Forced Journey

by Rosemary Zibart

  Sam started heading for home. “You’ll figure something out, bud. You gotta go – for you and for her.”

  Indeed, not ten minutes later, Werner was standing on a swaying subway train. He carefully watched as the stations flashed past. If he didn’t get off at the right stop, there was no telling where he’d end up.

  Arriving at Central Park, Werner felt once again like he was entering a different universe. People here were sharply dressed; their hair was shiny; they smelled better, too.

  A snazzy blonde passed him on the sidewalk with a scent as sweet as flowers. She wore a green hat with a bouncy white feather. Werner trailed behind the lady, hypnotized by the feather. When she disappeared in the crowd, he settled down on a bench to watch. Old folks with quiet smiles shuffled along. Kids darted here and there. Young mothers pushed baby carriages with one hand, gripping toddlers with the other.

  How lucky these folks were, he thought. They dwelled in a sparkly paradise. Could any of them imagine how their good fortunes might be snatched away overnight? Like it had for his family and for Anika’s and for a million other families in Europe?

  Werner stood up and started to join the crowd when – kaboom – a plump little boy slammed into him and fell flat.

  “Harry, Harry!” His mother rushed over. Frowning, she sized up Werner. “What are you doing here? You look like a bum.” The woman grabbed Harry’s hand and yanked the boy away. “Now, darling, I told you to stay clear of people like that.”

  In that instant Werner was snapped out of paradise. The radiant lens he’d been using to view people in this part of the city blurred. To them, he was a kid in hand-me-down clothes and a lousy haircut. He wished Sam was with him – his pal would have something choice to say to those snobs.

  But what about Anika? She might turn up her nose, too, when she saw him. Passing a public restroom, he ducked inside to inspect himself. In the mirror over a sink, he saw how he’d changed in nine months. His face was fuller and had a much warmer color. His eyes looked bright and keen. His hair, however, was in bad shape without Esther to clip it every week. So he splashed cold water on the shaggy mess, parted it on one side, then flattened it down.

  He figured he looked as good as he possibly could. Still, he was worried. Would Anika truly be happy to see him? He recalled the moment on the ship when she’d walked away. What if he showed up at the door and she pretended not to know him? How embarrassing that would be!

  Werner stalled for a few minutes, unsure what to do. Finally his feet made the decision; his steps turned him in the direction of Anika’s building. He needed to know why she looked so unhappy. Was it just those conceited twins? Or had she heard from her father? Was there any news? Werner needed to speak to her, even for one minute.

  Since the day was sunny and clear, he figured the doorman might not be on duty. He’d be able to walk inside, easy as pie.

  But Rudolf was standing out front, big and important, like he owned the street. He was yelling for taxis and helping people in and out of shiny black limousines. He looked as puffed up as a Royal Guard for the Queen of England. Werner watched the doorman carefully. Rudolf’s eyes roamed the sidewalk, scanning everyone who passed. It would not be easy to get past him.

  After studying the situation for several minutes, however, Werner saw his chance. At the edge of the park, a balloon man was selling big red and blue balloons. A line of kids stood waiting for balloons. One was a little girl with long yellow braids. She had come from Rudolf’s apartment building with her pretty mother. After purchasing a blue balloon, the two headed back. The doorman was clearly eyeing them, especially the mother, with interest.

  Choosing the right moment, Werner strolled past the child. Then he reached over and plucked the string from her hand. Let loose, the blue balloon sailed off. Stunned, the little girl started bawling. Everyone on the street turned to see, but none moved faster than Rudolf. He took off after the balloon, stretching his long arm up and reaching for the string. The doorman had nearly grabbed the balloon when it soared skyward.

  With Rudolf temporarily out of the way, Werner scrambled for the door. Before rushing in, however, he glanced back. Not wanting to return empty-handed to the unhappy child, Rudolf was standing in line to purchase another balloon.

