The Brothers of Auschwitz

by Malka Adler

  He said, don’t remember, a farmer took me, a fat farmer, he had a pipe in his mouth, bring me water. I brought him a glass of water. He drank and I felt empowered. Thought, maybe my brother also fainted from hunger and forgot his name.

  I ran to the hospital entrance and began to go from bed to bed, to bed.

  I glanced at the faces of sleeping patients. Lifted blankets, pillows. An American nurse said, your brother isn’t here, I know everyone. In the meantime I reached the end of the hall. Began to go through the second row of beds. Some of the patients had blood-soaked bandages, most were without bandages. They lay pale and thin and exhausted, didn’t open their eyes when I raised the sheet. Some lay on yellow stains in the middle of the bed, every second I wanted to vomit from the smell. Some dreamed up at the ceiling. Some cried soundlessly. One thought I was the Messiah, put out a hand and whispered, save me, save me. Dov wasn’t there.

  That night I couldn’t sleep.

  A faint light made a circle on the wall and I saw my brother thrown in a ditch, with his face in the mud. His body looked like a wet sack. I took a deep breath and shook off the picture on the ceiling. I heard the voices of miserable patients, they were calling for their families, they explained with tears, it’s not my fault, not my fault. I heard the steps of thieves among the beds and quick breaths. I paid no attention to the thieves. And Dov again. Lying on his back on a wet road, not far from a burned tank, eaten up by ants and worms. I sat up in bed and pressed a finger to my head, fool, fool, you left your brother at a crucial moment. What did you fight for if in the end you left him alone.

  A nurse with a watch hanging from her blouse pocket approached me, do you need something?

  I said, just my brother, she left. I didn’t know what to do. I got up. I went to the nearest window and leaned my head against the glass. There were a lot of dark dots, like a mosquito cemetery. Suddenly an avalanche of thoughts hit my foolish brain. Maybe my brother ate something and choked. Maybe he ran after the tank and fell under the chains and the SSmen’s dogs ate him? Wait, he saw me drinking coffee and choking, he ran away and peeped out from the barn, saw the farmer taking me in the cart, maybe he was frightened and died because he was left alone?

  I scraped off lime with my nails and screamed in my heart, not true, no, no. Dov is alive and he was collected with the healthy ones. I didn’t know the whereabouts of the healthy prisoners. I went back to bed and fell into a dream. I saw Dov sitting on a blanket. The blanket we held in the rain in the forest. The blanket began to travel like a boat in a river. Suddenly, it rose up in the water. I yelled to Dov, jump, jump, you’ll crash. Dov looked at me as if I was a stranger. The blanket was already at my height. I ran after him, trying and failing to hold onto the blanket. I shouted louder, jump, jump, and saw myself in the basement with the suitcases. The prisoner above me was shouting, jump, jump. I jumped and fell to the floor.

  I woke early in the morning on the floor. The pajamas were wet and I felt as if I had a scratch in my throat. That’s that, I’m about to catch a dangerous illness of my foolish brain.

  I checked half of my face with my fingers. And then the other half. My nose was in place. Eyes. I found my right ear, opened my mouth. Went over my teeth, one after another. I counted my fingers. There were five on each hand, ten altogether. Mmm, I’m fine and I can get up off the floor.

  I got dressed, washed my face and checked the beds to see if any patients had arrived during the night. From a distance, right at the opposite side of the hall, I saw stairs going down. I asked a nurse, where do those stairs go?

  She said, the basement.

  I asked, and what’s in the basement?

  She thought a moment, said, very difficult cases.

  How difficult? She didn’t say.

  I held onto the bars of the bed next to me, whispered, breathe, nu, breathe, and began to walk in the direction of the stairs. At the staircase I stopped. I leaned against the wall and counted stairs from the top to the bottom and back again. I put a hand in my pocket and looked for bread. I had no bread. I ran to my hiding place near the toilet and found bread that was two days old. I shoved it into my mouth and went down the stairs. Aha. A huge basement, dark and smelly, maybe a hundred meters long or more, full of beds and patients. Without windows, only rough concrete walls and small lights suspended on a string. Hugging myself I began to walk.

