Cilka's Journey(30)

“I don’t want to find Boris. Why can’t we just be together? We don’t need them, Josie.” Cilka has tried to be understanding of Josie’s naiveté, her need to think of this as a real connection, but it disturbs her greatly.

“But I want to see Vadim. Are you coming or am I going on my own?” a petulant Josie says.

“I’m not interested,” Cilka says coldly.

“Well, if that’s the way you feel…” Josie stomps off. Cilka watches her go, before wandering away on her own.

Cilka struggles with this freedom—it is so new to her. She keeps looking at the perimeter with its guard towers, looking for guards who could mow them down with their weapons. This is how on edge they felt in that other place. She doesn’t know the rules here yet. She is one of the first to go back to what is, to her, the safety of Hut 29. She waits patiently until they all return, particularly Josie, whom she regrets leaving alone, before going to sleep, making sure they are all back. Then she ties on her blindfold. The women continue to murmur happily as they settle, this small freedom giving them a moment of contentment.



* * *



For eight weeks, the sun never leaves the sky. Cilka begins to relax and properly join in on the Sunday evening strolls around the camp. She, along with the other women in her hut, explores the environment. They keep their whole bodies covered, and wrap scarves around their faces, to ward off the mosquitoes. She struggles to convince Josie she doesn’t need to find Vadim and be with him, that he is not her future.

One evening, Hannah begins to walk beside Cilka, pulling her away from Josie with a firm grip just above her elbow. Up close, Cilka can smell the stale sweat in her clothes, the grease in her hair.

“What do you want?” Cilka asks.

“You know, in the war, people like me and Elena worked to resist every oppressing force—the Nazis, the Soviets…”

“I know. You’re a hero.”

“While some people just lay down and gave themselves over to them, even benefiting from this coupling while watching everyone around them die.” Her grip intensifies on Cilka’s arm. Cilka feels sick. Hannah keeps walking, forcing Cilka to keep putting one foot in front of the other.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Cilka says flatly.

“I’m not going to give away my source … but that’s a nasty little secret you’ve kept from us.”

Cilka swallows, feeling fear, rage. It must have been that woman from the train, who had also been in that other place.

“So, is it true what this woman was saying? She seemed desperate to tell someone. She didn’t seem long for this world.”

“I have nothing to say to you.”

Cilka spares a thought for the woman who, like her, had survived that other place only to end up here. And worse, who might never leave.

“So it is true. You’re just a common whore who gets what she wants by sleeping with the scum of mankind. Well, well, well.”

“You can’t hurt me, Hannah. Don’t even try,” Cilka says, looking her in the eye.

“I bet you don’t want your friends to know. Do you want me to keep your secret?”

“I want you to go fuck yourself. I couldn’t care less what you do or say.” Cilka is bluffing to make the secret less appealing to Hannah. But she knows Hannah must be able to feel her shaking, under the tight clench of her hand.

“I can keep it secret, for a price…”

“How often do men come into our hut and rape you, Hannah?”

Hannah doesn’t answer. Keeps her brows furrowed, breathing heavily.

“I didn’t hear you,” Cilka says, her voice raised. “One man, several men … how many different men have raped you since we’ve been here?”

“It’s just what happens here.”

“Yes, it’s just what happens here. It’s what happened there to me. I was kept hidden away so the officers would not be seen to be polluting themselves. Do you know what that is like? For you and your family and friends, your whole race, to be treated like animals for slaughter?”

Hannah looks away, keeps her face blank.

“And did this person who claims to know so much about me say why she was here?” Cilka asks.

“Yes, I got that out of her. The Russians said they didn’t like people who told on others without being asked, so sent her here too. It seems like you were all weak in the end, all turning on each other.”

“No one can judge us,” Cilka says through gritted teeth. “You can’t know what it was like. There were only two choices: one was to survive. The other was death.”

Hannah chuckles quietly. Cilka is seeing double with rage. She should be used to this by now—people creating hierarchies of good and bad, deciding where you fit in.

“But that’s not all there is, is it?” Hannah says.

Cilka looks at her.

“Would you really want me to tell the others—Josie, Natalya, Olga, Elena—about your role in the death block?”

Cilka tries not to let her expression falter.

“I thought so,” Hannah says. “I will tell you what I need, soon, and you will give it to me.” She walks away, across the patchy grass and dirt.

Cilka looks up at the women standing around in a circle, sharing a rare moment of leisure. Josie turns and smiles at Cilka. Cilka forces a smile back. She does not want to go back, in her mind, to that other place; she wants to take each day and get through it the best she can, with her new friends. She does not want Hannah to ruin this for her. Her gut churns.