Mother and Me (49 page)

“You're very kind to be concerned about the rabbi's getting into Heaven,” Mother continued. “It means that you're a very good person as well. But I've known that for a long time.”

Of course what that meant was that I'd be getting into Heaven too, whether I was christened or not. And suddenly, there I was, hugging my mother in my joy.

I could tell that it surprised her as well and, as she hugged me back, I could hear the little sniffs that meant she was crying. And it all felt so surprisingly good. Mother, still in her babushka kerchief, her eyes and her lips soft and vulnerable without their makeup and now crying, suddenly wasn't a “grownup” anymore, but somebody that was somehow almost a part of me and of whom I was somehow almost a part, the way Kiki and I had been.

We held on to each other for a while and finally Mother pulled away gently. “It's so funny,” she said with a little laugh followed by another sniff, “through all these layers of clothing. We feel so fat.” I laughed too, and it felt so good laughing together.

Now, with a little wiggle, Mother slid a few inches away from me. “Yulian,” she said, as she resettled herself, “I'm going to tell you everything now. Max, Mr. Koppleman, didn't want to frighten you, but I think you deserve to know the truth.” She sniffed one more time, wiped her nose with the back of her wrist, and gave a little, self-conscious laugh. “As I've told you,” she said, “we're going on a very big adventure. Tonight we're going to get a good night's sleep here, and tomorrow morning a man is going to pick us and Max up in a sleigh.”

At the thought of the horse-drawn sleigh, my happiness gained another level. I had never ridden in one.

“The man,” Mother went on, “is a guide. He lives in another town not far from here, and he guides people over the mountains and through the woods into Hungary. There are a few guides like him who get paid a lot of money for doing this because it's hard and dangerous. They come into Lvow and meet secretly with people who want to escape. Do you understand what I'm saying?”

“Yes, if the Russians catch them, they'll be shot or sent to Siberia,” I said.

“That's right. But it's not dangerous for us, you understand, because the Russians don't expect women and children to be going in all this snow. And what I've been doing all this time in Lvow is trying to find one of these guides and convince him to take us. You see, they don't want to take a woman and a child. They don't think we're strong enough to climb the mountains, but they don't know how strong you and I are and how far we can walk. Isn't that right?”

I nodded my head to show that I was still listening. “Mademoiselle and I walked from one end of Lvow to the other,” I said.

“That's right, but these guides don't know that. Well, I finally found the best and the bravest guide of all the guides, and I offered him extra money if he'd take us. I had run into Max Koppleman, who was a friend of your father, and he wanted to go too, so we both had money to pay the guide, and he agreed to take us. The guide will carry you in the deep snow, and Max says he'll help too.”

Now Mother stopped and I saw her looking intently at me. I knew that she wanted to see if I was frightened, but now that I knew I was going to Heaven, Russian border guards held little terror for me. Wolves, on the other hand, were a different story. Wolves lived in the forest and ate people. They even chased sleighs to eat people that fell out. One wolf, I remembered, had
even eaten a sleigh horse, eating his way into the harness until he was pulling the sleigh. “What about wolves?” I asked.

“There are no more wolves in these woods. The hunters have killed them all. There are only wolves in zoos.”

This reassured me. I understood that the stories Kiki read to me were intended for little gullible kids, whom you could tell anything, and that grownups all knew that they weren't true. What Mother and I were about to do, was a grownup thing, and I would now have to start thinking like a grownup.

“Now, this is the plan,” Mother went on. “Tomorrow morning the guide and his nephew are going to pick us and Max up in their sleigh and take us on a road that runs along the base of a small mountain. The border is at the top of the mountain, and when the guards aren't looking, we'll jump out of the sleigh and climb the mountain to the border. Once we're on top, we'll be safe from the Russians.”

“What about the horse and the sleigh?” I asked, concerned.

“The guide's nephew will stay in the sleigh and continue driving to the village. Now, if the Russians stop us before we get a chance to jump out, the guide is going to tell them that he and I are getting married and he's bringing us to his village for the wedding. Max, he's going to say, is my brother, coming to the wedding too.”

This was going to be a real adventure. “We'll fool the Russians, won't we,” I said. “I can pretend I'm sick, and they'll be sorry for me and not suspect anything.”

“That's a good idea. But don't say anything. Remember that we're supposed to be peasants.”

Mother went on talking, but I realized that I shouldn't act too sick because if I really were, Mother wouldn't be taking me out in the cold weather. Maybe I could pretend to cry a little as though my stomach hurt and I wasn't brave. That would certainly allay any suspicions the Russians might have about our trying to escape. Nobody would try to make a kid with a stomachache climb a mountain.

“You know, when I was your age—well, maybe a little older,” Mother said and brought me back to the present, “I used to love adventures. My brother, Pavew, was a year older, but everyone said I should have been the boy and he the girl. Pavew liked to read and play the violin, and I liked to climb trees, swim in the lake, go hiking…. Once we were flying a kite with your grandfather, and it got caught in a tree, and Grandfather said for Pavew to climb up and get it, but he wouldn't. So I climbed up and got it, and when I got down, Pavew said, ‘She's just too stupid to know that you can fall down.'”

Mother laughed as she finished this story, and I did too. It really wasn't all that funny, but it felt so good to laugh together.