  Without wasting a second, Werner raced through the wide lobby. He nearly collided with a family of four in front of the elevator. Then he tried to blend in as they all waited patiently. When the door opened, the elevator operator eyed him suspiciously but said nothing. Asked his destination, Werner blurted out, “Furstburners, please.” The elevator doors slid closed and the operator pressed the button marked 15th floor.

  No one in the tight little space realized that Werner had never before been in an elevator. He gulped. What a funny sensation, almost like riding up on the Cyclone. As the door at the 15th floor slid open, the operator peered at Werner. “Here you go, Furstburner residence.”

  Werner walked out, hoping he looked more confident than he felt. Fortunately, there was one big grand door on this floor with carved dark wood and a big brass knocker in the shape of a lion. Beneath the lion was a gleaming plate that read: NATHAN AND DOROTHY FURSTBURNER.

  Werner stared at the door. He had no idea what to do next. He could knock, of course. But what if the person who opened the door took one look at him and slammed it in his face? Then he’d never see Anika. He had to come up with a different plan.

  Glancing around, Werner spied a small side door with the sign: “Ring for package delivery” and a little red button. Hurray! He could pretend to be a grocery boy. That was easy because he was a grocery boy. He just didn’t have any groceries with him. Still, it was the only plan he could think of. So he pressed hard on the buzzer. A moment passed. Werner was ready to press again when a mousy little maid in a black uniform with a white apron opened the door. She stared at Werner.

  “Who are you?” Her eyes were big and timid. “We weren’t expecting an order.”

  “I, uh, have a present for Anika from her father.” Werner kept his hands behind his back as if he was holding something. “Is she here?”

  The girl looked curious. “I can take it.”

  “N-no,” Werner stammered. “Special instructions to give only to her.” The maid stared at him another instant, then turned back into the apartment.

  A long minute passed. Werner forced himself to breathe in and out. He feared that the maid had gone to fetch the Furstburners. They would know he was lying; they were probably already calling the police. He started to turn from the door, ready to dash away.

  “Werner?”

  Hearing her sweet thin voice, he swung back around. Anika stood very still in a lacy white blouse and dark blue skirt. Next to her, the maid was nudging her with an elbow. “I told you somebody was here. You never believe me!”

  The maid shrugged, then turned and left. That’s why she didn’t see what happened next.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Anika jumped into his arms. “Werner, mein Werner, thank goodness you’ve come!” She gave him a tight squeeze, then she pulled away, a radiant smile on her face.

  His face was firetruck red and flaming hot, but only Anika could see, and she clearly didn’t care.

  “I am so happy you’ve come.” Her eyes sparkled with tears. “I didn’t think I’d ever see you again.”

  Werner’s eyes fogged as well. His heart was thumping wildly.

  “Why wouldn’t I visit?” he mumbled. “Once I knew where you lived.” He gazed at her closely. “I was worried.”

  “Worried?” Anika glanced at the big front door. A shadow crossed her face.

  “Yeah, I could see you were unhappy,” said Werner. “What’s wrong?”

  She hesitated, her lip trembling, then the words poured out. “It’s the Furstburners, the family I live with. They’re mean and selfish and never wanted me in the first place.”

>   “So why did they host you?”

  She shrugged. “They’re rich and proud. The rabbi at their synagogue begged people to take in ‘the poor little children of Europe’.” Anika tossed her head proudly. How she hated to be pitied.

  “Now they show me off to friends like a pet poodle with a gilt collar. Everyone oohs and ahs about how sad everything is in Germany. But they have no idea, do they?”

  “What about the kids? The twins?” asked Werner, recalling the orange-haired duo.

  “Norman and Nathalie? They’re worse than their parents. They make fun of me. They say I’m old-fashioned.” Anika mimicked Nathalie’s voice: “No one wears velvet any more, not in America. We wear velveteen.”

  Anika took out a dainty lace hankie and wiped her eyes. “They make me play the piano, then say I’m stupid because I don’t know American music.”

