Unravelled by Anna Scanlon Page B

the woman who had been sewing. She put her arm around my waist and stroked the top of my hair, the way Lujza used to do when we had fallen while skating on the unforgiving pavement.
    "Who is Mengele?" I managed. "Is he nice?"
    Hajna looked at the woman, biting her lip. She rubbed her hand over her nose, but this time the gold bracelet our father had bought her didn't dangle down to her elbow. The Germans had asked her to give it to them. In a whirlwind of tears and confusion, Hajna nodded without one of her usual sassy words edgewise.
    "He's a doctor here," the woman replied.
    "Our Papa is a doctor," Hajna whispered, a feeling of relief seeming to wash over her entire body. She exhaled slowly, her warm breath on my face.
    "He's not a good doctor," Maria warned, before the older girl slapped her hand.
    There was a knock on the door. Whoever was knocking didn't wait for an answer, but merely walked in, his knock merely serving as a warning. All of the girls, each a pair of twins, stood at attention, like tiny soldiers saluting the one in charge. Each girl puffed out her chest and patted down her hair. I struggled to get to my feet, but felt a pair of hands on either side of me pulling me up so that I stood erect, my posture matching the other girls'.
    "I hear we have some new girls today?" the man said. It was the first time I was able to get a good look at him, this visitor to our barracks. He wore an immaculate SS uniform, his boots perfectly shined, his gloves neat and pressed. His face was a bit pinched when he made certain expressions, but he was, overall, quite handsome. He smiled at each girl he passed, asking how their day had been and even giving some of the girls a little piece of candy. The very little girls jumped up and down as they saw him, crying "Uncle! Uncle!" as he bent at the waist to give them a hug. Some of the tiny children took candy from his pockets without asking. He smiled, without protesting.
    "And who are you?" he asked, stopping just in front of Hajna and me. His brown eyes were kind, beautiful even. The glint in them made him look like a father or a protector. He spoke slowly and methodically, through an interpreter, a little man with a lab coat and spectacles. He reminded me of Dopey from Snow White and the Seven Dwarves, the movie my father had taken us to see not more than a year earlier.
    "I'm Hajna and this is Aliz," Hajna spoke for both of us, turning toward the Dopey interpreter with her head held high, her brown hair falling behind her like a majestic waterfall.
    "Hajna and Aliz," he repeated with a smile, as if he were trying out the names in his mouth. He bent down to us and opened his hand, revealing two beautiful, smooth chocolates. "I'm Doctor Mengele. But you can call me Uncle Mengele, if you wish."
    Without thinking, we took the chocolates right away, our mouths watering and stomachs growling at the mere sight of the candy. The moment I put it on my tongue, my mouth exploded with flavor, my ears and nose about to burst with the sensory overload. I hadn't had chocolate in longer than I could remember, and it tasted sweeter than I had ever dreamed.
    "He wants to know if your trip was good," Dopey, the interpreter asked us, turning toward Mengele and back to us.
    "It was a bit crowded," Hajna nodded. "And maybe a bit smelly. But we're okay. Where is our mother?"
    I looked from Hajna to the interpreter and back to Mengele again.  He smiled reassuringly, revealing a set of beautiful white and straight teeth, and patted both of us on the head.
    "You'll be with her soon enough. Don’t worry."
    And with that, Mengele strutted off, almost with the gait of a peacock, to speak to the other pair of twins who had arrived on our transport. None of the girls moved from their posts, so we stayed at attention, like little tin soldiers, devouring our candy. My heart leaped slightly, my nerves calming the way they would after a nightmare when my mother handed us hot milk to help us go back to