Then

by Morris Gleitzman

  Zelda looks at Dov warily. ‘So am I,’ she says to him. ‘Sometimes.’

  I glance at Genia to see if she’s realised who Dov is. I don’t think she has.

  ‘Dov is from the Jewish orphanage,’ I say. ‘He met Leopold when he was here helping with the cabbages.’

  Genia is still staring at him, but with a gentler expression.

  ‘I think I remember you,’ she says. ‘Hello, Dov.’

  ‘Hello,’ he mutters.

  ‘I’m glad you’re still alive,’ Genia says quietly. ‘Where are you living now?’

  ‘Krol’s place,’ says Dov.

  Now it’s my turn to stare.

  Mr Krol? The turnip man who tried to kidnap me and Zelda?

  ‘Krol rescued you?’ says Genia.

  Dov nods.

  ‘I thought as much,’ she says. ‘I had a feeling that sly old grump had someone hidden at his place.’

  I try to take this in.

  The reward notice on the cart must be just a disguise, to make the Nazis think Mr Krol hates Jews, so they won’t suspect him of protecting one.

  Incredible.

  ‘Are you hungry, Dov?’ says Genia.

  ‘If there’s not enough rabbit stew,’ I say to her, ‘he can have mine.’

  Genia sighs.

  ‘We’re not having rabbit stew,’ she says. ‘We’re having cabbage soup again.’

  ‘We caught a rabbit,’ says Zelda. ‘But I wouldn’t let her kill it.’

  Genia gives me and Zelda an exasperated look. Sort of loving and cross at the same time. Like she’s forgiving us but wondering where it will all end.

  ‘Sorry there’s no stew,’ Zelda says to Dov.

  ‘That’s all right,’ he says gruffly.

  ‘I’m sure Dov understands,’ says Genia to Zelda. ‘If he’s friends with Felix, he probably doesn’t like the idea of killing things either.’

  After we have the soup, Zelda shows Dov her drawings.

  ‘This is Violetta’s mummy and daddy being nice to chickens,’ she says.

  While Dov looks at the drawings, I try to think of a way of persuading him to stop killing Nazis.

  As it turns out, I don’t need to.

  Genia is sweeping up. Dov’s coat is on the floor where he left it. Genia moves it to sweep under it and the gun falls out with a clatter.

  We all look at the gun.

  Nobody says anything.

  Dov just stares at the table and sort of hunches his shoulders.

  Genia picks the gun up and puts it back in Dov’s coat pocket. I can see she’s thinking hard. When I got back from the river, I told her about seeing Leopold’s friend shoot a Nazi. I think she’s guessed that’s who Dov is.

  She comes and sits next to Dov at the kitchen table. Before she can say anything, he turns to her angrily.

  ‘I came here to see Leopold,’ he says. ‘Where’s Leopold?’

  Genia hesitates.

  This is the moment I’ve been dreading. I should have told Dov about Leopold on the way here, but I was worried he wouldn’t want to come.

  ‘Don’t you know anything?’ says Zelda quietly. ‘The Nazis killed Leopold.’

  Dov jumps to his feet.

  I do too. For a second I think he’s going to lash out at Zelda. But instead he just looks at Genia as if he’s pleading with her to say it’s not true.

  Genia looks at him and nods sadly.

  Dov grabs a wooden bowl and hurls it across the room. It bangs against the wall near the shelf. I hold my breath and wait for Genia to get angry. The bowl almost hit the photo of her husband.

  She doesn’t.

  She just takes hold of Dov’s hand and gently pulls him back down onto the bench next to her.

  ‘We all miss Leopold a lot,’ she says. ‘Just like you must miss your parents. They used to run the Jewish orphanage, didn’t they?’

  Dov doesn’t say anything. Just stares at the table.

  ‘Felix and Zelda miss their families an awful lot,’ Genia says quietly. ‘I miss my sister and her children. We know how you feel, Dov.’

  Dov is clenching his teeth, like he doesn’t want to let any words out. But he does.

  ‘No you don’t,’ he mutters.

  Genia slowly reaches across the table and slides a clean piece of paper over in front of Dov. She puts the pencil on top of it.

