Mira smashed into the door almost throwing Saul over. He pushed backwards fast and hard, his body screaming in protest, walloping the door back in place and bellowing in pain as his open wound impacted on the door. He slid to the floor leaving a bloody trail behind him. Saul wanted to sleep now more than anything else in the world. An irresistible urge to close his eyes and rest overtook him and his head dropped as he succumbed to the urge.
Mira felt the gas catch her breath and made fraught attempts to force the door but she had lost the momentum of the initial slam and each subsequent hit failed to match the power of the one before it.
Why won’t they let me sleep?
Someone was shaking him and Saul woke from his mini shock induced sleep to remember that Mira was on the other side of the door attempting to barge her way out of the kitchen. Saul fumbled for the dead bolt at the bottom of the door and slid it home, hoping it was enough to contain her. He heard the familiar screams as suffocation led to blind panic. He felt the thuds on the door weaken and stop. And then he felt no more.
#
From inside the freezer Hannah had heard Mira’s death. At least, she hoped Mira was dead. The fact that she had not yet returned to kill them was a good sign. But Saul had not come back either…
She stopped thinking about that and tried to come to terms with the situation. She wondered how long they would have to wait in here before it was safe to leave. Would it be better to freeze to death or be gassed? She thought if they held their breaths they could make it, but then thought better of it: couldn’t gas enter through the skin too?
Aisha had not said a word since they had entered the freezer and it was clear that the girl was in shock. As they shivered Hannah tried her best to sooth the petrified child, rubbing her cold body while she talked.
‘We have to stay warm. It will be okay; we can leave when we want to, see?’ She pointed to the emergency door release lever but the girl did not follow her. ‘But we need to stay in here a bit longer I think. The police will come. Someone must have heard all that noise and called them. Then we can go home.’ Looking at all the food, she kept going, talking just to talk and trying to bring Aisha back into the world. ‘Want some cheesecake? We picked the best place to lock ourselves in didn’t we?’
CHAPTER 37
The breeze that brought him round. The front door of the shop was open. The next thing he heard was the sound he knew so well: boots on concrete.
There was a shuffle as the footsteps stopped. He could smell the warm vodka breath on his face. He was too tired to open his eyes and he hoped if he pretended well enough he would be left alone. He just wanted to sleep.
‘149222 what are you doing?’
Saul forced open his heavy lids and saw the young Manfred Fuchs before him. They were almost eye to eye, Fuchs in his neat uniform.
‘I’m tired Sergeant.’
‘Open the door. It’s done.’
‘I hate you.’
‘And I you,’ said Fuchs with a wry smile. ‘Now, shall I get the dogs?’
‘No.’
‘You’re just a lazy Jew. Your work hasn’t even started yet and you want to rest. Open the door.’
Saul shifted his weight. It seemed to take all his effort to move just one centimetre. He found the dead bolt and lifted it. Reaching up he managed to grab the door handle and pull it down shifting himself so he could pull the door open as much as he could. The pent up gas escaped and Saul fell, landing alongside Mira’s body.
But this was not Mira. It was Hannah and she was beautiful. His eyes welled up at the thought of his luck in marrying such a woman. For the first time since 1942 Saul cried. The draft picked up the letter and it fluttered and danced in the kitchen. Saul was ready to return to nature.
#
-Saul puts a hand to his eye and removes a piece of grit that’s making them water.
Saul stands at one end of the dormitory, well hidden by columns of wooden bunks. To his left and right stand Mark and Isaac. They stare at a letter as Saul reads aloud in English; having chosen the language in the hope that if the Germans lose the war, English will become the language of Europe.
Happy with the note the three men sign the letter, laughing when it’s Saul’s turn to sign.
The letter is placed into a small metal tin. Isaac digs into his pockets and places some teeth on top of the letter. Saul closes the lid firmly and slips the tin into his trouser pocket. The three men leave the dormitory and head to the compound.
Making sure the coast is clear they give Saul a nod and he kneels on the ground digging a hole with his hands. When he considers the hole to be deep enough he drops the tin into it, covering it with the removed earth and stamping it smooth with his boot, ready to be found by Mira many years later:
‘Dear reader, if you have found this note, I would encourage you to keep digging. You will not have to dig deep so you need not fret over the work to come. Around here you will find the remains of thousands of Jews. I wonder if you even know what Jews are or have we become a myth?
We have tried to document in detail the work that we have been forced to carry out in the hope that one day the perpetrators of the crime will be brought to justice.
We have also supplied as much evidence as we can. Keep digging and you will find the teeth, as well as the bone fragments of thousands of murdered men women and children.
We rely on you to ensure that justice is served and our people not forgotten; as we will surly perish with them when our work is complete. If you know how, please say Kaddish for us.
Mark Ramek, Isaac Blum and The Professor.
CHAPTER 38
As far as Saul was concerned there was no greater celebration of life than a birthday and children’s birthdays were the best. There was none of the depression that always came with the parties of adults whose birthdays always came too soon. For the kids it was never fast enough or long enough and there was always room for more.
Sara was ten and had been planning her ‘double figures’ party for weeks. She had hand written the invitations to eleven of her friends (the rule was you could invite your age plus one), bought decorations and planned the games. She had asked Saul to make her favourite cake (coffee) and of course he had obliged and made a few more.
At present the living room looked like it had been hit by a tornado. Wrapping paper, plastic cups, plates and balloons were strewn over the room. Presents had been unceremoniously bundled into a corner, for they would be examined in closer detail tomorrow. The not too hushed breeze of children high on sugar whirled around the room as Saul tried his best to catch at least one of them. Saul had protested (not too hard) that they were too old for Blind Man’s Bluff but Sara had insisted.
Saul groped and made wild swings and Hannah warned him when he was about to hit a wall or trip on something. The children giggled and squealed if he got too close but try as he might he could not get a grip on one of them. He felt a smack on his bum.
‘That’s not fair!’ he shouted and the room filled with laughter.
‘Okay, you win. I give up’. Saul removed the blind fold. ‘I need a beer.’
Hannah handed him a bottle and Saul sat on the arm rest of the sofa.
‘Your turn,’ he said to Hannah.
‘Don’t look at me. I have to get more drinks.’
Sara approached with a black portable radio in her hands.
‘Can you put the batteries in, Papa?’
‘Sure,’ he said with a smile.
Saul turned it over, opened the cover and slid in the four AA batteries that Sara had in her other hand. He turned it on and Sara was so overjoyed by the music she did something she never did anymore: She kissed him on the cheek.
‘Papa, it’s fantastic. Can I sleep with it?’
‘As long as it’s not too loud.’ She ran away to show her friends.
Saul had shown reaction at all today. He had sat catatonic while Hannah, Aisha and Sara had told him about th
eir week. He had made no reaction to his birthday cake and no reaction when Aisha had kissed him goodbye.
Aisha had asked them if Saul would eat the cake and Hannah and Sara exchanged a look. Hannah told her he would and as they left the ward she hung back to tell the nurses that they should share the cake among themselves. On the way out she glanced back at Saul, who was still looking at his birthday cake.
With the kiss still warm on his cheek Saul looked down at the untouched cake on the coffee table. Perhaps he had made too many but he just loved birthday parties. He was indeed a lucky man.
About the Author
Filmmaker and writer O’neil Sharma loves nothing more than telling stories and getting inside the puzzle that is the mind of his creations and the situations they find themselves in. Born in London, O’neil began his career as an investment banker but as a decent person he soon decided to change tack and head to film school. He currently lives in Berlin where he writes, works on movies, bakes and occasionally looks after cats.
The White House Page 21
