Crying Without Tears2
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I coughed. I think I sprained my throat I was coughing so hard. Melinda took my hand and pulled me wearily back to the building after a long, hard day of work. I rubbed my eyes with my free hand then gazed around me, my vision blurred. I wished I could see the expression on Mel’s face, but everything was just too hard to make out, focusing only confused me.4
“I-I’m sorry.” I struggled to get the words out. Melinda didn’t respond so I began to wonder if I’d even said them, or if I’d just mumbled. I felt a pair of hands rest on my shoulders and carefully force me to sit down on the hard wooden floor.5
I rubbed my eyes again and tried to make out what was going on. Melinda was still standing, her hand resting on the back of my neck. With her stood another woman, normally I’d be able to make out each individual, but today, it was just too hard so I gave up.6
I started to cough again.7
I tried again to focus, just this time, on the words being passed between the two.8
Things were said, but my brain couldn’t translate the English, the different language just made me get a migraine. I buried my face in my hands and tried to tune out all the noise. It didn’t work very well.9
Melinda knelt down in front of me and said something. I tried hard to understand but my thoughts were far away, distant, and I couldn’t make out her fluent English. Melinda just sat there for a moment then reached over and hugged me. I really wanted to understand, I did, but I couldn’t pay strong enough attention to do so.10
I felt her pull me close and hold me tight, she kept whispering to me. Even though I didn’t understand, her tone was just calming in itself. The other woman had gone, leaving me and Melinda in our little corner of the building. 11
Outside at the work-spot we’d finished one building and were on the second, the frame was being built. It was a back-breaking task. But we did try to work hard, knowing that adding more building meant more people, and more people meant more suffering, we could at least make them comfortable right?12
Truthfully, comfort was the last thing I wanted. Other than being stuck here of course, this place really was hell. I pulled away from Mel and let my back rest against the wall. She stayed next to me. I’d noticed lately that she would stay as close as possible to me, and work hard to help me at the work-spot.13
It had gone from me helping her to her helping me. It didn’t seem right. I wanted to help her, but she wouldn’t let me. Melinda rested her back against the prickly wall too, and then moved close to me to share her body heat. Nights were always the easiest for her, but for me, it was like falling into a deep black hole.14
I coughed, I wheezed, I whimpered, I cried, I kicked, I went from hot to cold, I was hungry; I was thirsty….15
I was sick.16
No doubt about it. I squirmed a bit, turned a few times, tried to fluff the wall (yea, that worked…
—but nothing could get me any more comfortable. I’d rather be dead. I didn’t like thinking that but it was true, one day I would die, why not now?17I squirmed, turned, fluffed—still I lie awake, staring at the chipping wooden ceiling. A few birds twittered above, squawking to each other. They weren’t trapped here; they could leave at any time. I sighed, squirmed, turned, and fluffed. Nothing.18
I was never going to sleep at this rate.19
Never.20
I sighed and tapped Melinda’s shoulder. She stirred slightly then muttered. I tapped her again, and then she yawned and blinked her pale blue eyes in my direction. She said something; I forgot I couldn’t understand her. I sighed and pressed close to her. I wished I could remember English right now.21
She stared at me for a while then draped her arms over my weak, skinny frame. I let my head rest against her, my short, thin hair tickling my neck. She skimmed her hand down my side again and again, until she shifted back asleep. I laid against her, this wasn’t working so well.22
Cougcoughcoughcough… wheezewheezewheezewheeze… breathebreathe… coughcough… that was my pattern for the night and it didn’t help much. It was still long and hard, painful and deafening. I think I woke up everyone within a mile of the building. Yet, nobody complained, I think they knew not to. I was too sick to be bothered anyway. 23
Coughcoughcoughcoughcoughcoughcough… wheezewheezewheezewheeze… breathe… gaspgasp… breathebreathe… I began to cry, but no tears came. I cried without tears. I used to think that crying involved tears, but I guess it didn’t. I pressed as close as close as I could to Melinda and buried my face against her. I wanted to suffocate myself against her dress, but it wouldn’t work. 24
I reached up and rubbed my eyes. 25
“Please…” I wheezed and coughed a few shallow times, “someone rescue me… Lane, Joshua…?” Melinda stirred against me then readjusted, carefully pulling me with her. She wasn’t going to leave me on the cold floor.26
This was such a long, terrible night.27
“Josh… Lane… help, please…?” I thought I could see them both, under my eyelids, but I knew they weren’t there. The only people here were all the other victims and the Nazi prowling through the building. He completely ignored me, as if no one was saying anything. Then I remembered he didn’t understand Danish, at least, most likely he didn’t.28
“Julia, please sleep.” English, again. I kept on crying, yet no wetness coated my red cheeks. I wanted help; I just wanted help, real help. It had been nearly three months since I’d arrived, and it was a miracle I was still alive.29
I wished I was dead.30
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