Warsaw (38 page)

During the time in which Thomas checked around the vehicles
for anymore SS Duritz had made his way up the dismal street in an attempt to
find Jessica. Adam found her soon enough, dying.

Kolya could hear the taunts of the psychotic policeman from
the flights of stairs below. For a short time the boy had commenced to sob as
if the violent demon had already caught up with him. The child's heart pounded
frenetically as though Kolya had been plunged into a vivid nightmare. Indeed
wasn't there even a horrid sense of deja vu about the scenario? For more than
once Kolya had dreamed that the pock-marked policeman was chasing him through
the gothic maze of the ghetto. And always Meisel had finally hunted the boy
down, upon which Kolya would wake. Sweating. Terrified - caught in the twilight
between sleep and the waking world.

After a couple of days from when Meisel had pursued Kolya
before - and sensing that the boy was still suffering from the ordeal - Duritz
had spoken to him. He said he was proud of the boy that he ran - and he was
clever enough to hide. When those two options were exhausted though, when you
had no choice, Duritz advised Kolya on how he had to fight.

"Use any weapon you can find. Fight fast and fight
dirty... Consider your size as a strength, not weakness. Remember that you're
mobile...That they won't be expecting you to fight back....Use the element of
surprise."

Duritz's words echoed through the youth now. Kolya reached
the top floor and realised there was nowhere else left to run. But he could
still hide - and fight. He saw the half-brick prop open the door to a deserted
apartment. He picked the russet-coloured block up, bulky in his tiny hand. He
peered into the room and saw the window. Kolya rushed to open it, making a loud
scraping noise as he did so.

Yitzhak Meisel felt a slight drop in temperature as he
climbed to the top of the creaking stairs. A draught wafted into his face.
Added to the sound of what he suspected was a window opening the constable
decided to venture into the apartment from where the draught was emanating.
Meisel tapped the hard wooden truncheon upon his thigh with every step he took.
It was a small one-room dwelling. The door was fully open, resting against the
wall. The policeman furrowed his brow. Had he been wrong? Did some of the
apartments have balconies? Was the daring ferret attempting now to scale down a
drainpipe? Meisel approached the window, half expecting to see the boy hanging
down from the windowsill, in hope that the policeman wouldn't check such a
thing.

The last thing Yitzhak Meisel heard was a brief war cry, cut
short through him losing consciousness. As the policeman steadily approached
the open window Kolya came out from his claustrophobic hiding place in between
the open door and corner of the apartment. The first blow would be crucial. As
quiet as Kolya planned to be he couldn't help but scream in fury at his
tormentor as he clubbed Meisel on the back of the head with the heavy brick.

"If one of them goes down, make sure they stay
down," Duritz had advised with logic rather than emotion instilled his
tone. The boy let out a cry each time he struck the floored policeman on the
head. Hate displaced fear. The monster would not have a chance to retaliate.
Again and again blood from the constable's skull marked the brick and the boy's
hand (traces of Kolya's own skin and blood could also be seen on the weapon
from where he gripped the rough block so tightly). It would be impossible to
tell which one of the vicious blows actually killed the policeman, but I have
little doubt that Kolya continued to bring the jagged brick down upon Yitzhak's
head after he was slain. In the end the boy could barely lift his make-shift
club. Blood and even tiny pieces of bone flecked the boy's face like measles.
Slumped upon his knees over the gory body Kolya tried to recover his breath -
his breathing high-pitched as if he were crying at the same time.

A couple of the machine-gun's stray rounds had struck the
woman. Jessica lay upon the street, sipping in air through shallow breaths. One
bullet had struck her shoulder, the other had shot through her mid-rift. It
took a heroic effort for Jessica to keep her eyes open, such was her failing
state. Death beckoned her like sleep, but she fought to stay awake. Jessica's
efforts had proved worth it when she finally saw Adam standing over her. Her
skin was lily-white. She smiled, lovingly, up at the distraught face. She
shivered as she spoke. Adam dropped to his knees to hear her frail voice.

"You're hit," Jessica whispered, more concerned
for Duritz than she was for herself.

"Don't speak. Save your strength. Thomas will get
help."

Jessica shook her head in reply, the slight movement sending
a searing pain from her shoulder down to her hip. She winced, her expression
betraying but a fraction of the agony the girl felt.

