Children of the Stars

by Mario Escobar

  “You’ll miss them,” Perrot said.

  The boys looked out the windows in silence. Le Chambon-sur-Lignon had been more than a place of refuge for them, more than a secret valley, more than a village full of brave, generous people. The town embodied the reality that people could always find a way out, and the impact of one good deed was infinitely more powerful than that of evil.

  They drove in silence the whole way to Valence, watching the landscape slowly morph into wide plains and cropland. The car came to a stop near Vipond’s house, and they all got out, without taking the suitcases.

  “I didn’t know we’d come back here,” Jacob said, puzzled.

  “Mr. Vipond wants to speak with you,” was Perrot’s only reply.

  They went up to the top floor. The stairway was dark and quiet, but when they got to the landing before the attic apartment, a light shone directly on the door. They knocked, and Vipond answered right away, as if he had been waiting at the door.

  “My dear boys, how big you’ve gotten! Moses is practically a young man now!” Vipond managed a smile, but the boys could see he was much older and weaker than when they had left him.

  “We’re so happy to see you, Mr. Vipond,” Jacob said, giving the man a hug.

  “Come in, come in. I’m sure you’re hungry. At your age I could never stay full, though, truth be told, I still eat too much, but that hardly matters anymore.”

  The house smelled closed up, as if the outside air dared not flow through territory so closely guarded by death. Jacob and Moses sat on the sofa, and the old man brought out two passports.

  “So, we’ve got you forged passports, authorization from your parents to travel, and a letter of safe passage. Of course, your father’s family lives in Spain, which is why you’ve got a Spanish last name, Alejo. You can get into Spain and go to Barcelona. These are the tickets for a passenger ship headed for Buenos Aires with the Spanish Line. The ship sails in five days. We think that’s enough time, but it’s also not a good idea to stay in Spain too long. Franco’s police would get suspicious.”

  Jacob was overwhelmed. “Thank you so much,” he said, taking the papers.

  “Mr. Perrot and I think it best that I take you. I hope I don’t slow you down, but we can’t rest knowing you’re traveling alone. It will be very challenging to make it to the Spanish border, but crossing the country and then an ocean is another matter altogether, so we think one of us should go with you. Mr. Perrot has his obligations with the theater. But I, I’ve nothing keeping me here on earth anymore. I’d rather die somewhere else, not here where the walls only remind me how old and weak I am. Besides, it would do me good to see your parents again.”

  The boys were flabbergasted. They had never dreamed of something so kind. They were overjoyed not to have to travel alone. The world was too dangerous for two children on their own, especially amid the times they were living. And they knew nothing of Spain, not to speak of the awful possibility of never actually finding their parents in Buenos Aires.

  “When do we leave?” Jacob asked.

  “Tonight. The raids are almost constant now. At first, we had thought to get you out through Marseille, but the Nazis have destroyed the place, rounded up all the refugees and dissidents, kicked out the consulates, and closed the port. The only chance is to go through Spain. Some boats sail straight to Buenos Aires, though they make stops in Brazil and Uruguay.”

  “How long will it take?” Moses asked. “I’m scared of being on a boat for a long time.”

  “Four or five weeks. If everything goes well, you might see your parents by the end of September,” Vipond answered.

  It was a lot to take in. The boys had waited so long that it was hard to believe they might actually see their parents in just over a month.

  Jacob and Moses helped Perrot bring some food from the kitchen, and together they had lunch. As they ate, the men asked them about their time in Le Chambon-sur-Lignon. Jacob and Moses explained how it was when they first got there, the visit of the minister Lamirand, the gendarme raids the summer before, Christmas in the village, the arrest of Pastor Trocmé in February, and the arrest of the students and Daniel Trocmé a few weeks prior.

  “We heard about what happened to Pastor Trocmé and his cousin,” Perrot said. “People are more and more outraged as time goes by. If they didn’t have to pay dearly for it, I think the whole world would be out in the streets hunting down Nazis, but it’s just a matter of time. The Germans have lost in Stalingrad and Tunisia. The fascists in Italy overthrew their own Mussolini and have asked for an armistice. The Allies recently landed in Sicily, though we were all hoping they would come to Marseille.”

  Vipond nodded. “And now there’s talk of another Allied landing on the Atlantic. With any luck, France will be free again before the end of the year.” He hoped he would live to see it. The journey to Argentina was, in a way, his own personal bon voyage.

