Chapter four

"Christina, my child, I'm so glad to see you, I've been waiting for you, and I made a potato stew and some lard I got from one of my patients."

Violette paled; she never ate pork. Although her parents are secular but perhaps due to tradition, they did not eat pork at home. Zosia arranged the table a little to look festive; she spread a white sheet on the wooden table and lit the fireplace with twigs she had collected in the woods. Violette sat down at the table and looked at the plate in front of her, "What happened, my child? Are you not hungry?"

Violette feared that her Judaism would be revealed and stuck the spoon into the stew and put a decent portion in her mouth. "Well, how does it taste?" Zosia looked at her with an amused look.

"Maybe she's trying me; the villagers are known to be as cunning as a fox," the thought went through her mind. She swallowed the pulp she held in her mouth and hurriedly stuck the spoon in the stew again. "Really delicious; I have no words in my mouth to thank you for the warmth and love I receive in your home, that the good God will reward you for your kindness and return your son safely to your home."

Zosia crossed herself and got up to hug Violette, "Oh my child, I so longed for a daughter to be by my side in my old age; maybe God heard my prayers and sent you to me because he knows I can not give birth at my advanced age."

Violette smiled at her, "God's ways are mysterious."

When they lay down to sleep in the narrow bed, thoughts came to Violette's head. The visits to Warsaw and Paris where she traveled as a girl to accompany her gifted musician father. She has swept away in the whirlpool of these thoughts until she fell asleep.

The next morning when she woke up, Zosia was no longer in bed. She got up and washed her face in the cold water, poured herself a cup of tea from the steaming kettle that stood on the hot stove, but even when she went out into the yard, she did not see Zosia and began to wonder where she had gone.

As usual, she wanted to go down to the creek to get fresh water but could not find the two buckets, so she deduced from this that Zosia had gone by herself and therefore decided to go down to the creek to help her carry the buckets.

As she approached, she heard a murmur from the tall bushes that grew from the two banks of the creek. She approached and moved the vegetation a little to see the source of the noise, which now clearly sounded like sighs of pain. She noticed a figure who fled the scene but did not see his face. As she approached, she noticed Zosia's feet which she recognized by her brown leather shoes. Zosia lay down with her dress rolled up and her underwear torn. Her face was scratched, and her eyes were wide open.

"Oh Moie Boze, dear Zosia" she supported her head and tried to lift it, but her head dropped back. She put her ear to her chest but did not hear her heart beating. She noticed blue marks on her neck and realized the rapist had strangled her.

She left the lifeless body by the creek and returned home, took some warm clothes folded in a box, rolled them around a sausage that hung in the pantry, and headed towards the village on the way to the marked tree. She dug up the undamaged certificate. She went into the woods and changed into her borrowed clothes. Then went into the depths of the forest in an attempt to bypass the village without being discovered.

For many hours Violette walked in the woods until it began to get dark. She started looking for a hiding place ahead of time and felt secure with Bozena's certificate in her hand, wearing the rural clothes disguising her roots. Violette memorized her new name, her date of birth, and the village's name. She took a bit of leaves dust between her fingers and rubbed the picture to blur the face after weaving her hair in braids like the country girl's way. She ate some of the Kielbasa and fell asleep.

When she woke up, it was already daylight, and the cricket choir deafened her ears. She got up and started walking along the creek as the forest hid her from exposure.

She heard the sound of aircraft engines approaching from a distance until she saw them pass over her head. Six heavy aircraft flew in a group, apparently on their way to bomb a village or town. Violette did not know where she was going; she wanted to get away from the village from which she had left, not to be accused of stealing the certificate or causing the death of the only woman who showed her compassion and affection.

She decided to go down to the creek and rest a bit; she was thirsty and tired from the exhausting walk. As she approached the stream, she noticed a man standing with a sheet on his shoulders and swaying strangely. She approached until he noticed her.

"Chwala Boga," she said, the way the peasants greeted.

He looked at her and mumbled something. She now noticed that he had a small book in his hand, and he looked to her like a praying Jew.

"I hope I'm not interrupting; I'll just drink some water and be on my way," she said.

"Where are you from?" He asked.

"I'm from Maluszyn; my parents were killed," she replied.

"Are you a Jew?"

"No, I'm Polish. My parents were executed because they hid Jews."

"Come with me," he told her.

They entered the thickness of the forest. She followed him without fear. He was thin with a beard, her father's age, she estimated.

After a short walk, she saw more figures in the distance. "Is that you, Yankel? And who is with you?"

She understood little of the Yiddish; she spoke German at home, the language she grew up in Austria.

Two men with guns in their belts approached and turned to her. "Where did you come from?"

Yankel, the man who brought her, told them in their language that the Germans had murdered her parents for hiding Jews. One of them shook his head as if doubting it. "We did not hear of any Akcja (Action) that took place in Maluszyn; maybe she invented it."

