The True Story of Hansel and Gretel (39 page)

Hansel led her along the creek through heavy mud. They took their shoes off and waded part of the way, gasping at the icy water, their feet almost blue when he let her step back onto the mud of the bank. It would hide their scent if they brought dogs. Then the river, the rock, turn south, and he found it. The hidey-hole.

“There’s bread and potatoes inside.”

Gretel waited expectantly while Hansel stared at the brush covering the boards.

The three soldiers slipped from tree to tree. It hadn’t been difficult. The village girl’s directions were correct, and the two children hadn’t been able to hide all their footprints on the mud banks of the creek. It would have been harder if the snow hadn’t melted.

Behind them, the Oberführer walked without deigning to hide. Halina trotted beside him, smothering her sobs with her hand pushed against her mouth. The soldiers stopped and gestured ahead toward the two saplings that stood apart from the larger trees. Jerking the girl’s arm, the Oberführer gestured and raised his eyebrows. Halina, a single sob wrenched out of her throat, nodded. The Oberführer dropped her hand and pushed her against a tree. He took out his pistol and gestured the soldiers forward.

Two of the men tiptoed to the pile of brush. One of them removed the branches gently, almost tenderly, while the second soldier sought a grip on the boards. There was a moment’s pause. The first man took a grenade from his belt, pulled the pin, and nodded.

The boards flew up, the grenade was lobbed into the dark hole, and both men ran to hide behind trees. Even the Oberführer stepped behind a tree and waited. Only Halina, frozen against the bark of an oak, watched as the ground moved and a shower of boards and earth rose into the air. The child slipped to the forest floor in a faint.

Hansel lay with his hand over Gretel’s mouth about two hundred feet away. They lay concealed by leaves under a rotten tree, but he saw the explosion. Gretel tried to raise her head, but he pressed her down.

She lay still, and Hansel watched as the men moved off into the woods toward the road. The SS man cursed the soldiers, and he slapped one of them. Halina lay limp on the ground.

Hansel thought of going to Halina and telling her that he was all right, but he couldn’t trust anyone now. He made Gretel lie under the tree until Halina woke and ran away toward the village so quietly that he almost missed her going.

“Where’s Magda, Hansel?”

“We’ll find her soon,” he lied. He wished she would stop asking him about things.

He turned and began to walk away from the village toward the east. They’d take the road in the other direction. They’d never been on that road. Everyone would expect them to go to places they knew. No one would think they’d go to a new place. They’d have to find a farm. Farms had barns and haystacks. You could hide in those and be warm.

His stomach was beginning to ache. He hadn’t eaten since breakfast and they had no food. The panic rose in the boy and he moaned with each step.

“Hansel?”

He shut his mouth. He was the older one now. He took Gretel’s hand. They’d been hungry before, and then they had found food. That’s how it was sometimes. He walked faster, looking for any line of smoke rising in the sky that would show him where a farm was.

They had been walking a couple of hours, and he heard the voices of the men before he saw them. Hansel pulled Gretel off the road and into the trees where they lay flat on the pine needles. He raised his head just a little so he could see.

A group of men carrying guns moved at a fast trot down the road. They weren’t Germans, but they carried guns, and the boy lay still and watched. The men ran in a tight bunch, a moving clot of gray cloth and guns and beards.

He tucked his head down and waited for them to pass. The men were heading toward the village. He didn’t see his father, fists clenched, in the middle of the group.

“We have to go find Magda and the children.” They had hidden in the swamp for three days, and Nelka was restless and worried.

Telek shook his head. They couldn’t travel safely with the baby. It could cry at any moment. It was hard to silence a baby without smothering it.

“Then I’ll go alone. I have to find Magda.” Nelka began walking back in the direction of the hut. He knew she meant it.

“The baby could give us away. I’ll go and tell you what I find. You have a baby, woman. Think of him.” Telek moved as fast as he could through the sandy swamp. Ignoring his fears she followed, and he didn’t modify his pace until he heard Nelka panting.

When he got close to the hut, he circled the area like a noose drawing gradually tighter. He smelled it in the air, but she hadn’t noticed.

“Sit and nurse him. I’ll see if it’s safe.” He gathered pine boughs and threw them in a pile where she would not be seen for the fallen trees. Nelka settled down on the boughs and he knew she was glad to rest. He moved carefully toward the hut, and when he got to the clearing, he stopped and stared.