  I passed bed after bed after bed, like the hall upstairs, and soon understood why the nurse upstairs called them difficult cases. Lying there were people with swollen bellies and a head like a wheel, sometimes without a face, just a bald head. I approached them. Tried to discover if the body without the face was Dov’s. By the fingers I understood it wasn’t. One patient sat on the bed scratching the bandage on his nose. The bandage fell, there was just a hole. He threw the bandage on the floor and stuck his fingers into the hole. I wanted to vomit but stopped myself. Another patient sat on his bed telling himself a joke in Yiddish. He laughed Hahaha. Hahaha. And slapped himself. Began to cry. And then he told another joke. Hahaha. Hahaha. Hahaha. Another slap and a lot of crying. I stopped beside him, said, why are you hitting yourself, stop. He didn’t stop.

  I went on. There was mixture of the sharp smell of medication and the stink of feces and urine and, in my heart, I hoped I wouldn’t find my brother. I prayed he was healthy and happy and that we’d meet in another town.

  One of the patients looked at me. His lips fell inside his mouth, his nose almost touched his chin. I saw he was tied to the bed and I stopped nearby. He smiled without teeth and put out a thin hand, I said, you want to be free, uh? I pressed his hand. He howled in a thick voice, caught my hand and bit it hard. I felt the pain down to my ass. I tried to pull my hand away and couldn’t. His gums were like steel pliers. With my other hand I closed his nostrils, pressing hard. He opened his gums, leaving me a deep imprint on four fingers. I was sure the bone was broken. I shouted, are you mad, what’s wrong with you. He smiled and pointed at the ceiling. I looked up, a fat fly was stuck to the ceiling, and in an instant the fly flew from the ceiling, alighting on the face of a patient with an open mouth. The fly disappeared into his mouth.

  I walked along the other row. There were patients lying under the bed with their faces on the floor. I had to get under the bed and tap their backs. Some didn’t answer. I turned their heads and glanced at their faces. There were instances when I touched a patient and the body was cold. I didn’t give up on the dead. I turned them over for a second then put them back in place.

  I got almost to the end of the hall and there was Dov.

  Three beds before the end, I saw him. He lay on his back, looking at the ceiling. Jumping on him I hugged him hard. I cried, here you are, I’ve found you, oy I’ve been so worried, when did you get to the hospital?

  Dov didn’t move. He gave me a brief look then returned to the ceiling. I called, hey, what’s wrong with you, it’s me, your brother, have you forgotten? We were together, what’s wrong, nu, say something. He didn’t speak. I lifted the blanket. His body looked whole and healthy. He had a few dry sores on his legs and his hand, but that was all. I felt him, his bones were in place. He looked like someone sleeping with his eyes open. I raised his arm above the bed and let it fall. The arm fell. I raised a leg and it fell. I shut his eye, it remained shut. I held his chin and pulled down. His mouth remained open. I felt as if I was losing all the strength I’d gained in the hospital.

  I ran up to the top ward. Looked for a doctor. The German doctor came towards me, I yelled, Doctor, listen, I’ve found my brother downstairs, in the basement, where’s Doctor Spielman, quickly. The German doctor pointed at the office. I ran there. Doctor Spielman was talking to a nurse. I held onto his shirt and pulled him outside.

  Doctor Spielman said, what’s wrong? I shouted, I’ve found my brother, I found him in the basement, down there, downstairs. I pointed in the direction of the staircase and began to run there. Doctor Spielman hurried after me.

  Dov was in the very same p
osition. I put my hand on his shoulder, said slowly, this is my brother and he doesn’t know me. What’s wrong with him?

  Doctor Spielman folded his arms, said, now I see the similarity between you.

  I said, Doctor Spielman, tell me what illness he has, and why is he lying in the basement? Doctor Spielman sat on the edge of the bed, said, I know your brother and I don’t have an answer for you. To tell you the truth, we don’t really know what’s wrong with your brother.

  I felt I was about to collapse. Leaning against the wall, I said, what do you mean you don’t know, you’re a doctor, aren’t you? Maybe call the German doctor, he knows the camps, no, no, call the American doctor, in America they probably know difficult cases.

  Doctor Spielman sighed, it won’t help, we all know this case.

  I began to dance up and down. Cried, don’t know, well, then I’m taking my brother and getting out of here. Maybe they’ll help us somewhere else, tell us what illness this is.

