Page 51 of The Pianist's Wife
This time when the train stopped, Fred heard shouting and a commotion outside. After so long in the dark, with only cracks of light coming through, it was as if his hearing was heightened to make up for his lack of sight. When the door slid open, someone yelled at them, and they all moved forward as one, shoulder to shoulder, their feet wet from the human excrement slick across the floor, and he couldn’t help but wonder how the people with no shoes were faring, or the ones who’d simply had socks on. Thesesmall questions kept his mind occupied and stopped him from giving up, from crying out in pain at the desperation of it all.
‘Raus, raus!’Out, out.They shouted it over and over as everyone moved.
Fred kept his eyes half shut, squinting into the light, but it was the cold wind that was even more painful than the brightness. It cut straight through him, and he wrapped his arms around his body to protect himself.
There were people gathered everywhere, and as they walked across the platform and down the ramp, Fred saw the numbers of guards lined up, some of them with snarling shepherd dogs on leashes beside them. He looked away, not wanting to think about what would happen to anyone who stepped out of line. But it also made him think of Otto. The little dog had run off, frightened, when Fred had been taken, and he was grateful that Amira had scooped him up and held him close as he’d been led away. What he wouldn’t give to be at home with her, to feel safe again. Because for the short time they’d been married, he had felt safe, for the first time in so long, and he couldn’t stop thinking about the way she’d screamed for him, fought for him, as he’d been hauled away.
Clearly not moving fast enough, Fred was prodded in the back, and he stumbled before finding his balance again. Someone yelled at them to move faster, and then someone else yelled for them to line up, and Fred moved with everyone else, not wanting to draw any attention to himself.
He could hear the teeth of some of the other transportees chattering, and they stood for what felt like forever as some men walked back and forth, inspecting the new arrivals.
The children were eventually all moved to form a different group, along with obviously pregnant women and older people. Some stood hand in hand, defiant, their heads held high, but mostof the people were either crying or looked to be in shock, barely registering what was happening. Eventually a man, who appeared to be a doctor, came down the line to where Fred stood, and he was asked to open his mouth, before a light was shone in his eyes.
‘Occupation?’
‘Musician,’ he said, not recognising the husky, low voice that came from his mouth.
‘You are not a Jew?’ the doctor said, squinting at him. ‘Political prisoner? Homosexual?’
Fred’s skin felt as if it were on fire, hating the word, wishing he never had to hear it again. But he nodded, and the doctor seemed to immediately lose interest in him, moving on to the next person, but must have given some indication for where Fred was to go, because a guard grabbed him by the shoulder and pushed him, pointing to the group of older people, women and children. He had no idea why he had been selected to go with them, when other men his age where being gathered and marched away, but he kept his head down, not wanting to draw attention to himself. He kept glancing up to see where they were going, and it appeared they were being marched to a concrete building in the near distance.
The selection process went on and on, and Fred estimated that there were maybe five or six hundred people, with more and more humans being escorted on to the platforms from wagons and down the ramps. Some resisted and were hit with batons, one woman had screamed and thrashed so violently upon being separated from her children that she’d been violently beaten and left in a pool of blood for those coming behind her to step over, but most just kept moving forward. They were all too frightened to do anything else.
As he slowly raised his head, he realised that two more trains had arrived, pulling a long row of cattle cars.Full of people.The faded red cars were not full of the heavy animals they’d beenintended for, they were full of people – men, women, children, families. The volume was almost impossible to comprehend.
He lifted his hand to wipe the tears from his eyes as dogs began to bark, as children began to scream in fear.
There were two little girls, identical in looks and with their hair plaited in the same style, dressed in warm coats and leather shoes. Fred couldn’t take his eyes from them, at their utter despair at being ripped from their mother’s arms. She was sent to the right, to Fred’s group, along with a man he presumed was her husband, and the pretty girls were sent left as the doctor smiled, his eyes seeming to light up at the sight of the twins.
But Fred didn’t get the chance to observe any longer, for they were being marched forward again, this time towards trucks. It took a long time for their group to move, much larger than the group that had been directed right, who were walking to the concrete building. He wasn’t sure if he should be relieved or concerned that he wasn’t going with them.
Fred wiped his eyes again as fresh tears appeared, and he looked into the distance, seeing thick plumes of smoke chugging into the sky.I’m sorry, Amira. I’m sorry I promised you that you’d be safe.
When he looked at the sorrowful expressions of those around him, he doubted that he would ever see her or little Otto again.
Fred closed his eyes as the people around him started to panic – there were more people crammed together around him now than there had been in the wagon. The room had seemed large when they were first walking in, but as more and yet more people were forced inside, it no longer felt as if there was space to breathe, let alone move. It had taken what felt like forever but was likely onlyan hour or so for them to be transported to this other building set away from the camp, and there was still no indication of what was to happen next.
The old man beside him was crying, his arms wrapped tightly around himself, and the smell of so many humans huddled together made Fred’s stomach turn. Everyone was naked, everyone had been forced to remove every stitch of clothing. There was nothing left in his stomach though, so even if he’d tried to be sick, he doubted anything would have come out.
‘Halt!’
The voice echoed through the room, and the guard Fred could still see over the heads of those gathered stood to attention. There were whispers among the guards, and someone held up a list.
It was as if the entire room were moving and breathing in unison then, waiting to see what would happen; whether it was necessary to panic, to fight, or to surrender.
‘Are there any skilled labourers present?’ barked the same voice that had called out for a halt. ‘I am looking for skilled men to come with me.’
Me.Fred’s head lifted again as shuffles and murmurs surrounded him. When they’d asked for his occupation, he’d given it truthfully, but he hadn’t always been a pianist.
‘Electrician,’ Fred said, but his throat was so dry the words were barely audible. It had been many years, but he had the strongest sense to call out and declare it. ‘I trained as an electrician!’ he called out, louder this time.
‘Step forward,’ the officer yelled.
‘I am a builder,’ another man said.
Fred made his way forward, as did the other man, but this man held the hand of a small boy, presumably his son.
‘You, out,’ the man ordered Fred. ‘And you.’
