The Haunting of Sunshine House

2. Zamość, Poland

2

Zamość, Poland

DECEMBER 18, 1942

Szymon Michalski held onto his mama’s hand as they navigated the snow-covered sidewalk. The bad men in the big trucks made the sidewalk shake, and he couldn’t help glance their way. One of them saw him look and Szymon turned his face away in fear, hoping he was wrong. His mama told him, right before they left the house, not to look at any faces and keep his eyes on his feet. He obeyed like a good boy but when he felt the rumble, he couldn’t help it. The big trucks made a terrible, loud noise and he wanted to cover his ears but mama wouldn’t let go of him. She held on so tight that his hand ached in his mittens.

“Pick up your feet, Szymon. It’s cold.” She dragged him forward, and he followed the best he could. His toes had frozen the moment they stepped outside because the holes in his shoes let in the wet snow. It hurt to walk, but he kept quiet since Mama seemed worried and the grocer’s was still several blocks away. Mama gave a small gasp and stopped walking. He peeked up to see what scared her and found a bad man and a woman in a brown uniform blocking the sidewalk. His mama pulled him closer. He tucked his head back down, hoping mama hadn’t seen him look up. She’d be so mad.

“Names, please,” the man demanded. His mama’s arms tightened around him.

“Magdalena Michalski,” his mama answered while the woman kneeled in front of him.

“What’s your name?” she asked him. Szymon checked with his mama who nodded.

“Szymon,” he said.

“How old are you, Szymon?”

“Eight.” The woman straightened and pulled off his wooly hat. He shivered as the cold wind hit the back of his damp hair and saw the woman nod at the bad man.

“Szymon, you need to come with us,” the woman said, pulling on his arm.

“No! Why do you want my son?” His mama’s voice sounded strange to Szymon. Like, when Pani Dudek told them that Papa had gone to heaven.

“He needs to come with us.” The woman tugged harder on his arm but Mama wouldn’t let go.

“NO!” Mama clutched him to her. The woman took him by both shoulders and pulled harder but Mama kept hold of his arm. “Please don’t. I’ll do anything. Please,” she pleaded with them.

Szymon stared up at the adults as the bad man pulled out a gun and pointed it at Mama’s head. His mama sobbed. A bright light blinded him while a big bang hurt his ears. He felt wet on his face as his mama let him go. He clamped his hands over his ears while the woman pulled at him, but he didn’t want to go and leave his mama like that. He kneeled down next to her and tried to shake her awake but that just made more blood pour out of her head and onto the dirty, grey snow on the sidewalk. Mama killed a chicken for dinner yesterday and her blood looked the same as the chicken’s did. He looked up at the woman.

“MAMA. MAMA. Mama’s hurt. You hurt my mama,” he yelled at the brown woman because he was too afraid to look at the bad man. She yanked him by the arm, but he fought against her. He had to stay with Mama. He wouldn’t leave her here. She needed him.

“MAMA!” He screamed but Mama did nothing. She just lay there, her eyes open. The bad man lifted him up and threw him over his shoulder. Where were they taking him? Why couldn’t he stay with Mama?

The woman’s face came close to his. “Be a good boy, Szymon. Be a good boy,” she said. He whimpered and knew that Mama went to heaven just like Papa had. He was alone now. He fell silent and stopped squirming. The ground moved, and he watched the bad man step into the street. Why did they hurt Mama? Where were they taking him? He had to be a good boy now, or he’d go to heaven too.