CHAPTER 12
Vranov nad Topl’ou
March 1943
‘I
t’s time, Magda. Get your coat and go.’ Chaya is whispering, careful not to wake Yitzchak from his nap in the armchair.
Magda remains curled up on the sofa, where she has been shifting her focus between the unlit fireplace and her sleeping grandfather.
‘Magda, get up! You have to leave! They will be here soon,’ Chaya repeats, but with more urgency.
‘Why, Mumma? What is the point? They will get me sooner or later, and maybe this way, I can join Cibi and Livi,’ Magda replies, not budging from the sofa.
Chaya retrieves Magda’s coat from its peg by the door and drops it onto her lap. ‘Magda Meller, put this on and head over to Mrs Trac’s. I spoke to her a short while ago and she is expecting you.’
Standing but not moving to put on the coat, Magda looks once more at her grandfather. She can tell he is awake, aware of their exchange. She wonders if he will get involved. Whose side will he be on? But he doesn’t stir.
‘It’s been nearly a year, Mumma. We can’t keep on living like this. Look around you, we have so little left to sell, at what point do we give up? When there are no chairs to sit on? No beds to sleep in? All of it gone for a loaf of bread!’
‘They have taken two of my daughters and I will not let them have you. I still have some jewellery to sell but, right now, I need you out of the house. It is just for one night.’
‘I’ll go this time,’ says Magda, finally, pulling on her coat. ‘But can you please ask Uncle Ivan if he has any more news?’
‘I will. Now, off with you.’
Magda kisses her mother on the cheek, before kissing her grandfather lightly on the head. ‘I know you’re awake,’ she whispers.
Opening his eyes, he smiles, his eyes locking onto Magda’s. It breaks her heart.
‘Good girl, you must always do as your mother asks. Now, run along.’
Standing and stretching, Yitzchak joins Chaya at the window as Magda opens the door, checking left and right for Hlinka guards before she trips down the path, steps onto the street and then runs to the house directly opposite.
As the neighbour’s door closes behind Magda, Chaya drops the curtain.
‘I will get us something to eat,’ she says.
‘I’m not hungry, you eat,’ says Yitzchak. ‘I’ll have some linden tea, if we have any left.’
*
Mrs Trac has been looking out for Magda. She knows the Hlinka Guard will soon come looking for any remaining Jewish girls and boys. They come on Shabbat, when they know all the Jewish families will be at home. Her own children, now adults and living in Bratislava, are protected by their Roman Catholic faith. How they chastised their mother when they heard she had been hiding Magda in the house; her faith will not protect her if she is caught hiding a Jew.
‘Hurry, my dear, they could knock on my door at any moment. I have put a little bread and cheese up there for you.’
‘Thank you, Mrs Trac, you didn’t have to do that, but thank you. I don’t know how we can ever repay you for taking such risks for my family.’
‘You can repay me by staying alive and punishing those who would hunt you down. Now, it’s time to hide.’
Pausing just long enough to give her neighbour a warm hug, Magda hurries to the chair in the narrow hallway, above which is a small trapdoor. She pulls it open and climbs into the small space beyond. After that, she pulls herself up into the ceiling cavity.
The light from the hallway illuminates a plate of bread and cheese. Magda knows from experience that as soon as the trapdoor is back in place, she will be in pitch-black darkness. She quickly notes the blankets and pillow nearby, where she will lie in wait until she hears the familiar tap from below to tell her to come down, the next morning. She hears the sound of the chair scraping along the wooden floor as Mrs Trac drags it back to the kitchen. She hopes it hasn’t left any telltale marks leading straight to her hiding place.
A short while later, Magda hears a loud banging at the front door and a voice telling Mrs Trac to ‘open up’。
The squeaking of the front door tells Magda that Mrs Trac is now face to face with some Hlinka guard.
‘Is there anyone else in the house with you, Mrs Trac?’ a guard asks.
‘Laszlo, you know my son and daughter now live in Bratislava with their families. Why would they be here?’
‘We have to ask, you know that. Do you mind if we come in and have a look around?’
‘And if I did mind, would that stop you?’ a defiant Mrs Trac fires back.