Mother and Me (50 page)

“Alicia is making scrambled eggs for you,” Mother said. Scrambled eggs were my very favorite food, but I was allowed them rarely, and then only in the singular, since they weren't good for me. “Yanek will be here soon,” Mother said. Yanek, I presumed, was the name of our guide, which meant that we were still going.

I didn't think much of Alicia's scrambled eggs. She had put something in them that gave them a tang that I didn't like in
my eggs. But remembering the difficulties of last night's dinner, I ate them quietly.

The rabbi's wife was in her chair, the one I had eaten in last night, mending a sock. The other chair was empty. I wondered if the rabbi had died during the night. That would mean that he was probably in Heaven by now. He wouldn't have to wear his overcoat and gloves up there any more or have his legs wrapped up in a blanket.

After breakfast we went back to our room to wait for Yanek. Mother did her solitaire, but I had nothing to do. I tried passing the time by telling Meesh about the sleigh ride and the climb that was coming, but I found I didn't want to talk about it. Instead, I found myself thinking about the rabbi up in Heaven where, I knew, he would be young again and reunited with his parents and grandparents, assuming that they had been good.

Of course he would also be introduced to his great-grandparents, who had probably died before he was born, and of whom there would be eight. And then his great-great-grandparents of whom there were even more, and he would have to try to remember who was who.

“He should have been here hours ago,” Mother said at one point, speaking, I think, more to herself than to me. A little later she said angrily, “You don't keep people waiting three hours.”

Then Mother turned to me. “You'd better put Meesh in your backpack,” she said.

“In my backpack?” The suggestion was outrageous. He wouldn't be able to see anything. He'd be frightened not knowing what was happening.

“You will need both hands free,” Mother said. “Put him in the backpack or leave him here.”

I felt a surge of anger at Mother, but I knew she was right.

I got down off the bed and undid the flap on my backpack. I felt around the bed for Meesh so that I would not have to look at him and plunged him head first into the knapsack. But I knew I had done something grown up. I realized also that a package of some sort had been added to the knapsack.

There was a knock on our door. Mother went to open it, and I saw a young man's face above a thick sheepskin jacket. He wore no hat, and his black hair fell a little over one of his dark eyes.

He looked around the room quickly. “Where is Kopple-man?” he asked. “They said he's gone back to Lvow?”

“He has,” Mother said. “He changed his mind.”

“I don't give back money,” the young man said. His accent was different from the peasant accent I had become accustomed to.

“He doesn't ask for his money,” Mother said. She was packing her cards in the sack she had carried from Lvow. “This is my son, Yulian. We're ready to go.”

The young man turned on his heel and led the way out of the house. Mother detoured to say goodbye to the rabbi's wife. The woman and the younger one were at the table peeling vegetables. “Thank you for your hospitality,” Mother said, handing something to the older woman, who quickly stuffed it into a pocket of her sweater.

“Blah, blah,” the woman said, and Mother bowed her head respectfully. Then Mother handed something to the younger woman who had stood up. The woman curtsied.

“Goodbye, Rabbi,” Mother said turning toward the two armchairs, and I realized that the old man was back in his chair now.

“He doesn't hear,” the old woman said.

Mother crossed to where the old man was sitting. I saw him look up at her. He began to say something, but began to cough instead. Mother leaned over and patted one of his gloved hands. The book dropped onto the blanket in his lap, then slipped to the floor. Immediately his hands began searching for it in the empty lap with quick, nervous movements while he continued looking at Mother. Mother squatted down and picked his book off the floor. She handed it into the fluttering fingers, which wrapped around it hungrily. Then Mother followed Yanek outside, and I followed her.

“It's snowing!” Mother said in surprise. Large flakes were floating lazily to the ground.

“They don't see so good in the snow,” Yanek answered.

