Chapter 13

Bern, September 1913

Rebecca pressed the handkerchief to her face and breathed slowly through her mouth. Very slowly. She was grateful the large corridor outside the dissection hall was nearly empty now and few students would notice her weakness.

“I don’t know how I’ll ever get through this,” Lara said, leaning against the wall next to Rebecca. “My cadaver’s eyes stared at me the entire time!” She touched Rebecca’s shoulder. “Are you quite all right? Do you need to vomit again?”

“I think I do, yes.” Rebecca ran, nearly tripping on the skirt tangled between her legs.

Thankfully, the lavatory was nearby. Her stomach heaved, expelling its contents violently. Afterward, she collapsed on the cold tile floor in exhaustion. She felt slightly better, although she was sure the stench of the bodies would never leave her nostrils. She got up, legs trembling, and managed to get herself to the sink, where she splashed cold water on her face.

Better. She was much better now.

Mark and Vlad were waiting alongside Lara in the hallway when she returned. She didn’t want Mark to see her like this!

He held her shoulders and examined her face. “Do you need to sit down for a while?”

She shook his hands off. “I’m all right now. I can bear it. There’s no need to fuss.”

“It’s disgusting,” Lara said to Vlad. “I think the horror of that room will stay with me always.”

“Are you sure you don’t wish to sit down for a while?” Vlad asked Lara, brushing her blonde hair off her face gently.

“We have to get used to this,” Rebecca said. “It’s just that…they all had eyes—looking at us. As if they were still alive. And the entire time I was dissecting, I imagined my man’s life. I saw him getting dressed, going to work, smoking a cigarette.” She looked around to ensure no one else was listening.

Lara laughed. “Did you think you murdered yours, then?”

“Yes! I felt like I was cutting into his live arm. I thought any moment he would start screaming. I think that arm will haunt me for ages. And that smell…” Rebecca said in a horrified whisper.

“I’ll make some scented handkerchiefs for us to wear over our faces. I heard this helps.”

“Good solution,” Vlad said, rolling his eyes. “You’ll have your faces covered so you can’t see anything. How will you learn?”

“What do you know? You have no understanding of what it’s like to be there. You sit with your books, then argue back and forth about law all day. Pointless. Pfft,” Lara said.

Vlad’s eyes blazed, and he straightened up, standing up to Lara. “You need to learn to show some respect. My wife will not disrespect me.”

“I’m not your wife yet. And I will disrespect you all I want or all you deserve. So you better not deserve.” She gave him a kiss in reconciliation. “I know, I know. You study law to become a politician. Arguing and giving speeches is not easy, either.”

“Stop being small children,” Mark chided them, smiling.

“Remember, Rebecca. We can’t let Professor or the men know that we are disturbed by the cadavers. They’ll laugh at us and think we’re weak females. We must show them we can survive this dissection room.”

“Maybe next time it’ll be easier,” Rebecca said. “Do you ever stop thinking of who those people were when they were still alive?” she asked Mark.

“I don’t think of them alive,” said Mark. “You have to think of how you will save some person’s life one day because of what you do here.”

“Well, I just hope all of this learning leads to something good. Every day that I’m in Anatomy I feel as if I’m an embarrassment to my father. Professor Kolle almost growls at me when I attempt to answer his questions.”

“Just do the best to please yourself.” Mark hugged her.

As the group approached the exit, the front door opened and Professor Kocher walked in. Mark bowed his head and greeted him. Rebecca was about to greet him, as well, when he started talking in his quiet but stern voice.

“Mark, I’ll be performing a complete thyroidectomy tomorrow morning on a forty-four-year-old female who’s been suffering from a goiter. She’s been experiencing heart palpitations, weakness, and general debility. This would be an excellent case for you to observe.”

Mark nodded. “Of course, Professor. Thank you for the opportunity.”

Kocher dismissed Mark’s politeness with a wave of the hand. “She and her husband are exiled Russian politicals, in hiding from the Tsar. I suppose this may be of interest to some of you? They reside in Poland, but I expect they’ll need to remain here for three to four weeks after the operation.”

Lara and Vlad looked at each other in excitement, then asked in unison, “What’s the patient’s name?”

