Free Eye Wit by Hazel Dawkins, Dennis Berry Page B

valves . Then she moved over to the cabinet containing the infirmary’s supply of anesthetics and antibiotics. She removed a small bottle of rubbing alcohol and a slightly smaller bottle of a sulfonamide liquid and one syringe. The syringe and the two bottles went into the left-hand pocket of her smock. The other items she placed in a shallow white metal pan. Then hurried to Suites D and E.
    If only… Luludji thought as she approached the surgical ward. If only I had been courageous enough to steal sulfa for my Hadji two weeks ago, he might still be alive. There was no time to think of that now. She tucked away her self-condemnation and entered Suite D, a smile on her face, determination in her heart. Never again, she vowed.
    Luludji set down her load of supplies on the table next to two boys who sat side by side on one of the suite’s two gurneys, then opened the door connecting Suites D and E. The twins in E also shared a gurney. The four boys in the two connecting suites looked at her expectantly.
    She smiled. “Dobré ráno, chlapci,” she said, “Good morning, boys , ” in Slovak, then in German, “Guten Morgen, Jungen.”
    Luludji wondered which language they favored.
    “Dobré ráno, madam,” all four boys replied in unison, obviously pleased to be spoken to in the language they understood best.
    So, she thought: Slovakian. Good. Now for their names: “Aké sú vaše mená?” she asked of the boys in Suite D.
    The boy on the left, sitting taller than his obviously ill and slumping brother, said, “Nicu Ja nsen,” then bumped his twin with his shoulder. Both Jansens were thin and emaciated, Nicu’s brother much more so.
    “Punka,” Nicu’s brother managed. “Punka Jansen.”
    She nodded at the boys in Suite E.
    “ Tobar Teikin,” the one on the right said. Then looking to his shrunken twin, whom he held u pright by an arm clasped round his shoulder, “a Yanko.”
    “ Nicu, Punka, Tobar and Yanko.” She patted each boy on his head as she repeated his name. “I am Luludji Krietzman. Like you, I am R omani.”
    Even Punka and Yanko, the two very ill boys, perked up at that a nnouncement. She continued. “I am here to save your lives. I know that I will succeed. Do you know how I know that?”
    She had their complete attention. She slowly removed the crystal ball from the right pocket of her tunic and held it out towards them. “B ecause I am Magie Sehar Lulu, and Magic Seer Lulu sees all.”
    The boys’ eyes grew very large.
    “But that must be our secret, dear ones. Because secrets are magic!” The boys sat up straight and nodded their solemn agreement.
    Tobar Teikin affirmed, “It will be our secret, Magie Sehar Lulu!”
    Then they all laughed, probably for the first time since they arrived, perhaps for the first time since they were interned at the Lety by Pisek and Hodonin camps in the Protectorate of Bohemia and Moravia.
    Luludji Krietzman held a mock-scolding finger to her lips to shush them, then winked and tucked the crystal ball back in her pocket.
    “What is all this joviality?” Dr. Mengele said, entering Suite D, the smile on his lips not quite reaching his eyes.
    Luludji said, “We are all so happy that you are going to make Punka and Yanko feel better, Herr Doktor, and keep Nicu and Tobar healthy as well.”
    “ Then we must begin immediately,” Mengele replied, rubbing his hands in anticipation. He looked at the boys, then back at Luludji. “But you have not prepared their catheters, Frau Kriet zman.”
    “I will do so immediately, Herr Doktor.” She slapped her forehead and swore at herself, “Dummkopf!”
    She continued, “I am terribly sorry, Herr Doktor, but I do not have all the supplies I need. I fo rgot the alcohol and the syringes. And the sulfa.”
    “Sulfa, Frau Krietzman?”
    “Yes, doctor. For the typhus? You will be wanting to administer the medication to Punka and Yanko, along with their transfusions.”
    “ Yes, yes. We will do that later, after the