The Assault Read Online Free PDF Page B

he saw nothing more.

3
    Groping, he reached for the cot. All about him he could feel the presence of the man who must be in there somewhere. He folded his hands in his lap and listened to the voices in the hall. A bit later he heard boots walking up the stairs, and all grew quiet. Now he heard the other one breathing.
    “Why are you here?”
    The gentle voice of a woman. Suddenly it was as if a great danger had been averted. He opened his eyes wide to see, but the darkness filled them like black water. Now in the other cells he could hear muffled voices.
    “They set our house on fire.”
    As he said it, he too could hardly believe there should be nothing left but a smouldering ruin between Hideway and Home at Last. It took a while before she answered.
    “Why did they? Did it happen just now?”
    “Yes ma’am.”
    “Why?”
    “In revenge. A fellow had been shot, but we had nothing to do with it. We weren’t allowed to take anything along.”
    “Oh shit,” she said. Then, after a while, “Jesus. Were you maybe at home alone?”
    “No, with my father and mother and my brother.” He noticed that his eyes were closing all by themselves. He opened them wide, but it made little difference.
    “Where are they now?”
    “I don’t know.”
    “Did the Germans take them away?”
    “Yes. At least, my father and mother.”
    “And your brother?”
    “He escaped. He wanted …” It was the first time that he had to cry just a little. “Now look at me …” He was ashamed but couldn’t help it.
    “Come and sit next to me.”
    He stood up and felt his way step by step in her direction.
    “Yes, here I am,” she said. “Put out your hand.” He touched her fingers; she took hold of his hand and pulled him close. On the cot she embraced him with one arm and with her other hand pressed his head against her breast. She smelled of sweat but also of something else, something sweetish that he couldn’t identify. Perhaps it was perfume. Within the darkness there was a second darkness in whichhe heard her heart pound, really much too hard for someone who was just comforting someone else.
    As he calmed down, he began to see a pale strip of light under the door and kept his eyes focused on it. She must have caught a glimpse of him when he entered. She draped her blanket around the two of them and held him firmly against her. She was not as warm as the stove upstairs, yet at the same time she was so much warmer. Once more tears welled in his eyes, but now in a different way. He would have liked to ask her why she was in prison, but didn’t dare. Perhaps she had been dealing on the black market. He heard her swallow.
    “I don’t know your name,” she whispered. “And I shouldn’t know it. You can’t know mine either, but will you never forget one thing for the rest of your life?”
    “What’s that?”
    “How old are you?”
    “Almost thirteen, ma’am.”
    “Oh, stop calling me ma’am. Listen. They’ll try and make you believe all kinds of things, but you must never forget that it was the Krauts who burned down your house. Whoever did it, did it, and not anyone else.”
    “Of course I know that,” said Anton, a little offended. “I saw it with my own eyes, after all.”
    “Yes, but they did it because that pig had been liquidated, and they’ll blame the Underground and say they were forced to do it. They’ll tell you that the Underground knew what would happen and therefore the Underground is responsible.”
    “Oh,” said Anton drawing himself up a little and trying to formulate what he thought about it. “But if that’s the case, then … then no one’s ever at fault. Then everyone can just do as they please.”
    He felt her fingers caressing his hair. “Do you happen to know, by the way …” she began hesitantly, “what that fellow’s name was?”
    “Ploeg,” he said. Quickly her hand covered his mouth.
    “Quiet.”
    “Fake Ploeg,” he whispered. “He was with the police. A dirty