"You must take care of Kolya."

"I will." Rain began to stream down Adam's broken
face, as did the brackish tears. Jessica's fingertips motioned slightly in the
reddened puddle they were lying in. Adam clasped her pale, but still responsive
hand.

"Thank you," Jessica managed to get out, her voice
growing hoarser. Gasping. Weakening.

"For what?" Adam replied, a lump in his throat.
His young heart was filled with more love and sadness now than he thought
possible.

"For saving me," Jessica answered. She bit her lip
in one final grip of pain but then smiled at Duritz - a peculiar wisdom and
serenity suffused in her blanched features. The bleeding, internal and
external, was too extensive. Life ebbed out of the virtuous girl like waves
retreating from the shore. Adam tenderly kissed his life-giving love upon the
mouth, briefly warming Jessica's cold lips, but then his Sleeping Beauty became
just so.

Epilogue.

Thomas mournfully gazed down upon the pair, sleeting rain
spitting in his face. For once he was at a loss as to what to say, or think.

Duritz heard footsteps and voices in the background. The
shower grew heavier, creating a constant "shushing" sound in the air.
Adam still did not look up though, remaining on his knees before Jessica,
holding her precious hand. He did not care who they were, German or Jew.

The scuttling noises in the background grew louder. Thomas
noticed that some of the guns pointing in his direction - as he lowered his own
rifle to the ground - were homemade. The dozen or so Jewish men, all
approximately Adam's age, split up into two groups. They first circled the
German Corporal, holding their rifles aloft. A few methodically began to
salvage any weapons, tools or provisions they could from the dead soldiers and
the truck (even removing parts of the engine from the vehicles).

Adam finally glanced up upon seeing the feet of Kolya in his
view. Duritz mumbled that he was "sorry" to the boy. Kolya barely
heard the word though before burying his tear-soaked face into Duritz's chest.

"Is he German or Jewish?" remarked a voice,
pointing his gloved finger at Thomas. The man was slightly older than Adam.
Medium height. Black curly hair sprouted out beneath a tatty cloth cap. His
face was round and heavily stubbled. His dark brown eyes unblinking and
unreadable.

"German, but a friend," Adam issued.

"A German is a German."

"I've heard SS officers say "a Jew is a Jew"
and use it as an excuse to murder. I thought you were fighting the enemy, not
turning into him," Adam challengingly replied, still simmering from anger
and remorse.

A solitary shot rang out, fracturing the pause. Everyone
looked to turn to its source.

"There was one of them still alive in the front of the
cabin," a rough voice explained to the commanding figure who had addressed
Adam. He nodded in reply to the man, whose rifle muzzle still smoked in his
hands, expressing that he both understood and approved of the man's action.

"My name is Michal. I am part of a Jewish resistance
group. If you have nowhere to go then you can come with us. You will have to
earn your keep and fight though if you do so."

"The boy must be allowed to come with me."

"That's fine. I'm sure we can find work for him too. We
must hurry though," Michal ordered. There was a natural authority yet also
self-importance to the man Duritz would later conclude.

Adam looked to Thomas. The soldier nodded his head to
express that he would be okay and that Adam should go with the group. Duritz
smiled, weakly. Thomas responded in kind, communicating that so much would have
to remain unspoken between the two friends.

The moon slid back behind a cloud, either bored or too
saddened to continue to gaze down upon the ghetto anymore. Besides, the scene
was ending. Duritz was disappearing into the night, his white face still a long
time visible as he glanced back at the German. Adam would think upon his friend
often over the coming months, desiring his company. The street was strewn with
corpses, like characters littering the stage at the close of a tragedy.
 

The calm after the storm. Thomas wearily surveyed the
haunted avenue - not quite believing what had come to pass over the last hour.
So much had changed. Events had overtaken him. He shivered and felt faint.
Feint. Although it was only a flesh wound he had lost a considerable amount of
blood, much of which saturated his right trouser leg. The lonely looking
soldier removed his belt and improvised a tourniquet. Using his empty rifle as
a makeshift crutch Thomas limped back to his billet, waving off concern and
questions from the soldiers who he encountered along the way.

