THE URN
Chapter 16
Written and illustrated by Elaine Troisi
4 rue du Tresor
August 17, 1942
Despite the soundproofing in the bunker, nothing could prevent the echo of gunfire from reverberating to the bedrooms. Max jumped from his bed, dressing hastily. He was surprised to see his mother in the hall. “Shh,” he whispered. “Stay here while I find the source of the sound.”
Golde, rubbing the sleep gravel from her eyes, grabbed his arm. “Wait! Your father isn't in bed. I think he already went downstairs.” She paused. “I'm frightened, Max!”
“Stay here, Mama. Lock yourself in the bathroom until I return. Please!” He kissed her. “I'll be right back.”
Again, Golde grabbed his arm. In her voice was the resolve he had come to respect.
“Okay, okay,” he shrugged. “But stay behind me,” he directed.
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| Max and his mother, Golde, head in search of gunfire by Elaine |
As quietly as they could, they descended the staircase. The only source of light was the moon, though their eyes quickly adapted to the darkness. Golde grabbed the back of Max’s shirt. “You're choking me,” he whispered hoarsely.
“Hannah and Jacob?” Her voice was filled with worry.
A second later they were in the kitchen. Hannah was gripping the table. Her bare knuckles white in the darkness. “I heard it, too. Jacob is not in our bed,” she blurted. But the squeaks from Rachel’s tiny nose tell me she is sleeping soundly.” She tried to smile. Golde rested her hand on Hannah’s, and slowly she released her grip on the table.
“Well, that just means they are working late. The printing press needs oiling and a refill. I am guessing we heard a can explode. That's all.” He tried to sound reassuring. “So, how about you wait here, and I'll check it out?” He grabbed a flashlight from the kitchen.
He turned the knob on the cupboard, and they were right on his heels as he descended the basement staircase. The space was dimly lit. Max turned on his flashlight. What they saw was something out of a nightmare.
There was a body on the floor, a Gendarme with a bleeding gap in his head. His hat was lying in a pool of blood, darkening now. How could this be?
In the shadows, Jacob was kneeling over Moishe’s bleeding body, his face etched with worry. Golde screamed, collapsing to her knees beside him. "Moishe!" she moaned, burying her face in her hands. “Moishe, please be okay. I need you still,” she begged.
"Thank God, he's not dead, Golde,” Jacob's voice sobbed. "He's wounded, not dying." Max was already at their side with the first aid box. "I think the bullet went through, but you can check for me, Max? Please?" Jacob tried to stand, but his legs had turned to rubber in his panic. Hannah rushed to his side, helping him move his trembling body to a bunk.
Golde recovered quickly, her focus shifting to Moishe's needs. "Max, can you turn him on his side so we can see the exit wound?" Max rolled him gently, still using a cloth to staunch the bleeding. Moishe groaned, barely conscious.
As they examined the wound, Golde's face fell. "Oh no," she whispered, hope draining from her eyes. She turned to Max, panic creeping into her voice. "Do you know how to remove the bullet?"
Max took a deep breath. "No, but we have to learn fast. He's losing a lot of blood!" He paused, collecting his thoughts. "Papa, please be okay. I'm praying." He leaned in, brushing his father's hair from his eyes, and kissed his cheek. “Give me your strength,” he whispered.
For a moment, the room fell silent, the only sound Moishe's labored breathing.
“Hannah, Golde called. “We need more …”
“Light, I know.” Hannah switched on the lights and raced upstairs to tend to Rachel, leaving the others to focus on Moishe.
"Check for morphine syrettes, sulfa powder, gauze, bandages,"and masks," Max called out to Jacob. "Lay everything out on a clean towel right here." Jacob nodded, his hands shaking as he rummaged through the medical supplies.
Max washed his hands with Lava soap, his mind racing with the task ahead. “Mama, are you up to the task,” he asked. Golde stood beside him, her eyes fixed on her son’s pale face. "I delivered Rachel, didn't I?" she said, her voice firm. "I'm not afraid of blood. I'll do anything to help your papa, Max!"
With a deep breath, Max cut away the sleeve and squeezed a syrette of morphine into Moishe's arm. He applied sulfa powder generously, his hands steady despite his racing heart. "I hope I can do this," he whispered.
Golde's gentle touch on his arm reassured him. "I trust you, son. You can do this."
“Your father is an amazingly resourceful man to have found these medical supplies on the Black Market,” Jacob said in awe as he handed Max a scalpel.
Max made the incision, his hands moving with a newfound confidence. "Forceps, please," he said, his voice steady. It only took a few seconds to find and retrieve the slug. "Amazing," he exhaled, relief washing over him. "It wasn't far down, and I don't think it struck bone, but clearly a blood vessel was nicked!"
The room breathed a collective sigh of relief as Max finished the procedure, applying more sulfa powder and suturing the wound. Moishe's chest rose and fell with a slightly steadier rhythm. For a moment, they just looked at each other, the weight of what they'd just done sinking in.
“Well,” Max said, the color returning to his face, “it's by no means a professional job, but at least Papa’s bleeding is under control. Let’s get him to the bunk. Now he needs rest and lots of fluids.”
Hannah came down the steps with Rachel in her arms, relieved to see Moishe resting comfortably. Instantly Jacob was at their side. He took his giggling and wiggling daughter and smiled broadly. He put her in the playpen with her favorite ragdoll bunny. She immediately began chewing its ears.
Hannah's eyes widened in alarm as the hidey-hole came into focus. It was still open. “Oh, no!” she groaned, realizing that in the chaos, no one had remembered to close. Suddenly, she was aware of new dangers. A shiver crept up her spine. She ran toward the opening. She hesitated at the body. It was between her and opening. There was so much blood everywhere. She tried not to look. She swallowed hard as bile rose to her mouth. Then gingerly she stepped over the body, avoiding the blood. With trembling hands, she found the button that closed the door. No one noticed her. Jacob was entertaining Rachel, and the rest were busily tending to Moishe. But she needed their attention, so she spoke slowly but precisely. “Ahem, we have another matter that needs our urgent attention,” she said, pointing to the floor.
I'm listening! I'd like to know if you feel engaged in this story. I'll be back again on October 31 with Chapter 17. So, hang in there!
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