In the Mouth of the Wolf Read Free Page A

look.”
    A long, winding path led deep into the park, but we didn’t take it. Instead, remembering my father’s advice, I found two bushes growing side by side right next to the street. Benek took one and I took the other. With a whole park to hide in, it would be hard to find two more obvious places than that.
    We lay there an hour…two hours. A cold rain began to fall. Suddenly we heard voices. Two German gendarmes were coming up the street, shining their flashlights into dark corners. Huddled in the bushes, we overheard their conversation. They were going to search the park. Being so close to the railway, it was a good place for saboteurs to hide. They turned in at the gate and followed the path to the point where it forked. One branch led deeper into thepark while the other ran parallel to the street, right by the bushes where we were hiding. We didn’t breathe. If they came this way, they’d catch us for sure.
    But they didn’t. My father was right. They went the other way. By now we realized that the park was not as safe as we thought. “Let’s go,” I whispered to Benek as soon as the gendarmes were out of sight. We went back across the street to take our chances in the railway station.
    It was very late. The Radom-Czçstochowa train had just pulled in. We mingled with the passengers getting off, and as the crowd began to thin I noticed a railway worker walk by carrying a kerosene lantern. He looked tired, as if he were just coming off duty, but he had a kind face. Somehow I felt I should approach him. So I did.
    â€œExcuse me, Mister. Do you know any place where my brother and I could spend the night? We just heard that our train won’t be leaving till four. It’s against the law to be on the street, and we have nowhere else to go.”
    He studied me thoughtfully, then said, “Did you just get off that train from Częstochowa?”
    I said we had.
    He frowned, thinking it over. “Okay, come with me. I have a place. You can stay there.”
    We followed him to a large apartment building on a side street just off Pilsudskiego Street, Piotrków’s main thoroughfare. He unlocked the front door, let us inside, and then up three flights of stairs to his apartment. Opening the door, he motioned us to go in. He turned on the light. Benek and I found ourselves standing in a warm, freshly scrubbed kitchen with copper pots and pans gleaming brightly from their hooks on the wall. A wooden chest filled one corner. The railway man invited us to sit down, then asked, “When does your train leave?”
    â€œFour o’clock,” I replied. “Maybe four-thirty if it’s late.”
    He took an alarm clock and set it. “You can sleep here in the kitchen, on the chest if you like. I’ll get you up on time.” In the next room we heard a baby cry and a woman’s voice asking, “Jan, what’s going on? Who are you talking to?”
    â€œIt’s nothing,” he said. “Nothing at all. Go back to sleep.” Then, taking the key, he locked the front door from inside and went into the other room.
    A chilling thought raced through my mind. “He knows! He knows we’re Jewish! And now he’s locked us in so he can turn us over to the police!” What were we to do? There was no way out, no place to run. We were trapped. All we could do was wait. And so we sat up that whole night—mouths dry, hearts pounding, clutching each other’s hand so tightly it hurt—awaiting the disaster that would certainly come in the morning.
    Just before four, the bedroom door opened and the railway man emerged. “Time to go,” he said. “Get your things. I’ll take you down.”
    â€œNo need for that!” Benek and I blurted out at once. “Just open the door. We’ll find our way down ourselves.” No,” he insisted. “I’ll have to let you out the front. I don’t want the