Out The Door - Short Story

“Do you need food? Water? You look thinner nowadays,” Paul quickly asked the dark-haired girl, stepping closer to where she was standing.

The girl smiled. Irene Sobczynska. That was her name. She was an interpreter from Poland, as it was rumored, and spoke five languages in total: Polish, German, Russian, French,  and some Italian. He’d heard that she even helped prisoners, bringing them medicine and extra food from time to time. 

“You noticed? I can’t sleep at night.” she pretended to write things down, checking the newly transported grain sacks in the warehouse, knowing that the SS-man could come in at any time and catch her doing anything other than her job. That meant punishment.

“You can come to me if you need food,” Paul said.

“That’s my job, not yours, Paul.” Irene laughed, slowly making her way out of the warehouse. She didn’t forget to throw a wink his way.

* * *

“Hello, dear, why I haven’t seen you around?” a neighbor asks, calmly sitting in the living room, waiting for Mia, Paul’s cousin. She looks about thirty, dressed neatly in a green skirt and a matching top. 

Meanwhile, Irene is in a dress far too fancy for her liking. She feels like those Aryan girls she so wanted to be when she first arrived in Germany; blonde-haired, blue-eyed, and exempt from any kind of slave labor or torture.

“My boyfriend is visiting his close cousin,” Irene says, “we may be staying for a few months, we thought it would be a nice vacation around the countryside nearby.”

“I cannot imagine how bad the situation is in the city,” the woman began.

“Those Jews could be hiding anywhere, but why would they hide or even escape when the only place for them is the camps?” the woman adds, leaving Irene in speechless. 

The word escape rings in her head. 

* * *

It was the 24th of May, 1944, at about six in the afternoon - exactly a week ago - when the two began to walk. 

Maybe it really was this easy to escape Auschwitz; dress up and walk out. Any traces of excitement or adrenaline vanished as the couple made their way out of a warehouse, where Irene was “stationed” to work, dressed in worker’s clothes, a yellow star on her uniform.

It was dark enough for the couple to be able to make it past the guard at the sentry post. Only a simple “ja, danke,” was enough to let them out and into the outskirts of Auschwitz. 

Still walking side-by-side, the two stood straight and stiff, still trembling in fear at the chance that one - or both - of them would get shot right at the back. Paul looked back, and the guard was still in a resting position, legs propped up to the edge of his booth. 

They had planned this, together. They would calmly walk out of the camp and head to Paul’s cousin’s house, in the countryside near Auschwitz.

He snaked his hand down to hold hers, now that they were much further from the camp.

They couldn’t stop now, it was a long way to go.

* * *

After the encounter with the neighbor, Paul finds his girlfriend pacing back and forth in the guest room where they stayed. 

“Irene,” he calls, but to no response. He sits on the bed and takes her hands in his, making her focus on him.

“What is the matter?”

No response. Instead, tears. Irene’s dainty fingers go up to her face, wiping the tears. She tries not to let her wet hands rub on the dress she is wearing but to no avail.

Then, a small whisper comes out of her quivering lips. It is almost inaudible but loud enough for only Paul to hear: “what if they know?”

Paul is quick to bring his girlfriend into a hug. He holds her tight, not wanting to even think about losing her.

“Remember what I told you? When the war is over-” his lips, too, quiver.

“What if it never ends?” Irene snaps.

“When the war is over, we’ll move to- to England, and start a new life-”

“We don’t even have money!” she sobs, louder this time.

“We will get married, Irene!” his voice softens, “just, just hold on to me. The war will end, and we can finally be free, get married, start a new life. It will happen.”

“But if they get me, leave me.” Irene resists, “you’re German, and you’re a Catholic, you don’t have to die too.”

Paul kisses her hands, “If they get us, I promise you, we will be together until the end.”

The act makes Irene giggle a little bit; how dramatic of him.

What is even more dramatic, however, is the sound of Nazis kicking down doors.

Works Cited

The Association Press. “Former Inmate Recalls Daring, Romantic Escape from Auschwitz.” Haaretz.com, Haaretz Com, 12 Jan. 2018, www.haaretz.com/jewish/1.5151151.

auschwitz.org. “Escapes and Reports.” AUSCHWITZ-BIRKENAU, www.auschwitz.org/en/history/resistance/escapes-and-reports.

“PRISONERS OF THE CAMPS.” United States Holocaust Memorial Museum, United States Holocaust Memorial Museum, www.encyclopedia.ushmm.org/content/en/article/prisoners-of-the-camps.

Shik, Na'ama. “Mala Zimetbaum.” Jewish Women's Archive, www.jwa.org/encyclopedia/article/Zimetbaum-Mala.