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Chapter 4: In Limbo
As if the day began at the moment when she realized she was left alone although people were coming and going around her. She could never recall, later on, how it came about that she was sitting in that strange waiting room.
She was sitting on the same chair for hours, waiting, but not knowing what she was waiting for. People glanced at her occasionally, a small girl looking even smaller by sitting motionless with her feet not reaching the floor, her arms close to her body holding onto her hands, taking up the least possible space.
It was a small room. People entered through the door on one of the longer walls, and there was the door to the inner office on the opposite wall. The space between the two doors, on both sides, were taken up by an assortment of old, wooden chairs. There was a dirty, blindless window to the left of the entrance. She occupied the last chair on the long wall in the corner opposite the window and across the door of the inner office.
She recognized the man who, at times, came out of the private office to ask one of the waiting people inside. He was the husband of her Cousin Bozsi. She hardly knew her cousin who was a big woman with a loud voice. She was very stylish, heavily perfumed, the make-up on her face colourful, her large body laden with heavy pieces of expensive jewellery. Everything about her was too much and too big. She had a habit of talking a lot, making fun of herself such a way that it sounded like adulation. People thought her words funny and she never failed to get the attention she was seeking, even though the subject was always herself. Her husband, in contrast, was a tall, skinny, very quiet man who seldom talked and, then, only in whispers. He wore dark three-piece suits and looked frightfully respectable. Uncle Guszti was a very affluent, influential man, and all the relatives were in awe of him. She could tell by the way everyone was trying hard to catch the whispers when he talked. The few times the girl had met him she was terrified that some day he might say something to her and she wouldn't hear it; hence offending the great man. But it had never happened. He simply ignored her as he did now. Sitting here in the outer office she wondered if her Uncle would recognize her at all. He never even glanced in her direction when he came to the door of his office. He was wearing one of his dark blue three-piece suits, just the way she remembered him. She was wondering, fleetingly, why she was left there early in the morning. She was told to wait for Uncle Guszti. So she was waiting. There was no point in being worried, or even trying to guess what might happen next. She was becoming very good at keeping her mind blank and vacant of disturbing thoughts. And she was getting better at it. It would have been too scary to think that she was left there to try to catch Uncle Guszti's attention.
The room slowly filled with people. They could have been the members of the same family, they looked so akin, all with grey unhappy faces, wearing dark, wrinkled clothes as if they had slept in them or didn't sleep at all, wearing the hateful Yellow Star. Labelled undesirable. They waited in silence, not speaking to each other, confronting their own problems in their personal silence behind unseeing eyes. There were more people than chairs, and the girl, remembering her manners, offered her seat to a woman. It was accepted with a nod, and she joined the silently standing people along the window.
The
Jewish Council was besieged by desperate relatives of the mobilized
men
and women... although the Jewish Council leaders were given a hard
time
by the officials they contacted, they managed, together with the
International
Red Cross and the neutral powers, to bring about the release
of
many Jews who were totally unfit for labour or who held foreign safe-conduct
passes.
R.L.Braham, The Politics of Genocide
Those who came out of the inner office were all grim faced, but seemed very grateful. Either each had a cold or else they were all crying, handkerchief in one hand shaking the great man's hand with the other. He came to the door of his office with each person, giving them a little push on the shoulder to help them through the door faster. He was whispering and smiling at them, but his smile seemed pasted on his face and his eyes were cold and indifferent.
It was cold in the room without heat. The dirty snow melted off the wet shoes of the waiting people but congealed under the chairs mixed with the dust and dirt.
The light was fading outside, she could see it through the window. There was a thick layer of greasy grey dust on the windowpane, so thick that the falling rain could not wash it clean but rolled down in large, greasy drops. Strangely there were no air raids all day, but they'll come, as it was getting dark. The air raids have been more frequent lately. Where would the shelter be in this building?
The crowd was thinning out and she was sitting again, vaguely wondering what was going to happen and trying hard not to fall asleep so she would be ready. She didn't have anything to eat all day and she needed to use the bathroom, but she didn't know where to find one. And she was cold. Lately, she was always cold and tired.
There was only one other person left waiting, the crowd of people was gone. Jews had a curfew, they had to be indoors by the time it got dark. How else could the Yellow Star be seen on their chest?
The last person, a lady with red, cried out eyes went in. It didn't take long before she came out with Uncle. Her eyes were wet and even more red than before. And they were both looking at her.