  She sniffed. “But I love Beethoven and Schumann. It’s all I know how to play.”

  Her dark eyes widened. “Take me to your family. I’ll live with them. I’m sure they’re very nice. They won’t mind. I promise I’ll be sweet and helpful.” She grabbed his hand. “Please, Werner, please, I hate it here!”

  Werner gulped – how could he tell Anika that he didn’t have a family? Not now. He barely had a place to live. And might not have that soon.

  Anyway, he never had a chance to explain, because at that moment, a pudgy, carrot-haired boy appeared in the doorway. He stared hard at Werner, then said, “Who the hell are you? We don’t allow trash like you in this building!”

  “Don’t speak like that, Norman,” said Anika. She squeezed Werner’s hand. “He’s my friend.”

  Nathalie appeared next to her brother. “What’s going on?”

  “Look at Anika’s friend,” Norman sneered. “He must come from the old country.”

  Nathalie gazed at Werner scornfully. “He sure has old clothes and crummy shoes.” She snickered, then turned to her brother. “The way that girl brags about her life in Europe.” She mocked Anika’s foreign accent. “The silver, the servants, the fancy dresses.” Then she turned her gaze to Anika. “Probably all lies!”

  Werner could see Anika shrinking from their words. What did they know about her, about how much she’d lost? “Don’t talk to her like that!” he snapped.

  “Hey, you creep,” Norman shouted back. “Better scram now before I call the cops!”

  For an instant, Werner froze, unable to think, much less speak. He knew that in another second, Norman would pull Anika inside and slam the door. He would be outside; she’d be inside. Locked in that home that was not a home…that was anything but a home!

  He tugged on her hand. “Come with me!”

  “What are you saying? Where are you going?” Norman’s face grew furious. He grabbed at Anika’s blouse, tearing the thin fabric. “She’s not going anywhere! Certainly not with you!”

  But in that same instant, Anika pulled away from Norman. Both she and Werner dashed toward a door marked STAIRS, next to the elevator. Neither glanced back to see if anyone had followed. The two fairly leaped down fifteen flights, several steps at a time, hand-in-hand. No one seemed to be pursuing. Werner guessed that the Furstburners would take the elevator. He wondered if they’d reach the lobby before them.

  A moment later, when they rushed into the lobby, Werner glanced over. A stout, white-haired lady with three big black French poodles was trying to squeeze onto the elevator. Good. Until the elevator was free to go up, the Furstburner twins couldn’t come down.

  Rudolf and the elevator man were busy trying to help the lady with the poodles. They looked up as the two raced across the marble floor. The doorman started to follow but tripped on a dog leash. Werner and Anika shot out the door and headed toward Central Park.

  Rudolf followed, waving his arms. “Stop, stop, you crooks!”

  But the two ran on and on. They nearly collided with roller skaters, baby carriages and kite flyers, but kept going, as fast as possible. Finally, white-faced and panting, Anika crumpled to the ground. “Werner, please, no further.”

  On the shiny green grass, she looked like a doll thrown by a careless child. Werner was bent over, too, gulping for air. The thumping of his heart finally slowed, however, giving him a chance to think. What now? Where would they go? What would they do? Any minute now, the Furstburners would reach the park in search of them. There might be policemen as well.

  Anika imagined that Werner had a home, a safe place where she could live, too. How could he tell her the truth? Could he take her down to his tiny apartment on Second Avenue? What would Anika think about that? Werner could imagine the look on her face as she trudged up the dark, smelly stairs in his building.

  She was accustomed to fine clothes and music, china and silver. She’d hate everything about Second Avenue.

  Still, they had to do something quick. Before the Furstburners appeared with the police. Werner looked around at the trees, bushes and boulders. Why, the park was huge – there had to be a million places to hide. Anika and he might last here for days, even weeks, enough time for him to come up with a new plan.

  He looked at Anika and caught her studying him.

  “You look different, Werner,” she said slowly. “You’re taller and stronger.”

