“No, no, I’m—I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have excited you. I’m sorry, son.”
Great-Uncle Igor is known to speak before he thinks through his thoughts, so I’ve gotten better at withholding my reactions to whatever he’s about to say until he says it. He has more hope than any of us combined, and I wish I could borrow some.
“Where have you been, Igor, oy, you’re going to give us all a heart attack one of these days. Calm yourself down,” Great-Aunt Eunika says, throwing her hands up in the air. That’s her typical reaction to much of anything Great-Uncle Igor does. I suppose fifty years of marriage will do that to a couple.
Mama places a teacup down on the handmade, worn wooden table and returns to the wood stove for the kettle of water. “Have some tea, Uncle Igor,” she says.
“I was visiting my friend who lives about an hour south of here in a small village, one still untouched by the Germans.”
“The man you listen to all of the radio broadcasts with?” Great-Aunt Eunika asks. “You haven’t spoken to him in ages. What made you decide to go searching for him?”
“Yes, I know,” he says, shaking his head.
Great-Aunt Eunika folds her arms over her chest, a scowl outlining her lips. “Why didn’t you tell me you were going so far from here?”
“There was no reason to worry all of you. We need to know what’s happening outside this village, dear. Being in the dark won’t help us.”
Great-Aunt Eunika steps up to her husband, standing a head length shorter than him and slaps the side of his head. “You’re a putz, Igor. For God’s sake. Imagine how worried we would be if you didn’t come home? My heart just can’t take this for much longer,” she groans, clutching her chest. “Well, get on with it…what did the man say?”
“He had exciting updates.”
“Igor, what updates? What is it?” Great-Aunt Eunika shouts, losing her temper with him as she often does.
“There was a group of Jewish prisoners in Munich released because of overcrowding issues due to the resistance fighters. The release may only be temporary until another solution comes about, but there may be a chance Abraham was sent home.”
My heart drops to the bottom of my stomach like a heavy rock. “You think Papa might be back at our house in Munich?” I ask.
Igor shrugs. “I can only tell you what I’ve heard. The details are scarce, but what else would they do with these people?”
“What about the concentration camps? Is that where they’re bringing all the Jews now?” David asks, his voice hoarse. We all know about the concentration camps intended for political prisoners, but there have been rumors of Jewish people being sent there too, and assuming that’s where Papa has been weighs heavily on all our minds.
“My good friend’s knowledge does rely on Polish radio waves, but only Polish radio waves, which don’t receive the mostdetailed updates from Germany.” Igor holds his hands out as his eyes fill with a sense of hope. “However, from what he said…the concentration camps are also overpopulated and running out of space. So what else is left for them to do?”
The mere thought of Papa being released and going home to find we’re no longer there, tears through my chest. He would think we’d abandoned him or forgotten about him. After everything he’s been through, most of which I’m not sure I can imagine, I can’t allow that to happen. “I must go home. Somehow, I need to find a way back there to find Papa. Then I’ll bring him here,” I say without a second thought. There’s nothing to consider. If there’s a way to find him, I must.
Mama says, “Danner, that’s absurd. There’s no way you’ll make it across the Polish border. This is impossible. I want to find your father more than anything in this world, but we’re just one family fighting against an entire country. They don’t want us, and they won’t bend rules for you, I assure you of that.”
“There’s a way,” Igor says, pacing the length of the kitchen.
Mama stares at him, her eyes bulging and cheeks burning red. I can see she wants to tell him to stop whatever thought is brewing in his head before he says it out loud, but he knows better than to make eye contact with her when there’s something he wants to say. Mama would protect David and me from everything if she could, but I’m a grown man now and it’s time for me to be making the decisions for what’s best for us.
“What is it?” I ask him.
“Igor,” Mama hisses.
“I don’t like whatever thought is burning through your head,” Great-Aunt Eunika says. “Don’t suggest something you will regret.”
“The man I receive my radio updates from has a brother. He’s a notary with impeccable penmanship. His notary skills haven’tbeen needed much in recent years due to the war, so he has taken up other—eh—jobs, so to say.”
We are all staring at Igor as if he’s telling us the most thrilling story and about to reveal the major twist. “What kind of jobs?” Mama grunts.
“He has been working underground, altering identification cards and passports for many Polish people who need to leave the country. Not one of them have been caught due to their identification.”
Mama places the teakettle down heavily onto a hot plate, clattering the metals against each other. “No,” she says. “No. We have no need for false identifications.”
“Yes, we do, Mama,” I say. “If there’s a chance to bring Papa here, it’s what I must do.”
“I’ll go with him,” David says, a sickening eagerness in his eyes. My stomach burns with the thought, likely the same as Mama is feeling at the mention of just me going through with this.
