The Street Sweeper (65 page)

‘Yes, tell everyone what happened here.’ And the neighbour was heard by the prisoner in the next cell along who in turn repeated the plea.

In the middle of the night, some time just after 2 am, prisoners in the basement of the prison block were woken by the call as it progressed from prisoner to prisoner. One by one and then more and more of them together they were calling out to anyone who might hear them, ‘Tell everyone what happened here,’ and as Noah and Jakub made their way along the dark stone basement corridor the call followed them. At every cell they passed, each prisoner repeated the same incantation. No one there could hope to be saved but this made sense to call for; this made sense to pray for. That was how it came to pass that late one night in the cold of early winter, 1944, the prisoners in the basement of the prison block in Auschwitz cried out together to whoever might survive, ‘Tell everyone what happened here.’ ‘Tell everyone what happened here.’ ‘Tell everyone what happened here.’

*

Over a number of sleepless nights Adam permitted his mind to run riot with the possibility that he might uncover something really solid about the role of the men of the 761st Tank Battalion, a black battalion, with respect to their role in the liberation of the most westerly of all the Nazi concentration camps, Natzweiler-Struthof. But when reason intruded into his nocturnal speculations he realised, just on the basis of numbers alone, that it was really very unlikely that of all the troops in the Allied 6th Army Group, it was members of the 761st that were in the probing parties. And he soon learned that, in any event, scouting parties were under orders to engage with the enemy only in self-defence. To compound the improbability of the scouting troops encountering a satellite camp of Natzweiler-Struthof, Adam found that the closest one was ten to twenty kilometres to the east of the Rhine.

Nor did the 761st cross the Rhine near any of the Natzweiler-Struthof satellite camps in the assault by the entire 6th Army Group that General
Devers had planned because, by order of the Supreme Commander of the Allied Armies in the West, General Dwight D. Eisenhower, and to the dismay of Devers, the assault did not proceed. This was despite the weak German defences on the other side of the Rhine and the opportunity that presented for Devers’ Army Group to cross the river and attack the German 1st Army, which was at the time engaging Patton’s 3rd Army, from behind. The very same advance would also cut off the German 19th Army.

Whether Eisenhower’s order had been influenced in any way by the rumoured troubled personal relationship between him and Devers or whether it was entirely strategically based was a question that occupied Adam’s mind only for a short time. It appeared that Eisenhower treated Devers with far less regard than other generals of Devers’ rank. Nor was Devers overly respectful of Eisenhower, but the matter was not of real interest to Adam.

A related question, however, did keep coming back to him. Had Devers’ 6th Army Group crossed the Rhine in November 1944, might that have stopped the Germans launching their offensive in the Ardennes further north just weeks later and might that have led to the war ending months sooner? And if it had, how many lives might have been saved?

In the event, the Germans did launch their Ardennes counter-offensive some weeks later and the Allied 6th Army Group was ordered to take part in the ensuing Battle of the Bulge. It was to cross the Rhine only in March 1945.

Ultimately, what killed Adam’s Natzweiler-Struthof hypothesis stone dead was his discovery from US Army records that the 761st was attached to the 79th Division of the US 7th Army for only a week or two and this was between late February 1945 and early March 1945. In the time relevant to Devers’ probe across the Rhine in late November 1944, the 761st was attached to the 87th Division of the US 3rd Army and was nowhere near Natzweiler-Struthof or any of its satellite camps. So far as the role of black troops in the liberation of concentration camps was concerned, Adam was back to where he had started.

*

They were to meet for a drink at the Film Center Café on Ninth Avenue in Hell’s Kitchen, not far from where she now lived. The arrangement was made via a series of voice messages on their mobile phones. Adam replayed Diana’s messages many times trying to gauge her state of mind from the tone of her voice and her choice of words.

‘How do you
think
I sound?’ he heard her ask him in the ongoing mental conversation he had with her.

‘I would say you sound … defensive.’

‘How about cautious?

‘Okay then, cautious.’

‘Do you think I have a right to be cautious?’ he heard Diana ask.

‘I think you have a right to be defensive.’

‘Look how magnanimous you’ve become!’

