The Kommandant's Girl Read Online Free Page B

Emma Gershmann,” I said, using my maiden name. “Who’s there?” It did not occur to me to be afraid. I heard one footstep, then another. A small boy, no older than twelve, came into view. I recognized him as one of the many Rosenkrantz children from the fourth floor. “You’re Jonas, aren’t you?” I asked. He nodded. “Where is everyone?”
    He did not speak for several minutes. “I was playing in the courtyard when they came,” he began, his voice barely a whisper.
    “Who came, Jonas?” I asked, dreading his answer.
    “Men in uniforms,” he replied softly. “Lots of them.”
    “Germans?” He nodded. Suddenly my knees felt weak. I leaned against the railing for support. “When?”
    “Two days ago. They made everyone leave in a hurry. My family. Yours, too.”
    My stomach twisted. “Where did they go?”
    He shrugged. “They walked south toward the river. Everyone had suitcases.” The ghetto, I thought, sinking down to the bottom stair. Shortly after the start of the occupation, the Nazis had created a walled area in Podgorze, a district south of the river. They had ordered all of the Jews from the nearby villages to move there. It had never occurred to me that my family might have to relocate there, though; we already lived in the Jewish quarter. “I hid until they were gone,” Jonas added. I did not reply, but leapt up and raced back down the stairs to our apartment. At the entrance, I stopped. The mezuzah was gone, ripped from the wooden door frame. I touched the faint shadow that remained where the small metal box had hung for decades. My father must have broken it off as they left. He knew they weren’t coming back.
    I had to find them. I grabbed my suitcase and closed the apartment door behind me, turning to Jonas, who had followed me down the steps. “Jonas, you can’t stay here, it isn’t safe,” I said. “Do you have anyone to go to?” He shook his head. I paused. I couldn’t take him with me. “Here,” I continued, reaching into my bag and passing him a handful of the coins that Jacob had left me. “Use this for food.”
    He shoved the coins in his pocket. “Where are you going?”
    I hesitated. “To find my parents.”
    “Are you going to the ghetto?”
    I looked at him in surprise. I had not realized that he understood where his family had been taken. “Yes.”
    “You won’t be able to leave,” Jonas said with childlike logic. I hesitated. In my haste, it hadn’t occurred to me that going to the ghetto meant I would be imprisoned, too.
    “I have to go. You be careful. Stay out of sight.” I put my hand on his shoulder. “I’ll tell your mother you’re okay if I see her.” Not waiting for him to reply, I turned and raced down the stairs.
    Outside I paused, looking in both directions down the deserted street. The Nazis must have cleared the entire neighborhood, I realized. I stood motionless, trying to figure out what to do. Jonas was right, of course. If I went to the ghetto, I would not be able to leave again. But what other choice did I have? I could not stay in our apartment. Even standing here on the street was probably not safe. I wished desperately that Jacob was here; he would surely know what to do. Of course, if he was here, I would still be safe in our bedroom in the Baus’ apartment, instead of alone on the street corner with nowhere to go. I wondered how far away he was by now. Would he have left if he realized what would happen to me so soon after he was gone?
    I will go to the ghetto, I decided. I had to know if my parents were there, if they were all right. Picking up my bags once more, I began walking swiftly through the empty streets of the Jewish quarter, making my way south toward the river. The scraping of the soles of my shoes and my suitcase against the pavement were the only sounds that broke the early morning silence. My skin grew moist under my clothes and my arms ached as I struggled to carry my overstuffed bags in the thick autumn