The circle of burned earth did not surprise Telek. Being in the woods for days had made him sensitive to the smell of smoke and burning things. He had smelled it long before he saw it. He looked at the blackened dirt and the ash and the stove lying on its side.

Telek looped through the trees until he was sure that they hadn’t posted any soldier to guard the place. Then he squatted, still not going near the ashes, and thought. He was still thinking what to do when Nelka walked through the trees. She ignored him and went straight to the circle of burned ash. Her face was so white it was blue around her mouth, and she held the baby so tightly that it began to shriek.

“Telek,” she called to him, “we should have taken them with us.”

“Magda would have wanted us to run. She loved you.”

“We have to find out. They may know where she is. She could be in the village jail.”

“If we go in the village, any Germans left there will kill us.”

“Maybe she’s at the hidey-hole. You warned her to leave early. It’s my fault. Father Piotr killed to save my baby.”

“He did it because of me. He didn’t want me to get killed or have the sin. He did it to save me.” The humiliation of it, having the old man kill when it was Telek’s job, his joy, to murder and save the baby for Nelka, the humiliation brought tears to Telek’s eyes.

“He did it for me,” she said. “And we didn’t save Magda.”

Nelka began to walk fast, and he saw that she was going toward the hidey-hole.

“For God’s sake, don’t just walk in and get killed. They may know about it.”

“I’m coming,” Nelka whispered. “I’m coming, Magda.”

They found torn up trees and dirt and footprints of men in boots. Nelka lay on the ground and sobbed, lifting the dirt to her face and pressing it against her face. Telek looked for the smaller footprints of children, but the pine needles and leaves of the forest hid the prints.

Nelka finally sat up and wiped her face. “Maybe they’re in the village.”

Telek didn’t believe it. If Magda and the children had been taken to the village, why would the soldiers have come here? Unless it was to catch Nelka and the baby. And him. There could be traps set on the path to the village, waiting soldiers. But he had to do it or Nelka would do it alone.

They slept in the clump of trees and walked to the village the next day. When they got near, Telek made Nelka hide with him in the bushes near the well and watch. It was quiet. There was not a single soldier in sight. They sat and waited for nearly an hour.

Feliks walked toward the well, shouting over his shoulder: “You stupid shit! What’s the point of it?”

“The point is Poland.” Jedrik trailed after Feliks.

“Since when are you such a patriot? I didn’t see you helping the partisans.”

“We have to get rid of all the trash and make Poland pure.”

“Poland’s been raped for six years. She isn’t a virgin, you asshole. Not after the Russians and the Nazis.”

“We will cleanse her.” Jedrik hesitated and then turned to look back toward the houses. He talked to himself in a mutter, and Feliks ignored the man and threw his bucket down the well. Jedrik moved on and Feliks was alone now. Telek waited until Feliks had drawn his water, and when he turned to go back to his house, Telek called out.

“Feliks?”

The man turned with no surprise. “It’s you, Telek.”

“Father Piotr? What did they do to him?”

“Shot him. Threw his body in a truck and took it with them. They wrapped the dead soldier and the SS bitch in blankets and put them in another truck. They’re gone. All of them.”

“Do you know where Magda is?”

“They burned her out and took her and the two little ones with them.”

Nelka sobbed so hard that she had to put the baby on the ground or she would drop him.

“You’re sure?”

“Yes. Then a man came. With some Russians and partisans. He was looking for the children. A relative, I guess. He went to the hut and found nothing.”

“Where did they take them?” Telek knew the answer.

“The rail line. You know the rest.” Feliks nodded at Telek. The radio from London had warned them about the camps. The partisans had known for over a year. “You’d better keep moving, Telek. The Major and his boys are gone, but the Nazis are all over the roads. If they’re looking for you two, they’ll look here first.”

Telek nodded. Nelka was crying with her mouth open and her nose watering, mixing with the tears. He had seen her cry like that when she was a child, when her mother had died.

He sat and held her and wiped her face with the edge of his coat.

“It wasn’t your fault.”

“We have to go where the train takes them.”

Telek said nothing. He knew about the camps. He had seen a few children pushed through tiny openings in the boxcars and thrown out into the snow. No one threw their children from a train in winter unless what lay ahead was worse.

“My love.” He rocked her and stroked her hair. “My love.”