The True Story of Hansel and Gretel (34 page)

“Gone, Oberführer. The man Telek is also gone.”

“Kill the priest. Have the village present, and then kill every third person. Nelka had other family? An old woman? Two children who lived with her? They’re related somehow. You’ll have to send soldiers to get them. None of the family can live now. We’ll kill all of them.”

The Major breathed hard. His hands trembled. The bastard with his orders. He’d never fought a single battle. “There are problems with that, Oberführer. My orders are to leave no bodies. We just dug up those that were shot when the village was taken and burned them. There isn’t time to burn all those people before the trucks get here, and the trucks can’t wait.”

“Shoot them in the forest. It’s deep enough to hide anything.”

“If we begin shooting women and children now, we might not see Germany again.”

“Are you telling me that a German woman and a German soldier were murdered in cold blood, and there will be no reparations?”

“I have only fifteen soldiers. There are fifty men who are able in this village, and women who would fight if we start shooting children.”

“They have nothing to fight with.”

“God knows what they have. I don’t want to find out. I’ll kill the priest. He’s the murderer. He admits it. That’s justice.”

“I demand that you kill at least a third of this village.”

“And what do we do with the bodies? Take them all the way to Germany with us?” The Major was standing now. The priest sat slumped and leaning against the wall. One eye was swollen shut and his mouth was bloody.

“You will follow my orders or be court-martialed when we return to Germany.”

“And Nelka?” The Major had never intended to let the Oberführer know that he knew about Nelka and the blood. He had never intended to say anything, but he was angry. “As head of this village, I hear many things, Oberführer. I heard that you used the woman, Nelka, for your own purposes. Something to do with transfusions, I believe.”

The Oberführer felt the anger rising and twisting in him. Who had told? Not Sister Rosa. She would never go against his will. It had to be the bitch, Nelka.

“I also seem to remember that someone reported something about Nelka’s ancestors. It was rumored that Nelka’s great-grandmother was a Gypsy. That makes Nelka a subhuman.”

“It was a jealous rumor. She is of pure blood.”

“In some circles—at home—the rumor might be believed. It’s too bad, really.” The Major didn’t smile, but he let his voice relax into amusement. “That would make you one of them now.”

The SS man took a step forward and the Major put his hand lightly over the pistol at his side as if resting it there.

The rumors of Gypsy blood could have been right, the Oberführer thought, and it would end his career. Nelka had known all along. The bitch hadn’t told him. She sat on her chair and watched him being contaminated. His hatred of her made him begin to pant. He stepped to the priest and kicked him twice, as hard as he could, but it didn’t help. The rage was so great it made him sweat.

He needed to kill the Major and all the soldiers. The Major could have told all of them about the blood. He had to kill them, and he knew it was impossible. If he killed one soldier, the others would kill him. They had that loyalty to each other that the Russian front had bred. All he could do was hope that they died in the fighting of the next months.

He had planned so carefully for how he would live after the war if they lost. “I am the Chalice,” he whispered. The great truths had been poured into him, the selected one. He held the knowledge, and if the war was lost, he would be able to teach the next generation. But he must be pure. He must be the purest of the pure, and Nelka had ruined that. And Nelka must have told the old woman. The children would know. The boy was always hanging on to Nelka.

“You can at least round up the old woman and those brats that live with her.”

The Major hesitated. If it satisfied the Oberführer, it might be possible. Then the man would let him get on with the job of retreating and saving as many of his men as he could.

“We’ll execute the priest. When the trucks get here, we’ll collect the old woman and the two children. They can go with us until we get to a place where they can be disposed of.”

“How are you going to kill the priest?”

The Major looked at the old man. He had murdered the boy.

“I’ll shoot him myself.”

“It’s almost dawn. What’s the date, Major?”

“The twentieth,” the Major said and then remembered that he’d been up all night and it was a new day. “The twenty-first,” he corrected himself. “It’s the twenty-first of March.”

Telek carried most of the food and blankets and a heavy canvas cloth they could use for shelter. That and his guns and ammunition weighed him down, but he moved quickly. Nelka wore all her warm clothes and carried the baby and a light pack with the flour and bread she had in her kitchen when she got back to the house carrying the baby.

“We have to go to Magda’s first,” she said.

“I told Magda to take the children and go into the forest at dawn, after I got back from burning the bodies. They may not find the bodies until the guard changes at four. They won’t think of Magda in the confusion. They may not think of her at all.”

“You’re sure she’ll leave at dawn?”

“I told her to. Magda and the children will be all right, but we could get caught if we try to double around and get to the hut. They guard that end of the road at night.”

“As soon as we can, we’ll go get them.”