‘Yes, look. Please … look. I’m feeling better about things now, about work, about myself and … Shit, that’s you!’

Adam had arrived early so, although Diana came after him, she wasn’t late. He saw her come inside and walk towards him. They smiled at each other, different smiles, but there wasn’t time to analyse the aetiology of each smile. Her hair was longer. She wore clothes he didn’t recognise. They hugged. She smelled the same as she always had in spite of the unfamiliar clothes. His mouth was dry. She sat opposite him in the booth he’d secured by coming early. He was terrified.

‘You look great,’ Adam said.

‘So do you.’

‘No, not really, I don’t, but it’s nice of you … Well, how are you?’

‘I’m fine, I’m well. How are you?’

‘Well, right now … Right now, frankly, I’m a bit nervous but I’ve been … I think I’m doing okay now. Work is –’

‘You’re nervous?’

‘Sure. It’s weird, don’t you think? This …’

‘Yeah, I guess it is a bit but you don’t have anything to be … I mean … don’t be nervous.’

‘All right then, I won’t be. You’re not …’

‘Nervous? No … I don’t think I’m … I’m not nervous. Why,
should
I be nervous?’

‘No.’

‘I’m pleased to see you,’ she said.

‘Are you?’

‘Of course.’

‘Well, that’s great ‘cause I’m so pleased to see you. I really am.’

‘Have you been seeing much of Michelle and Charles?’

‘A little bit, not much really. Probably see more of Sonia.’

‘Really?’

‘Yeah, she’s taken to dropping in on me.’

‘She’s looking after you. That’s sweet!’

‘Yeah, she doesn’t always tell me she’s coming but, yeah, it is sweet.’

‘She doesn’t tell you she’s coming?’

‘No, not all the time.’

‘So, what, she just drops in unannounced?’

‘Sometimes it’s announced, sometimes it’s sort of … impromptu.’

‘That could be awkward.’

‘Awkward?’

‘Yeah, I mean –’

‘It’s never
awkward.’

‘No?’

‘It’s not always … It’s not always convenient but it’s never awkward.’

‘Okay.’

The waitress came up to them and took their order. Adam ordered a double Scotch and soda. Diana ordered still water and Adam had to work on himself not to construe her order as meaning anything other than that she wanted some water.

‘She misses you. Sonia misses you,’ Adam offered.

‘Really?’

‘Absolutely.’

‘How would you know that?’

‘She’s told me.’

‘Really?’

‘I’ve been a little worried about her … about all three of them actually,’ he confided.

‘Really, why?’

‘I don’t know but I think they may be having … trouble.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I know you’ve seen Michelle. I have too. But have you seen them both?’

‘You mean marital trouble?’

‘He works too hard.’

‘He always did.’

‘Yeah, well, that might be the problem.’

‘What, that he’s too focused on his career for the health of the relationship?’

They looked each other in the eye. There was nothing he could say to that.

‘William misses you too,’ Adam started.

‘Oh really? I miss
him
. Please send him my love. How is he?’

‘Well, for the most part I think he’s well. I mean I think he’s in good health.’

‘But?’

‘Well, he gets upset. Things in the news upset him.’

‘Him and everyone else.’

‘Yeah, but he used to be active, professionally, socially, politically active … you know, working for change. Now he reads the news and it increases his sense of powerlessness and I think –’

‘You’re talking about issues of race?’

‘Yeah, not only but … He’s very sweet. In the course of trying to help me after we … He even suggested a topic for me.’

‘A research topic?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Is it any good?’

‘You know, it sort of is. It’s actually led me on a really fascinating path that I think is going to bear fruit, maybe more fruit than I can …’

‘Eat?’

‘I was going to say handle.’

‘That’s great! Isn’t it?’

‘Yeah, it is. I’m feeling more hopeful about things now. In fact this topic, I’d love to talk to you about it, it’s taking me to Melbourne. Can you believe it? By chance I have to go to –’

‘To live?’

‘No, no, just to interview someone. Not to live.’

Adam’s perception of her concern that he might be moving to Melbourne to live emboldened him. ‘Diana, I made a mistake.’

