Chapter three

As she got closer to the village, she saw about a dozen wooden houses, and she realized that the inhabitants were farmers cultivating their lands.

She memorized her cover story well, repeated her name and date of birth several times, her place of residence, and the invented names of her parents and grandparents, as well as the Sunday prayer she knew well and for the sake of habit crossed herself several times repeating "Chwala Boga" (Praise God) which was a common phrase for the local Catholics.

She first met an older-looking Polish woman who washed her clothes in the stream's water. She approached her, chanting a melody so as not to frighten her.

"Chwala Boga," she greeted her.

"Chwala Boga," replied the woman and continued her work.

"I got lost. Can you tell me where we are?"

Now she became suspicious and rose in front of her, "And where did you come from?"

"I will be honest with you; I do not want to lie to you; the police arrested me on suspicion of communist activity, which I am not. I was taken for questioning, and the vehicle hit a tree, the driver was killed, and I fled to the forest. I have been walking around for a few days alone; you are the first soul I meet."

The woman looked at her closely and frowned in an attempt to understand the situation that had arisen.

"You are not Jewish; I can see that. So come and help me, and I will give you some food."

"My name is Christina," Violette said, holding out her hand.

"I am Zosia," replied the woman and shook her hand.

Now the two women were walking, carrying the tin tub full of wet clothes toward the village.

When they entered the hut, Violette immediately noticed the great poverty that prevailed in the place. The floor was missing several tiles, the bed structure was made of wood, and the mattress was stuffed with hay, a table with two chairs in the middle of the room—the sink with a hose connected to a water tank above. It was cold inside the hut, and a metal stove that heated the room also served for cooking. A pot stood over it, and some stew was simmering in it that increased Violette's hunger.

"Sit down, my child; I'll prepare for you a plate of the Krupnik I cooked," Zosia said, approaching the pot with a ladle in her hand.

Violette sat. A tear welled up in her eyes; she went through a tough time in which she was chased like an animal escaping its hunters. Yet, for a moment, she felt safe, one moment when she could gather strength to continue on her way, a moment that would distract her from the terror of being prey.

Zosia sat across from her and watched her eat the hot soup and lick the spoon.

"You have suffered so much; war is damned; why is there so much hatred in the world? God created everyone equal, isn't it?"

Violette looked at her face with deep wrinkles and a strand of her white hair protruding through the handkerchief wrapped around her head, her hands rough from hard work in harsh conditions.

"Do you live alone?" She asked though she knew the answer when she saw the single bed in the corner of the room next to the stove.

"Yes, my husband, peace be upon him, died a few years ago of pneumonia, my youngest son was run over by a raging horse when he was three, and my eldest son disappeared when the Germans entered Poland in September 1939. I hope to see him when it's all over, God willing. And where are your parents, my child? Do you have any information about your family?" Zosia asked, and her blue eyes were looking with concern at Violette.

"We lived in Maluszyn when I was arrested along with a few other young students from the university; my parents stayed at home, I did not hear from them anymore, I do not know what happened to them. I was taken for questioning, and the vehicle collided with a tree trunk, and as I have already told you, I fled to the forest, crossed it, and came here."

"You can stay in my house as long as you want; we'll be crammed into bed, so we'll be warmer."

Violette stood up and hugged the woman. "I thank you, may God bless you, and may your son return in peace."

Several days passed since Violette had arrived in the remote village of Maluszyn; she had been busy with Zosia's household. Nevertheless, the two found a common language and often had pleasant conversations; they went to the small church together on Sundays after Zosia washed, sewed, and repaired Violette's clothes.

In the land next to the house, Zosia grew red beets from which she made borscht soup. She performed as the "doctor" of the village for her living; she learned the craft of extracting teeth with the help of special pliers and treated diseases and wounds using herbs she collected in the forest.

One day one of the village daughters, accompanied by her mother, came to Zosia. The girl was about Violette's age. She was so anxious about the painful tooth extraction that she fainted even before receiving the treatment. Violette volunteered to distract her and tried to convince her to get the treatment. They walked along the creek and chatted.

"I have not yet asked you for your name; my name is Christina," said Violette.

"Mine is Bozena," the girl replied.

"And what are you doing in the village?"

"I studied sewing in our county town Wloszczowa, and besides, I'm engaged. I will be getting married and raising kids."

"Wonderful, so you'll be a mother soon?".

"Not so soon, my fiancé was taken by the partisans to the forests, and I do not know where he is."

"Hopefully, it's all over soon, and he will be back in peace, and you can get married." Violette tried to comfort her.

"I pray for that to the good Lord every night before I close my eyes."

"So surely God will hear your prayers and answer them willingly."

"How nice you are, your Polish is so rich, one can see that you are urban, maybe you will come and visit me so I will improve my Polish?"

"I'd love to come, even tomorrow, if you like."

"Of course, I hope to feel good after the extraction."

Violette accompanied her back. She held Bozena's hand while Zosia removed the sore tooth.

Before they left, she walked over to her and hugged her warmly. "How glad I am to have met you; I hope you will come to visit me tomorrow."

As she sat in the cabin doorway with Zosia in the evening, they both looked at the starry sky, each one in his thoughts. Zosia quietly prayed for her son's return, and Violette imagined her parents sitting in their New York apartment, crying over their only daughter they had left somewhere in occupied Europe.

The following day, after cleaning the house and going out with two buckets to fetch water from the creek, she informed Zosia that she would visit her new friend.

"People in the village are suspicious; try not to stand out and do not tell that you have been arrested for your political opinions. Instead, when asked, say you are my distant relative from Czestochowa and have been sent for a while to be with me and help with the housework."

Violette nodded and smiled. "It's okay; I'm responsible. I will not involve you."

As she went out and walked towards the main square, she was accompanied by dozens of curious and suspicious eyes; such are the villagers, not trusting strangers appearing out of nowhere.

"Welcome to my house," Bozena jumped up and hugged her warmly.

"Does it still hurt?" Violette asked.

"No, at night, it hurt a little; mother brought me some cloves that helped me a lot, and today it's as if nothing happened."

After showing her house, which was larger and better built from Zosia's hut, the two went for a walk on the edge of the forest. They collected mushrooms, and Bozena taught Violette the edible types of mushrooms as well as some secrets of the forest.

"Where are your parents?" Bozena asked.

"My parents are in Kielce; I came to be with Aunt Zosia because life in Kielce has been difficult since the occupation, my father has no job, and my mother is very ill, and they have no money for medicine."

Bozena looked at her compassionately, "Fine, so till the end of the occupation, we will keep company. I do not like village life."

When they returned to Bozena's house, they sat in her room and talked. Then, Bozena went out to use the wooden outhouse built in the courtyard. Violette looked around and saw various documents sticking out of a leather bag; she pulled out a bundle of documents; Bozena's identification card was between them. She pushed the certificate into her shoes and sat back in her place. When Bozena returned, Violette asked to go home to rest, and they talked to meet the next day again.

On her way to Zosia's house, she veered towards the forest, dug a pit next to a thick-stemmed tree, wrapped the certificate with dried leaves in many layers, and covered the hole with soil. Then she took a sharp branch and engraved a cross on the trunk. She looked around and saw no one.