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8 ONE NIGHT: ONE DAY Papa lies on the ground. I look to the left. Others are lying on the ground. To our back are the big barbed-wire main gates and far across the way is the Germans' barrack. Near there is a pit where big turnips are stored. I watch Papa. I don't talk to God anymore to ask that Papa doesn't die. I know he is going to die. I have one little carrot left. I believe that if only he will eat another mouthful of food, he will live a little longer. The sun is getting lower, soon it will get darker and colder. I say, "Here Papa, I have a carrot for you." Papa looks at me and smiles. His face shines and his eyes shine with his smile. His smile is for me. He says, "No, schatje,1 you eat it, you eat it." No, no, I don't want to eat it. Oh, if only he eats the carrot, then he will stay alive! I can't say anything and Papa has closed his eyes again. He says nothing else. I eat up the carrot . I can't stay sitting with him. I walk around and around where Papa lies. I walk around and around him and cry without knowing that I'm crying. A girl sits on the ground a little to my left. She looks at me and says, "Why are you crying, he's going to die anyway." Don't say it! Don't say it! After a while I can sit with Papa again. I can hold my body quiet and sit with him. It slowly gets darker. From far across the sky I see a man run from the turnip pit. A German screams at him and chases him toward us. He clubs him and blood is pouring from his head. Oh God, they are running toward us. If they run here the German will see me and club me. If they 1 Schatje is Dutch for "little darling." 68 ONE NIGHT: ONE DAY run here, his blood will spurt and spill on me. He's almost here, I don't want his blood dripping on me. So close I hear the thudding of the club. The German screams and screams at the man. Suddenly the man veers off and runs faster. At the big gates of the next compound he climbs up and other men reach for him. The German is beating him. I don't watch anymore. The sky is darker. It gets very dark and much colder. Papa's eyes are closed. Is he sleeping? I sleep. When I wake up it's not yet daylight . I see the trucks have come. I see Mama and Daantje are here. I see Papa. Papa does not move, he does not answer. Papa is dead. I know, I know that Papa is dead. We have to get on the truck. Quickly, already there are other people on the truck. Quickly, I'm so afraid I won't get on when Mama and Daantje are already on the truck. A man helps to lift me and Papa is put on the truck. Oh, maybe he is not . . . no, I know he is dead. The truck moves. The truck goes by the same road that we walked one and a half years ago. In shocked wonder I look out to see many, many wired-off compounds. To the left of the road and to the right of the road are compounds full of people. A few move around. I thought our compound was what this place was. I had no idea that we were a part of this endless, huge place! It makes me feel crazy to know suddenly that what I held in my head as our prison area, our compound, the only compound, is not what is really there. What I held in my head is not true, not how this place is. 69 ...

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