  ‘Show us,’ she says softly.

  For a long time Dov just sits there, staring at the paper.

  Just when I think he’s not going to touch it, he suddenly picks up the pencil and starts drawing. Not with careful little movements like Zelda does when she draws. With big violent slashes. Sometimes he tears the paper, but he keeps going.

  Me and Zelda and Genia watch.

  He’s drawing a pit in the ground. I recognise what it is. The children’s grave. There are lots of people lying in it and lots of people standing next to it and lots of Nazis shooting them.

  A drop of liquid splashes onto the paper.

  It’s a tear.

  Dov wipes his face with his hand.

  ‘They took us into the forest,’ he says, his teeth still clenched. ‘Me and my mum and my dad and my brother and all the orphan kids. They shot us. We fell into the hole. I wasn’t dead. People fell on top of me. I was buried in people. They were moaning. They stopped moaning. I climbed out. It was dark. I looked for my family. There were too many bodies.’

  Dov drops the pencil onto the table and puts his hands over his face. His whole body is shaking.

  ‘I couldn’t find them,’ he sobs.

  Genia puts her arms round him and holds him tight.

  We’re all crying now, Genia included.

  After a while, Zelda wipes her eyes. She picks up the pencil and starts drawing on a fresh piece of paper. When she’s finished, she goes round to the other side of the table and gives the drawing to Dov.

  I lean over to see what she’s drawn.

  It’s very simple.

  Two grown-ups with their arms round a child.

  ‘This is my mummy and daddy,’ says Zelda to Dov quietly. ‘They’re Nazis. They’re saying sorry.’

  Then it was time for Dov to leave. Genia went with him to Mr Krol’s place to make sure he got there safely. I stayed at the kitchen table with Zelda.

  She did another drawing.

  Two grown-ups and a child. And some chickens. All dancing.

  ‘This is me and my mummy and daddy,’ says Zelda. ‘We’re not Jewish, but we still love each other.’

  I smile at her.

  ‘I’m glad,’ I say. ‘I’m glad you’re not cross with your mummy and daddy any more.’

  Zelda is looking sadly at the picture.

  ‘They couldn’t help being Nazis,’ she says quietly. ‘I couldn’t tell them not to, I was too little.’

  I give Zelda a hug.

  After a long time she lifts her face from my neck and looks at me with a serious expression.

  ‘Felix,’ she says. ‘Tell Leopold’s friend I don’t want to shoot Nazis any more.’

  I smile again. I’m so happy for her and not just because she’ll be safer now. When your mum and dad have been killed, it’s even worse if you’re angry with them.

  I go to my coat and get Zelda’s locket. I put it round her neck.

  ‘Will you wear this now?’ I say. ‘To keep you safe?’

  Zelda opens the locket and looks at the little photo of her parents.

  She frowns.

  ‘You keep me safe,’ she says. ‘And Genia does. And Richmal Crompton does.’

  ‘We try to,’ I say. ‘But wearing this will help keep you even safer. It’ll make the Nazis like you.’

  She thinks about this for a long time.

  ‘Even if the other Nazis do like me,’ she says, ‘I won’t like them.’

  But she leaves the locket on.

  ‘Thank you,’ I say.

  ‘I’m going to do some more drawings,’ says Zelda, picking up the pencil again. ‘I’m going to do
one now of when my mummy cooked me an egg.’

  I give her another smile, but suddenly I’m full of sadness.

  I know why. It’s nearly time for me to go.

  Zelda looks at me, concerned.

  ‘It’s all right,’ she says. ‘My mummy’s cooking you an egg too.’

  I think about how lucky I am to have Zelda, and that makes my sadness even stronger. But it’s not time to go just yet.

  While Zelda draws more pictures, I write a story. It’s a long story about the things the Nazis have done to my family and Dov’s family and all the other people they’ve hurt too.

  When I’ve finished, me and Zelda go out to the barn.

  Leopold’s kennel is covering the hole I dug in the barn floor. I drag it to one side.

  ‘What are you doing?’ says Zelda.

  I jump down into the hole and fold my story into a small square of paper and push it into the soft earth.

