The Librarian of Auschwitz(20)
She leaves the Block?ltester’s cubicle with her hands empty; the two little volumes are perfectly concealed under her clothes. Anyone who saw her going in and coming out would have no idea she was taking something away. She takes advantage of the flurry of activity after the roll call to make her way to the back of the hut. She hides behind a pile of wood and takes the books out of the hidden pockets. The others have no idea where they’ve come from. The children look at her with the same smiling admiration they have for a magician and his tricks.
It’s Avi Fischer who’s asked for the math book for his group of children, the oldest in the school. Dita sees herself as just an ordinary girl whom nobody notices. That’s why, when she started as the librarian, she assumed she’d hand the book over to the teacher, and no one would pay any attention to her. She’d melt into the crowd like a shadow. But she was wrong.
When she reaches a group, instinct and curiosity make even the most unruly children suddenly stop what they’re doing and watch her. The teacher takes the book by the cover and opens it, reverent.
Many of the children hated books when they were going to regular school. Books were synonymous with boring classes and homework, which prevented them from going outside to play. But here a book is like a magnet; the children are drawn to it.
Dita’s attention is caught by Gabriel, a mischievous redhead covered in freckles. He’s always making animal noises during class, or pulling a girl’s hair, or plotting some prank. But even he looks at the book, totally absorbed.
When Dita hands over her second book, other teachers signal that they, too, would like a book. She crosses paths with Seppl Lichtenstern, a deputy director, and comments on the new interest.
“I don’t know what’s happened. Suddenly, I’m being flooded with requests for books.”
“They’ve realized the library service works.”
Dita smiles, a little overwhelmed by the compliment and the responsibility. Everyone expects so much of her now.
“Seppl, I have a suggestion. Has Fredy told you about my invention for hiding books under my clothing?”
“Yes, he thinks it’s very clever.”
“Well, it makes things easier if there’s a sudden inspection, even if they don’t happen too often. What I’m proposing is that you use my secret pockets as a model and have two more made up for another assistant volunteer. That way we could have all the books out here during the day at the disposal of the teachers. Then it really would be like a genuine library.”
Lichtenstern stares at her.
“I’m not sure I understand what you’re proposing…”
“I’d have the books out on top of the chimney during morning classes, and that way, each time there’s a class changeover, the teachers could come and ask for a book. Teachers could even request more than one book in the course of a morning, if they wanted to. If there were an inspection, we’d hide the books in the secret pockets under our clothes.”
“You want to have the books out on top of the chimney? That’s reckless. I don’t approve of that.”
“Do you think Fredy would agree?”
The na?veté with which Dita asks the question is so exaggerated that the deputy director loses control. Could it be that this child is trying to undermine his authority?
“I’ll discuss it with the director, but you might as well forget the idea. I know Fredy.”
But Lichtenstern is wrong. Here, no one knows anyone.
6.
Lichtenstern owns the only watch in the camp, and at the end of the morning he bangs a gong made from a particularly thin metal bowl, which sounds loudly to signal that classes are over. It’s time for soup. First, though, the children must form a straight line and walk to the washroom to rinse their hands.
Dita walks over to Professor Morgenstern’s corner and picks up the H. G. Wells book he has been using to explain the fall of the Roman Empire to his students. The professor looks like a shabby Father Christmas with his close-cropped white hair, unshaven white stubble, and eyebrows that look like pieces of white wire. His very worn jacket is coming apart at the shoulder seams and has no buttons. Despite that, he stands very tall in it. He walks with a regal dignity that matches the old-fashioned, if somewhat excessive, politeness of his manners, such as his habit of addressing even the youngest child as “young man” or “young lady.”
Dita takes hold of the book with both hands just in case the clumsy old man drops it. She has felt especially curious about him ever since that incident during the inspection, which served her so well in allowing her to elude the Priest. So, some afternoons, she goes to his corner to visit him. Professor Morgenstern always hastens to stand as soon as he sees her coming, and gives her a very deep bow. It amuses her that he starts to talk without preamble.
“Are you aware of the significance of the distance between your eyes and your eyebrows?” he asks, intrigued. “It’s hard to find people with the ideal distance—neither too close nor too far away.”
His words tumble out as he speaks enthusiastically about the most absurd topics, but he can also suddenly stop talking and gaze up at the ceiling or into space. If anyone tries to interrupt him, he gestures with his hand for them to wait a moment.
“I’m listening to the wheels in my brain turning,” he declares very seriously.