Three Sisters (The Tattooist of Auschwitz #3)(7)
‘If only Menachem was here, he would know what to do, how to protect his daughters,’ Yitzchak says, his voice thick with tears.
Chaya, Cibi and Livi look at the old man as he begins to cry. It’s obvious he feels guilty, powerless to protect these girls.
The three women envelope him in a hug.
‘Grandfather, you are the only father I can remember – you have protected me all my life, and I know you will watch over Cibi and me, even when we are not all together. Don’t cry, please, we need you to be here to look after Mumma, and Magda,’ Livi pleads.
‘There is nothing Menachem could have done, if he were still with us, that you haven’t done, Father,’ adds Chaya. ‘You have protected us and kept us safe since he died, you have to believe that.’
For once Cibi has nothing to say. She wipes the tears from Yitzchak’s cheeks, her gesture saying the words she cannot find.
Livi breaks the tension, looking from one member of her family to the other, then back to the kitchen table. ‘Shall I clear the table?’
Yitzchak immediately starts piling the dishes. ‘I’ll do it. You girls get some rest.’
*
Cibi walks into the bedroom, but makes no move to undress.
‘Are you all right?’ Chaya asks from her bed. Livi is curled into her mother’s side.
‘Is there room in there for me? I’d like to sleep with you tonight.’
Chaya pulls the blanket aside while Cibi gets changed, and then the three women draw close, for their last night together. Cibi looks at Magda’s empty bed and can only imagine how angry Magda will be when she discovers she has been left behind. She thinks of the promise to their father, that they would stick together, but what choice do they have?
After her daughters have fallen asleep, Chaya sits up, hugging herself against the chill in the room. The heavy curtains haven’t been drawn tonight and the moonlight throws shards of light onto the faces of her daughters.
*
Small piles of clothes: dresses, sweaters, thick tights and underwear, are heaped onto the beds. Chaya picks up one garment after another, examining it, recalling when it was made or purchased, and then placing it in one of the two small suitcases. They are careful to take only the second best of everything – Chaya has insisted that their good clothes remain hanging in the closet for when they return. Nevertheless, she has been mindful of the clothes her daughters favour. Cibi only ever dresses in skirts and blouses of a single colour – her fashion choices are a source of many tantrums from Magda, forced to wear Cibi’s hand-me-downs, when all she yearns for are pretty, floral dresses with matching scarves. Livi, too, prefers dresses, but more from a practical perspective: two articles of clothing take longer to put on than a single dress – what a waste of time. Three dresses are packed for Livi, with an assortment of scarves to keep her daughters’ wayward hair out of their eyes.
Yitzchak walks into the room juggling small cans of sardines with a cake that is under his arm, the cake Chaya had made to celebrate Shabbat later that day, a Shabbat dinner neither Cibi nor Livi will attend. Moving clothing aside, he places the food on the bed.
‘Grandfather, would you take Livi outside? I’m sure she’d love to take a walk with you. Mumma and I can do this,’ Cibi says.
‘Can’t I help?’ Livi asks.
‘We’ve got this, kitten. You go with Grandfather.’
Livi is struggling with her mother’s sadness and doesn’t argue.
‘Don’t pack any of that cake for me – you know it’s not my favourite. You and Grandfather have it,’ says Livi.
Cibi is devastated to be leaving the Hachshara without telling them where she is going. They will be expecting her back at the camp on Sunday. She thinks of Yosi, his smiling eyes .?.?. how long will she be gone? Palestine will have to wait for now, but she will leave one day, with her sisters, and even her mother and grandfather.
‘Mumma, we need only a few things – not all of this! And we need harder wearing clothes – jumpers in case it’s cold at night, a coat each. Please put those dresses back.’
Chaya finds herself smiling, despite her misery. ‘You are a clever one, my Cibi. I know you will find a way to protect your sister.’ She sighs, then remembers something she’s been meaning to say to Cibi: ‘Please do as you are told when you are away – you have got away with talking back to us your whole life, but I believe that now is not the time for you to speak your mind.’
‘I don’t know what you mean,’ Cibi replies, trying to contain a giggle.
‘I think you know exactly what I am asking of you. Think before you speak, that’s all I’m saying.’
‘Will you be happy if I say I will try my best?’
‘I will. Now, let’s finish packing these suitcases. We need to squeeze in some food.’
‘Surely we’ll be fed!’ exclaims Cibi. ‘We’ll need books, too; I’m going to choose a couple.’ She goes into the living room to examine the books on the shelves there.
‘Bring me some of the linden tree tea to pack; you’ll be able to drink it cold if there’s no hot water,’ calls Chaya. ‘If ever you or Livi are feeling unwell, it’s a miracle.’
Alone in the bedroom now, Chaya again picks up individual items of clothing, burying her face in each, inhaling the all-too familiar scent of her girls. She tells herself that she must be strong: her girls are brave and they will do whatever the Germans ask of them, and then they will come home. Magda will understand why she had to be sent away. The war will end, and life will return to normal. Perhaps even by Hannukah.