The Tattooist of Auschwitz(12)

‘Your assistant. Do his number first.’

Lale takes the piece of paper from the young man and quickly tattoos his arm.

‘What’s your name?’ he asks.

‘Leon.’

‘Leon, I am Lale, the T?towierer,’ he says, his voice firm like Pepan’s. ‘Now, stand beside me and watch what I’m doing. Starting tomorrow, you will work for me as my assistant. It might just save your life.’

?

The sun has set by the time the last prisoner has been tattooed and shoved towards his new home. Lale’s guard, whose name, he found out, is Baretski, didn’t wander more than a few metres from him. He approaches Lale and his new assistant.

‘Take him to your block, then come back here.’

Lale hurries Leon to Block 7.

‘Wait outside the block in the morning and I’ll come and get you. If your kapo wants to know why you aren’t going with the others to build, tell him you now work for the T?towierer.’

?

When Lale returns to his workstation, his tools have been packed into an attaché bag and his table has been folded. Baretski stands waiting for him.

‘Bring these to your new room. Each morning, report to the administration building for supplies and to get instructions on where you will be working that day.’

‘Can I get an extra table and supplies for Leon?’

‘Who?’

‘My assistant.’

‘Just ask at administration for whatever you need.’

He leads Lale to an area of the camp that is still under construction. Many of the buildings are unfinished and the eerie quiet makes Lale shiver. One of these new blocks is complete, and Baretski shows Lale to a single room located immediately inside the door.

‘You will sleep here,’ Baretski says. Lale puts his bag of tools on the hard floor and takes in the small, isolated room. He misses his friends in Block 7 already.

Next, following Baretski, Lale learns that he will now take his meals in an area near the administration building. In his role as T?towierer, he will receive extra rations. They head to dinner, while Baretski explains, ‘We want our workers to have their strength.’ He motions for Lale to take a spot in the dinner queue. ‘Make the most of it.’

As Baretski walks away, a ladle of weak soup and a chunk of bread are handed to Lale. He gulps them both down and is about to walk away.

‘You may have more if you wish,’ says a plaintive voice.

Lale takes a second helping of bread, looking at the prisoners around him who eat in silence, sharing no pleasantries, only surreptitious glances. The feelings of mistrust and fear are obvious. Walking away, the bread shoved up his sleeve, he heads to his old home, Block 7. He nods to the kapo as he enters, who seems to have got the message that Lale is no longer his to command. Going inside, Lale acknowledges the greetings of many of the men he has shared a block with, shared his fears and dreams of another life with. When he arrives at his old bunk, Leon sits there with his feet dangling over the side. Lale looks at the young man’s face. His wide blue eyes have a gentleness and honesty that Lale finds endearing.

‘Come outside with me for a moment.’

Leon jumps from the bunk and follows him. All eyes are on the two of them. Walking around the side of the block, Lale pulls the chunk of stale bread from his sleeve and offers it to Leon, who devours it. Only when it’s finished does he thank him.

‘I knew you would have missed supper. I get extra rations now. I will try and share them with you and the others when I can. Now go back inside. Tell them I dragged you out here to tick you off. And keep your head down. I’ll see you in the morning.’

‘Don’t you want them to know you can get extra rations?’

‘No. Let me see how things play out. I can’t help them all at once and they don’t need an extra reason to fight among themselves.’

Lale watches Leon enter his old block with a mixture of feelings he finds hard to articulate. Should I be fearful now that I am privileged? Why do I feel sad about leaving my old position in the camp, even though it offered me no protection? He wanders into the shadows of the half-finished buildings. He is alone.

That night, Lale sleeps stretched out for the first time in months. No one to kick, no one to push him. He feels like a king in the luxury of his own bed. And just like a king, he must now be wary of people’s motives for befriending him or taking him into their confidence. Are they jealous? Do they want my job? Do I run the risk of being wrongly accused of something? He has seen the consequences of greed and mistrust here. Most people believe that if there are fewer men, there will be more food to go around. Food is currency. With it, you stay alive. You have the strength to do what is asked of you. You get to live another day. Without it, you weaken to the point you don’t care anymore. His new position adds to the complexity of surviving. He is sure that as he left his block and walked past the bunks of beaten men, he heard someone mutter the word ‘collaborator’.

?

The next morning Lale is waiting with Leon outside the administration building when Baretski arrives and compliments him on being early. Lale holds his attaché bag and his table rests on the ground beside him. Baretski tells Leon to stay where he is and Lale to follow him inside. Lale looks around the large reception area. He can see corridors running off in different directions with what look like offices adjoining. Behind the large reception desk are several rows of small desks with young girls all working diligently – filing, transcribing. Baretski introduces him to an SS officer – ‘Meet the T?towierer’ – and tells him again to get his supplies and instructions here each day. Lale asks for an extra table and tools, as he has an assistant waiting outside. The request is granted without comment. Lale breathes a sigh of relief. He has saved one man from hard labour, at least. He thinks of Pepan and silently thanks him. He takes the table and stuffs the extra supplies into his bag. As Lale turns away, the administration clerk calls out to him.