The Tattooist of Auschwitz: A Novel by Heather Morris

Author:Heather Morris
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Historical, General, Jewish, Cultural Heritage
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2018-09-04T05:05:43+00:00

14

THE NEXT MORNING, LALE APPEARS IN THE ADMINISTRATION office and approaches Bella at the main desk.

“Lale, where have you been?” Bella says with a warm smile. “We thought something had happened to you.”

“Auschwitz.”

“Ah, say no more. You must be low on supplies—wait here and I’ll stock you up.”

“Not too much, Bella.”

Bella looks over at Gita. “Of course. We need to make sure you come back tomorrow.”

“You know me too well, young Bella. Thank you.”

Bella wanders off to get his supplies, and Lale leans on the desk and stares at Gita. He knows she has seen him come in but is playing coy and keeping her head down. She runs a finger over her lips. Lale aches with desire.

He also notices that the chair next to her, Cilka’s, is empty. Again he tells himself to find out what is happening with her.

He leaves the office and heads over to the selection area, having already noted that a truck has arrived with new prisoners. As he is setting up his table, Baretski appears.

“I’ve got someone here to see you, Tätowierer.”

Before Lale can look up, he hears a familiar voice, no more than a whisper.

“Hello, Lale.”

Leon stands beside Baretski—pale, thinner, stooped, carefully placing one foot in front of the other.

“I’ll leave you two to get reacquainted.” A smiling Baretski walks off.

“Leon, oh my god, you’re alive.” Lale rushes to embrace him. He can feel every bone through his friend’s shirt. He holds him at arm’s length, examining him. “Mengele. Was it Mengele?”

Leon can only nod. Lale gently runs his hands down Leon’s skinny arms, touches his face.

“The bastard. One day he’ll get his. As soon as I’ve finished here, I can get you plenty of food. Chocolate, sausage, what do you want? I’ll fatten you up.”

Leon smiles weakly at him. “Thanks, Lale.”

“I knew the bastard was starving prisoners. I thought he was only doing it to girls.”

“If only that was all it was.”

“What do you mean?”

Now Leon stares directly into Lale’s eyes. “He cut my fucking balls off, Lale,” he says, his voice strong and steady. “Somehow you lose your appetite when they cut your balls off.”

Lale reels back in horror and turns away, not wanting Leon to see his shock. Leon fights back a sob and struggles to find his voice as he searches the ground for something to focus on.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said it like that. Thank you for your offer. I am grateful to you.”

Lale breathes deeply, trying to control his anger. He badly wants to lash out, to take revenge for the crime committed against his friend.

Leon clears his throat. “Any chance I can have my job back?”

Lale’s face floods with warmth. “Of course. Glad to have you back—but only when you’ve regained your strength,” he says. “Why don’t you go back to my room? If any of the Gypsies stop you, tell them you’re my friend and I’ve sent you there. You’ll find supplies under my bed. I’ll see you when I’m done here.”

A senior SS officer approaches.

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