They came over to where she was sitting and Uncle Guszti said something from his six feet height that she could not hear. Her mouth was dry and she just wanted to disappear. Uncle repeated his words, and luckily, the lady extended her hand as to help her off the chair. Uncle left them without another word, and closed his office door behind him.
The stranger was a very sad lady. She kept holding the girl's hand as they walked through the now dark city. She kept her purse such way that the Star of David wasn't visible on her coat, although covering it up was against the law. Woman and child walked without talking. They were both tired. They walked in quiet, the Lady holding the hand of the sleepy child. She was very tired, but she became watchful as they turned into a familiar street. Then to a familiar building. The house she had left just that morning; 95 Kiraly Street. The dark doorway usually terrified her when she had to go up alone to her Aunt Serena's apartment. This time, at least, a hand was guiding her trough the darkness. The huge, heavy wood doors of the building were open and there was the usual deep darkness as they stepped inside. The lady took off her shoes and signalled to keep quiet.
The building had the customary lay-out of most buildings in Budapest. It had the square courtyard, and the corridors running along the same shape on each storey one above the other. You could look down on the central courtyard from any point.
They stole up to the fourth floor without a sound. The only light came from the badly fitting blackout shades of the caretaker's windows. There was no other sign of life in the building. She could see the windows of her Aunt's apartment she had left just that morning. The black-out shades were not put on, and there was no light inside. There had been older women and children still left in the building that morning. Where did everyone disappear?
They stopped front of a corner apartment. The lady wasn't crying any more, she was looking for her keys. The girl didn't remember seeing her in the building before. The keys dropped on the stone. The noise cut into the silence of the shadowy building. She was pushed against the wall, and they were waiting. No other sound.
The dark, quiet house with its unlit windows seemed unreal. Some light came from the murky sky as the clouds raced by. A square patch of sky above the square shaped courtyard. Inside the apartment the darkness was complete. Holding the child's hand the Lady slowly made her way across he hall and opened a door. The outline of some furniture was barely visible. She gently pushed the child onto a bed and helped her to take off her coat. " I'll be back shortly," she whispered, and left her in the dark. The child was tired, and confused. She could make out a teddy bear as her night vision improved, this room belonged to a child. The teddy was quite large and was carefully seated on some sort of a shelf. She couldn't see what the other things on the shelf were, and she was so very tired.
Her body won out, and she dozed off. She came to with a start as the Lady was removing her shoes. The Lady held her hands on the way to the bathroom, but she didn't let her flush. The pipes would carry the sound, she said. Her tired body gratefully succumbed to the downy bed. "Lets get some rest, before we go," the Lady softly said as she removed some of her clothing and covered her up.
She was wide awake now. Where will they have to go to? And when?
She was going to make sure that she would not fall asleep again. Perhaps in the middle of the night the Lady would leave, too. She guessed they couldn't hide here for long. She thought it was still early at night and waited for the big bang the front doors would make when the janitor locked them. She used to hear them in her Aunt's apartment on the second floor, as they were banged closed. She would sleep then. All doors in the city were locked up for the night, and people had to ring and get the janitor out of bed if they wanted to come in or go out after that. Except the Jews. There was no going out for them.
She was still fighting sleep when the Lady had begun dressing her. She was crying again, softly. But now, the child had the feeling she was crying for her. It was even darker in the apartment than it had been before. She could use the bathroom again, but not flush. They didn't go near the kitchen with its windows to the courtyard.
The Lady opened the doors of a large wardrobe that was standing in the hall and took out a coat. "This would keep you warmer than your own. I think it will fit." she said, her tears coming uncontrollably, dropping on the head of the child. Where is the child the coat had belonged to? The coat was a little too big on the girl's skinny frame, but warmer than her own spring coat...from long ago.
Just before they left the dark hallway, the Lady put something in the child's hand. "Take this," she said, "it will not be needed here."
The child hugged the doll tightly as they retraced their earlier steps to the exit. With one hand she was holding the hand of the stranger and with the other hugging the doll. She could feel the stone steps worn out in the middle as they very slowly descended. The only sound they could hear was the sound of their own feet crashing the clumps of dried dirt. The sound seemed too loud not to be heard and time to time the Lady stopped and listened to the eerie quiet of the dark building.
The doors were still open. There was more light outside from the cloudy skies. The rain turned to snow and it became cold and slippery. They kept close to the buildings as they walked. The streets were deserted, the city in darkness. She had noticed the Lady had removed her Jewish Star and she was carrying a small bag.