“You’ll find out if you show up to observe the surgery, Fräulein Silber. You’re welcome as well.” Kocher turned to Rebecca. “Fräulein Miller, are you interested in observing this operation also? I believe your father told me you expressed some desire to offer physician services to female patients. In that case, surgical cases of goiter may be of interest to you?”

Rebecca really had no interest in surgery, especially not after today, but an invitation from Kocher was an honor not to refuse. “Of course, Doctor.”

With a small nod of his head, the professor was on his way, and the students proceeded outside. Lara grabbed Rebecca’s arms and spun her around so swiftly she nearly dropped her books.

“Stop, silly! You’ll find anything fun, won’t you?”

“A secret person from Russia? Watching Kocher remove a thyroid? What could be better?” Lara said. “Do you know a patient never dies in his care? He is an absolute magician at surgery. Very tedious to watch—students have been known to fall asleep. But remarkable if you can stay awake!”

“You’ve seen him operate, haven’t you?” Rebecca asked Mark.

“I have. Many times.”

“What was it like?”

“He makes everyone wash hands for long time and even scrub nails. Then he wears special gloves that have been cleaned to prevent bacterial infection. He believes very much in cleanliness to prevent infection.”

“But that must take so much time!”

“It does, but his patients stay alive after the operation. He works slow and explains every step to the students. He has special clamps to close the arteries and prevent bleeding.”

“I would really like to watch him,” Lara said in awe.

“Well, you will. Tomorrow, at eight sharp, in the surgical theater. He doesn’t allow latecomers,” Mark said.

“I’ll be there.” Lara said.

“Goodbye.” Rebecca hung around for a moment, wondering, hoping.

“Can I have permission to walk you home?” Mark asked.

She nodded to Mark, her heart dancing with joy. Mark had been walking her home more and more over the last few weeks. It was a long walk, past the main university buildings and then along four streets to Rebecca’s home. She had learned to walk slowly, stretching the time they had together. Sometimes they stopped at a park across the street, where the linden and oak trees gave them cover. She wasn’t sure if she could tell her parents about him walking her home yet. Papi had made it quite clear never to tell Mother about Mark helping her that day last winter. Rebecca wasn’t even sure that Mark’s attention to her was much more than friendship. She figured she had enough time to find out before telling anyone but Sarah.

“What will you do after you become a surgeon?” Rebecca asked as they crossed a narrow street.

“I will get a license from the Tsar to open a practice in a big city, and then my family can come and live with me,” Mark said.

“So you will leave Switzerland?” A pang of sadness made itself known.

“I will have to go take care of my family. They have sacrificed a great deal to help me learn medicine. I can’t abandon them.” He squeezed her hand.

“I understand. If you don’t take care of them, they won’t be able to leave the Pale of Settlement you’ve talked about. What’s it like there?” She asked.

“There is great poverty for the Jews. They are kept to the poor area of each village and not allowed to get land, to do trade outside, or to get help from authorities. If everyone gets ill, gentiles receive medicine but Jews are left to die. Police tell Ukrainians to attack the Jews every so often, to make sure they remember they are not welcome there. I think Ukrainians wish the Jews would die or leave. And sometimes there are ‘pogroms.’ Villagers come and break our things, set fire to the grain, and steal the horses and chickens.”

“But that’s absolutely unacceptable! How can people do such things to other human beings?”

“It’s amazing of what evil people are capable. Especially if paid well with vodka by the police and promised money. But we put out fires, buy more horses and chickens, grow more grain, and clean up our things for the Shabbat. We must endure and go on.”

“I don’t see how you can endure this quietly.”

“That’s why I’m here. I know I can give my family a better life.”

“It must be a very great burden to have to take care of so many relatives,” Rebecca said sadly.

“Thank you for listening,” he said, taking her hands.

She squeezed his hands gently. He was beginning to mean a great deal to her, more than she should allow him to. Suddenly inspired, she stopped, pulled up on her tiptoes, and kissed him on the cheek. Come to think of it, she really liked the idea of keeping Mark a secret from her parents for now. Especially when he held her hands and kissed them gently, like he was doing right now. And what was the point in telling anyone about him if he planned to return home anyway? But how would she ever cope with him going away?