now?”
Then Lilo and Rosa stared at each other as the child fell down on his knees. “I want my mother, Tante Leni.”
“Being tired is not the problem, apparently,” Leni said.
Leni stooped down, the ruffles of her skirt nearly swamping the child. They could see her extending her hand and stroking Otto’s curly black hair — a wig, which covered his closely shaved head. But now he tore off the wig and shouted “No!” directly at Tante Leni, who held out chocolates to him. “You promised me before. No! No! No! I want my mother. I don’t want chocolates.”
Leni turned and snapped her fingers. The lady who was in charge of dressing Leni came forward and handed her the small notebook. “You already wrote her name down in the notebook. Frieda Kunz!” Otto cried.
“You are right. I am not writing down her name. How do we find your mama if I don’t know your name,
Liebling.
” There was something in the way she said “mama” that made Lilo’s stomach curdle.
As if in a trance, the child replied, “My name is Otto Anton Kunz.”
From the basket of red ruffles that surrounded him, he tipped up his face to Tante Leni and took a deep breath. “Please, I want my mother. Her name is Frieda Kunz. She is a tall lady. She has a dimple when she smiles. She speaks Sinti and Roma and Italian, and she sings beautifully. Please find her, Tante Leni.”
“Of course,
Liebling.
Now, you run along. Are you sure you don’t want a chocolate?”
Take it! Take it,
Lilo prayed.
“No, thank you. All I want is Mama.”
“W here is he?” Rosa whispered as they got off the bus at the farm.
“I thought he came on the first bus,” Blanca said.
“Django was on the first bus.” Lilo looked around for Django and spotted him by a newly erected fence.
The head guard greeted them.
“Welcome back. The farmer Herr Cramm has been kind enough to enlarge the fenced area significantly so that you may take a moderate amount of exercise outside the barn.” He looked at Lilo and the others as if he expected to be thanked. Then he briskly nodded and walked away. Lilo, Rosa, and Blanca raced over to Django.
“Was Otto on your bus?” Lilo asked.
“Little Otto? No, why?”
“Oh, God — she took him!” Lilo gasped.
“More likely sent him away,” Rosa added.
“Maybe she really did send him to meet his mother,” Lilo said.
The color drained from Django’s face. “His mother? Otto’s mother is at Dachau.”
“B-b-but that’s not like those horrible camps that we hear are being built in the east,” Lilo stammered.
“Until those camps are completed in Poland. It’s a major holding camp until then. Like Buchenwald.”
“But how do you know, Django?” Rose asked. “You can’t be sure.”
“I was in Marzahn with Frieda Kunz. She was sent to Dachau. Otto was put on the bus with me to Buchenwald. I looked after him. All the Gypsies from Marzahn who were shipped to Dachau are heading east now.”
“But how do you know for sure?” Lilo pressed. Django’s eyes shifted nervously.
“The guard Gunther.” He nodded toward the head guard, who had just informed them of the farmer’s largesse in building the fence. “I heard him talking the other night. Auschwitz is almost completed. Gypsies and Jews are being sent by the thousands to finish the construction — in short, to dig their own graves, in the Birches.”
“The birches?” Lilo was stunned.
They should be glad they aren’t being sent to the birches.
The head guard’s words came back to her from the first chilly night nearly a month before. “What are the birches, Django?”
“That is the name of the biggest camp of all: Auschwitz-Birkenau.”
It had nothing to do with trees at all. All the trees had been cut down to make way for the humans that would be cut down.
“I can’t believe Otto is going there,” Blanca said softly. “He’s so little. All he wanted was his mother.”
“We can’t be sure,” Lilo said, but realized that her own
Then Lilo and Rosa stared at each other as the child fell down on his knees. “I want my mother, Tante Leni.”
“Being tired is not the problem, apparently,” Leni said.
Leni stooped down, the ruffles of her skirt nearly swamping the child. They could see her extending her hand and stroking Otto’s curly black hair — a wig, which covered his closely shaved head. But now he tore off the wig and shouted “No!” directly at Tante Leni, who held out chocolates to him. “You promised me before. No! No! No! I want my mother. I don’t want chocolates.”
Leni turned and snapped her fingers. The lady who was in charge of dressing Leni came forward and handed her the small notebook. “You already wrote her name down in the notebook. Frieda Kunz!” Otto cried.
“You are right. I am not writing down her name. How do we find your mama if I don’t know your name,
Liebling.
” There was something in the way she said “mama” that made Lilo’s stomach curdle.
As if in a trance, the child replied, “My name is Otto Anton Kunz.”
From the basket of red ruffles that surrounded him, he tipped up his face to Tante Leni and took a deep breath. “Please, I want my mother. Her name is Frieda Kunz. She is a tall lady. She has a dimple when she smiles. She speaks Sinti and Roma and Italian, and she sings beautifully. Please find her, Tante Leni.”
“Of course,
Liebling.
Now, you run along. Are you sure you don’t want a chocolate?”
Take it! Take it,
Lilo prayed.
“No, thank you. All I want is Mama.”
“W here is he?” Rosa whispered as they got off the bus at the farm.
“I thought he came on the first bus,” Blanca said.
“Django was on the first bus.” Lilo looked around for Django and spotted him by a newly erected fence.
The head guard greeted them.
“Welcome back. The farmer Herr Cramm has been kind enough to enlarge the fenced area significantly so that you may take a moderate amount of exercise outside the barn.” He looked at Lilo and the others as if he expected to be thanked. Then he briskly nodded and walked away. Lilo, Rosa, and Blanca raced over to Django.
“Was Otto on your bus?” Lilo asked.
“Little Otto? No, why?”
“Oh, God — she took him!” Lilo gasped.
“More likely sent him away,” Rosa added.
“Maybe she really did send him to meet his mother,” Lilo said.
The color drained from Django’s face. “His mother? Otto’s mother is at Dachau.”
“B-b-but that’s not like those horrible camps that we hear are being built in the east,” Lilo stammered.
“Until those camps are completed in Poland. It’s a major holding camp until then. Like Buchenwald.”
“But how do you know, Django?” Rose asked. “You can’t be sure.”
“I was in Marzahn with Frieda Kunz. She was sent to Dachau. Otto was put on the bus with me to Buchenwald. I looked after him. All the Gypsies from Marzahn who were shipped to Dachau are heading east now.”
“But how do you know for sure?” Lilo pressed. Django’s eyes shifted nervously.
“The guard Gunther.” He nodded toward the head guard, who had just informed them of the farmer’s largesse in building the fence. “I heard him talking the other night. Auschwitz is almost completed. Gypsies and Jews are being sent by the thousands to finish the construction — in short, to dig their own graves, in the Birches.”
“The birches?” Lilo was stunned.
They should be glad they aren’t being sent to the birches.
The head guard’s words came back to her from the first chilly night nearly a month before. “What are the birches, Django?”
“That is the name of the biggest camp of all: Auschwitz-Birkenau.”
It had nothing to do with trees at all. All the trees had been cut down to make way for the humans that would be cut down.
“I can’t believe Otto is going there,” Blanca said softly. “He’s so little. All he wanted was his mother.”
“We can’t be sure,” Lilo said, but realized that her own
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