Mindel turned her attention to the mass of bodies passing by the fence. A while ago there had been newcomers every once in a while, but recently it happened almost every day – although never such frightful creatures as today.
“Children, come inside, it’s getting cold,” Mother Brinkmann called and herded them back into the barracks. Her husband was waiting inside the hut for the daily class.
In the beginning Mindel had enjoyed the classes, because she’d learned to write her name with her finger in the dust. But lessons were so awfully boring and she was always so tired, her head wouldn’t follow Herr Brinkmann’s lessons, and then she got scolded for disrupting the class.
Today, though, she took the opportunity and asked him the question Laszlo hadn’t wanted to answer. “What is a planet?”
Herr Brinkmann smiled and began to explain about the earth circling the sun together with other orbs like Mars or Venus. It didn’t make sense.
“Why do people from other planets come to our camp? Don’t they know how awful it is?” she asked.
“Who told you this?” Herr Brinkmann asked.
“Nobody.” Mindel bit her lower lip and stared at the ground, afraid to make herself look foolish if she said more. But the issue gnawed at her and the next morning she sneaked off to visit Hanneli. The older girl was clever and knew even more than Laszlo did.
“Mindel, what a surprise! How are you?” Hanneli greeted her.
Mindel shrugged. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Sure.”
While she recounted the happenings from the day before, Laura settled beside them. As Mindel ended her story, both of the girls laughed.
“They are no aliens. Those people come from a camp much worse than this one,” Hanneli said.
“Worse than this?” Mindel didn’t think this was possible, but why would Hanneli lie to her?
“Yes, it’s called Auschwitz, and there, they send people up through the chimney,” Laura said, earning her a stern glare from Hanneli.
Mindel drew her brows together, asking, “What does that mean?”
“Nothing. Laura is just being stupid,” Hanneli said in a tone that brooked no argument. A tone Mindel knew all too well. Grown-ups always used it when they had decided she was too young for something. From experience she knew there was no way of coaxing the older girls into telling her, so she shrugged again and decided to ask around later.
“By the way, yesterday a woman came asking for you,” Hanneli said.
“For me?” Mindel had no idea who’d want something from her.
“Yes, apparently there was a patient in the infirmary who might be your sister.”
“Rachel? Why didn’t you tell me? Can we go see her?” Mindel hopped up and down with excitement.
“We don’t know if the person asking for you really was your sister. Unfortunately, when we went to see her, she’d already been transferred back to the Women’s camp,” Laura said and Mindel broke out in tears, unable to contain her disappointment. She’d been so close to finding Rachel, and now she was gone – again.
“Hey, don’t cry.” Hanneli wrapped an arm around her. “This is good news. Now we know your sister is alive.”
“But…Laura…said…it’s not sure,” Mindel sniffed.
Hanneli glared angrily at Laura and rocked Mindel on her lap. “We are sure. She’s alive, and she’s looking for you. That’s a good sign. As soon as she can, she’ll come looking for you again.”
“Can we send her a message?” Mindel asked on a hopeful note.
“That’s a good idea. The nurse can give your note to a patient from the Women’s camp.” Even though Hanneli made it sound like an easy task, Mindel sensed the hesitation in her voice. But she wouldn’t let this deter her from her plan. “We need pen and paper. And then you write a note for me, will you?”
Hanneli nodded and together they entered the barracks to scrounge for a piece of paper. The camp children collected anything and everything they could get hold of, and they soon found someone willing to exchange a scrap of paper for two rusty nails Mindel carried in her pocket.
“I almost forgot,” Hanneli said. “This Rachel says your last name is Epstein, is this right?”
Mindel furrowed her brows in deep thinking, but as much as she tried, the name didn’t bring up any recognition, so she shrugged. “I really don’t know.”
Hanneli nodded. “It doesn’t matter.” Then she wrote on the scrap of paper:
Rachel Epstein. Your sister Mindel is at the orphans' barracks. Hanneli Goslar.
On her way back Mindel peered through the barbed wire fence into the Women’s camp, hoping to see Rachel somewhere, but the only things she saw were hastily erected tents for the thousands upon thousands of women coming from this other camp called Auschwitz.
From then on she walked every day to the fence, hoping to catch a glimpse of her sister. She stayed until some SS guard sent her away, or until the bell for dinner time rang and she had to return to her barracks.
Never once did she see Rachel, but every day there were more tents and more people in the formerly empty courtyard. It was an impossible affair to find her sister there. With sagging shoulders she decided not to return, at least not until she heard back from Hanneli that someone had delivered her note.
That evening dark gray thunderclouds rolled in, covering the entire sky. One of the dimming memories of her days on the farm was how she and Aron had jumped from puddle to puddle, happy at the sensation of rain pelting down on them.
Here, though, she hated the rain. It wetted her dress, and for lack of a change in clothing, she’d spend the rest of the day moist and freezing. No, in the camp
