Last Train to Istanbul (40 page)

“This is Margot Palley, and Samuel and Perla Afnaim—in other words, Sami and Peri Naim.”

The man shook everyone’s hands and wished them a pleasant journey. Then he turned to Selva again. “Young lady, I had the honor of meeting your father in Istanbul.”

“Really! When?”

“Just before traveling here; he was very concerned about you and he came to see me. I promised him I would make sure to see you if you were on this train.”

Selva couldn’t believe her ears. Her heart beat crazily, and her ears began to buzz.

“This is incredible. You mean you actually met my father?”

“That’s right, just before coming here. He visited me at the immigration department’s office in Karaköy. He inquired specifically about this train. You probably know that our department depends entirely on public support. Your father made a very generous donation to us, for which we are extremely grateful.”

Selva heard nothing but the buzzing in her ears. She wanted to cry, but she bit her lip and averted her eyes, trying to stop the tears from running down her cheeks.

Ferit and Monsieur Brodd left, and an elderly man walked in, trying to squeeze a rather large suitcase and briefcase onto the luggage rack.

“I’m sorry, monsieur, the suitcase will have to go in the baggage compartment,” said a conductor passing by. “Why didn’t you leave it there before getting on?”

The man didn’t argue. He left his briefcase on his seat and walked out with the suitcase.

“I think I know that man. Where did I see him before?” muttered Margot. Selva, who was watching her husband return with some parcels, said, “Search me. I don’t know him.”

Rafael walked in and Tarık stood up.

“It’s time for me to say good-bye; if I don’t get off now, I might end up having to travel with you,” he said.

The noise of the engine getting up steam could be heard, but there were so many trains and whistles it was difficult to separate one from another. While Tarık stood, another group of people gathered in the doorway: Constance and Marcel, who’d been taught by Selva in Paris; a tall, young man; and another elderly man walked into the compartment.

Selva and Tarık hugged each other. Tarık kissed Fazıl on the forehead as he played with his train on the floor, and he wished Samuel and Perla a pleasant journey. He nodded good-bye to the others and stepped into the corridor. Margot followed him. She hugged Tarık tightly as the train slowly began to move.

“I’ll always remember you, Margot,” Tarık said, jumping off the train. He bumped into Ferit, who was running back after visiting his wife. He was out of breath, and just managed to shake Tarık’s hand firmly before stepping on the train.

“Take care of yourself, and thanks for everything,” he shouted as the train pulled away.

As the train gathered speed, Margot lowered the window and leaned out, waving good-bye to Tarık with her handkerchief. Selva, Rafo, Perla, and Samuel crushed her against the window, trying to do the same. Ferit, who was still standing on the running board, waved. The tall young man was also waving to someone. Tarık caught a brief glimpse of Margot’s sad face as the train passed by him. He stood there, his hand held high, as the train moved farther and farther away, becoming smaller and smaller in the distance, until it finally disappeared in a cloud of engine smoke.

THE TRAIN

Margot could no longer see Tarık’s silhouette in the distance, so she sat down, closed her eyes, and pretended to sleep to avoid talking to anyone. Just as the train approached Reims, she opened her eyes and again noticed the elderly man sitting opposite her. She certainly knew that face. She was sure she’d seen him before. He hadn’t removed his cap like the other elderly gentleman in the compartment. He was wearing glasses and reading a book. Perla and Samuel were playing a game of battleships together. Because she had been up the whole night, Selva had fallen asleep with her son on her lap. The compartment was quiet. Margot hoped this peace and quiet would continue. She felt like she had no expectations anymore. She couldn’t return to her own country because it was run by the Nazis. Her whole family was scattered; she had been forced to leave her job and the man she had begun to love. She wished she could go on traveling on this train as long as the world turned.
Clickety-clack, clickety-clack…

“Would you like a cigarette, mademoiselle?”

Margot almost jumped out of her seat. “No, thank you.”

“Do you mind if I do?”

“No, not at all,” she said. The young man was sitting right beside her. He was well-groomed, clean, but extremely thin. The skin under his eyes was purple. Margot hoped he didn’t have tuberculosis.

“Are you going to Berlin?”

He was a chatterbox, and all Margot wanted was to be left in peace. She wished this bag of bones would talk to someone else.

“No, I’m going farther,” she replied.

“To Prague?”

She didn’t reply, and pulled out a Hungarian book to read.

“What language is that?”

“Hungarian.”

“So you must be Hungarian.”

“Yes,” Margot replied, burying herself in her book.

“I’m sorry to disturb you. It’s just that I miss talking.”

It was Margot’s turn to feel sorry. She wondered what had happened to him.

“There’s nothing to forgive,” she said. “It’s just that I’m rather unhappy about having to leave Paris; on top of that, I’m tired. Where are you going?”

“To Istanbul. That’s, of course, if we get there.”

“Really?”

“Why are you surprised? Is that such a long way to be going?”

“That’s where I’m going too,” replied Margot.

“So we’ll be together for some time. I’m David, by the way,” the skinny young man said. “David Russo.”

The train was passing through pretty green valleys, past the gardens of suburban houses with children playing and dogs jumping around; women were hanging out their wash and men were mowing the lawns. They traveled through towns and cities too, where one could see the domes of churches in the distance. Looking at all this, one had the impression that all was well with the world.
If an alien visiting the Earth for the first time were on this train, he’d have the same impression. Europe’s hell wasn’t visible from the train’s windows.

The passengers in the compartment, apart from the children playing, were either reading, looking at the passing view, or having a nap. They weren’t talking. Their hearts were heavy. The children were busy asking each other history and geography questions, one after the other. Selva woke up, but she didn’t dare move in case she disturbed Fazıl, who was still sleeping on her lap. Rafael had come and gone twice to check on his wife and son while they were asleep, and Margot had made signs to him that everything was fine.

