Three Sisters (The Tattooist of Auschwitz #3)(113)

‘You won’t be around when she is old enough to drink.’ Livi laughs.

Livi weaves her way through her family, ducking as Yossi throws his eight-year-old granddaughter in the air. The young adults, the third generation of the family, have escaped onto the balcony.

‘Mind if an old girl joins you?’ Livi asks her grandson, stepping outside.

‘Ema, I will be old before you are,’ he says, taking his petite grandmother in his arms and lifting her off her feet.

‘Have you seen all the food in there?’ Livi says.

‘It’s about normal,’ her granddaughter says. ‘You know we’ll eat it all, don’t you?’

‘Hey, I’m hoping we don’t eat it all so I can take some away. I rely on these family gatherings to feed me for a week,’ her cousin insists.

‘I will leave you to talk about whatever it is young people talk about these days,’ Livi says, as she turns to go back inside.

‘We talk about what you and your sisters talked about at our age.’

‘That’s what worries me, and that’s why I am leaving.’

Ziggy grabs her as she comes back inside, placing a loving arm around her waist. ‘Come and get something to eat. God knows there’s enough food,’ he says.

‘So much noise, Ziggy. I don’t know if I love it or hate it,’ Livi says, leaning into him.

‘You love it – always have, always will.’

‘I will put some food on a plate and go and talk to Magda. Everyone is standing up and she is the only one sitting down,’ Livi says.

‘Cibi’s sitting.’

‘Cibi’s in a wheelchair.’

Livi drags a chair next to Magda. Without an invitation, Magda begins to pick from the plate. ‘Cibi doesn’t look good,’ she says.

‘If only she would get out of that wheelchair and use her legs, she would get better much faster,’ Livi replies.

‘Ema, Aunty Amara and Uncle Udom are here!’ Dorit yells from the other side of the apartment.

Livi looks round to see her daughter wrap her arms around Amara, her friend from the orange groves, the shy girl who introduced her to dates. Her husband, Udom, is holding a huge plate of falafels and a small wicker basket of dates.

‘Take the plate, Dorit,’ Livi yells back, rising from her chair and making her way across the room. ‘Now the whole family is here.’ Livi beams as she hugs her old friend.

‘I think Odie wants your attention,’ says Amara.

Odie is clinking a knife against his glass, asking for quiet. The chatter in the room rises in volume as each person tells the one next to them to be silent.

The young adults step inside the room, and the younger children immediately seize their opportunity to claim the balcony for themselves.

‘Ema, Aunty Magda, would you please come and sit next to Aunty Cibi?’ Odie says.

The three sisters sit side by side at the front of the room.

Odie reaches for Pam’s hand. ‘Pam and I are so happy to be here with you all and we thank you so much for coming. I want to take this moment to show you something very special.’

‘What is it?’ Cibi says, in a loud whisper to Livi.

‘Let’s just all wait and see,’ Livi tells her.

‘Pam and I have been working on a glass sculpture for a long time now. It is currently on display in an exhibition called “WAR Light Within/After the Darkness” at a gallery in Toronto. We called it The Miracle of Three Sisters.’

‘Have you got it here?’ Magda asks.

‘No, Aunty, it’s too big to bring all the way over to Israel, and anyway, it’s still in the exhibition. But we do have a photo of it here, in the gallery catalogue.’

Odie hands the catalogue to Livi. Cibi and Magda lean in to look at the photo.

They gasp as one when they see etched into the base of the towering glass structure the numbers 4559.

‘That’s your number,’ Cibi says.

Livi cannot speak. Ziggy makes his way over and places both his hands on her shoulders. Cibi takes a sip of wine, her breathing slow and heavy. Magda wipes her eyes and turns to her daughters, who are leaning in for a hug.

Pam is trying to speak, but her tears are making it difficult to get the words out. ‘Do .?.?. do you like it?’ she manages, finally.

Livi hands the catalogue to Magda and embraces her son and daughter-in-law. Odie cries on her shoulder. ‘I didn’t know how else to honour the three of you and what you did to survive and give us our lives,’ he sobs.

‘You honour me by being my son,’ Livi tells him, setting Pam off once more.

Karol is on his knees, hugging his mother. Eventually, he gets to his feet and picks up his glass, clinking it with the ring on his finger. Once more there is silence in the room. ‘As the eldest of the sisters’ children, I would like to say a few words,’ he announces.

‘Like mother, like son,’ Magda says.

A moment of stunned silence is followed by raucous laughter.

‘OK, OK, so I learnt from the best – thank you, Mother,’ Karol says to Cibi. ‘No, seriously, just for a moment, before we return to our merrymaking .?.?.’

‘And more drinking,’ Cibi adds.

‘And more drinking,’ Kari agrees, then continues: ‘We have always known we have a very special family and everyone who has joined us continues to make it special. Odie and Pam, we miss you in Canada and don’t see enough of you, and now you present us with this amazing tribute to the sisters. We want to thank you for what you have created in their memory.’ Raising his glass, he yells, ‘To the Three Sisters.’ A chorus of ‘To the Three Sisters,’ rings out.