His whip raises into the air, falling on her hands with a smack. "You were eating! You are here to work, not fill your filthy faces!" He strikes her again and again. A girl closer to me sneaks a morsel of food while his attention is diverted. Danka folds the clothes in front of her, staring into space. She is far away.
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The whole day this SS man beats us to fold faster and work harder. There is not a minute when we can look for crumbs or candy in the pockets of the clothes.
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I fold a Persian lamb coat. Touching its silky smooth fur, I lovingly reminisce about the last time I touched Persian lamb. Schani had promised me that someday I should have a coat as fine as my aunt's. I fold the sleeves behind the back, remembering how lovely Aunt Regina looked in her fur coat. I fold the front of it slowly over the arms, pulling out the shoulders so it won't wrinkle. The tailor's tag gleams up at me, white satin against the curly black fur. The words
Jacob Schützer, Bardejov
leap off the tag.
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"No. Oh no," I gasp before I am able to quiet myself.
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"What is it, Rena?" Danka comes out of her daze just in time to see that I am folding Aunt Regina's coat.
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Where is the justice in it? Where are they? Where are Cili and Gizzy? Where is Aunt Regina? . . . Where is Uncle Jacob? . . . I cannot bear to stay in this place any longer. Looking outside, across the compound, searching for some relief from the horror in my heart, I see an SS man standing on a ladder. He opens a can, pouring something into a hole, then ducks down quickly as if he's avoiding something that doesn't smell good coming from the can.
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"What's that man doing?" I ask, incredulous.
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"Pouring the gas in," Erna hisses. "Don't watch."
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I can't believe it, but I cannot avert my eyes. The rumors of gas chambers and crematoriums come back to me, plunging me into darkness. They are true? I stare and stare at the proof before my eyes. My aunt and uncle could be in there right now. I can see it but I cannot accept it. What does this mean? That my parents could be in there, too, right now, dying?
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