Cilka's Journey(22)

“Can you tell me what happened?”

Josie forces her head down, Yelena releasing her hold.

“It’s her fault,” Josie spits. “She made me do it, made me go along with it. She calls herself my friend and she did nothing to help me, just let them…”

“Men visited our hut last night,” Cilka whispers.

“Oh, I see.” Yelena sighs. “Do you have any other injuries, Josie?”

Josie shakes her head.

“And what about you, Cilka?”

“No.”

“Of course she doesn’t, she just let him have her, didn’t fight, didn’t say no.”

The doctor stands. “Stay here. I’m going to try to find a room I can take you both to, I want to examine you further.”

Cilka and Josie wait in silence. Cilka wonders about the doctor. Are people assigned this work in the camps? Or do they choose it? She can’t imagine anyone wanting to be here. Yelena returns and ushers them into a nearby room. The occupant being taken out is arguing that he should be in a room by himself; he is a senior officer, not to be treated like a prisoner.

The bed in the room has the crumpled sheet and blanket of the former occupant, and the smell of an unwashed male, stale alcohol and cigarettes. Yelena has the two girls sit side by side on the bed.

“This is a brutal place…” says the doctor.

“I know,” Cilka whispers. She turns to Josie. “Josie, I’m sorry, I should have warned you, told you what to expect, helped you understand—”

“You just lay there. You … looked at me. Cilka, how could you?”

Cilka is still not able to access any feeling but she notices, distantly, she has started shaking, her knees knocking up and down on the bed. She clutches her hands beneath them.

“I’m sure she didn’t have a choice,” Yelena answers.

“She could have tried; a friend would have tried.” Josie’s voice lowers and trails away.

There are always other things people think she should have done. But it is hardest hearing this from someone she has been trying to let in, become close to. “I just hoped it wouldn’t happen,” Cilka says. “I knew it would, but I didn’t know when, and I just hoped it wouldn’t.”

She is truly sorry, but she also doesn’t know what else she should have done, could have done.

The doctor seems to feel the tension. “For now, I want to examine Josie, change her dressing, then I need to get you set up for work here, Cilka.”

Cilka slides off the bed. “Shall I wait outside?”

Yelena looks at Josie.

“You can stay,” she answers, the chill still in her voice.

Cilka looks away, holding one hand in another, trying to quell the shaking, as Josie is examined.


Bardejov, Czechoslovakia, 1940

Cilka and her sister, Magda, walk down a street in their hometown of Bardejov, on a fragrant spring day. Magda smiles at two boys walking toward them. She is two years older than Cilka and Cilka admires the way she walks, her elegant wrists with her watch glinting in the sunlight, her hips gently swinging.

“They both like you,” Cilka says. “Which one do you like the best?”

“They’re just boys,” Magda says.

The boys position themselves in front of Cilka and Magda, forcing the girls to either stop or walk around them. Magda stops and Cilka follows suit.

“Hello, Lazlo, Jardin,” Magda says.

“So, who’s this pretty little thing with you?” Lazlo says, his eyes wandering up and down Cilka.

“She’s my sister, my younger sister. Take your eyes off her,” Magda snaps.

“No boy or man is going to want to take his eyes off her,” Lazlo sneers.

Cilka’s stomach lurches in a confusing way. She looks down at the ground.

“Come on, Cilka, let’s go.” Magda grabs Cilka’s hand and pulls her away.

“Hey, Cilka, lose your sister and come and find me,” Lazlo calls out.

Magda squeezes Cilka’s arm.

“Ow! Stop it, let me go. What’s your problem?” Cilka says, shaking her arm free.

“You’re only fourteen, Cilka,” Magda snaps back at her.

“I know how old I am,” she says defiantly. “He’s quite good-looking. How well do you know him?”

Magda stops, puts her face close to Cilka’s.

“Don’t be stupid, Cilka. You’re just a child. He’s a … well, he’s not a man but he’s not a boy either. You have to be careful.”

Cilka brings her arms across her chest. “So, I’m never allowed to talk to a boy, is that what you’re saying?”

“No, that’s not what I’m saying. One day you’ll grow up, then you’ll know…”

“Know what? What do you know about boys? I’ve never seen you alone with a boy.”

Magda looks away, a dark cloud on her beautiful face. Cilka has never seen her look this way, shadows behind her eyes.

“Magda, are you all right?”

“Come on, let’s get the shopping done and get home before curfew.”

“No, why can’t we stay out? I don’t want to obey such a stupid rule. We haven’t done anything wrong.”