She was wondering about the doll. Who it might have belonged to. She allowed herself a fleeting thought about her own dolls, in that other life, the dolls that stayed in their original boxes, because she never liked to play with them. She could never think of anything that she could do with those lifeless useless things, always wearing the same stupid smile on their faces, even when there was nothing to smile about. They were not needed, there was Gyurika.
But this doll wasn't a play doll. This doll could be company. This was a sad doll with a history, a past. The child felt they have something in common. They needed each other, this doll was alone, too. She decided to call her Doll, and not by a proper name of a person.
It was a long, cold walk. They seemed to be the only ones out there. The odd times they could hear the patrols, they stopped and hid in the darkness of a doorway. It was difficult to walk trying to avoid the rubble from the partially or completely demolished buildings, or the twisted tracks of the streetcars. There were places where they could only walk in the middle of the street. When the clouds parted the burnt out buildings stared back at them, sightless, darker than the night itself, with their windows empty in their sockets, blackened from the fire that consumed their wooden frame. There were black, ghost-like shapes on these buildings carelessly drawn by the fire of the window frames, each different but threatening in their vividness, cloaked in colourful tone-on-tone black. Signs were hanging unbalanced from some store-fronts pounding against the buildings to the rhythm of the wind. They tried avoiding the broken glass under their feet which scraped their shoes and flew up in the air to fall and scatter some more.
They were walking a long time, and the Lady must have been tired, too, because she was walking slower. The mist was getting heavier as they were approaching the Danube. The outline of the bridge didn't become visible in the fog until they were almost upon it. The cold wind reached her skin layer by layer and she didn't think her new coat was any more of a protection than the old one was.
They were well into their crossing the bridge to Buda, the wind pushing them from all directions, when from behind them, through the howl of the wind came other, much more frightening sounds.
The wailing and screaming of frightened people and, even more loudly, the harsh voices of solders yelling their orders came on the wings of the wind. It kept following them in their flight, not ceasing, but propelling their feet to a sudden run. The unexpected panic of the adult communicated itself to the child as her hand was gripped more tightly. She heard the Lady praying, "Shma Yisroel." Then several shots were fired behind them. They half turned, not slowing their speed as they heard the bodies hit the icy water amidst the screaming, crying, and cursing. The curtain of heavy fog was kind. They hurried on, woman and child, in the abrupt silence that followed.
The building where the Lady finally stopped was a low structure, much like the others around, but lower than the buildings were in Pest. 46 Donati Street. The Lady took a long, sad look at the child, and said, "I have to go before they open the door. Don't tell them your full name. Just Gittle. G-d be with you." With that, she stroked the child's head lightly, and rang the bell. Then she was gone. The child heard the bell ring within, and waited. And waited. No one came. She thought of ringing the bell again, but she couldn't think of what to say she wanted.
The narrow steps, in front of the entrance, were made of stone. There was a crevice in the center of each one from long years of use. After a while, when she was quite sure there was no response to the bell, she sat down on the steps, positioned her body into the curve in the middle and leaned against the wooden door with her back to escape the icy feel of the stone doorframe.
She held Doll close but it felt cold and she resented its cold body. She put her hands up in the opposite side of her coat's sleeves, and resigned herself to waiting. As she was gazing out into the darkness ahead of her, she slowly became aware of a human form near by. There were no houses across the street, but there was a large space of some sort instead, perhaps a park, and in the middle of it stood a very tall, dark figure. She held her breath. The figure didn't move either. They were staring at each other, through the darkness and the fog, each motionless. The only sound was the wind moving the rubbish around. Some time passed before the girl allowed herself to believe that the motionless figure was, in fact, a statue. Then she closed her eyes tightly, and shut out the world.
The bellowing of the sirens that announced the approaching bombers cut into the silence. Almost the same time she could hear bombs falling, their shrill, whistling sound filled the air before they hit their target with a dull thump.
They were far away, and she didn't open her eyes to watch the play of searchlights in the dark sky. She had heard it said, that if you can hear the bomb whistling it won't be you it'll hit. These were pounding the ground far enough. The first planes left, and others came. The noise offended her senses and she retreated deeper into her own quiet. Her body was numb with cold, it penetrated her skin and was seeping into her bones. After a while she was no longer miserably cold, in fact, she thought she was warming up. She didn't hear the sirens sounding the "all clear".