And there, in front of the house, stood a horse and a sleigh. The horse was brown with a black mane and tail. His muzzle was plunged into a leather feedbag, and when he turned his head to look at us, I saw that he had a white star on his forehead. The sleigh was green with black trim, though the paint was peeling. A blanket of fur lay across the interior, and, at the front of the sleigh, a boy not much older than I, his face covered with pimples, causally leaned against the reins hanging over the dashboard. A tall black whip stood in its holder beside him. Suddenly I was filled with the greatest envy, and would have changed places with him in an instant, pimples and all.

Yanek pulled back a corner of the fur robe and awkwardly extended a hand to help Mother climb into the sleigh. I followed, eschewing assistance.

“That's all. The other isn't coming,” Yanek said to the boy. Then he walked to the front to unstrap the feedbag from the horse's head. I laughed as the horse, reluctant to surrender the rest of his lunch, followed the bag with his nose as far as he could. The boy made a clucking sound, and the horse stepped forward. Yanek stepped on the runner as the sleigh moved by him and casually swung himself into the sleigh beside me.

Nobody said anything as the sleigh picked up speed. The little village was quickly left behind. The road of packed snow stretched ahead of us in a straight line as far as I could see through the falling snow.

I had never had the cold wind blow in my face that way before. Every once in a while, I could catch a delicious whiff of the horse. I opened my mouth to catch snowflakes. When my face grew too cold, I would duck down into the fur robe with its own animal smell.

Mother kept looking straight ahead toward the mountains. She held a corner of the robe up in front of her face to break the wind, but not close enough to be able to smell it.

“So Missus lived in a big house in Warsaw?” Yanek said after a while.

“An apartment,” Mother answered, not taking her eyes off the mountains.

“Missus travels much?” he asked. I had the impression that he was trying to start a conversation.

“No,” Mother told him. It wasn't true, so I understood that she didn't want to talk.

After another while, the man said, “When we talk to the border guards, I will have to say, you, to Missus, like I would to my sweetheart.”

“That's all right,” Mother said. “Mister can call me you now if he wants.”

“Maybe I will to get in practice,” he said with a little laugh. “How do you like the sleigh ride?”

“I like riding in your sleigh very much.” I could tell that Mother was trying to be polite, but her mind was somewhere else.

“Our village is behind that mountain,” Yanek said, pointing to our left. “When we reach that little mountain over there,” he went on, pointing straight ahead this time, “the road will stop and another road will go left and right along the foot of the mountain. First there will be a guardhouse, and that is where I will tell that Missus—I mean you,” and he laughed at his mistake, “are coming to marry me in my village. Then we turn left toward my village, and there will be guards walking back and forth along the road every two hundred meters approximately.

“When they can't see us anymore from the guardhouse, Antek will stop and feed the horse. Then, when I see the guard in front and guard in back both walking away from us, we will jump out of the sleigh and walk as fast as we can to the top of the mountain. I will carry Missus's son on my back. Once we are on top of the mountain we are safe across the border. Then we walk to the next village.”

“I understand,” Mother said. Nobody said anything else till we reached the guardhouse just before the mountain.

Two soldiers in their long coats and green pointed hats came out of the guardhouse as we approached, rifles slung over their shoulders. Antek reined the horse to a stop and Yanek surprised me by addressing them in neither Polish nor Russian. I recognized it as Ukrainian, which is similar to both, but not a language I understood except for the odd Polish or Russian-sounding phrase. I knew that he was explaining that he was bringing Mother home to marry her. His tone was very jolly, and the two soldiers laughed. Yanek handed one of the soldiers some folded papers, at which the man only glanced before handing them back.

The soldier now walked around to Mother's side of the sleigh and reached for her wool hat. He pushed some of it back from Mother's face. Mother lowered her eyes shyly, which I knew had to be make-believe and would have made me laugh under different circumstances. The soldiers said something to Yanek, and they all laughed. I saw the boy Antek blushing.

The second soldier had lifted a corner of the fur robe to look underneath. The absence of contraband seemed to satisfy his curiosity. The guard said something else to Yanek that I could tell by his body language meant for us to go.

