The Wolves at My Shadow, page 13
“I’d be delighted,” she said.
I was so surprised! Paps brought a chair over from an adjoining table.
A waiter arrived to take Katya’s order before she had finished adjusting her napkin. “Eggs, fruit, and vodka,” she said.
Paps told her again how indebted and grateful we were to her for her assistance in recovering our things. She smiled. “It’s the Russian way.”
When the waiter returned with Katya’s order, she didn’t waste any time before addressing Paps. “I’m curious how you knew of the NKVD and its hunt for the thieves with stolen passports.”
This was what Mutsch was waiting for. “Yes, dear,” she commented dryly, “do tell us.”
He stammered. “Katya, I’m reluctant to say anything that . . .”
“I know,” Katya said, “but you must confide in me. I didn’t know that the NKVD were on the train.”
Paps’ face drained of colour. He was nervous.
“Well, if I must,” he said.
“Please do,” Mutsch and Katya implored simultaneously.
We broke into laughter at their curious duet! Paps realized that he would have to explain sometime so he told his story.
“A few days ago when the porter was leaving our compartment I remembered my first impression of him. I didn’t like the way his cold eyes looked into mine. I thought it odd that he spoke in French since all the other porters in the first few railcars spoke German. Anyway, when I realized my wallet was missing, I immediately suspected him. Then, one night while I was in the club car by myself, Gregori, Mutsch’s favourite waiter . . .”
He stopped to smile at Mutsch, who blushed.
He continued, “. . . passed through the car on his way to the front of the train. That was unsettling to me. One of the other passengers had mentioned that the kitchen staff had accommodations near the back of the train, practically the last car. There’d be no reason for any waiter to be this far forward. Also, I did notice that every time we were in the dining car Gregori made it his business to come to our table with Mutsch’s caviar, even when another waiter already had begun to serve us.”
Katya asked, “Then why didn’t you bring this to my attention?” She had not touched her eggs or fruit but I did see her swirl a mouthful of vodka then swallow hard.
Paps was contrite. “It was only a suspicion, at that time baseless. But, then I thought sometimes a rumour has more power than we imagine it will.”
“And that’s when you made the comment about the NKVD to the man at the next table,” Katya concluded. “You were hoping Gregori would overhear and then do something rash that would give away his guilt?”
“Yes,” Paps said, “I didn’t want to make unfounded accusations.”
Katya waved her empty glass as a waiter passed by. “It’s extraordinary that you would conceive of such a ruse.”
The waiter returned, placing another glass in front of Katya. She flicked her hand at the eggs and fruit. The waiter removed her plates.
“You may be surprised to know, Herr Völker, that I was conducting my own investigation and also presumed that your porter was responsible. Passports are worth, how does the proverbial saying go, their absolute weight in gold?” She drank from her glass. “We were monitoring the interaction between the porter and Gregori. When Gregori left the dining car in search of the porter we knew for certain. We already had the porter in custody by the time Gregori arrived, and well, you can imagine his look of shock and surprise. In my country stealing is a capital offence. They will be dealt with accordingly.”
Katya stood up, apologized again for our inconvenience, and then patted the top of my head. “You know I’m in charge of all the enforcement officials on this train. We would never request the help of the NKVD. There’s no need to.”
She winked at Paps, quickly trying to conceal the smile that crept across her face. “In the future, though, please leave this kind of thing to me, yes?”
She handed money to the waiter and then left the dining car.
Mutsch turned to Paps. “You never cease to amaze me, my darling,” is all she could think to say.
Our Secret is Safe
May 1936
Boredom overtook me. There’s only so much to do on a train. A fog of repetition and a cloud of monotony were passengers, too, always with me. I read my book several times, played word games with Paps and Mutsch, dallied in the club car as the train hurtled through the Russian landscape, danced in the corridors on my way to and from the dining car, fell into naps during the day, and wrote letters to Gerta, Omi and Opa, and my other relatives and friends. I’d run out of paper but Katya graciously had given me handfuls of flyers, pamphlets, and information booklets, most printed on one side, their other side blank. “Direct your reader’s attention to the opposite face of the paper so they’ll see where you are,” she urged, “a souvenir of sorts, yes?”
We came upon a river over which a bridge was built. As the bridge came into view I was doubtful it would be strong enough to bear the weight of the train. For several increasingly fearful moments I imagined that when we were halfway across its span the bridge would collapse, throwing the entire train and all its passengers into a watery grave.
As we crossed I felt the bridge swaying from left to right in cadence with the train’s forward motion. The massive supports beneath squealed in an effort to bear the load of the train. This is where our voyage ends, I remember thinking. But the train cleared the bridge. It proceeded slowly, a distance of perhaps several hundred metres, before it stopped at an enormous station. I saw a placard with letters of which I only can recall the first: H.25
I placed my nose against the window. There were hundreds of people coming and going on the platform. The station was cavernous, much larger than any I’d seen since we left Moscow.
Paps entered the compartment from the corridor. “We’ll be here for a few hours while the train is restocked with food and supplies, Lorechen,” he said.
Just then Mutsch came from the lavatory. “Can we walk about for a while?”
