The Things We Cannot Say(90)

I couldn’t even make sense of the scene before me at first. Under the glow of the moonlight, Saul sat slumped on the front step, Eva’s limp body cradled across his lap. I gasped as I recognized the unseeing face of baby Tikva, her tiny body tucked tightly between her parents’ torsos. Saul’s face was set in a mask of grief too deep to be understood—his jaw slack, his eyes wide—and now that I was closer, I could see that the only movement he made was the sporadic blink of his swollen eyelids and the rattling inhale then exhale of his chest.

“Saul,” Tomasz whispered. “What happened?”

Saul turned toward Tomasz’s voice, but his gaze was unfocused. He blinked again, and then he gave a shake of his head, then a convulsion racked his whole body and he pulled Eva and the baby higher against his neck as a series of sobs broke over him.

I stayed at the corner of the front of the house, unable to look away but far too afraid to move closer. Tomasz, however, sat right beside his friend and slid his arm over his shoulders.

“Saul,” Tomasz said again, and this time, his own voice broke. “I’m so sorry, my friend. I’m just so sorry.”

“The soldiers knew everything—they even knew about you and Nadia.” Saul sobbed, and I caught the full force of agony in his expression as he turned to face Tomasz. “Tomasz, they have taken everything from me now. There is nothing left for me to live for. Run for your life, but let me die. Please, let me die.”

Tomasz sat on the step with Saul for so long that my legs became numb, and I had to sink down to sit on the ground—although I stayed at the corner of the house. I couldn’t bring myself to go near to them—partly out of respect for Saul’s right to privacy as he grieved, and partly because I was sickened by the sight of the bodies and the heavy scent of blood in the air.

Every time I closed my eyes, I saw baby Tikva’s face in my mind. She had been sleeping when I held her, but now that I had seen her face set in death, I could no longer remember the innocence of that moment when she was safe within my arms. And the worst thing was that I knew, from having witnessed Aleksy’s and the mayor’s deaths, that this image was a part of me now. I would never be the same again having witnessed this moment in time.

After a while, Tomasz stood, and he approached me. His face and his beard were wet with tears, and as he embraced me, he was shaking.

“Alina,” he whispered. “I have to ask something of you. Can you wait with him?”

“Wait with him?” I whispered back, my gaze frantically flicking to the man and the bodies just a few feet away. “Where are you going?”

“He is covered in their blood,” Tomasz whispered. “He needs fresh clothes—I will have to go back to your house and get something for him to wear.”

“Can’t we all go? Can’t we take him with us?”

“We have to...” Tomasz broke off. His gaze dropped, then returned to mine. “We have to bury them first, my love. It is the very least they deserve.”

I squeezed my eyes closed for a minute, then suggested hopefully, “But Jan’s clothes will be inside...”

“Jan is entirely responsible for the death of Saul’s wife and baby, Alina. I can’t ask that of him.”

I wanted to say no, and the old Alina would have. But I was determined to be an adult now, and to make Tomasz proud of the woman I’d become. Still, it wasn’t easy to agree to remain alone with a man and two horrific bodies in a space where Nazis had clearly been in recent hours, particularly given the likelihood that they’d return. I gritted my teeth as I said, “Can we at least move him into shelter?”

“The inside of the house...it is...” Tomasz trailed off, then shook his head. “Don’t go in there, love. I saw it through the door. It’s a mess.” He brushed my hair back from my face, and he whispered, “I really don’t think they will come back here tonight. He still can’t tell me what happened, but either they purposefully left him alive or he somehow hid from them. And if they do come back, it will be in a vehicle, so you’ll see the lights or hear the engine long before they near the house—take him to the barn and hide. Okay?”

My breath caught, and I bit my lip hard and I forced myself to nod. My chest felt tight, as if the fear could choke the life right out of me too. Tomasz nodded toward Saul, encouraging me to go to the other man’s side, and I whimpered a little as I made myself step closer to the bodies. I told myself not to look at the baby again. I told myself I could sit with him and pretend it wasn’t there.

But I couldn’t look away, and it was Tikva I stared at as I walked. As I came closer, the stench of blood became overwhelming, and my stomach turned over again and again. I battled to clamp down the urge to retch, but I walked to Saul’s side, and I sat right beside him as Tomasz had done.

“Hello, Saul, it’s Alina,” I said, very gently. “Tomasz is going to get you fresh clothes. I’m going to stay with you. You are not alone. We are here for you.”

The man turned to me, and I could see him trying to focus his gaze.

“Thank you for your kindness, Alina,” he choked out. I nodded once, and as I went to look away again, he blurted, “I don’t know if they caught Jan or if he turned us in. But he must have told them everything—everything—where we were hiding, how we were surviving. They wanted us to give Tomasz up, they told Eva they’d let her go if she told them where to find him but she was far too smart for that, my beautiful, brilliant wife. But then they took Tikva from Eva’s arms—”