Violette pulled out the certificate and opened it for him. "Can you read?"

She was afraid to admit her Judaism because she had no idea about the Jewish holidays or prayers to prove it to them.

"Do you speak German?" He asked her.

"No, I can barely speak Polish; I also have difficulty reading," she replied.

An argument broke out between the three men. Violette realized that the discussion was about her. "I'll make it easy for you and keep going; at least let me sleep here tonight," she asked.

The three reached an agreement. "Come with us."

When they entered deeper into the forest, she discovered several huts; there were mostly men. Most of them bearded and wearing caps, two young women engaged in food preparation were also wearing headscarves.

Violette suddenly felt a sense of calmness and security filling her; she felt a sense of belonging to the people she was lying to about her origins.

Reflections came to her, but she decided not to confess to them as long as they posed no danger to her.

"I am Sara Beila; what's your name?" Asked one of the women, busy with preparing the food.

"I am Bozena," Violette replied, "I am from the village of Maluszyn."

"You can stay with us; we need working hands."

"Where are you from? How did you get to the forest?" Violette asked her.

"We are from Radom Kielce area, there was a pogrom and Jews were murdered by Poles, we heard that Jews were being taken to labor camps, no one has yet returned from there, so we do not know what is going on there."

"In the woods, I met a group of rural Poles," said Violette.

"Beware of them; there are gangs of murderous thieves who have escaped to the forest; they catch fugitives and kill them to rob them. There is also the Krajowa Army; they do not kill Jews but are also unwilling to accept Jews to their lines; they are partisans fighting the Germans.

"I want to join the partisans and help with what I can," Violette said.

One of the men suddenly appeared and grabbed Violette's hand. "Come with me. Women are always croaking like chickens while we're hungry." He pulled her toward the huts where they lived. "my name is Isadore, and I am a violinist, appearing at weddings and bar mitzvahs. Now, this damn war made me hide in the woods like an animal."

After showing her a corner inside the cabin, he left her to rest and get organized. "We'll call you when we sit down to eat," he said before leaving.

Violette lay down on the straw mattress; she felt the sore muscles of her legs, her back, and the wound in her arm that refused to heal and got infected from time to time, worried her.

"Bozena, come and eat," she opened her eyes and got up. She saw above her the flushed face of Sara Beila, who had come to call her.

"I'm coming," she told her in a weak voice; she was not yet used to her new name and was afraid to be confused by all the characters she changed.

As they all sat at the makeshift table, the two women brought tin bowls with a hot stew spread a delicious aroma. Some of the men prayed before the meal. "We are believers," Sara Beila apologized to her.

"I too believe in God; we are all human beings, we were born equal, and there is nothing to apologize for."

"Not all of us here believe; some of us abandoned religion and joined in Zionist movements, striving to reach Palestine and settle there."

Violette was well acquainted with the subject on which Sara Beile spoke. Her father's uncle was David Wolfsohn, Benjamin Zeev Herzl's deputy, ideologist of Zionism, and author of the book Altneuland whose ideas she grew up within the Zionist home of her musician father, Juliusz Wolfsohn. Nevertheless, she decided not to show knowledge on the subject. "Palestine? Is it in Africa?"

Everyone burst out laughing, "Don't laugh; she's from the village, a Shiktze." Yankel said.

Evening fell, most of them dispersed in the huts, the women took care of cleaning the dishes and pots, two sturdy men with guns in their belts took up a guard position, they put out the smoldering coals. The nocturnal sounds of the forest began to make their voices heard. Violette sat on a log and listened to the cricket choir competing with the frog one, to their monotonous singing.

She closed her eyes and recalculated her trajectory. "How do I get to New York? There must be a way for me to reunite with my parents. They must be suffering because they have no information about me and no way to contact me."

Suddenly one of the two guards sat next to her. "I'm Tobias; I know your name," he said.

"Now I know your name too," she replied.

"Who are you afraid of? The Germans will never go into that depth of the forest," she said.

"I'm not afraid of the Germans; I'm worried about the Poles; if they find us, they will call a few dozen of their collaborators and will eliminate us. In the forest, we discovered several mass graves; they must have been Jews; we found holy books dispersed around the graves."

Violette raised her head to the sky and prayed silently.

After a few days in the company of the young Jews, Violette decided that she should continue. She estimated that the war would last a long time and did not think of passing all this time as a hunted animal in the woods.

She informed the group members of her decision. Yankel approached her and hugged her. "If all Poles were like you, we would fight shoulder to shoulder against the Nazis; unfortunately, we have to defend ourselves from both Nazis and Poles."

Then Sara Beila approached her. "Are you sure you want to move in the woods alone? Stay with us; I believe it will not last long."

Violette thanked everyone and continued on her way. She figured that she would reach Czestochowa or maybe further afield if she went west for a few days.