Paps frowned. “I know it’s been tiresome to be pent up all these days but Katya told us we’re never to leave the train without her. Let me see if she might escort us and some other passengers on a brief stroll about the station.”
Mutsch and I looked out at the platform, as forlorn as young children peering into a candy store.
“I’m sorry,” Paps said as he reentered the cabin. “Katya said there are no plans to detrain. Apparently, there would be too much commotion with other trains boarding and workers bringing supplies aboard and it would be too difficult to monitor everyone.”
Mutsch and I were disappointed. “There mustn’t be enough police to do so,” Mutsch reasoned.
We had imagined parading around the station, if only for a short while. Perhaps we could sneak off the train and stand on the platform near the doorway to our car. The fresh air would be a welcomed treat. We haven’t been on solid ground for quite some time.
Mutsch looked at me. “I know what you’re thinking but it’s best that we stay where we are rather than risk any sort of incident that would draw attention to us.”
And so, Paps and Mutsch retired to their room. I nestled down on my bed, peering out my window with envy, longing to be among the people moving about.
For hours workmen and police swarmed the train, hustling on and off like bees at a hive, buzzing from task to task.
When the train eventually left the station it rolled out of the city and its environs and began to barrel through a dense and endless forest. I recognized evergreens of all sorts, including firs, spruce, and cedar. The view was so monotonous I fell asleep. For the first time in a rather long time the rhythm of the train was soothing.
Hours later I woke up. The scenery had not changed. The forest was as green and as dense as it was hundreds of kilometres before. Had we not made any progress?
Another day passed. On our way to the dining car that afternoon, a German passenger told Paps our next stop would be Krasnoyarsk. All across Russia I had a terrible time with most place names but this one has stayed with me.
We were well into our meal when Katya and four policemen entered the car. She smiled, waving at us. I saw her point to a vacant table. The men rushed to ready a place for her. One pulled a chair back. Katya sat and then the other policemen did as well.
“It’s impolite to stare, Lorechen,” Mutsch said.
“I know but it’s so interesting how she commands such respect from the men,” I said.
“Perhaps it’s respect tempered with a hearty dose of fear,” Paps said with a slight chuckle.
“Yes,” I said, “I’m sure it is.”
We were about to leave our table when I saw Katya animatedly talking to the policemen, her hands gesturing a point of clarification or one of insistence as they scribbled in their notebooks.
“Lorechen,” Mutsch said, “you’re staring again.”
I turned away. “Sorry,” I said.
Leaving, we smiled at Katya. She returned a radiantly happy face to us.
I looked back one last time, and I know I was staring again. This time I noticed Katya’s policemen did not appear cheerful at all.
With my temple pressed against the window in my room I saw the perfectly parallel tracks burrowing through the thick forest. We were on our way again, the train barreling through the countless legions of trees. The next stop was not for several hours and I was determined to make the most of the time. I would read from my book and enjoy once again the fairyland magic that had captivated me from the first readings in the library of our home in Wilmersdorf with Paps and Gerta.
I must have fallen asleep because I was startled awake. I hit my head on the window when the train slowed down. Then it came to a screeching stop. We were not at a station but in the middle of nowhere, the trees flanking the long line of railcars, sentries at their posts.
As Paps came into our compartment I heard him say to Mutsch, “There are mechanical problems with the locomotive. We’ll have to wait here until maintenance personnel and parts can come from the next town.”
“How long will it take?” I asked.
“I don’t know, Lorechen, so we’ll have to be patient.”
For once, I was frustrated not to feel the motion of the train. I was annoyed and disappointed to be stuck in the forest, hundreds of kilometres from our next stop. Paps and Mutsch also were discontented.
The sun was beginning to set. Paps suggested we freshen up and then go to the dining car for an early supper. “It’s Friday so let’s say a prayer before we go.”
We joined hands and bowed our heads. In Hebrew, Paps said, “We lift up our hands and our hearts to the Lord. We are grateful for our safety and beg for the safety of our family and friends wherever they may be. Bless Omi and Opa, bless my brothers and my sister, bless the siblings and family of my beloved Doris, and bless all our friends who we hold close to our hearts. We lift up our hands and our hearts to the Lord.” We stood motionless for a time and then Paps and Mutsch recited another prayer. “Blessed art thou, O Lord our God, King of the universe, who hath such as these in His world.”
“Mutsch,” I whispered, “I don’t recall that prayer. What is it?”
She cupped my chin in her hands. “On seeing beautiful trees, Lorechen, there’s a prayer for that. And we’ve seen so many!”
Katya was seated in the dining car when we arrived. I waved to her and she waved back. Paps said, “Why don’t you ask Katya if she’ll join us for supper, Lorechen.” Paps and Mutsch went to find a table and I skipped over to Katya.
“Hello, little one,” she said with a warm smile.
I was so excited to see her that I blurted out, “My father asks that you please join us for supper.”
“No, thank you,” she said. Her eyes darted toward Paps and Mutsch, eyeing them coldly. Then she looked at me but said nothing. Her gaze was searching, almost annoyingly probing. Finally she said, “Tell your father I need to speak with him in private after you finish your meal.”
