jherbert.sepulchre-第34部分

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　　He　had　no　idea　of　how　long　he　had　lain　there；　it　could　have　been　days；　it　might　only　have　been　hours。　But　something　had　drawn　his　senses　towards　one　focal　point。　It　was　a　smell。　Familiar。　From　the　past。　He　stared　into　the　greyness　above　and　his　tongue　ran　across　dry；　cracked　lips；　failing　to　moisten　them。　He　drew　up　his　knees　as　hunger　cramped　his　stomach　and　his　head　lolled　listlessly　when　the　pain　passed。　That　faint　smell；　what　was　it？　So　familiar。　He　was　a　boy　again；　and　he　stood　in　the　centre　of　the　room　watching　a　door。　Mamusia　and　Tatus　had　shut　him　out。　They　always　did　when　they　did　things　to　each　other；　unless　they　thought　he　was　sleeping。　He　could　hear　them　laughing；　and　then　he　could　hear　them　moaning　as　if　they　were　hurting　one　another。　But　one　night；　when　they　thought　he　was　asleep；　he　had　watched　them　across　the　bedroom　。　。　。　and　hadn't　liked　what　he　saw　。　。　。　but　had　wanted　to　be　part　of　it　。　。　。　to　enjoy　the　game　with　them；　to　be　hurt　in　the　same　way　。　。　。　but　he　knew　it　was　forbidden　。　。　。　The　faint　smell。　The　boy　looked　towards　the　table；　towards　the　source。　The　meat　was　dark　red；　blood　seeping　onto　the　rough　wooden　surface。　He　moved　closer。
　　Janusz　recognised　the　odour　of　raw　liver。　But　it　wasn't　possible。　He　was　no　longer　a　child　and　this　place　was　not　his　home。　No；　this　was　the　death　hut。　The　smell　though。　It　was　here。　There　was　raw　liver　somewhere　nearby。　His　smile　made　his　lips　bleed。
　　For　the　first　time　he　heard　the　dull　moans　and　they　were　around　him；　not　from　behind　a　closed　door。　And　the　smell　was　with　the　moans。
　　He　let　his　head　fall　to　one　side　and　in　the　pre…dawn　light　saw　the　shapeless　bundle　next　to　him。　There　was　hardly　anything　left　of　the　man；　and　he　barely　moved。　But　the　smell　was　from　him　and　it　was　mouth…watering。　Janusz's　arm　trembled　when　he　reached　towards　the　figure。
　　The　man　was　not　sleeping；　nor　was　he　really　conscious。　He　was　near　death　and　that　proximity　was　forting　for　him。　Most　of　the　pain　had　gone　to　some　distant　point；　so　far　away　it　could　scarcely　be　felt。　He　sunk　further　within　himself　and　realised　that　the　journey　inwards　was　the　way　to　final　peace。　Yet　something　was　moving　him；　interrupting　his　floating　descent。　Something　was　caressing　his　stomach。　Pain　was　ing　close　once　more；　and　the　man　did　not　want　that。　He　tried　to　protest；　but　a　murmur　that　was　only　a　sigh　was　all　the　sound　he　managed。　Sharp　agony　now。　And　something　hard　covering　his　mouth　and　nose；　stopping　any　more　sighs；　any　more　breathing。　The　agony　increased　as　something　gnawed　into　his　belly　and　he　was　too　feeble　to　protest　further。　But　the　pain　was　being　dulled；　bliss　was　washing　through　him；　for　his　senses　were　leaving　and　he；　at　long　last；　was　leaving　with　them　and　it　was　good；　so　ultimately　good。
　　No　one　went　near　the　but　that　day；　nor　the　next。　No　corpses　were　taken　away；　no　more　of　the　dying　were　dumped　inside。　It　was　to　be　five　days　before　the　door　of　the　Majdanek　death　but　was　opened　again；　and　then　by　Russian　soldiers；　for　this　was　the　summer　of　1944　and　the　German　invaders　were　being　driven　from　Poland。
　　The　Russians；　already　hardened　by　their　own　suffering　in　the　terrible　war；　and　by　the　atrocities　they　had　witnessed　during　the　march　across　their　neighbouring　country；　were　sickened　by　what　they　found　inside　the　hut。　Only　one　man　was　still　alive　and　he；　understandably；　was　demented　by　what　had　happened　around　him。　He　lay　on　a　floor　that　was　filled　with　corpses。　Many　had　been　mutilated；　for　it　seemed　rats　had　found　their　way　inside　and　fed　off　his　dead　and　dying　patriots。
　　Unfortunately　for　the　Polish　people；　once　the　Russians　had　occupied　their　country　they　felt　no　punction　to　leave。　Poland　came　under　munist　control；　and　oppression；　although　never　as　severe　as　under　Nazi　rule；　remained　the　norm。　Again　farmers　and　factory　workers　found　themselves　working　for　the　State　rather　than　for　themselves；　with　the　government　dictating　at　what　rates　produce　should　be　sold。