  Doctor Spielman raised his voice, absolutely not, he must be in a hospital, I’m sorry.

  I jumped on my brother. Shouted, the war is over, do you understand or not, wake up, nu, wake up. My brother looked at me and returned to the ceiling.

  Doctor Spielman stroked my hand and pulled me into the aisle. He said quietly, we’ll give your brother time, it won’t help to shout at him. He doesn’t understand you and you need patience, a lot of patience, do you have it?

  I fell on my brother’s bed and hugged his legs. I couldn’t stop my tears. For hours I wept for myself and Dov. Nurses and doctors came and went. Doctor Spielman came and went between the floors. I saw him circling around me. Saw him signaling to the nurses not to approach. After a few hours my brother sat up in bed and took my hand. He examined my palm and turned it up, down, up, down. I saw him focusing on the veins. Cautiously, I sat next to him. Whispered, what do you want, are you trying to tell me something? Didn’t answer. Just turned my hand. I tried to stop him and failed.

  I felt I wanted to vomit. I pressed my mouth hard and got up from the bed. Dizzy, I fell to the floor. A nurse in an apron immediately came to me. She helped me up and took me upstairs.

  Doctor Spielman was waiting at the top of the stairs. He said, you must rest in bed, understand? Leave your brother and go and rest, yes?

  I said, it’s because of the smell of the medication, if they’d change the smell I could stay with him, he looks healthy, what’s wrong with him?

  Doctor Spielman threw back his head, I have no explanation, I wish I did.

  The patient in the bed next to me woke up. A patient I hadn’t seen before. He was a small man without any flesh. He had a large scarf round his arm, it was attached to his neck. He leaned over to me, my name is Isaac, pleased to meet you. What happened to you and why were you crying?

  I told him about my brother.

  Isaac said, I know the problem, I met prisoners in the camps who didn’t know the names their mother and father had given them. Gevalt Am Israel, gevalt, gevalt – Oh people of Israel, woe is me. And then he put his hand under the pillow, took out a piece of chocolate, take it, take it, they only give chocolate to difficult cases, take it from me. I took it.

  A nurse with lipstick went by with trays of food. I watched her. I saw her going downstairs to the basement. I jumped down from the bed and ran after her. She left the trays on a table in the corner, took one tray and approached Dov. He was in his normal position. The nurse put the tray on his bed, one hand holding the tray, the other thrusting a towel in his pajama jacket and saying in German, good appetite. Dov lifted a thin hand and turned the tray of food upside down on the sheet. Hot soup spilled like yellow urine from the sheet onto the floor. I couldn’t believe my brother was throwing away food. The nurse was angry, that’s the third time it’s happened, we’ll have to think of another way to feed your brother.

  I bent over my brother. I saw a piece of dry bread under his pillow. I couldn’t believe it. Dov had hidden dry bread under the pillow and poured hot food onto the bed.

  I began talking to him, maybe he’d hear.

  I said, you’ll get better and the two of us will leave here and go to our village, would you like that?

  No, no, I’m not going back to the village, what’s in a village full of goyim for us, we’ll go somewhere else. We’ll go to Palestine, yes, Palestine. You wanted to go to Palestine, a place for Jews. It’s best for us to be among Jews, yes. We’ll start our lives over in Palestine, what do you say? We’ll find ourselves some land, build a cowshed, we’ll be farmers like father. Don’t know where father is, don’t know if he survived, but we’ll go to Palestine together.

  My brother caught my hand and began to turn it, up, down, up, down. My hand again, huh, what do you want, nu, talk to me, but he didn’t speak.

  I got mad and started shouting at him, I don’t have the energy for this, and you aren’t going to die on me now, you hear me?

  I kicked the bed, almost breaking my foot. I pressed my hands on my brother’s face, shouting, I feel like slapping your face, wake up.

  I could no longer bear the smell in the basement. I left. I went up to the floor of patients who had a chance to live. There was the silence of the dead there. I felt as if I was alone in the world and held my head. A machine gun started firing in my mind. Ra-ta-ta-ta-ta-tat-tat. And again a dangerous silence. My neighbor Isaac called from a distance, come to me, boy, come, I’ve got some chocolate for you. I ran to him.

  Israel, 2001

  14:00 Nahariya train platform.

