Read Online Two Rings by Millie Werber - Free Book Online Page A

felt older than anything, an ancient connection awakened in a terrible time, maybe because of the terror of the time.
    Let me think, let me think: Can I pinpoint the beginning of my love? It wasn’t when I first saw him, that I know. Heniek was a ladies’ man, as I have said, dashing and confident when he swept into the barracks to check in on the women. We were called the armaments workers, but really, we were slaves, half starving, beyond exhausted; no one had more than a single change of clothes. When had anyone last brushed her teeth? Set her hair? And yet when Heniek came in, smartly put together with his policeman’s cap and his polished boots, he spoke to us as if we were women—real, true women and not the bedraggled creatures we surely were. His gentle flatteries—they were innocuous, offhand, but for that, all the more charming—they endeared him to us. Over time, I started to realize why the women might have wanted to do him small favors, to be noticed by a man like this, to be desired even by a good man—no one ever spoke ill of Heniek, not during the war and not after—and to be noticed in a place like this.
    But not for me. Heniek’s attentions were not for me; I was the smarkata. A kid, a fifteen-year-old brat. I wasn’t worth his notice.
    But later . . . when? Some months, maybe; surely after Zwirek had saved my life. I find my mind is filled with him. Heniek comes into the barracks to escort a group to the factory compound a couple of kilometers away, and the air about me feels charged, electric. A young girl’s infatuation with an
older and striking man—I suppose I have to admit that. I suppose that must be some part of it. But that is not all of it; it isn’t only that.
    I am lying in my bunk; it’s Sunday, maybe, a day without work at the factory. There is nothing to do, nothing to expect. The women in the barracks are shuffling about; some go to the latrine to rinse out their clothes, some are softly chatting. Everyone is hungry; everyone is withered from exhaustion. It is a day of emptiness like every other. Then, in my bunk, thinking of nothing, staring at nothing, I feel something inside me stir. Deep beyond anything I can touch, deep down in the pit of my stomach, something comes alive. I am up, out of my bunk, and at the window. I look past the grime on the glass and out into the desolate yard. There’s no one there, just the dust of the ground, and the other barracks beyond. Then suddenly Heniek comes into view. My heart races at the sight of him.
    But how did I know? How did I know that Heniek was near?
    I keep my heart in hiding. Heniek must not know this young girl is drawn to him. I don’t understand this feeling that has overtaken me, consumed me. That I want him near. That I can feel it when he’s near. I don’t know where it came from.
    When I was younger, twelve, maybe, or thirteen, I sometimes would sneak into the corner of the courtyard outside our apartment building on Wolnosc Street and sit with my friends, girls and boys both, and we would exchange playing cards on which were printed little love notes. “I like the way you look.” “I would like to walk with you to school.” “I think your dress is pretty.” We passed them around amid giggles and bashful eyes. It was innocent, daringly risqué, and hugely fun. This is what I
knew of boys and girls—playing cards in a courtyard. It was exciting enough.
    Now, in the factory, it’s different. I’m just fifteen—barely out of pigtails and entirely innocent of the ways of men and women. Yet I dream of Heniek kissing me, holding me, running his fingers through my baby-fine hair.
    One day, Heniek catches my eye as we stand outside the barracks. I look away, unsure of what I’m supposed to do. But I see him smile.
    One day, when Heniek comes to escort the women to the factory, he positions himself near me so that we walk side by