Ruby took sharp aim with her knife as she sliced the cheese, and then the not so fresh bread to make their sandwiches for the afternoon. With each cut through the softness and then the hard, she kept telling herself that today was for the pleasures of summer. It was a day to put away regrets, to look into Ilya’s eyes, and to find ease among the friends who filled her heart so it didn’t ache all the time. A Saturday morning, a basket of food, the bicycle ride holding Ilya by his skinny ribs. He was devoted to her. He often told her that she saved his life. His hands were so alive, his eyes so alert, so eager to meet her own, his arms so ready to hold her up, hold her close. They saved each other’s lives, she figured.
And none of them knew why they were saved. For the children who appeared like magic. Like ripe fruits, ready to feed them all. She was maybe a few days late.
• • •
The sun was strong—no shade anywhere around the pool. But Pavel, who was trying to court Mala, insisted they line up for a picture.
“First the ladies!” he worked to get them in line. They arranged themselves behind Ruby. They were not yet wet, just sweaty and itching to get themselves totally soaking—a regular mikvah—even if it meant getting their hair wet. She couldn’t see their faces, but she could feel their bodies, imagining everybody lined up, hands at the waists and hips of the one in front. Holding the pose like this for Pavel with his fancy new camera bought on the gray market in Berlin. Surely she wasn’t the only one who was remembering freezing in the snow, their hands in the armpits of the one in front or to the side at roll call, at the Appellplatz. Ruby pulled herself back from the memory into the moment. Pavel was getting all the details just right, and he wanted them to smile for him, all together.
“I could just tickle you,” she whispered to Mala, “and that would spoil Pavel’s plans, but he might get a better picture of us all.”
Mala shushed Ruby. She wanted this to be over fast. Her bathing suit itched terribly. Once the picture-taking was done, they could get wet and be more comfortable and cooler, too. Mala leaned her head forward toward Ruby’s to let her know they were trapped and held in this moment together. Ruby felt Mala’s hair touching her cheekbone and wondered whether this girl would ever give herself to the effort they all were making to find ways to live. She pushed men away, one after another, always another excuse for why this one was too small, that one too bossy, and then there were the ones who were a little bit crazy, a lot sometimes, and Mala had a nose for the crazy ones. Once she figured them out, she made sure they never came back for another try.
• • •
Starting over—another chance—that was everybody’s song. But the slate was far from clean. They were all carrying their aches and pains. These days, they were mostly aches of the heart; all their bodies were strong. Look at Ilya, lying on the ground, next to all the girls, just for the photo. He was skinny, but he could lift her up without any effort at all. Sometimes, like today, maybe when they finally got in the water, he’d hold her up from below, like her father and brother used to do at the lake at Zakopane on hot summer days like this one. Sometimes she could hardly remember, and sometimes she was flooded with memories: of her father, her mother, her brother Max, but most of all Pearl, her baby sister—by five minutes!
The sun was heading down, shade was coming over the pool. They had all exhausted themselves in the sunshine and in the water. The men and some of the women had spent a good part of the afternoon in their end of the pool catching, throwing, and hitting a soccer ball with their heads. The antics were mostly amusing to Ruby. She wasn’t much of a swimmer, and she couldn’t really spend that much time being wet with nothing to do. So she had gone in and out, getting wet, cooling off, gossiping at the side of the pool with whoever else wasn’t in the water exercising. The heat alone was enough to tire her out. She found herself in a longer conversation than ever before with Chana; she was the girlfriend of Bela who insisted on being called Bobby. It turned out that she and Chana had both shaved a few years off their age when the war was over. Ruby felt those years had been stolen from her and it was her way of taking them back. Chana had lost a sister three years younger, and for her it was a way to remember her sister, she said, and she, too, felt those years lost. They found a corner and bobbed up and down together in place, just staying cool and wet.
“What a perfect summer day!”
“Yes, Bobby is happier than I’ve seen him in a while. Did you see his new camera? He takes good photos, some for the camp newspaper. You’ve seen them, haven’t you? He’s been offering to take pictures, portraits really, of couples. He’s making a bit of money that way, and gaining a reputation. Maybe it can be his real work all the time, not just a hobby. Everybody wants photos since we have no old ones. Did you manage to save any from before?”
“Yes, I did. I have two photos I kept in my shoes or tucked into my armpits. One is of my big brother and my mother, and the other is of me and my twin sister, Pearl, when we were maybe one-year old. I feel so lucky that I managed to do that. What about you? Do you have any pictures at all of your family?”
“None. But I see them sometimes, the photos that used to stand on a shelf in our apartment in Lodz. I can almost see the details of what my parents were wearing when they married, and what my grandparents looked like surrounded by their three children and some of us grandchildren. I can certainly see my grandmother’s big bosom, and my grandfather’s long, white beard. He was old-fashioned even then for someone living in the city.
“We should probably get out of the water. The sun is going down and I hear the church bells ringing six o’clock. Look at those birds in that tree in the far corner of the pool. They found the shade. And what a racket they are making. They must think it’s time for them to take over the water. So many of them at once in one tree. I wonder what kind they are? A bit like us, crowded together, and happy that way.”
“Ladies, it’s time to come out of the water,” called Bobby. “Time to head back to the dining hall so we can feast on something that tastes nothing like anything my mother ever used to cook!”
• • •
Ruby glanced over her shoulder into the mirror, made sure the seams of her brand new stockings were straight, and went to answer Ilya’s recognizable knock at the door—always three taps, volume increasing. His patience, mixed with worry, threatened a flood the closer he got to Ruby’s door, so he breathed more deeply. Even though he could count on her broad smile at the sight of him, until she took him in her arms the drums of his nerves couldn’t settle down. Until they met he had not been sure why he had lived when so many around him just gave up, became ghosts and died. Waiting for Ruby to answer the door, he could hear his sister Sadie’s voice, irritating him.
“She should have seen you in your black galoshes and green army raincoat,” Sadie kept on reminding him. She couldn’t seem to share his good fortune. He couldn’t understand why Sadie and Ruby didn’t get along.
But here Ruby was, smiling, bringing day back into the evening.
“Come inside, Ilya, it’s cold and windy.”
That smile. And when she said his name, he just wanted to close his eyes and listen to her talk. Conversation with Ruby was exciting even if it made him feel he’d never be enough to keep her happy. Tonight was the last chance to get together, just the two of them, before the wedding on Sunday. They were both eager, and nervous. They kept checking the looks in each other’s eyes to be sure it wasn’t some dream. If it was a dream, it was the same one that everyone young and fit enough was having. Nightmares—those were close friends—but a dream like this one, of love and a future together…. Only Sadie had come along to throw cold