I was disoriented, without a plan in mind as I hurried surreptitiously on a darkened street away from the police station I had just escaped. How to explain what had just happened? Why had Rembocha and his henchmen—the same cruel thugs who had so casually and heartlessly gunned down Izzie and the others—apparently allowed me to escape?...
Quotes from this chapter
There was a lane with a row of small houses there. I knew the first house on the corner was that of Voyke the Nachsteller, who drove a wagon for luggage at the depot.
We owed it to our martyred loved ones—and to all the murdered Jews of Skala—to make it through alive.
Instead of greeting me as the son of a friend, Dymchuk flew into a rage, chasing me away with curses and an admonishment to never come back.
I remember that pot with its braided wire handle because during the following weeks Olenka handed it to me many times—always filled with a double-thick layer of her delicious mamaliga.
“Noch eyn tog,” he said over and over. “One more day. Maybe this madness soon will be over.”
I must have been looking at him in amazement. “What, you didn’t know the Russians are coming? It is true. The Germans are beaten—kaput.”
Tateh opened the hidden hatch and I saw that there were several large storage compartments inside, originally a larder for food staples and storage for kitchen supplies.
Looking through the half-shaded window I could see two men sitting inside with Viktor, one in a familiar shabby captain’s uniform. It was Rambocha, apparently alerted by Viktor and lying in wait.
Book excerpts about the people, places and events mentioned in the book
Ukrainian police official who brutalized Jews
Munye's closest companion in the bunkers
Ukrainian mayor of Skala who "safeguarded" Jewish valuables
In-town hideout of Munye, Shulem and Lonye
Polish border town where Michael was born and experienced his ordeal