“Then there was one time Pavew and I were spending the summer on a farm with Grandmother, and I discovered that I could climb up high in the barn and jump down into this big stack of hay. Pavew wouldn't do that either.”

“Fredek and I did that on the farm too,” I interjected eagerly.

“You did?” Mother said in surprise.

“Yes,” I admitted, wondering what Mother's reaction would be now.

“And did you have the feeling for just a second that you were flying?” she asked.

“I did,” I said, nodding my head enthusiastically. “I spread my arms like this,” I said demonstrating, “and I felt like an airplane.”

We both laughed again. Mother put her arms out like mine. “When I was little we didn't know about airplanes,” she said. And for a reason I couldn't understand, we both found this absolutely hilarious—hilarious and delicious.

When, minutes later, I finally saw Mother's face sober up, I knew just what she was going to say. “You'd better get some sleep now,” she said. I wanted our talk to go on, but I knew that arguing would spoil the mood. “Come on, Meesh,” I said.

There was a chamber pot for me to use under the bed and a pitcher of water and a basin on a little stand. But the water was too cold to wash anything but my hands. Then I took my shoes off and lay down on the bed with Meesh between me and the wall. Mother laid my coat over me on top of the blankets.

“Don't worry about anything,” she said tucking me in. “The guards don't expect a woman and a boy to be trying to escape in this weather. They won't be suspicious of us.”

I reached my arms up, and Mother pressed her soft face against mine. “Kiss Meesh,” I said. Mother leaned across me and gave my bear a kiss. “Good night, Meesh,” she said. “Take good care of your master tonight.”

“He's my son,” I corrected her.

“I'm sorry. Take good care of your father.”

I hugged Meesh very tight and must have fallen asleep almost immediately.

They were whispering when I woke up. The kerosene lamp was glowing dimly, and I could see Mother and Mr. Kopple-man sitting at the table.

“They were dressed as women,” Mr. Koppleman was saying in a very agitated voice.

“Maybe they weren't very convincing,” Mother answered, the calmness of her voice contrasting to his. “Maybe they hadn't shaved recently—how do I know. You discover two men in a sleigh dressed as women and what else are you going to think?”

“Well, they're all going to be on the alert now,” he said. Instinct told me to pretend sleep.

“They can check and see that I'm a woman,” Mother said. She was sounding angry now.

“That's not going to save you when they see you jump out of the sleigh. No, Basia, it's much too dangerous for us now. I'm not going.”

“You're not going? Max, please. I need you to help with Yulian.”

“Don't be ridiculous. I'm not going, and you're not going. The snow is a meter deep, and you wouldn't make it even without the boy.”

“I don't care how deep it is. We're going. Max, please. Be a man—I need you.”

“You're not going. I won't allow it. I forbid you!”

“You forbid me? You're being ridiculous. You're afraid. Max, you're not a man.”

“Yes, I am afraid. I'm afraid for you and the boy. I was Nahtek's friend. What would he have said?” Nahtek had been my father, Nathan.

“Nahtek is dead. Nahtek shot himself when things got too tough for him. He's got nothing to say here. I'm taking his son out of this hell so he can grow up a stronger man than his father. Nahtek was a very good man—Nahtek was a saint, but he wasn't strong enough. If we get through this, Yulek will have today to look back on for the rest of his life and know that he did something heroic. It's the most I can give him.”

“I am thinking of Yulek,” Mr. Koppleman said, but without much conviction.

“You're not a man,” Mother said again. “Go back to Lvow. Go on. I don't want to look at you anymore!”

“Basia, you don't know what you're doing. It's suicide. I'm begging you.” Now he sounded as though he really were begging.

“Go on, get out of here!” Mother hissed. I had never heard her so angry. “I don't want to look at your fat face.”

“You're crazy, Barbara. You're a crazy blah, blah.”

Mother didn't answer. I saw her begin to lay out her solitaire.

“It was your crazy demands that drove Nahtek to his death,” Mr. Koppleman said. “All of Lodz knows that.”

Suddenly I saw Mother scoop up her cards and fling them at the man's face. Mr. Koppleman rocked back in his chair
and almost fell over. “Nahtek killed himself,” Mother said, “because he couldn't face what he thought he had done to his father's business. His note said he didn't want to lead a gray life…. If he had waited two more days….”

Mr. Koppleman stood up, and I thought he was going to hit Mother. I think she did too, because she stopped speaking and stood up with him. “Get out, Max,” she said again, but in a very even voice this time.

Mr. Koppleman turned around and marched out of the room. I saw Mother bend over and begin picking up the cards.

Then Mother was waking me up again. “Get washed, Yulek,” she said. “Breakfast is almost ready.”

I made a face, remembering how cold the water had been last night. Mother laughed. “I poured you some warm water,” she said. For the first time in my life, I realized, I was getting up without having to dress. It was also the day we'd be riding in a sleigh and climbing a mountain.

Then Mother sat down at her solitaire, and I remembered the scene with Mr. Koppleman that Mother didn't know I had seen in the middle of the night. I wondered if anything had changed after I had gone back to sleep. Had Mr. Koppleman come back to say he had changed his mind and was going with us? Or had Mother changed her mind and decided not to go without him? Or had I dreamt the whole thing? Mother seemed deeply absorbed in her solitaire.