Sophie's Choice - William Styron [308]
“I remember thinking: Christ in heaven! My heart always gave a terrible jump and I’d feel this nausea go through me whenever Wanda mentioned guns, or secret rendezvous, or anything having to do with danger or the possibility of being ambushed by the Germans. To get caught helping Jews meant death, you know. I would get all clammy and weak—oh, I was such a coward! I would hope Wanda had not noticed these symptoms, and whenever I had them I would sometimes wonder if cowardice wasn’t another bad thing I inherited from my father. But Wanda was saying, ‘I’ve heard of one of these Jews through the grapevine. He’s supposed to be a very brave type, very competent. He’s desperate, though. There’s some resistance now, but it’s disorganized. He sent a message to our group saying that there’s bound to be a full-scale revolt in the ghetto soon. We’ve had some dealings with others, but this man’s a powerhouse—a mover. I think his name is Feldshon.’
“We waited for a while for the two Jews, but they didn’t come. Wanda told me the guns were hidden in the basement of the building. I went into the bedroom to look at the children. Even in the bedroom the air was so cold it was like a knife, and there was this little cloud of vapor over Jan’s and Eva’s heads. I could hear the wind whistling through the cracks around the window. But this comforter was a huge old Polish comforter filled with goose down and it protected the children in place of heating. I remember praying, though, that I would be able to get some coal or wood for my own place the next day. Outside the window it was so incredibly black, a whole city in darkness. I was just shuddering with the cold. That evening Eva had had a cold and a very bad earache and she had taken a long time to go to sleep. She had been in such pain. But Wanda had found some aspirin, which was very scarce—Wanda could find almost anything—and Eva was asleep. I gave another prayer that in the morning her infection would be gone, and the pain. Then I heard a knock at the door and I went back to the living room.
“I don’t remember the other Jew too well—he didn’t say much—but I do remember Feldshon. He was stocky and sandy-haired and in, I guess, his mid-forties and had these piercing, intelligent eyes. They pierced through you even though they came through these thick glasses, and I remember one lens was cracked and had been glued back. I remember how angry he seemed, beneath the politeness. He just seemed to be seething with anger and resentment, even though his manners were okay. He said right away to Wanda, ‘I won’t be able to pay you now, to reimburse you right away for the weapons.’ I couldn’t understand his Polish too well, it was rather, you know, groping and difficult. ‘Certainly I’ll be able to pay you soon,’ he said in this clumsy, angry voice, ‘but not now.’
“Wanda told him and the other Jew to sit down, and began speaking in German. What she first said was very crude. ‘Your accent is German. You may talk German with us, or Yiddish if you’d care to—’
“But he interrupted her in this angry, irritated way, in perfect German, ‘I don’t need to speak Yiddish! I was speaking German before you were born—’
“Then Wanda very quickly interrupted him. ‘There’s no need for elaborate explanations. Speak German. My friend and I both speak German. You won’t be required to pay us for weapons at any time, particularly not now. These were stolen from the SS, and we wouldn’t want your money under such circumstances. We can use funds, though. We’ll talk about money some other time.’ We sat down. She sat next to Feldshon underneath this dim bulb. The light was yellow and pulsing, we never knew how long it would last. She offered Feldshon and the other Jew cigarettes, which they