The Great Altruist (6 page)

           
“No,” Jadzia said. “I’d rather never set foot in that place again. But if I see them again for even a few minutes, then it will all be worth it.”

           
“Even if I can’t get you out?”

           
Jadzia took a deep breath and sighed. “Yes, even then.”

           
“Okay,” Genesis said. “If it takes a while for you to emerge, don’t worry; I’m just trying to find a safe point in the stream. I can’t let anyone see me either.”

           
“How long will it take to get me out if something goes wrong?”

           
“I know when I disappear it all seems instant to you, but there’s much I need to prepare in order to enter the stream. In a pinch, I can get you out immediately, although I can’t make any promises where we’ll emerge. It could be the far side of the world.”

           
“I’ll let you handle that then,” Jadzia said.

           
“There’s just one more thing,” she said. “You’ll need clothes. And I can’t fabricate matter from thin air. If you are serious about going inside the camp, there is only one place you’ll be able to find something to wear.”

           
“Where?”

           
Genesis plainly said: “In the gas chambers.”

           
“There are no other options?” Jadzia said as she swallowed hard. She didn’t wait for an answer; she knew Genesis was right. After taking a deep breath and closing her eyes, preparing her mind for what might lay ahead, she said: “Fine. Let’s go.”

           
Genesis paused and watched Jadzia in awe.

           
“Is something wrong?” Jadzia asked.

           
“No,” she answered. “I suppose I don’t understand why you are willing to go through so much just to see them again.”

           
“It’s not just to see them. A wrong must be righted.” Jadzia bowed her head.

           
Genesis said nothing at first, but after minutes passed and not a word from Jadzia, she breached the silence. “What wrong?”

           
Jadzia breathed deeply and ran her fingers through her hair. Then, unable to look up from the ground, she covered her eyes with her hands. “Before the war,” she began, her nose already sniffling, “my grandparents were killed by the Nazis. When they came for my father, I was thirteen. My mother and I were terrified so my father hid us in a small storage closet. The door was beneath a table; no one could see it. There wasn’t enough room for both of us, so my mother – to protect me – hid me alone.

           
“The soldiers broke down the door to our apartment and tried to seize my parents. My father fought back. I crawled deep inside the closet to avoid the sound of my mother screaming. That’s where I found it: my father’s gun. I picked it up and fingered the trigger. I knew I could free us right then if I shot the guards. Before I could crawl back to the doorway, my father was already unconscious. The guards…they laughed as they dragged him outside the apartment and down the stairs. My mother, her mouth bleeding, was carried out later.

           
“I had the gun pointed out the little door, aimed at the guard. But my finger wouldn’t move. I closed my eyes and tried again, but the trigger…it wouldn’t budge. My hand was shaking. By the time I could keep them still, my parents were gone. It was my fault. I have to tell them the truth.”

           
Genesis rushed to her side as Jadzia wept. “I don’t think any of this was your fault. But if you want to ask for their forgiveness anyway, I’ll help you get it done.”

           
Jadzia nodded and wiped her eyes dry. After taking another deep breath and toughening her countenance and straightening her back, she said: “Let’s go.”

           
A second later, they were gone.

Chapter 3

           
When Jadzia emerged from the time stream, it felt as though several minutes passed. She stood in a room she hoped to never see with her own eyes. Her bare feet stood atop the cold concrete floor of the gas chamber. The still air smelled of death. Jadzia’s eyes adjusted to the faint moonlight that seeped through the ventilation hole. The floor was covered with the corpses of a hundred naked, hairless women. Jadzia held back tears and rushed to the corner of the chamber where the clothes of the women laid gathered in a heap. In the pile of clothes she found a shirt with a purple triangle on it. She figured if the Jehovah’s Witnesses in this camp were as well-regarded as they were in Ravensbrück, then she might have a better chance of moving about unmolested. She found a pair of pants that fit and dressed quickly.

           
Genesis appeared in a flash and led Jadzia to the door. Once outside, the women looked around for any sign of the SS. The camp was silent. Genesis raced to the nearest barrack and waved Jadzia across the road. Two guards emerged from an adjacent barrack and headed off to the nearest guard-shack.

           
“Is this it?” Jadzia whispered.

           
Genesis nodded.

           
Quietly, Jadzia opened the barrack’s door and crept along the wall. Genesis followed.

