The Things We Cannot Say(54)

“I’m still here, my love,” I whispered. “Keep talking to me.”

“But he should have hated me, only he refused to debase himself with hatred. We had a shared history—a friendship—and even in those circumstances he extended warmth to me. Saul Weiss had lost everything because of people like me; people who didn’t have the courage to take a stand, and still? He chose to smile. That was the day that I broke inside and I knew I couldn’t take it anymore.”

“How did you get out of Warsaw?”

“The sewers,” he said, then he pressed his forehead against mine and paused for a moment, collecting himself. “We waded through the sewer. Me, Saul and his wife, Eva.”

“You let them escape with you?”

“No,” he laughed bitterly, then sadness crept over him. “You still think I am the hero of this story, Alina, but I am trying to tell you that I’m the villain. They let me escape with them. I went back to apologize to Saul. I dragged him into an empty shop front because I had to play the part, but once we were alone—it was me who wept, and a few days later when it was time to go, he trusted me enough to invite me to come with them. They had used the last of their money to pay a guide to lead them through the sewers. Honestly, I thought it was a suicide mission—that’s actually why I agreed to go. I had no thoughts of what I’d do if we made it, because it didn’t even seem a possibility, and death seemed far better than staying there in that uniform and dying of the rot inside. No one was more surprised than me when we climbed into daylight in the outskirts of Warsaw. Saul and Eva had no plan from there, so we started on foot—we lived under bridges and in barns for months on the way back here.”

“But...how? Did you come the whole way on foot? It is hundreds of miles, Tomasz. It’s...”

“Close to impossible, right?” he said sadly. “You see my point, then. We had so many close calls I kept thinking that anytime soon it would all be over...but luck or God or fate was on our side, because we eventually encountered a sympathetic farmer who connected us to the Zegota network—it is an underground council to help the Jews, supported by the government in exile. We would never have been able to cross over from the General Government area without their help.”

We fell into a bruised silence for a while. Eventually, I shifted onto the ground beside him, and wrapped my arms around his waist, then rested my head against his chest. I let my mind conjure images of all that he’d told me—even the parts that I didn’t want to imagine, because they were a part of Tomasz now, and I wanted to know and understand all of him.

After a while, he cleared his throat.

“You need to understand, Alina. Saul and Eva saved my life, and I have made it my mission to help them. They are hidden nearby and until I can repay them, I will do whatever I can to help them hide.”

“You steal food for them?”

“Yes, if I can find it. I capture birds sometimes, sometimes squirrels. I steal from farmers when I can—only because I know the Nazis take it all anyway so I’m really stealing from them. I’ve taken eggs from your own hen yard, but only because you have so many chickens I thought they wouldn’t be missed...only when I was truly desperate.”

I felt like I had to say the words aloud—just to put a name to it all. It took me another few minutes to find the courage to say the words, and even then, I whispered them.

“You are aiding Jews in hiding. Yes?”

“I have three groups of friends in hiding in the miles around your farm, including Saul and Eva. Many others are hidden in houses in the township and from time to time I help them too—but others working with Zegota usually bring them food. Sneaking round in the town is incredibly dangerous.”

“Everything you have just said is incredibly dangerous!” I exclaimed, drawing away from him. “Don’t you understand? The Nazis have made a decree that if you assist a Jewish person with so much as a glass of water, they will kill you and your whole family! How could you not even tell me about this? I am your family, Tomasz—but so is Emilia. You could have just gone into hiding alone without them and that would have been so much less dangerous—”

“Saul and Eva have a newborn,” Tomasz interrupted me, his expression suddenly hard. I blinked at him.

“A baby?”

“Yes. Eva gave birth a few weeks ago, just after we arrived back here. Tikva can’t eat anything but her mother’s milk, and Eva can’t make milk unless I bring her food. Am I to let the newborn starve, Alina?” He held my gaze, the bite of sheer frustration shortening his words. “Saul is a good man, a far better man than me. But he’s Jewish, so the invaders would have him starve like an animal, or worse, lock him up in a camp and work him to death. And that baby is the most beautiful little doll you have ever seen. Oh, but she was born to Jewish parents, so I suppose she deserves to die too? Would you pull the trigger at her temple, then?”

“Don’t say these things,” I protested fiercely. I was crying, overwhelmed and scared, but Tomasz was undeterred by my tears.

“But that is what you are saying when you tell me I should have left them behind.” A crippling sadness crossed his face, and his gaze pleaded with me for understanding. “This is why I wasn’t going to let you know I was here. I was going to stay in hiding and find ways to help you, but I was never going to show my face to you. I know that would have been cruel, but it would have been safer for you. I would choose our love over anything else—but I won’t choose you over what is right, not this time. I wouldn’t be the man you deserve if I didn’t help these people.” He stopped abruptly, and ran his hand through his hair, frustration etched on his face. “Monsters shouldn’t feel a great love like we have, should they? I have to prove that I’m not a monster. Please don’t ask me to stop. Please.”