  ‘I’m hiding my story,’ I explain. ‘When the war’s over and the Nazis have been defeated, it will be evidence of what they did.’

  Zelda thinks about this.

  ‘Who’s going to make them defeated?’ she asks.

  ‘The English,’ I say.

  I tell Zelda what Genia told me one time. How the English have still got an army and one day they’re going to attack the Nazis.

  ‘You mean Richmal Crompton?’ says Zelda.

  ‘She’ll help,’ I say.

  Zelda kneels by the hole and hands me down some crumpled pieces of paper.

  ‘Hide my evidence too,’ she says. ‘So Richmal Crompton’s army will know that my mummy and daddy weren’t bad Nazis.’

  I look at the pieces of paper. They’re her drawings of her parents dancing and cooking her an egg and bathing her knee when she cut it.

  I fold the drawings and push them into the soil next to my story.

  Zelda helps me scramble out of the hole and we brush the dirt off my trousers. While we do, I tell her about Amon, the Hitler Youth boy. I tell her how she must ask for him if she ever gets into trouble with the Nazis.

  She stops brushing and looks at me.

  ‘What about you?’ she says. ‘Why don’t I ask for you?’

  I take a deep breath.

  ‘This is in case something happens to me and I’m not here,’ I say.

  Zelda puts her arms round my waist and hugs me tight.

  ‘Nothing’s going to happen to you,’ she says. ‘I’m not going to let it. Don’t you know anything?’

  Genia gets home and we all go to bed and I sleep the whole night with my arms round Zelda.

  Not the whole night.

  I wake up before dawn.

  Was that a noise outside? I listen carefully. I have a fleeting thought that it’s Dov creeping around out there in the farmyard, but it’s probably just part of a dream I was having.

  All I can hear is the wind.

  I know this is the time I should go.

  Genia and Zelda are both asleep. I should creep out now and leave them the note I’ve written telling them how much safer they’ll be without me and how I promise I’ll come back after the war and find them.

  But I can’t.

  I just want to stay here a little bit longer.

  I’ll go in a while, before they wake up.

  Then I opened my eyes again and Genia was gently shaking me.

  ‘Wilhelm, wake up.’

  I stare at her, confused. I fumble for my glasses and put them on. Genia’s up and dressed. I must have slept in. Zelda appears next to her, up and dressed too.

  ‘Mr Krol’s giving us a ride into town,’ says Zelda. ‘To get you a birthday present.’

  I’m even more confused.

  It’s November. My birthday isn’t until January.

  Genia and Zelda are both grinning at me. Genia holds my Wilhelm identity card close to my face and points to where it says Date Of Birth.

  29 November, 1931.

  ‘Today’s the twenty-ninth,’ says Genia. ‘You’re eleven today. Happy birthday, Wilhelm.’

  I try to sit up. Genia gently but firmly pushes me back down into bed.

  ‘You have to stay here,’ she says. ‘It’s a surprise. I’m not using my last three eggs on a present if it’s not going to be a surprise. Anyway, you need to rest and get better.’ She strokes the bruise on my head. ‘Promise me you won’t go out playing like yesterday.’

  ‘I promise,’ I say quietly.

  It’s true. Travelling to another part of Poland and finding a place to hide isn’t playing.

  ‘See you later, birthday boy,’ says Genia.

  I sit up and throw my arms round her.

  ‘Thank you,’ I say, struggling not to cry. ‘Thank you for looking after me and Zelda.’

  Genia gives me a long hug.

  ‘Thank you,’ she whispers. ‘I was turning into a miserable old turnip before you two came along.’

  She stands up and goes out.

  Zelda has gone out too.

  I panic.

  Before I can jump out of bed, Zelda runs back in, putting her coat on. She jumps up onto the bed, kisses me on the cheek, and jumps down again.

  She stops in the doorway and turns to me with a grin.

  ‘Happy birthday,’ she says.

  Then she’s gone.

  I don’t hang around.

  I have to keep busy.

  If I stop and get sad I won’t be able to do it.

  I get up and put all my clothes on. My trousers and coat and boots and both shirts and all my socks.

  I put the note on the kitchen table and write an extra bit thanking Genia and Zelda for the surprise birthday present whatever it is and asking them to keep it safe for me till I come back after the war.

