Page 16 - Issue 16

me celebrate it now, and taking into account your
assurances for the future, I shall end the hunger strike."

"What's a menorah?"
"Candlesticks."

But a protocol for its confiscation had already been
drawn up, and Osin couldn't back down in front of the
entire camp. As I looked at this predator, sitting at an
elegant polished table and wearing a benevolent smile, I
was seized by an amusing idea.

"Listen," I said, "I'm sure you have the menorah
somewhere. It's very important to me to celebrate the
last night of Chanukah. Why not let me do it here and
now, together with you? You'll give me the menorah, I'll
light the candles and say the prayer, and if all goes well
I'll end the hunger strike."

Osin thought it over and promptly the confiscated
menorah appeared from his desk. He summoned
Gavriliuk, who was on duty in the office, to bring in a
large candle.
"I need eight candles," I said. (In fact I needed nine, but
when it came to Jewish rituals I was still a novice.)
Gavriliuk took out a knife and began to cut the candle
into several smaller ones. But it didn't come out right;
apparently the knife was too dull. Then Osin took out a
handsome inlaid pocketknife and deftly cut me eight
candles.

"Go, I'll call you later," he said to Gavriliuk. Gavriliuk
simply obeyed orders. He was a fierce, gloomy man, and
this sight must have infuriated him.