  “I guess so,” he muttered.

  “You look like…” She smiled mischievously. “Huckleberry Finn.”

  Who was that? What a peculiar name! Werner’s hands flew up to flatten down his thick, sandy hair. Probably some bum!

  “He’s an American boy. And that’s why you look like him now. You’re American too.” Her voice was slightly wistful, like his being American was both good and a little sad. It meant the two had left their homeland for good.

  Her strong gaze made him feel shy. “Anika, you sure you don’t wanna go back? I bet the Furstburners won’t blame you, they’ll blame me.”

  She jumped up like a startled fawn. “No, I don’t want to go back! Please, don’t make me go back!”

  For a moment the two gazed straight at one another like the first time they had met on the ship. When she had cracked open the door and invited him in.

  Werner stood up straight and offered Anika his hand. Then they headed deeper into the park, far from their pursuers.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  At first, the park was great fun. They nearly forgot anyone might be searching for them. They discovered a playground with swings, a seesaw and a slide; they played together like little kids. Like the little kids they’d rarely had a chance to be in the past. Anika giggled as she sat on the swing and demanded, “Push me higher, Werner, higher!”

  A moment later, jumping off the swing, she yelled, “Catch me if you can!”

  She started running, and the two chased one another around the trees and bushes. Remembering the joy of rolling down the hill with Sam, Werner shouted, “Look at this!”

  He lay down and rolled down the hill, jumping up at the bottom with a grin. Bits of grass stuck to his clothes. “Now you try, Anika. It’s fun!”

  She stared a moment, then shook her head. “Nein, noch nicht.”

  No, not yet. Anika was still a well-behaved German girl who couldn’t act wild and free. Certainly not in public. Werner knew how she felt because he had felt like that once, but no longer. He flicked pieces of grass off his shirt, surprised at how much he’d changed.

  Every once in a while he glanced around but didn’t see anyone with frizzy orange hair. Nor did he spy Rudolf or the police.

  The sun began to set and people started leaving the park. A family packed up their picnic basket and gathered toys and skates. An old couple stood up carefully from the bench where they’d sat feeding pigeons and moved slowly down the path. Soon only young men and women were strolling around, holding hands, teasing and tickling one another, hugging and kissing. Werner didn’t worry that any of these young
couples would notice them. He’d often heard that lovers only have eyes for one another.

  As the sky darkened, he and Anika quit playing. They wandered from place to place in the park, following one path and then another. They were cautious, ducking out of the way when they glimpsed anyone. As the light faded and shadows grew, even the kissing couples began to disappear. He figured they might be going for a meal or dancing or to the movies. Unlike he and Anika, they had places to go.

  After a while, the only people still in the park were police on horseback. One police officer, riding on a big grey horse, stopped when he saw them. “Hey, you kids, whatcha doing up so late? Don’t your parents expect you home?”

  “Yes, officer,” Werner said respectfully, turning to Anika. “Gosh, Anna, it is getting late. Mother and Father will be worried. Let’s go home straightaway.”

  “Of course, Willy, let’s go,” Anika replied quickly. She put her hand in his and began humming a little tune as the two walked away. As soon as they had rounded a bend, however, she asked, “Do you think he’ll tell? I don’t want them to find us.”

  Werner shrugged.

  Her lower lip stuck out a bit. “I wish we’d brought something to eat.”

  Werner looked around. The hotdog and popcorn vendors had all left the park, even if they’d had money to buy something. Poor Anika. It was okay for him – he was used to pangs of hunger – but she’d probably never felt an empty stomach.

  They trudged further. The park seemed to grow bigger as they walked. But it no longer seemed like a magic carpet unfurling at their feet; it was empty and boring. Werner again considered heading back to his old neighborhood. A can of tomato soup would taste mighty good at that moment. Plus Second Avenue wouldn’t look so ugly under streetlights.

  “Hey, Anika, I was thinking…”