  Halfway to the door I stop and go back to the table and find a clean piece of paper and write something else.

  The story of Zelda and Genia and their loving hearts.

  It’s the most important story I’ve ever written and it’s very easy to write because it’s already come true.

  I’m going to hide it in the barn with the other evidence. So the whole world will know. In case something happens and I don’t come back.

  I drag Leopold’s kennel off the hiding hole in the barn.

  And almost faint with shock.

  There’s a man in the hole.

  He’s lying there on some straw. He’s wearing a ragged suit and blinking up at me like he’s been asleep.

  He sits up and raises his arms like I’m going to attack him. But when he sees I’m just a kid he lowers them.

  ‘Who are you?’ he says.

  ‘Felix,’ I say. ‘I mean Wilhelm.’

  He looks at me for a long time.

  I wonder if I should be running. Is he going to grab me for the reward? I think if he was, he would have done it by now. Plus he wouldn’t have a kind face like this man.

  He’s nodding to himself.

  ‘Now I understand,’ he says.

  I wish I did.

  ‘I’m Gabriek,’ says the man, standing up in the hole. ‘Genia’s husband. I got here in the middle of the night. When I looked through the window and saw somebody in bed with my wife, I…’

  He doesn’t finish the sentence, but I know what he’s trying to say. In wartime, with people being killed every day, a lot of people end up in bed married to other people’s husbands and wives.

  ‘I decided to wait till morning,’ says Gabriek. ‘To find out who this person was and…’

  ‘It was me,’ I say. ‘And Zelda. Genia’s been protecting us.’

  Best to get it out in the open straight off. So we both know where we stand.

  Gabriek is nodding to himself again.

  ‘I’m not surprised,’ he says. ‘My wife has a very big heart.’

  I agree with him as he climbs out of the hole.

  ‘Is she awake?’ he says.

  I explain how Genia’s gone into town with Zelda.

  ‘I’m sorry she’s not here,’ I
say. ‘It’s sort of my fault. They’ve gone to get me a birthday present.’

  Gabriek is looking sad.

  But he still wishes me a happy birthday.

  Later, after I’ve explained everything to Gabriek and he’s read all the evidence in the hole and seen my note and examined Zelda’s pictures, he looks at me, concerned.

  ‘It’s nearly winter,’ he says, ‘Where are you planning to go? Back to the Catholic orphanage?’

  I shake my head.

  ‘If I go to there,’ I say, ‘I’ll be putting Mother Minka and the others in danger. I have to find somewhere I can hide on my own.’

  Gabriek frowns as he thinks about this.

  ‘I can’t tell you what you should do, Felix,’ he says. ‘If you want to stay here with us, I’ll do everything I can to protect you. But the final decision has to be yours.’

  ‘Thank you,’ I say.

  What a brave and kind man. I can see why Genia chose him to marry. But his kindness has put my mind in a whirl.

  I jump down into the hole and busily hide the evidence again, partly to give myself a chance to think.

  Could Gabriek still protect Zelda if the Nazis discovered my private part? He’d have Amon to help him, but would that be enough? Or would he and Genia and Zelda all be killed for sheltering me?

  I so much want to stay.

  But the more I think about it, the more I know, for their sakes, I have to go.

  Suddenly I see something glinting under the straw in the bottom of the hole. I pick it up.

  Zelda’s locket.

  Her good protection.

  She must have left it here last night as part of her evidence.

  She’s in town now, without it.

  Now I know I definitely have to go, and quickly.

  I must get it to her.

  Then I said goodbye to Gabriek and ran into town, Zelda’s locket hard and hot in my fist.

  Oh no.

  The town is already crowded.

  It’s market day. How will I find Zelda and Genia in among all these people?

  I can only think of one place to start looking.

  Cyryl’s shop.

  I push my way along the street, trying not to go too close to the groups of Nazi soldiers bullying the stallholders for bargains.

  ‘Hey, Jewboy.’

  I freeze.

  You know how when you’re in a crowd and there’s one person you don’t want to bump into and you suddenly hear his voice yelling at you and it feels like a bad dream?