When Thomas eventually returned to his unit he quietly woke
Oscar Hummel. He spoke to his loyal Private for around half an hour, after
which he entrusted a large collection of papers to his friend. Most of the
papers consisted of the writings that Adam Duritz had given to him for
safekeeping, but the last sheet the Corporal handed over was a letter from
Thomas addressed to his wife. He informed his confidant that he had committed a
crime and that he would soon be arrested.

Despite Thomas' protestations about there being "no
need" Oscar Hummel insisted upon bandaging his friend's leg before he left
him. Too tired to argue he acceded to his friend's kind offer. Oscar also tried
to badger his Corporal into seeing the medic but Thomas replied that he would
do so in the morning. He just wanted to sleep. Shortly afterwards Oscar
reluctantly left his Corporal. He was scared for his friend. There was an
unnerving detached manner to his speech and looks. Knowing it to be against his
friend's wishes the Private still decided to send for a medic. In the interim
though Thomas drank a couple of large measures of brandy from a bottle that he
kept for special occasions and, with an expression of unnatural torment upon
his face, he shot himself in the head. He strangely blew out the candle in the
room beforehand, as though Thomas could have only committed the act in the
dark.

The wound in his arm had barely begun to heal before Duritz
involved himself in the resistance. At first he was recruited into the
intelligence arm of the underground group (which soon after merged itself with
the larger ZOB - Zydowska Organizacja Bojowa. The Jewish Fighting Force).
Duritz helped target certain Jewish inhabitants of the ghetto who were wealthy
and able to make a donation, voluntarily or not, to the group. Working in the
reconnaissance and expropriation arm for the resistance also allowed Adam to
keep an eye on Kolya. The youth was recruited by Michal as a "sniffer".
One day, within the first week of Adam and Kolya joining the youthful band,
Michal took his new recruits on an expropriation raid. They all broke into the
apartment of a member of the Jewish Council. Whilst Michal held the elderly man
and his daughter at gunpoint Adam and Kolya searched the flat for valuables.
Just when it appeared that the man had little wealth to give Kolya was suddenly
struck by an idea and searched the candle which was burning on the dining
table. Embedded in the wax Kolya found half a dozen diamonds. From that day
onwards Michal considered the boy lucky and took Kolya with him on all of his
missions.

One evening, shortly after this event, Duritz took Kolya to
one side. He told him how much he had loved his sister. How he had once wronged
her - and how he could never wholly forgive himself. But that Jessica had
eventually forgiven him - and told him that she loved him. Adam also confessed
to the boy how he had promised his sister before she died that he would take
care of him. Duritz however asked Kolya if he could be relieved of this duty.
He would be better off sticking to Michal; Michal would do the right thing by
Kolya and see him through the war. Adam could not reveal that it was difficult
to be around the boy as Kolya reminded him too much of Jessica.

Soon after Duritz became a sniper for the ZOB. He worked
alone, volunteering to take on dangerous missions. A funereal Adam kept himself
to himself; he was a man possessed. In his own words all he did was "eat,
sleep and kill Germans". Shortly before the Warsaw Ghetto Uprising of
April 1943 Duritz was in a ZOB hideout with a handful of other members of the
resistance. The safe house had been compromised however and the basement
sanctuary of the building was attacked by a unit of SS soldiers. It all
happened very fast. The ZOB sentry posted on the entrance to the basement was
killed immediately. Duritz ordered the five remaining members of the cell to
retreat. Whilst Duritz fired up the stairs at the soldiers the five other
people in the room attempted to shift the stove in the corner, which concealed
an escape route out of the basement. Just when the iron stove had finally been
shifted enough though for the resistance fighters to make their exit an ominous
sound bounced upon the staircase. A grenade entered the room. There was a
moment's pause. Witnesses testified to there being a strange smile upon
Duritz's face as he dived upon the missile, allowing for the rest of the group
in the room to escape.

During and after the Uprising Kolya Rubenstein did indeed
stick to Michal Grajek. They escaped through the sewers when the Germans
finally took back the ghetto. They subsequently lived out the rest of the war
hidden by a Polish friend of Michal's in a barn in the countryside. After the
war, after his attempts to locate his parents, Kolya Rubenstein studied to
become a schoolteacher. He passed away - a parent and grandfather - at the age
of seventy-five.