Strong hands lift me out of the tub before swinging me onto a solid surface. Each touch might as well be blades stabbing through my core. The clothes I was forced to wear are torn frommy body, leaving a freezing dampness behind. The wet, heavy materials fall to the floor, sounding like a body is still inside of them. The exposure to air stings like salt in an open wound, and the time between losing the clothes and feeling a dry sheet of fabric settle over my body feels like an eternity. The aggressive hands return, shoving me around, attacking me from every side.
“You’re going to make it,” she says. “You need to slow down your breaths. One breath every five seconds…” Her last words form in a hush of a whisper. I’ve heard them from her before, but I can’t control the air coming and going from my lungs this time. It’s hard to imagine the hands all over me belong to Emilie. I’ve never known her to have anything but a gentle touch. Yet, the force against me is great enough to push me off this surface. “Help me, Otto!”
“I am,” he replies. “Any more pressure and I’ll end up breaking his bones.”
Weight bears down on top of me and hair flutters over my face, a tickle rather than a piercing sting.
“What are you doing?” Otto shouts.
“He needs more heat,” she grunts in response.
“Maybe you should take your clothes off,” another voice suggests.
The hands that were knocking me around disappear, a breeze left in their place, garnering pinpricks, a thousand at a time on the left side of my body.
Another hand presses against my face. “Danner, can you hear me?” she whispers.
A thud on the floor shakes the table and the sound of wallops against flesh tell me what’s happening to the man who spoke out of turn.
“What are you doing?” Emilie hisses.
“That soldier has served his purpose here,” Otto replies.
“Can you focus on what we’re trying to do right now?” she replies.
“He’s just another volunteer. Why are you so concerned about this one?” another unrecognizable voice says.
“The—uh—post-trial data is imperative for completion of the report on this subject,” Otto says.
It’s hard to tell if he’s trying to protect me or protect himself.
The searing pain begins to subside at a gradual pace, giving me hope that I won’t feel like I’m being mauled by knives soon.I don’t know how long I’ve been pulsating in pain, but my vision is beginning to clarify. Though it feels as though my eyes won’t remain still within my head, I’ll accept the double vision when I spot Emilie.
“Your temperature is rising,” she says, her eyes trying to fixate on me, but with the lines of her forehead dipping between her brows, I can read the concern that says I’m not considered remedied yet. I want to tell her I know why it’s rising. I want to tell her a lot of things. I’ve gotten good at keeping my thoughts to myself though. “How’s the pain level?”
The sharp burn has subsided, just a hair, but enough to convince me the pain will continue to lessen. I’m able to stretch the muscles in my legs, giving me hope that I might regain proper sensation as well. “Nnn-not a-a-s ba-ba-bad,” I stutter, between chattering teeth and a numb tongue.
She places her hand on my cheek and gives me a small smile. “Good,” she whispers. “You’re going to be okay. I’ll make sure of it.”
I knew someone would find themselves the lucky patient left in her caring hands someday. For this one moment that may be short lived, like myself, I can rest knowing my journey was worth something. I’d left everything else behind with a promise to bring my family back together. I failed.
THIRTY
DANNER
ONE YEAR AGO, DECEMBER 1941
Gorzeszowskie Skalki, Poland
Here in the crevice of two mountains, I could convince myself there’s no such thing as war, which might be easier if we hadn’t left people we love behind in Germany. We can’t send letters or make any phone calls. We eat off the land and rely on candles, gas lamps, and firewood—much different to living in a city. However, Mama, David and I are safe here, for now. There’s no saying when or if the SS will find their way through this unpopulated area, but Great-Uncle Igor and Great-Aunt Eunika believe we will remain safe throughout the duration of the war.
After the Gestapo sent us to the German/Polish border, we had no choice but to find refuge or rot with only what we could carry in a suitcase. Mama had her address book, something I wouldn’t have thought of bringing among the few items we could fit. Though we hadn’t spoken to Papa’s aunt and uncle in over a decade, we could only hope they would welcome us into their home.
The three of us walked for days, living on nothing but berries and lake water, and when we arrived in the empty town, we weresure it had been taken over as there were less than a handful of people to be seen as we continued through the valley. Only one of the people knew who our family was and pointed us in the right direction.Our arrival came as a great shock to our long-distance relatives, but thankfully, they took us in without hesitation.We’ve been here just over two years now, and aside from helping with their small land of crops, the few farm animals, and tending to the bee hives, I’ve done little else but try to devise a way to find Papa.
The front door of the cottage opens and slaps shut, wood against wood, echoing between the walls. “I have good news,” Great-Uncle Igor says.
“You found Papa?” David asks, jumping up from the straw woven chair he’s been sitting on.
