The Things We Cannot Say(91)



“You don’t have to tell me,” I whispered hastily, but he didn’t seem to hear me.

“—and they put her on the ground and they shot her in the chest because they thought then we’d talk—but didn’t they realize? Once they shot her, we had nothing left to survive for anyway. And then my wife...”

It occurred to me then that he wasn’t speaking for my benefit at all. This was a repeat of those moments with Emilia each Sunday, on my own front steps. Just like little Emilia, Saul just needed to tell someone what had happened to his family, and I happened to be the only bystander now that he was ready to talk.

“Eva was hysterical, and the soldier who was holding her—he threw her against the wall and she went quiet and I could see her skull was... I tried but...it was...no... So I was hoping I’d be next and we could travel together to the afterlife but I didn’t flinch or try to fight to get away once the others were gone. The sergeant was so angry that I didn’t struggle...he said to leave me. He said it was a worse punishment to let me alone to die slowly.” Saul’s voice broke again. “I begged them to shoot me. I want to be with my family.” I didn’t know what to say to that, and all I could think was to do as Tomasz had done, and to slide my arm over Saul’s thin shoulders. He slumped forward again, utterly broken as he whispered, “How God must hate me...to leave me to suffer like this? Surely...”

“Don’t you say that,” I said fiercely, and Saul startled, as if he’d only just noticed I was there. I was sorry to speak so harshly to him—but I knew all too well that the only way we’d survive the darkness was to hold on to a vestige of hope. There was nothing else I could do for Saul, except to keep my arm on his shoulder, and point him back to what he still had—and all that he had was his faith. “You must believe that if God allowed you to survive this far—there is a purpose to it. You must believe that there is work left for you to do on this Earth before you are released to peace. Hold tight to what you have left, Saul Weiss. And if all you have left is your faith, then you cling to it with every shred of strength you have left—do you hear me?”

He blinked at me. For a minute, I thought I’d gone too far, and I was shaken by an intense regret. Who was I to speak so harshly to this Jewish man about his faith—in the very moment when he nursed the cooling bodies of his entire family? Saul’s shuddering breaths were coming harder and faster, but then he nodded sharply, and he turned his head toward the fields and he closed his eyes.

The string of words that burst from his lips was a language I didn’t know, but our traditions were irrelevant in that moment—the depths of his loss transcended every one of our differences. We weren’t Jew and Catholic, we weren’t even man and woman—we were simply two human beings, grieving an inhuman act.

I squeezed my eyes tightly closed so I didn’t accidentally look down at the face of the baby beside me, and I bowed my head while Saul and I prayed together.

Tomasz was very quiet when he returned, carrying two full pails of supplies, and with a set of clothing for Saul over his shoulders. He emptied the supplies onto the ground, then filled the pails at the well nearby. While I sat some distance away to give them privacy, my wonderful Tomasz helped Saul to clean the bodies, and finally, he helped Saul to bathe and dress himself.

Saul insisted on digging the grave, but he was just too weak and eventually he had to accept help. He would labor with visible difficulty until he had to stop, then Tomasz would work furiously until Saul had rested and was ready to take another turn. There wasn’t time for depth or care—instead, they were seeking only to give Eva and baby Tikva the dignity of a resting place.

Saul carried his wife into the grave first. He was almost calm in that moment, as he carefully set her down and spoke to her gently, then he kissed her forehead. The calmness disappeared when Tomasz handed him the body of his infant daughter. Saul began to wail again, loudly and inconsolably. He bent to place the baby on Eva’s chest, then he carefully wrapped her arms around their daughter. At the very last minute, Saul bent again and took one of the tiny leather shoes from Tikva’s feet. As I watched that man climb reluctantly away from the family he was leaving in the earth, I knew how desperately he wished to be staying with them.

After Tomasz filled the grave, Saul dropped to his knees beside it, and he prayed aloud around shuddering sobs, clutching that tiny shoe against his chest.

Tomasz wiped his eyes and jogged to my side. We embraced, and he whispered thickly, “We’re running out of time.”

“I know,” I whispered back. “But...we can’t leave him here. Is there anyone else we can take him to?” Tomasz stepped away from me, and he stared at me then. “No,” I said automatically. “No, Tomasz. We can’t stay here! You said it yourself, if we stay—”

“I have no intention of us staying,” he interrupted me. “It’s not safe for you—they know your name, they know what you look like—you cannot stay, Alina. There is no chance I am going to sit by and watch while—”

“They know who you are too now,” I exclaimed. “Did you not hear what Saul said? This is exactly why we have to leave.”

“They know who I am, which means it is only a matter of time before they figure out who Emilia is,” Tomasz said abruptly. I hadn’t thought of that, and as he said it, my stomach dropped. “I have to tell my other friends to flee. I have to warn your sister and get Emilia to safety. But...” He grabbed my upper arms in his palms and he held me tightly, his gaze hard on mine as he whispered, “Alina, you must go. We can’t miss this chance.”

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