Good luck homing pigeon

Chapter twenty: Hawkes have secrets too (22nd February 1944)

Hello, my few readers. The song above is 'Can't help falling in love' by the old, bold Elvis Presley. Enjoy...

Our bribe to those in power of Birkenau...well I couldn't exactly say it was a disaster, but I'd be lying if I said it was a complete success too. Before this resort, we did have a few block leaders from the women's side, but none from the men's. It wasn't nearly enough. So to each one, we sent a small token of their preferences (mainly cigarettes, small bottles of whisky, and sweet treats from Canada), including a message, saying that there was more where that came from. All they had to do was swear their allegiance to their own people, as they should've done long ago. Signed 'a little birdy'. So far we've had three responses, swearing they won't do it for the bribe. Five, agreeing to the bribe. One, claiming more personal favours for her cooperation. The rest hadn't sent us a response. So we had a few more allies here, but we needed more than that. Thus, what put this operation on middle grounds.

Needless to say, it was one of the most exhausting two weeks of my life. Back and forth I went each night; smuggling package after package, barely having a single minute alone with Angelo to tide me over. And as soon as my head hit the harsh, cold wood of the bunk surface, I was barely there for even a few hours before our day began again. Work was taking it's toll on me; as was the hours of roll call, and the lack of food. And people were beginning to notice. Women in the barrack gave me secret glances of pity as I walked; my legs not as strong as they were the week before. It wasn't long before Sandrine began to notice it too. Most of the time I was lucky to evade her questions. But occasionally, I couldn't escape her cornering me and pushing interrogations.

"What is happening to you Kate? You weren't nearly as exhausted last week as you are now."

"Sandrine, I told you before! Nothing's wrong. I just...I've been having some dreams that make it hard to sleep. That's all."

"Alright...what are those dreams about?"

"Mama, mostly." To be honest, it wasn't a complete  lie. I had dreamt of my family; just not during the past week. "We're back at home sometimes. Papa down in the basement; devoted over one of his masterpieces. Briana sits on the sofa; gushing over a letter from one of her secret admirers. And then there's...mama. Sitting at her table in the living room; working hard on a new gown. I miss her; just like I miss everybody else. I just didn't think it fair to go on about it. While everybody else probably knows their families are dead."

"Oh Kate," she sighed, wrapping an arm around me. "I miss my family too; even if you didn't want to say anything, you could've told me. We tell each other everything."

Except one thing, I thought bitterly. But I did my best not to show it. The only person out of everyone who ever came closest to guessing was mama; and that was just seconds before she left. After Briana's estrangement, I had to be more careful than ever that nobody else grew suspicious. Which was, with no surprise, one of the hardest things to accomplish.

It was true though-what I'd told her. The night after Antonia and Alina disappeared, I began to dream of home again. I dreamt of mama and papa; a once happy couple, now worlds apart. I dreamt of my sister: the perfect woman and role model, now using her looks to survive. I dreamt of my friends; singing silly rhymes, telling jokes under the community theatre stage. And when there was enough room, I dreamt of Angelo. Lying, face-up at the bottom of our hill, talking, laughing, or just admiring the streaks of amber and gold in the morning horizon. Just when I hoped that my life in Paris had finally returned to me, I'd wake up. Stiff, cold and painfully hungry, with the fresh, decaying scent of yet another dead body, lying close by.

Yes, though the week had been hard on me, I was more than glad it managed to pass so quickly. And of course there was Angelo; mere minutes at a time, but always there to share some human affection, and some piece of food he'd stolen at some point that day. And even if he looked haggard by the end of the week, I was even more so. I was glad about that. I had to take care of those I had left. There was no way I was going to end up like the rest of the inmates here who had no one-not even themselves. I think that was what frightened me most of all; falling into a nobody. Everybody had fears here, and I was no exception.