‘Oh, don’t –’

‘In a long line of mistakes this is the biggest one I’ve ever made.’

‘Adam –’

‘I want you to come back. I want us to be together –’

‘Adam –’

‘I’m feeling better about my work now and –’

‘Adam, you can’t turn people on and off depending on how you’re feeling about your work.’

‘No, I know. That’s not what I mean. I mean that … Everything you said was right. I can see that. Look, it … it might have taken me till now. It might’ve taken me finding something to sink my teeth into for me to realise I could make a go of it professionally, but much more importantly than that, to feel confident that I could …’

‘That you could what?’

‘That I could provide for … take care of … a family. To feel that I would not be a husband to you and a father to our children like … like my father was to my mother and me.’

‘And what if you don’t get tenure?’

‘I’m not going to get tenure, not at Columbia. I don’t care. I mean of course I care but not as far as it affecting our plans to start a family. You were right. We should be together and have children irrespective of what’s happening to us professionally. I see that now.’

He reached across the table and took her hand but after a few seconds she withdrew it. The waitress walked past just as this was happening. It didn’t look like either of these two was going to leave much of a tip, but other people’s turning points were often instructive and always entertaining, especially to the up-and-coming actress this young waitress
thought of herself as. They looked like nice people. How old were they? she wondered.

‘Would you care to order something else?’ she asked just as Diana withdrew her hand.

‘No,’ Diana answered, seemingly for both of them. ‘No, thank you.’ Adam looked up at the waitress. She liked his eyes, mistaking the pain in them for something else. He wanted her to go away and having run out of questions, she went back in the direction of the barman.

‘Adam, you can’t turn people on and off. Do you know what I’ve been through?’

‘I can imagine. I went through it too.’

‘Yeah but you
did
it. It was all your fault.’

‘I agree … completely. Like I said, it was a mistake … a terrible, terrible mistake.’

‘You can’t turn people on and off.’

‘I know. You said that and I agree but I don’t think that’s something I generally do and –’

‘I mean, who the hell do you think you are?’

‘I think I’m someone who did something really, really stupid, but who before that loved you as much if not more than anyone has ever loved you or ever will, someone who made you laugh, someone who tried to take care of you, someone who shared your interests and your concerns, someone you thought you wanted to marry and have a child with.’

‘Who
before
that?’

‘What?’

‘You said, “someone who
before
that loved you” –’

‘I didn’t mean “before that”. I didn’t mean
only
“before that”. I still love you. I talk to you. I’ve continued talking to you, having conversations with you, even though you’re not there.’

Tears welled in her eyes. Such was the sadness, frustration and regret that fuelled them that she was beyond pretending that she wasn’t crying. Adam took her hand and again she let it rest in his for a few seconds before withdrawing it, this time, seemingly, in anger. That’s the way the waitress interpreted the gesture.

‘You’re such an asshole, you know that?’

‘No, I’m an arsehole but not
such
an arsehole. I am
such
an idiot though. Can we settle on that?’

‘I can’t do this.’

‘Can’t do what?’

‘I can’t get back with you.’

‘Diana, you’ve got to trust me. I’m not playing games with your feelings. I mean it. Irrespective of what happens to me professionally, and I think things might be looking up, but … Sweetheart, you were right, I don’t want to wake up without you any more. I’m tired of waking up in the middle of the night and going into the bathroom and –’

‘I’m seeing someone.’

‘What?’

‘I met … someone.’

‘When?’

‘Adam, does it matter?’

‘I don’t … I don’t know. I guess … Yeah, I guess it doesn’t matter.’

He had not imagined this so it wasn’t possible for him to have prepared himself for it although, as the Number One train took him back uptown from Times Square towards Columbia, it occurred to him that, perhaps like a parent’s death, this was not something one could prepare for anyway. Now he really was alone. It wasn’t a dress rehearsal for some possible eventuality. This was permanent. He was going to have to live with the consequences of his fear of being a failed academic and a failed father and husband. Back home he sat on the couch staring into space. It was the couch they had chosen together, had lain on together, the couch they had watched television on as they held on to each other.