“How high is Mount Everest?” Perla asked.

“Seven thousand, five hundred meters.”

“Right. What separates Europe from Asia?”

As Samuel was about to answer, the man in the cap spoke for the first time since he had gotten on the train. “Your previous answer was incorrect, young man.”

“Which?” asked Samuel.

“The height of Mount Everest is 8,848 meters not 7,500.”

“How do you know that?”

“I just do.”

Margot moved uneasily in her seat. Not only did she know the face, but she recognized the voice too. She had definitely heard that voice before. She couldn’t resist asking him, “Excuse me, monsieur. I think we have met before, but I just can’t remember where.”

“These things happen, mademoiselle. One can remind one of someone else. I’ve never seen you before.”

“Allow me to introduce myself, then. I’m Margot Palley. I’m Hungarian.”

“Pleased to meet you.”

When the man didn’t respond with his name, Margot looked at Selva quizzically. Constance got up to go to the toilet. She turned
to Selva and said in Turkish, “I need to piss,” so the men in the compartment couldn’t understand. Selva couldn’t help laughing at how Constance expressed herself.

“Well done, Constance,” Selva said. “My efforts have not been in vain.”

David Russo turned red. He wondered if he should tell them he understood Turkish, so as not to embarrass them later if they spoke about private things. As the cathedrals with their domes and spires got nearer, they realized they were arriving at a large city. The train huffed and puffed, slowed down, and finally came to a halt with a big moan. Selva read the sign:
REIMS
.

“Are we stopping here?” asked Marcel.

“Ferit and Rafael know all the details; we should ask them,” Selva answered.

Rafo appeared at the door. The man wearing his cap put on his glasses and started reading again, hiding himself behind his newspaper.

“We’re stopping here for a little while,” said Rafo. “Are you hungry?”

“Can we get off?” asked Constance.

“There’s no need to. We’ve got plenty to eat here,” said Marcel.

Selva saw Ferit from the window, rushing toward the front carriages. Fazıl had woken up and was fidgeting on her lap. “The poor thing has been sitting for hours. Do you think I should take him out for a breath of fresh air?”

“We’ve only got about twenty minutes here. Please don’t go far, Selva,” Rafo warned. “If you’re getting off, perhaps you should get a few things to eat?”

“I’ve got a basket full of food.”

“But the next stop might be over the German border. If you want to get off, you’d better do it here.”

The old man sighed. “What difference does it make, monsieur? We may be in France, but we are under German occupation. It
doesn’t seem to make much difference. Germany, France; France, Germany—the Nazis are everywhere.”

“Yes, but at least French is spoken here. We can understand the language,” said Rafael.

Selva got up and put Fazıl’s jacket on. “Rafo, will you come with me?”

“I have to check the passengers Ferit put me in charge of. There might be an identity check. You’d better go on your own.”

“Is there anything I can get for anyone?” asked Selva.

“I’ll come with you,” said Constance. When she got up, Margot, Marcel, and David Russo left too. No one except the two elderly men and the kids remained in the compartment. The children’s aunt, Camilla, had made them swear again and again that they wouldn’t leave the compartment.

Outside, Margot and Marcel changed platforms looking for cigarettes, and Selva looked for a toilet for her son—the toilet on the train had started to smell bad after the few hours’ journey. When she saw Ferit returning from Evelyn’s carriage, she asked if he wanted any cigarettes.

“Thanks, but no thanks,” he replied. “I’ve got plenty of extras. But I wouldn’t recommend you wander too far. If the train starts moving, it’ll be difficult to get back on with the child.”

“I’ll come back as soon as we’ve found the toilet,” Selva said.

Ferit got on the train and was walking along the corridor when he saw an SS official going into Selva’s compartment. His hair stood on end like a cat’s when it has seen a dog. He prepared himself for the possible danger ahead. He walked slowly and waited beside the door.

“Tickets, please. And your identity cards!” said the SS official.

Suddenly Perla felt a pain in her joints. Her face turned yellow. Samuel reached for his bag and pulled out the passports.

“What’s your name?”

“Sami.”

“Are you Turkish?”

“Yes.”

“Really?”

Samuel repeated his answer in Turkish and handed over the passports. The man checked them.

“And this is your sister?”

“Yes.”

“I’m Turkish,” said Perla in Turkish. Her voice was trembling.

“You don’t look Turkish to me. Did your mother sleep with a carrot?”

Samuel imagined clearing his throat and spitting all over the man’s face. When the official finished with the kids, he turned to the old man, who was sitting quietly.

“Ticket. Identity!”

The old man took his passport and identity card from his pocket. The official glanced at them and returned them. When the other old man’s turn came, Ferit stepped in.

“Monsieur, I’m the group leader,” he said. “Please don’t trouble yourself. I can gather all the passports and identity cards and bring them to you if you like.”

“Is this a tourist carriage? Are you their guide?”

“As you know, it isn’t possible to organize tourist travel these days. This carriage was sent from Turkey to pick up Turkish citizens stranded in Europe. All the stations en route have been informed. Haven’t you?”

“I haven’t been told anything about it.”

“That’s strange. Our embassy was assured that every station was informed before the train departed.”

“If these people are returning to Turkey, what are they doing on a train bound for Frankfurt and Berlin? These tickets are only for Berlin.”

“I have the tickets for the remainder of their journey. I took the precaution of safekeeping them, because there are a considerable number of elderly people and children in the group. I didn’t want them to be confused or lose their tickets. There are also passengers boarding the train in Germany. The Turkish government can’t afford to provide different carriages for each place. We thank God that at least they sent this one.”