Chapter Twenty-One

TWO HOURS HAVE passed since I ran into the nearest alley and hid behind a cluster of garbage bins. I feel my chest caving in. I can’t breathe here amid the stench and rot enveloping me. No one is coming back for me. It’s obvious. I’m on my own now. I want to scream at the top of my lungs. I can’t go back to the apartment. Someone could be there right now waiting for me.

I hug my trembling body, press the loaded gun to my chest. I could try to get to the forest somehow and join the Polish resistance. But look at me. It’s the middle of the night and I am wearing a bloodstained evening gown.

There is only one option. The most unsafe place in the world is now the only safe place left for me to go. Home.

All fourteen of the ghetto’s entrances will surely be heavily guarded, especially after the nightclub explosion. The only way back inside is to go underground. Sewer or tunnel. And it will cost me plenty. I check my purse for the umpteenth time, stare at the thick wad of zlotys nestled between my false papers. I must go through the park, where I can hide, and from there I will have to choose between the closest sewer or a makeshift tunnel leading into the ghetto, if the Nazis haven’t already blown them up.

I make my way to the park and find a concealed space among a cluster of thick oak trees and hide there, to buy myself time. In the distance, I spot two shadowy figures approaching. I hold my breath as they get closer. I make out twin black-leather jackets. One man is heavyset, the other beanpole thin. They round the park twice. Smugglers for sure, but they could be anybody, paid off by anyone.

The two men spark up cigarettes and stand in place. As I move in for a closer look, relief overtakes me. I recognize one of the men. We crossed paths on at least two occasions. A sewer smuggler, a Pole, who goes by the name Vladek, and the other is not a man but a teenager. They are my only option. And I have just two things to offer in exchange for passage: money and sex.

You also have a gun, I remind myself, as I walk toward them. You can force them to take you back. Twigs crack beneath my shoes, and Vladek quickly turns my way.

“Who’s there?” he whispers loudly. He has a gun too.

I take a deep, anxious breath. This could go either way. Start with the bribe and see what happens. I keep the gun hidden behind my purse.

“Cigarette?” I ask Vladek in Polish. “Cigarette” is standard smugglers’ code for passage into the ghetto.

“It’s late. How many do you need?” he asks, sizing me up from the corner of his eye while looking past me to see who else might be lurking or hiding.

“Just one.” Passage for one.

“When?”

“Now.”

He laughs, eyeing me fully. A woman who looks like she is dressed for a night on the town, not a makeshift tunnel connecting the Aryan side to the ghetto, with soldiers everywhere.

He moves in closer, mere inches away, and I can smell his sour, smoky breath. I have two bullets left. I may need them once I’m back inside the ghetto. “There was an explosion,” he says. “Gestapo is doubled up at every corner. It will cost you.” He doesn’t look directly at me, rather over my shoulder, watching for anything amiss, but his voice echoes into the dead of night.

“What do you want?” I ask, knowing exactly what he wants.

“I’ve seen you before, haven’t I?”

“Yes.” Our eyes square off. “Name your price.”

“Two things.”

I sigh deeply.

“One for me and one for him. And six hundred zlotys.”

I could kill them both right now, right here, and be done with it. I could blow their lusty brains out, rob their wallets, snag their cigarettes, and wear the clothes of the teenage apprentice. But someone else inside the ghetto may need passage in or out. These men, these lowlifes, are our lifeline. Pay the price, I tell myself. Save the bullets. It will be over quickly.

“I want a guarantee that you will take me all the way to the other side.”

“Doesn’t work like that anymore.” Vladek takes a long drag, expelling a lazy ribbon of smoke, as though we have all day. “Too dangerous. I will take you halfway there. And I will give you my flashlight, which adds to the price. The rest of the risk is on you.”

I blow air out of my cheeks. He has me where he wants me, and we both know it.

“Which one of you is taking me?” I ask, then change my mind. “I want you,” I tell Vladek, the experienced one.

“That’s what they all say,” he laughs lasciviously. His apprentice chuckles. “You’re a Jew?”

I roll my eyes, put my hands to my hips. “Do I look like a Jew? My older brother is in there, married to one. I have gone back and forth a few times for my dying mother’s sake to make sure he’s okay. He wouldn’t leave his Jewish wife and children. I’m doing this for her.”

Vladek looks at me sympathetically, then his face hardens, knowing that everyone lies. Truth doesn’t exist anymore. He stretches out his hand. “Money up front.”

I hear the sirens sounding in the distance. “You’re right. There are police and soldiers everywhere. Let’s not get arrested while we haggle. I’ll give you whatever you want underground. All of what I owe you...” My eyes bore into his, and he meets my final offer with a nod.

The younger smuggler starts shuffling his feet, turns to his mentor. “I will stand watch.”

“Stay away from the street,” Vladek tells him. “Keep behind the trees, out of sight. Remember what I’ve taught you. Don’t do anything to give yourself away. If someone stops you, say your mother is very sick.” He eyes me knowingly. “And you need to get her medicine. Don’t be stupid, okay?”

He already is stupid, I think. You’re getting the money, the sex, while he stands watch.

Vladek looks me up and down once again. I get it. I’m not a woman. I’m a commodity. Barter. He starts moving in the opposite direction. “This way.”