. I keep thinking, I am well brought up, well educated, well dressed. I was looking very nice when I went to the barracks in Slovakia wearing my beautiful suit, though it does not look so good now. Still, my white boots look pretty and spotless because I've been careful not to step in any mud. Walking through these gates, I forget my resolve and think
2. Prior to March 26, 1942, the only prisoners in Auschwitz were men, mostly Polish Gentiles serving time for their political or religious beliefs and Russian prisoners of war.
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for one moment about who I was at home. I'm a neat person. I should not be here. I am different. I come from a good family. The desire to curl up in a warm blanket of past memories permeates my effort to keep in step. Forget about that now , Rena, I reprimand my weakness, that's history. I stare at the acres of barbed wire around us. This is reality.
''Halt!" We freeze, complacent and obedient under the rifles and watchtowers around us. There are rows of brick buildings going down the side of the camp road, the Lagerstrasse, and a high wall with barbed wire. We are forced to line up so as to be going in the door of the first block. Time passes. Is it hours or is it days? I am somewhere toward the end of this line when people start coming out of the other side with no hair on their heads.
Leaning toward the girl next to me, I whisper, "There are more crazy people. We must be in an institution for the insane." She nods in agreement.
"Sophie! It's me!" some crazy bald person shouts to one of the girls nearby.
"Freida? Is that you? What happened to your hair?" Sophie yells back.
"Don't ask questions." Her bald head checks around her to see if anyone is listening. "If you have jewelry, step it into the mud."
I look at the watch I am wearing. I can hear the children of Tylicz laughing with me as I run through the streets toward the post office, where I have just received my first phone call all the way from Krynica. "Rena has a boyfriend!" they chant. "Rena has a boyfriend!" "Do you like the watch I gave you?" my current beau asked on the crackling wire. "I love it," I flirted, "I will never take it off.'' "Well, you better if you go swimming or bathe," he flirted back .
I break my foolish promise, ripping the band from my wrist. You cannot have my memories! You cannot have anything of mine! Driving it into the mud with my heel, dirtying my precious white felt boots, I smash it into a thousand pieces.
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Page 62
The door to Block One looms before us. Inside, the unknown is happening. We can hear screams. We can see the girl-women coming out, but we tell ourselves we will not look different when we exit this place. Digging my fingernails into my palms, I pray I will be the one girl to exit with my hair. Then I am inside the block.
In a daze I walk up to the first table, as I have just seen the girl in front of me do. "What are you?" a German woman asks.
"Polish," I answer. She grunts, writing down my information. She does not ask me what race I am, and I do not offer the fact that I am also Jewish. I am puzzled by her clothes. She is not SS, she is definitely Reichdeutsche, but she is wearing a triangle with a number over it. It occurs to me that she may be a prisoner. 3
"Two gold crowns," she announces.
My mind races. Why would they make a note about my teeth? Oh, my God, they're going to take my crowns and then I'll look ugly. I go to the second table pulling my upper lip over my teeth, tilting my head down just slightly so no one notices the money in my mouth.
"Get those earrings off," the next German woman barks at me. I look around wondering who is being spoken to in such a tone of voice. "You there! Take those earrings off or I'll rip them out!"
"Me?" I am stunned. Touching my lobes gingerly, I realize my
I do not comprehend my surroundings. I keep thinking, I am well brought up, well educated, well dressed. I was looking very nice when I went to the barracks in Slovakia wearing my beautiful suit, though it does not look so good now. Still, my white boots look pretty and spotless because I've been careful not to step in any mud. Walking through these gates, I forget my resolve and think
2. Prior to March 26, 1942, the only prisoners in Auschwitz were men, mostly Polish Gentiles serving time for their political or religious beliefs and Russian prisoners of war.
page_61
Page 61
for one moment about who I was at home. I'm a neat person. I should not be here. I am different. I come from a good family. The desire to curl up in a warm blanket of past memories permeates my effort to keep in step. Forget about that now , Rena, I reprimand my weakness, that's history. I stare at the acres of barbed wire around us. This is reality.
''Halt!" We freeze, complacent and obedient under the rifles and watchtowers around us. There are rows of brick buildings going down the side of the camp road, the Lagerstrasse, and a high wall with barbed wire. We are forced to line up so as to be going in the door of the first block. Time passes. Is it hours or is it days? I am somewhere toward the end of this line when people start coming out of the other side with no hair on their heads.
Leaning toward the girl next to me, I whisper, "There are more crazy people. We must be in an institution for the insane." She nods in agreement.
"Sophie! It's me!" some crazy bald person shouts to one of the girls nearby.
"Freida? Is that you? What happened to your hair?" Sophie yells back.
"Don't ask questions." Her bald head checks around her to see if anyone is listening. "If you have jewelry, step it into the mud."
I look at the watch I am wearing. I can hear the children of Tylicz laughing with me as I run through the streets toward the post office, where I have just received my first phone call all the way from Krynica. "Rena has a boyfriend!" they chant. "Rena has a boyfriend!" "Do you like the watch I gave you?" my current beau asked on the crackling wire. "I love it," I flirted, "I will never take it off.'' "Well, you better if you go swimming or bathe," he flirted back .
I break my foolish promise, ripping the band from my wrist. You cannot have my memories! You cannot have anything of mine! Driving it into the mud with my heel, dirtying my precious white felt boots, I smash it into a thousand pieces.
page_62
Page 62
The door to Block One looms before us. Inside, the unknown is happening. We can hear screams. We can see the girl-women coming out, but we tell ourselves we will not look different when we exit this place. Digging my fingernails into my palms, I pray I will be the one girl to exit with my hair. Then I am inside the block.
In a daze I walk up to the first table, as I have just seen the girl in front of me do. "What are you?" a German woman asks.
"Polish," I answer. She grunts, writing down my information. She does not ask me what race I am, and I do not offer the fact that I am also Jewish. I am puzzled by her clothes. She is not SS, she is definitely Reichdeutsche, but she is wearing a triangle with a number over it. It occurs to me that she may be a prisoner. 3
"Two gold crowns," she announces.
My mind races. Why would they make a note about my teeth? Oh, my God, they're going to take my crowns and then I'll look ugly. I go to the second table pulling my upper lip over my teeth, tilting my head down just slightly so no one notices the money in my mouth.
"Get those earrings off," the next German woman barks at me. I look around wondering who is being spoken to in such a tone of voice. "You there! Take those earrings off or I'll rip them out!"
"Me?" I am stunned. Touching my lobes gingerly, I realize my
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