Chapter Four
My mother and I were alone in a sea of strangers. Strangers they were, but somehow I considered them all my family. My kind. We all had two things in common: we were all women, and we were all Jews. My heart ached for both myself and the group of hapless women in which were now my new companions in this dark corner of the world.
Worry for my father and brother began to gnaw at me as we were all ordered to form a line. We marched across the terrain of Auschwitz for five minutes, then were ordered to a stop in front of a small but well-built cabin, no doubt that housed some of the more important soldiers. We were ordered to stand shoulder to shoulder while a man walked out of the cabin. He stood in front of us while the man that led us here and about five other soldiers stood behind him.
The man was very tall, and rather handsome. He was no more than six years older than me, and he had the eyes of a man capable of causing great pain. He had a number of badges and pins on his tan uniform, so he was obviously high ranking. A high ranking pig. He looked at all of us as if we were things in a store to be bought, as if we were not actual human beings but toys for his amusement. I grabbed my mother's hand reflexively, because I was afraid of this man.
"I am looking for a maid to do various chores at my house," he said calmly, as if telling a joke. There was the undercurrent of cruelty in his voice that made my knees turn weak from fear. "Of course, you will not be paid," he said with a laugh, and the others laughed along with him. Humiliation and hate clouded my brain. "But you are expected to live in my house, for I require 24 hour service. Lodgings and food will be provided, and it is much better than living here. Not that you'll have a choice," he finished, still with that calm voice with a hint of laughter and meanness.
My heart lept with hope. I had a chance of getting out of here. As long as I did the chores that this man asked, I would have a warm bed to sleep in and food to eat. Immediately, I was ashamed of myself. What about my mother? How could I just leave her here to face this hell alone? My previous thoughts sickened me. Had I really changed so much? So fast?
I felt my mother squeeze my hand, and I looked at her. We always had a way of communicating without saying words, and I saw that in her eyes she wanted me to be safe. "If he offers, take the job," she whispered, so quietly that no one else could hear. I smiled gratefully at her, and thought that she must be the best mother in the world.
My thoughts were interrupted by the man's perplexing voice. "Whoever can read, step forward," he said loudly. I had learned to read when I was five, so I stepped forward. Here was my chance.
Mostly all the women stepped forward, except for my mother, a few younger girls, and about three other women. The man surveyed us all, then conducted his next order.
"Whoever can sew, step forward." I learned to sew when I was eight, so I stepped forward along with six other women. My heart began to beat faster.
"Whoever can clean an entire house within a half hour, step forward." I stepped forward, for I was always cleaning my entire house from top to bottom before the war. I can do this, I thought. There were five of us left, all standing together in a line. It was his time to choose.
As he approached us, I held my head up high, trying to appear confident. Don't let them see your fear, I said to myself, banishing my fear away. He eyed us scrupulously. I turned my head to my left, where the other four were lined up beside me. There were three older women, and a girl no older than thirteen who looked like she might faint at any moment. He inspected all of them, then finally came to where I was standing. My heart hammered in my chest.
We locked eyes, his brown eyes meeting my blue ones. I didn't look away. He examined my face, and I turned bright red under his scrutiny. He looked at me as if he were looking at a piece of furniture he was considering to buy.
His voice cut at the air like shards of glass. "What's your name, girl?" he asked sharply. I had a sudden urge to spit in his face. I swallowed harshly and said, "Lisbet Sobbell, sir." My voice rang out very loud and very confident. It was extremely different from what I was feeling. I was careful to use the word "sir", not to anger him by being disrespectful.
"You're very pretty," he said in a whisper, more to himself than to me. He seemed to resent this, wanting to insult me but not knowing how. I said nothing, hating this man but nonetheless wanting to work for him.
He suddenly turned around and addressd the rest of his men. "I choose this one. Take the rest and bring them to the barracks," he barked at them, his voice no longer calm. I locked eyes with my mother, and I gave her a look that said I would try to see her soon.
"Follow me." the man said, even more sharply before. He led the way with me behind him until we reached a clean, new-looking car that was located behind the cabin. My heart pounded even harder in my chest. "Get in," he said, with a trace of cruelty in his voice. "And try not to touch anything. I don't want your Jew filth all over my new car."
I suddenly regretted this very much.
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