Page 95 - LEIBY

Chapter 11 95

a few scratches compared to freedom? After another jump, he
found himself outside of the prison grounds.

He walked down the street, his heart thumping but his face
expressionless, and did not turn around once. He smiled to
himself when he remembered the expert investigator who had
come all the way from Moscow and would have to return there
empty-handed. He noticed the few passersby looking at him in
revulsion and realized that his scarred and bleeding face were
obviously quite repelling.

Where should he go? He was afraid to return to the offices
of the border smuggling organization; the NKVD had surely
long discovered it, just as they had discovered him. He was also
reluctant to go to one of the refugee shelters, for he knew that
there were moles and spies planted everywhere. Leiby’s heart
skipped a beat with every car that passed him. Were the police
looking for him? Had his escape been discovered already?

He legs almost buckled under him, and he felt an overwhelming
dizziness. He passed by the hospital building and made a split-
second decision to go inside.

A doctor in a white coat looked at him in concern. “What
happened to you, child?” she asked.

“I only wanted to go home, and a band of hoodlums attacked
me,” Leiby stammered. “They called me ‘Zhid’ and began to hit
me.”

The doctor looked at him skeptically. She took a piece of gauze
soaked in some antiseptic liquid and wiped his face.

“Some of the bruises here are dry, you didn’t get them just now.”

“Yes, they hit me every day, but this time was much worse.”

The doctor poured him a cup of milk. She was Jewish and was
appalled by his story.

“We’ll call the police, we can’t let this go by!”

“No… please don’t call the police…” Leiby begged, a hunted
expression in his eyes.