“When the Germans are gone. Feliks thought it would be in the next few days. Walk faster. We have to get to the swamp so our tracks can’t be seen.”

“Did you make your confession to Father Piotr, Telek?”

His silence told her.

“Oh God. He saved you from killing them.”

Telek took small steps so she could easily walk where he put his feet and avoid the pools of water that were growing deeper around them. The spongy peat gave under his feet. He knew where they were going, and it would be shelter for a few days. Then they would move on.

“He saved the baby,” she said.

Telek couldn’t talk about it. He had wanted to kill the woman and the soldier for Nelka. He flushed in his shame that an old man had done it for him. They walked in silence for an hour and then rested for a few minutes on a sandy spit in the bog.

“The guns are closer.” Nelka adjusted the baby and shifted the sack on her back.

“They won’t come through this part of the forest. They’ll stay on the roads. Trucks and tanks can’t come over this ground.”

Nelka looked up and gasped. It was like a bonfire in front of them, but there was no roar of fire. It jumped and moved and leapt in the air and then died down to appear again farther on. The dank layer of water vapor in the air was lit by blue, orange, and gold light swirling in front of them.

“Swamp fire.” Telek put his arm around her shoulders.

“They say it’s witches leading you into the bogs where you’ll never get out.”

“There are no witches, darling.”

Nelka shuddered and made the sign of the cross in the air. They stood close until the fiery light died out and left them again in the swirling fog. “We’ll go and find Magda in a few days?”

“When it’s safe. I don’t want to lead them to her.”

In a few more hours they would be on a larger island of sand where they could rest. The Germans wouldn’t follow them so deep into the swamp of the forest. Not with the Russian guns so close. They moved on slowly now, the water sometimes as deep as Nelka’s knees.

“We don’t have to leave until noon, child. Let me sleep.”

Hansel had tried three times to get Magda up. She was too weak, and didn’t understand what he kept telling her, and then she would fall back into a feverish sleep. He thought of taking Gretel to the hidey-hole and coming back for Magda, but Gretel might wander off and get lost.

Hansel groaned and rubbed his eyes. He wouldn’t leave Magda. He’d never leave her. Finally, just before dawn, Magda woke. She had feverish memories of what the boy had said during the night, and then she heard it. Guns. Big ones. The front was moving toward them.

Telek said it was time to hide in the sty. She had told him she would be gone with the children by dawn. She sighed. There was still work to be done. She knew the Russians. They’d steal everything. And if they stole her baskets of medical tools, how would she support herself?

“Magda? We have to go. Quick. I told you.”

“I’m trying, boy. It isn’t a good morning.” She coughed deeply.

“They must have Father Piotr now. Nelka and the baby are already gone.”

Magda heard him distantly. It was such a lot of work to get her boots on.

“Telek will bring her, and the baby.” Magda sighed deeply and sat down in the chair. They would need water. The bucket was empty.

“Magda.” Hansel was crying. “We have to run. They’ll get us.”

It was barely light outside when she opened the door. Magda sniffed the air. They had burned the bodies of the dead. Dug them up and burned them. No peace even after death. The ground around the creek was soft and the mud covered her boots to her ankles. She pulled her feet out of the black earth with an effort and smiled. The land was running water. Weeping like a child. Everything moist and muddy and the night fog lying heavy.

Hansel kept talking to her, but she didn’t understand most of it. The war was slipping past them, and perhaps they could have some peace. Telek said if they left by noon it would be safe. The boy must have been dreaming. Her brother would never kill. That wasn’t his sort of sin.

Magda dipped her bucket into the creek and lifted it half full. They wouldn’t need more than that. They’d be gone by noon. Her head spun with the fever. The boy’s voice was very far away. She had to concentrate. It was a long walk into the woods.

The sound of the guns told every man and woman in Piaski what was happening, but they couldn’t rejoice. The Germans weren’t gone yet, and who knew what the Russians would be like.

“The women will have to hide in the woods for a week or two,” Patryk told his wife. “The Russians will be like wolves.”

She nodded. They sat in silence thinking of what to take with them.

“Raus! Raus! Raus!”
The German order chilled them, and Patryk shuddered. They both stood and moved to the door. He picked up the boy and carried him. The boy could walk, but Patryk carried him anyway. With the child in his arms, he turned toward Zanna. She touched his forehead and made the sign of the cross on his skin. Then she made a cross on the boy’s head.

Patryk pushed aside the heavy hair that hadn’t been braided yet for the day and made the same sign on her forehead. Then they went outside.

“Raus! Raus!”
the soldiers screamed.

“They’re excited—” Patryk began and then stopped. He didn’t want to frighten the boy.