The Things We Cannot Say(81)

“If that is what she’s looking for, that’s surely impossible.”

“Unless by some miracle one of the people on her list is alive and we can find them and they happen to know—we’d never be able to find out something so specific.”

“I know it’s crazy to come here with such little info but...even mute, she can be very persuasive.”

“Is there anything else?”

“A few times she’s said Babcia fire Tomasz—I just have no idea what that’s supposed to mean.”

“Well, in this letter he does talk about their love being the fire that is the driving force in his life, words to that effect anyway. Perhaps she is talking about passion?” Zofia suggests.

“I didn’t think of that. There’s a symbol on her device for love but maybe she couldn’t find it?” I say, thinking aloud. “Surely that must be it.”

“One mystery solved already.” Zofia smiles. “Let’s eat, then we’ll head into Trzebinia and see what we can find, no?”

The waitress approaches with two plates of food. She sets fresh bread and a bowl of smalec in front of Zofia, then slides my eggs and bacon in front of me. Zofia cuts a square of the bread, then spreads a spoonful of the lard onto it and hands it to me.

“Oh,” I say, and I clear my throat. “I’m really not sure...”

Zofia’s eyes crinkle a little when she smiles.

“It’s a delicacy, I promise.”

I pop the entire chunk of bread into my mouth, and as I chew, I give her a surprised look. The smalec is salty and tasty, and the texture is not nearly as sickly as I’d expected. The whole effect between the delicate smalec and the heavy bread grows on me as I chew, until I could very easily imagine myself eating a whole plate of this stuff.

“Well?” Zofia asks, laughing again. “Another day we return for breakfast here and smalec?”

I laugh softly and nod.

“Okay, you’ve convinced me. Smalec next time.”



CHAPTER 29

Alina


As the clock struck 6:00 p.m. on our third night in the cellar, Tomasz was starting to talk about heading out to collect some of the fresh eggs so they didn’t go to waste, and I was trying just as hard to convince him to stay in our little bubble just for one more night. We heard the door upstairs open, and a voice called out quietly, “Tomasz?” and just like that, Henry Adamcwiz had found us.

Tomasz helped him into the cellar, then resealed the hatch, and for the first time in two days, we turned on the little oil light. It gave our little love nest a romantic yellow glow, and I could once again see Tomasz. Our eyes met—and in that gaze, we silently spoke of all of the secrets we’d shared in the darkness. We’d spent two glorious days alone comforting each other and resting together, and I was more than a little sad that those wonderful hours had come to an end.

Henry was far shorter than Tomasz, and much older than I’d expected. His Polish was fluent but heavily accented, and it took me a few minutes of fierce concentration listening to him speak before I could easily understand him.

“It is so lovely to meet you at last, Alina,” he said, and he shook my hand. “Truly, Tomasz speaks so highly of you. I knew you must be a special girl when he decided to stay just for you.”

“Thank you,” I said, flushing.

“Well, maybe that, and he was a little suicidal,” Henry said with a laugh.

I frowned, but there was no time to fixate on the comment, because Tomasz prompted, “Give us some good news, Henry. You are here, so I am assuming you have some?”

“We think the route we used with our last courier is still going to work, with some adjustment. The Eastern Front has moved significantly in the time since the last boy went through, so it’s going to be a longer journey, but we hope to get you out of Poland in much the same way.”

“Good,” Tomasz nodded. He sat forward, rubbed his hands together, then sat back—as if the excitement was too great for him to sit still. Our gazes met again, and Tomasz flashed me a broad smile. In that moment, I felt the details were irrelevant—Tomasz looked as delighted as if we were already free and safe, so just for a second that’s how I felt, despite the reality of our circumstances.

“Before you get too excited, let me tell you what I’m proposing. Jakub has built a large wooden carton. From the outside, it looks like many cartons stacked atop one another. Inside, there is room for two, although he says it will be tight and uncomfortable and likely little room for bags—perhaps one small suitcase for food and water. You will be in the deepest part of the truck, so you will have to make the entire journey without a break from the space inside the carton. It will take at least a day—longer if he has to stop for sleep, which he is hoping to avoid but...”

Tomasz and I shared a glance. His broad grin had faded now. He was assessing me—ensuring I understood what this meant. No bathroom breaks. No privacy. No daylight. It would be every bit as bad as our current situation in this cellar, where I’d been humiliated to have to use the chamber pot in front of him—but worse still, because at least in the cellar, I could stand and stretch and even pace if the anxiety became too intense.

Could I do it? The very thought made me feel ill, and even despite the glow of the lamp, the cellar walls were suddenly closing in on me. But I had to be realistic—and I had no choice but to be brave. I raised my chin and looked right at Henry.