At that point, Yanek produced a bottle of red wine from a pocket deep inside his jacket. He held its neck in his large fist and raised it over his head for a moment, then tossed it across the sleigh to one of the guards. Catching it deftly, the soldier raised it the same way over his own head. He said something to Mother, who again lowered her eyes in that funny way. Then Yanek said something to Antek, who slapped the reins on the rump of the surprised horse, and we were on our way again.

“They will drink to our health,” our guide said to Mother with a wink.

Looking ahead for the first time, I now saw the “little mountain” not a hundred yards in front of us. It was a long, fairly
straight ridge with trees on top, but nothing but snow on the slope facing us. It really didn't look vary high.

“That's the border, up there where the trees begin,” Yanek explained.

“They cleared all the trees between here and the border. But don't worry. If we don't show ourselves to the guard, he won't see us,” he said with another wink, a statement that seemed too obvious to make sense. “We climb to the top as fast as we can before they change the guard, then follow the stream to the village.”

I could not help looking at Yanek with admiration and looked forward to my ride up the hill on his back.

We came to the end of our road and the horse turned left on his own. The road was only mostly-covered sleigh tracks. Ahead, I saw another soldier in the road, walking in the same direction as we were heading. It wasn't till our horse drew even with him, that the soldier noticed our presence. Turning quickly, he seemed to recognize Yanek, and his face broke into a grin. Yanek shouted something to him and threw him a bottle of wine. The soldier fumbled as the bottle fell through his hands into the snow. He bent over to pick it up, then raised it to shoulder level to show that he had recovered it as we moved on.

Soon we passed another soldier, who recognized Yanek as well. Yanek threw him a bottle too. This one was caught.

“They all know Mister, don't they,” Mother said.

“I make sure they like me,” Yanek answered. Then Antek pulled the horse to a stop. Far ahead I could see a speck that must have been the next border guard.

Antek got out of the sleigh with the leather feedbag, and I knew that this was where we would be jumping into the snow. My heart began to race.

“Put your knapsack on your back,” Mother said to me. I obeyed.

Yanek stood up and turned to look back at the road we had just passed. Mother and I both turned with him. The guard
behind us raised his wine bottle as though in greeting and immediately turned around to walk the other way.

“All right, quickly,” Yanek whispered. I wondered why he was whispering. “Now jump!”

Mother scrambled out of the sled and into the snow beside the road. She sank almost to her knees. A little cloud of snow rose up around her legs.

“It's light snow,” Yanek said behind me as I followed Mother.

There was something slippery under the snow, and I found myself sitting down. The snow was up to my shoulders.

“Oh, Yulek!” Mother said. “Get up quickly.” She began fumbling for my hand. “Are you all right?”

“I'm all right,” I assured her. Getting to my feet with the backpack wasn't easy. Mother pulled me up. I was standing almost to my hips in snow.

“Oh, my God!” Mother suddenly cried. “Oh, my God!”

I turned in the direction that she was looking. I saw our sleigh pulling away—fast. Holding the reins, slapping them sharply along the horse's, back was our guide, Yanek.

“He's left us!” Mother said. “That blah, blah, blah, blah, blah has left us!” she yelled, and I was afraid the guard would hear her. “He took my money and then he left us! He was supposed to carry you!”

Suddenly, Mother was waddling through the snow after the sleigh. I looked back at the guard who, miraculously, hadn't heard us. I ran after Mother. The snow was surprisingly light, and offered little resistance.

“It's only to the top of the hill,” I said. “I can climb that by myself. Then we just follow the stream to the village.”

Mother stopped and turned to face me. I could see her forcing a smile over her face. “My little soldier,” she said.

“We have to hurry before the guard sees us,” I said.

“Yes, yes,” she agreed. “We can't stay here.”

I started up the hill, hoping she would follow.

In a moment, Mother had passed me. “Get behind me,” she commanded, “and walk in my tracks.”

“No, no,” I insisted. “I can walk by myself.”

“Walk behind me,” Mother repeated. Then she added, “We can take turns breaking the snow.”