　　Janusz　Palusinski；　who　bore　the　indelible　mark　of　German　brutality　on　his　wrist　and　never　failed　to　let　the　tattoo　show　on　any　occasion　that　sympathy　might　help　better　his　cause；　came　to　thrive　under　the　system；　for　scrounging　and　self…interest　was　the　ideal　apprenticeship　for　a　black…marketeer。　It　took　him　a　full　year　to　recover　from　his　treatment　by　the　Nazis　（although　a　whole　lifetime　would　never　erase　the　damage　to　his　psyche）　but　his　will　to　survive　at　all　costs　had　been　enhanced　rather　than　depleted。　He　did　not　return　to　his　father's　farm　for　two　reasons：　he　was　not　sure　of　the　reception　he　would　get　from　the　villagers　who　must　have　known　that　it　was　he　who　had　betrayed　the　partisans　and　those　who　helped　them；　he　had　no　desire　to　bee　a　farmer　once　more。　During　the　year　of　recuperation；　most　of　which　took　place　in　a　small　hospital　just　outside　Lukow；　he　read　through　the　published　crimes　of　the　Nazi　regime；　always　searching　for　mention　of　his　own　village；　and　one　day　he　came　across　what　he　had　been　looking　for。　Listed　were　the　names　of　locals　and　villagers　who　had　been　shot　for　giving　aid　to　the　underground　movement。　A　hundred　and　thirty…two　people　were　on　that　list；　his　parents　among　them。　Even　now；　when　concern　for　his　own　wellbeing　was　no　longer　acute；　he　felt　no　remorse；　not　even　for　the　fate　of　his　own　mother。　Such　emotion；　never　strong　within　him　anyway；　had　been　entirely　eradicated　over　the　last　few　years。
　　As　time　passed；　life　began　to　flourish　for　Janusz；　who　took　to　the　illegal　trade　he　dealt　in　as　if　born　to　it。　He　supplied　goods…hungry　farmers　and　food…hungry　manufacturers　with　wh　they　desired；　trade　between　the　two　factions　being　lucrative　to　the　middle…man。　But　he　always　operated　in　a　small　way　in　those　early　years；　never　wishing　to　rise　in　fortune　so　much　that　became　visible　to　the　authorities。
　　Janusz　could　have　survived　very　fortably　under　the　munist　system；　except　that　the　older　he　grew　the　more　he　ppered　and　the　more　he　prospered；　the　greedier　he　became。
　　He　bought　a　four…storey　house　in　the　suburbs　of　Lodz　and；　as　front　which　legitimately　enabled　him　to　visit　farmers　arou　the　country；　he　maintained　a　small　farm　equipment　spare…part　workshop。　Middle…age　had　softened　his　caution　though；　and　went　against　his　own　basic　rule。　He　had　gained　too　much　and　was　no　longer　invisible。
　　The　authorities　began　to　take　an　interest　in　the　activities　Janusz　Palusinski。　His　spare…parts　business　was　discreetly　roves　gated　and　it　was　found　that　the　profits　derived　from　it　by　no　means　accounted　for　the　relative　luxury　the　owner　appeared　to　be　living　in。　His　movements　were　watched。　Party　officials　came　to　his　house　to　question　him。　His　answers　were　not　entirely　satisfactory。　Th　took　away　all　documents　found　in　his　home；　warning　him　th　would　return　as　soon　as　the　papers　had　been　thoroughly　studied　and　that　he　was　to　keep　himself　available　until　such　time。　Janus　stole　away　that　same　night；　taking　with　him　what　little　cash　he　had　and　leaving　behind　his　automobile；　knowing　how　easy　it　was　for　the　authorities　to　trace　any　vehicle　on　the　roads　of　Poland。　He　left　the　city　on　foot；　sleeping　in　cheap　lodging　houses　at　night；　travelling　by　bus　during　the　day；　too　afraid　even　to　take　trains。　His　journey　led　him　towards　the　north；　in　the　direction　of　the　great　forests。　He　had　no　idea　why；　panic　and　self…preservation　driving　him　onwards　without　calculation；　only　instinct　telling　him　that　the　dark　forests　were　a　place　to　lose　oneself　and　to　be　lost　to　others。　He　was　aware　of　the　severe　punishment　dealt　to　those　caught　trading　on　the　black　market　and　was　sure　that　his　mind　would　never　stand　another　term　of　imprisonment…too　many　dreadful　memories　would　have　been　rekindled。　There　was　no　grand　plan　to　his　escape；　no　considered　scheme　for　invisibility　once　more。　Janusz　fled　merely　because　he　had　no　other　choice。
　　Because　of　the　furtive　manner　in　which　his　journey　progressed；　it　took　him　several　weeks　to　reach　the　mediaeval　town　of　Grudziadz；　and　by　then　his　money　had　nearly　run　out。　A　basic　plan　had　formed　though　an　idea　that　took　no　details　into　account。　He　would　make　for　the　Baltic　seaport　of　Gdynia；　avoiding　nearby　Gdansk　where　too　many　merchants　knew　him。　There　he　would　bribe　his　way　onto　a　boat。　He　didn't　care　w