           
The camp’s barrack looked similar to the one in Ravensbrück. Musty and dank, the wood smelled of mildew and the ground dry and barren. Not even an insect could be found. The smell of sewage filled the air and mixed with the scent of death. All throughout the open space where the men slept were the unmistakable sounds of human suffering. Some prayed to God for strength while others mourned their own fate.

           
“Are you okay?” Jadzia asked.

           
“I’ll be fine.” Genesis hid behind Jadzia’s neck where the girl’s long hair covered her.

           
“Where and when are we?”

           
“Well, the end of the war is still three years away,” Genesis whispered. “The camp we’re at is not far from your own.”

           
“How much time do we have?”

           
“Are you sure that is something you want to know?”

           
“Yes.”

           
“Tomorrow. I’m sorry to give you so little time, but there are seldom places in the stream where they are completely alone.”

           
“Where is my father?”

           
“He is here. When you’re done speaking to him, we’ll go to your mother; she’s in a nearby camp.”

           
“Where will you be?”

           
“I’d like to stay close by, if that’s alright. I can hide in your shirt pocket.”

           
Jadzia nodded. Genesis climbed into her pocket as she tip-toed along the corridor amid the bunks. They were stacked three high and two or three prisoners occupied each bed. Most of them faced the wall. After searching as fast (and quietly) as she could, she stumbled upon a man who resembled her father. His face looked older than it should have given the few
years
they spent apart. His hair had thinned and his body frail. Unsure of what to say if he awoke, she studied his face and noticed just how the life, the spark, and the vigor had fled, all of his vitality replaced with a frown, the hopelessness drawn in all the wrinkles.

           
Time dragged on as Jadzia did nothing but watch her father closely. She knew she could not prevent the inevitable, so she tried to remember him the way he was before it arrived. Genesis said and did nothing but allowed Jadzia the opportunity to be with her father in whatever way she wanted. He shifted his weight and slowly, his eyes opened and focused on the young girl’s face before him. Within mere seconds, he concluded the woman’s smile was none other than his daughter’s.

           
“Jadzia?” he asked (just to be sure), to which she nodded. “How are you here?”

           
“I can’t tell you that; it’s too dangerous. I want you to know that I’m safe.”

           
“I’ve missed you so much,” he said as his eyes grew full with tears. “Your mother and I have been worried sick about you.”

           
“I know, father. I can’t stay long, but I wanted to make sure you know how much I love you.”

           
He smiled. “I’ve never doubted that for a moment. I’m just glad to know you’re alive.” He reached out and touched her cheek. “Even if I died tomorrow…”

           
“Don’t speak like that,” she said. She began to weep. “I don’t want to think of this horrible place anymore. I just want to be at peace with you.”

           
“I love you, Jadzia,” her father said. “You’ve grown into such a beautiful woman. I hope, when this war is over, we’ll be together again.”

           
She couldn't hold back the tears. She tried to keep her cries muted, but the thought of her father’s death, just hours away, was too unbearable. “I hope so, father,” she said. “I love you so much.” She looked down and paused. The guilt of her father’s suffering weighed heavily. “There’s something else I need to tell you. The day you and Mama were separated, I could have saved you.”

           
He shook his head. “I don’t think anyone could have saved us, my dear.”

           
“But I could have, Father. And I’m sorry.”

           
He sat up in bed and pulled her closer. “You have nothing to apologize for,” he said. “You did not bring any of this upon us. Is that what you’ve been thinking all this time?”

           
She bowed her head and nodded.

           
“Look at me.” She looked up. “Don’t seek my forgiveness. Nothing is your fault, Jadzia.”

           
He smiled warmly. She burned the image of her father deep into her mind, ever mindful she would never see him alive again. They held each other’s hands for several minutes. Then she felt a gentle nudge on her breast, a signal from Genesis to get moving.

           
“I need to leave, father.”

           
“Yes, dear,” he said. “You must leave this place.” He reached toward her and tenderly kissed her cheek. “Tell your mother – if you see her – that I love her.”

           
“I will.” She kissed her father and softly embraced him. A noise stirred around the corner and Jadzia smiled at her father one last time. He smiled back and turned away as she left. Jadzia hurried back to the door and cautiously stepped into the road outside. Retracing her steps through the camp, she crouched near the truck and watched the guard’s shack for any sign of movement. She stayed low to the ground and made her way back to the crematory. Once outside, she hesitated.