  The platform is empty, yellow with dust and leaves falling from the eucalyptus. Linked, empty carriages stand under tight electric lines. The crow threatens from above, kraa kraa kraa. A large and impertinent crow. I open the Israel Railway time schedule, and find the 14:18 from Nahariya to Beit Yehoshua written in red. No mistake. Nonetheless, I’m alone on the yellow platform with the kraa kraa of the crow above.

  If Yitzhak had been beside me, he’d have said, so nerve-wracking this quiet, maybe you didn’t see it but a cattle train just went by, taking everyone far away? Nonsense, nonsense. If Dov had been beside me, he’d have said, actually it suits me to be alone on the platform, I don’t like being harassed, and be glad you’re first on the platform, maybe you’ll get an empty carriage, what’s wrong with that. I’d say, I wish, I wish.

  Black clouds are gathering above, in the meantime, the crow had flown off. My eyes are dry and itchy. I blink to moisten them. Pray, let there be rain.

  A man with a beard falling to his chest, a black coat and a nylon-covered hat enters the station with a crying baby tucked under his arm. Dragging behind him is a woman in a velvet hat with a large, fabric flower. She has a huge belly, maybe her ninth month, and her navel is sticking out of the purple jersey falling to her knees. She is pushing a pram with a duck tied on a string, and two little ones, a three-year-old and one perhaps a year older, hold onto to her jersey. The little ones are wearing wide dresses with buttons from neck to waist and a three-quarter coat. One is licking a crusty line of mucus and the other is sucking her thumb.

  The baby is kicking its legs out to his mother but father refuses. Mother says, Menachem, nu, bring me de kind – bring me the baby, but the father insists on keeping it. At the ticket counter, the baby already screaming and struggling, and she says in a nasal voice, soon, Shloimeleh, soon. She approaches heavily and holds out her arms to her baby, father pays the cashier. She hugs the baby, holding it to her breast oy, oy, oy, Shloimaleh, shhh shhh. The little ones stick to her, they also want a piece of Mama, with one hand she rocks the baby, with the other hand, she holds their heads.

  I’d also like a breast to hide my face against, weep the story of Dov and Yitzhak that sticks to my skin like wet clay. Want to peel off the sore, toss off the mud, all before a black scab grows over the mud. If Dov was beside me, he’d say, how good it is that there’s a mother who wants to hug her child, it could have helped me in the hospital, and then Yitzhak would make a long fffrrr sound with his
lips and say, Dov, you didn’t want to come back to us, understand?

  Chapter 26

  Dov

  I lay on the bed as if I was in a glass bottle, couldn’t remember a thing except veins.

  People approached me and I wanted to examine their hands. In my mind, a palm with downward veins was a sign of Jews and a palm with upward veins was a sign of Christians.

  And then came the man who spent the most time with me. I saw he had hair on his head. I touched my head, I also had hair, like stubble. In the meantime my bed began to roll through the room. I wanted to say, give me your hand, hold it, I’m falling into the water; but the words remained in my mind. I was tired, I wanted to sleep. I wasn’t sure if I could sleep, or if I had to get out of bed. And then I saw that the man was leaving me, and I realized that I could lie in bed as much as I wanted to and that was a sign the war was over.

  When I was alone, I saw veins hanging from the ceiling, sometimes the veins were with worms, sometimes without worms. When there were worms I raised my hand to the ceiling to catch a handful of worms so they wouldn’t touch me, wouldn’t return to my head after I’d barely managed to get rid of them.

  I managed to catch a handful of worms and throw them at the ceiling and then other worms came. I wanted to shout, bastards, I’ve got no room in my head. There were times I saw parts of legs, or a foot without toes. Sometimes I only saw toes without a foot. I didn’t know if the toes were mine. I wanted to move them, tried hard, the toes stayed in place, so I understood that the toes weren’t mine.

  One day I saw a knee on the sheet and another inch and a half below the knee. I wanted to put out my hand to examine the place. I ordered my hand to go down, the hand went down and held the knee and then the leg began to grow by itself. It lengthened, grew fatter and took up all the room in the bed, got right up to the bars. At that moment ants came to the knee, going in and out of the flesh, I hit the leg on the mattress, the ants disappeared, taking the leg with them.