Zuzanna slid the loaf under our pillow. Such a gift!
Luiza huddled closer to Matka. “I think I found my greatest talent.”
“Well?” Matka said. “Don’t keep me in suspense.”
Luiza produced a ball of baby-blue yarn from her pocket.
I took it from her hand. “How did you get that?”
She snatched it back. “I traded a cigarette I found in the platz for it. My supervisor says she’s never seen a person knit so fast. I finished two pairs of socks just today. I am no longer assigned to grading rabbit fur. I am only to knit from now on, at the Strickerei.”
The Strickerei was the camp knitting shop, a queer place reserved for the fastest, best knitters. A peek inside revealed women sitting in rows knitting insanely fast, like a film going too quickly through the reel.
I touched her arm. “You know those socks go to the front to warm the feet of German soldiers.”
Luiza pulled away. “I don’t care. When we get out of here, I’m opening a knitting shop with every color yarn and will just knit all day.”
“How wonderful,” Matka said, drawing Luiza near. “That’s bound to be any time now. Surely Papa and others…”
Her gaze flicked to me. Others? Lennart?
“…are working on our release.”
“We were about to play What I’d Bring,” Janina said. It was still strange to see Janina without her flame-red hair. After they’d shaved her bald on our first day at camp, her hair had grown in fine and brown, like the down of a baby sparrow. Many others were allowed to keep their hair, but Binz had made a point of having Janina’s head shaved, since she put up such a fuss about it.
“Matka doesn’t want to play that,” Zuzanna said, her face serious.
“It’s a silly game, but will you play with us?” Janina asked.
“Of course,” Matka said. “If we hurry.” She would do anything to make us happy.
Janina pulled us all closer. “You have to say what you’d bring down Beauty Road.”
Matka tipped her head to one side. “You mean—”
“If it’s your last walk. For example, I’d bring the prettiest pair of the highest high heels. In black calf—no, suede—to walk tall in. Oh, and hair like Rita Hayworth—”
“That’s two things,” Luiza said.
“And a pair of falsies.”
“Janina—” Zuzanna began.
“What? I want to have a chest for once in my life. If I’m going to die, I want to look good doing it.”
Zuzanna leaned in. “I’d bring a box of the best Polish chocolates, every type—vanilla creams, caramels, hazelnut—”
“Stop it,” Janina said. She hated it when anyone talked about food and covered her ears when girls recited their favorite meals and recipes over and over.
Luiza sat up straighter. “I’d bring my knitting. Once Binz saw how beautiful it was, she’d spare me.”
Matka grinned, taking it all in. It was good to see her smile.
It was my turn. I heard a Stubova call to someone from the washroom. She was close by, so I kept my voice low.
“I’d bring a mattress with a giant goose-down comforter and sleep on the way. Binz’s guards would carry me, with Binz herself fanning me with a giant pink ostrich feather.”
Janina stifled a snort-laugh.
“What would you bring?” Zuzanna whispered, still laughing, to Matka.
Matka thought for a long moment looking down at her hands, so long we thought maybe she wouldn’t play after all. When she finally did speak, it was with a queer look on her face.
“I would bring a bouquet of flowers—roses and lilacs.”
“Oh, I do love lilacs,” Luiza said.
“I’d walk with my head high and on the way hand this bouquet to the guards and tell them not to blame themselves for what they did.”
Did Matka not understand the lighthearted aim of the game?
“When we got to the wall, I’d refuse the blindfold and shout, ‘Long live Poland!’ before…”
Matka looked down at her hands.
“I would miss you all very much,” she said with the barest smile.
This serious answer made Zuzanna lose her happy face in an instant. The rest of us lost any laughter we’d had as well, and all became quiet. The thought of this happening was too horrible to dwell on.
We all must have looked about to brim over with tears, so Matka changed the subject.
“The Revier is running much better now—”
“How is the woman doctor?” I said. So many questions and so little time.
“Pleased it’s more organized, but I can no longer allow the sick to linger.” She leaned in and lowered her voice. “Prisoners unable to work