“Yes, Katya,” I said.
At our table I told Paps what Katya had said. Mutsch was concerned. “Do you have any idea what this is about?” she asked Paps.
“No, I don’t.” Then he asked me, “How did Katya seem when she said that? Was she angry? Upset? What was the tone of her voice?”
“I believe she is bothered by something,” I said.
Katya stayed at her table the entire time we were having supper. She did not have any food brought to her, just a small glass that was filled several times. I thought, it must be vodka.
Paps stopped at Katya’s table on our way out while Mutsch and I waited by the door. After a few minutes Paps joined us and we left. Along the corridor I kept turning back to see the expression on Paps’ face. He looked as cold as a stone in winter, his expression blank.
Inside our compartment he sat hunched over on his bed with his head cradled in his hands.
“What’s wrong?” Mutsch asked as she sat down beside him.
“It’s Katya,” he said in a whisper. “On her way through the corridor to the dining car she overheard us talking in our room. She wants to discuss it with me first thing tomorrow morning.”
“That’s all right,” I said. “We were just praying. I’m sure Russians pray, too.”
Mutsch was horrified. “Did she hear us speaking in Hebrew?”
“I don’t know.”
Mutsch was gasping now. “What’ll we do if she accuses us of being Jews?”
Paps and Mutsch stood up holding hands. “I don’t know,” he said.
“Katya is our friend,” I said.
“Yes, Lorechen, she is, but it may be her duty to report the presence of Jews. If she does ask, I’ll deny it,” he said. “She’s seen our papers. We have come this far with our charade and we will not give up now. If she accuses me, I’ll say I was speaking in a German dialect.”
Mutsch let go of Paps and began feverishly wringing her hands. “No!” she cried out, “No! It is enough! We are who we are! I will no longer hide our faith! You’ll tell her the truth!”
I was terrified. What would happen to us? Here we were in the middle of the forest, the police on our train. Would we be taken away like Gregori and the porter? Would we suffer the same fate?
The next morning Mutsch stirred me from my sleep. “Right now, Lorechen, up and dressed,” she said. I rose quickly. I didn’t feel any motion, the train must still be stagnant in the forest. Quickly, I changed from my nightclothes and met Paps and Mutsch in their room.
Paps looked weathered. His right eyelid was flittering. For the first time in my life, I saw the impact that worry and age were having on him.
He took a deep breath. “I’ll go meet with Katya.”
As soon as Paps left, Mutsch blanched before my eyes. “I’m so worried,” she said, “that after all this, after all we’ve done, we will have failed to keep you safe.” She was crying.
“Mother,” I said, “you and father have never failed me.”
We embraced for a moment. “Thank you, Lorechen.” She was still crying. She sat on the bed. I sat beside her, held her hands, and rested my head on her shoulder. “Please don’t cry. I love you and Paps more than anything. I’m so blessed to have you as parents.”
“You’re my angel,” she said. “But right now you need to take a walk for a bit, maybe to the dining car for some breakfast. You can even have a cookie.”
“Yes, mother.”
“But don’t leave the train,” she said. “We’re stuck here and there’s no telling when we’ll be moving on. We don’t know what will transpire between your father and Katya so when they have finished speaking and he returns we must be near one another in case . . . so quickly go . . . quickly.”
She got up, kissed my cheek, and then went into the lavatory. From inside she reminded me, “Do not leave the train. Come right back.”
While strolling through the corridors I passed several passengers who regarded me with greetings. I felt the warmth from outside as I crossed from one car to the next. When I got to the club car I saw the two couples from several days earlier, the ones with the jewellery, again impeccably dressed, their clothes of shining rich fabrics neatly pressed, the women’s coiffures flawlessly arranged, the men’s perfectly knotted neckties. I sat down in the first seat, as far from them as possible. But within a few minutes they left the club car to walk along the gravel edging of the tracks. It was then that I saw scores of people milling about outside. I was the only one still in the rail car.
The windows to the car were open, allowing cool breezes to enter as I stared out at the wall of trees. I was snapped out of my daydream when I saw a massive flock of birds flying in formation, winging their way from north to south. Although they were far away, they looked to be swans or geese. Moments later I saw a large elk and its calf peeking out from in between two large trees. They stood still, staring at the sleeping iron monster in front of them. They were ready to cross the tracks but couldn’t because the train was in their way and there were people all about. They disappeared back into the dark forest.
Just then I heard footsteps in the gravel below. I looked down and saw the top of someone’s head, the hair on it as straight as nails. I knew it was Katya. Right behind her was Paps. They walked a few more steps and stopped. I heard Katya say that she required an explanation.
“For what?” Paps asked.
Katya held Paps’ arm. “I’m concerned about what I heard last night as I passed by your compartment.”
“I don’t know what you mean,” Paps protested. “Perhaps my wife and I were talking too loudly. I’m sorry if we disturbed you.”
She let go of Paps’ arm. “That’s not what I’m talking about,” she said curtly.
Paps insisted again. “I don’t know what you mean.”
They walked a few more steps. I tiptoed to the next seat. I worried that I might be discovered but I couldn’t help myself.