  Great actors know when to get off stage. Accordingly, Vipond had spent the past few weeks closing his hostel, selling off his property, and securing his money in a trust as an inheritance for Jacob and Moses when they grew up. He had never had children of his own. With his strength leaving him for good, he was more aware than ever of how selfish he had been: always living for the applause of an adoring public, allowing himself to be loved and adored, and incapable of returning that love to others. Yet now he felt deep tenderness toward Jana’s children.

  “I’d better lie down for a while. I’ve got to drive all night, and at my age, that’s an epic feat,” the old man said.

  When he had gone to the bedroom, Perrot stood and took his hat. “I hope you have a good journey and that you find your parents very soon. They were so kind while they were here in Valence. It’s not easy finding people like that. We live in a world in which men have become wolves for other men.”

  “We’ll greet them for you. Thank you so much for your help. You’ve risked your life for us,” Jacob said, also getting to his feet.

  “Life’s not worth living if you don’t give it to others. We can’t take anything with us. I hope we’ve at least been able to teach you something worthwhile in the time you’ve spent with us.”

  Perrot held out his hand and shook with Jacob. The boy felt like a grown-up for the first time, as if he were bidding farewell to an equal. Moses stretched up and held out his smaller hand too.

  “You boys have helped me remember so many things, in particular why I love life,” the man said somewhat dramatically. Jacob wondered if he were quoting a line from one of the many plays at his theater.

  “Goodbye, Mr. Perrot,” Jacob said.

  “Yes, well, it’s time to lower the curtain.” And with a nod, he made for the door and closed it quietly behind him. The house was cloaked in silence.

  Jacob and Moses made themselves comfortable on the couch. They tried to sleep, but they were jittery and excited and could hardly be still.

  “In a month,” Moses said, repeating the words of their benefactors. “We’ll see them in just over a month.”

  “We’ve already got tickets for South America and papers to get out of France,” Jacob said as if to confirm reality. He was flipping through the passports and other documents. “Plus, Mr. Vipond is coming with us. I’d so much rather he come than have to make this trip on our own.”

  Moses nodded thoughtfully, as if holding his tongue.

  “What is it?” Jacob asked him.

  “Nothing. I just wonder if he’ll be able to survive a trip like this.”

  Jacob stood up and looked through Vipond’s bookshelves until he found a map of France, then he stretched it out over the coffee table. Next, he stood on a chair and brought down the globe. He put it by the map and studied them.

  “Look. This is about where we are. The border with Spain is really far, at least two days away. I don’t know where we’ll stop at night. Maybe here near Montpellier.” He pointed. “Then we’ll cross the border probably here at La Junquera, and then go straight to Barcelona.
We’ll have to stop for the night again somewhere near the border and in the city.”

  Moses stared at the map, his jaw slack, and then got excited when Jacob reached for the globe.

  “This is Spain. The boat will go along the coast to the Strait of Gibraltar, then out to the open sea. From there we’ll head for Brazil, then Montevideo, in Uruguay, to our final destination, Buenos Aires,” he explained.

  Moses’s face was inches from the globe as he studied every detail and imagined himself crossing the wide ocean. “We’ll be like pirates,” he concluded with a smile.

  “Exactly, like pirates!” Jacob giggled.

  Jacob, still a bit hungry, went back to the kitchen while Moses kept imagining the impending adventure. Before they realized it, it was the dead of night. They waited in the dark for Vipond to wake up, but there was no sign of him. At first they were just impatient, but then they grew worried, wondering if something had happened to him.

  “Should we wake him?” Moses asked Jacob.

  “Let’s let him rest a little longer.”

  Not two minutes had passed before they heard a noise and approaching footsteps. Vipond emerged dressed and ready.

  “Let’s go, boys. We’ll be on the road until dawn. I don’t want my neighbors to see me go. One of them might inform the Germans.”

  They went out to the landing and walked down the stairs as carefully as possible. The heat was palpable even at that late hour. Vipond went out first, made sure no one was around, and motioned for them to follow. Then they got in the same vehicle that had brought them from Le Chambon-sur-Lignon.

  Vipond turned the key, and the typical motor noise sounded particularly deafening in the late-night silence.

  “There’s a curfew, so we’ve got to get out of the city as quickly as we can. We’ll go by back roads. It’ll take longer, but they’re safer. We won’t see many Germans, and hopefully the gendarmes will let us through without much hassle.”

  The car wound its way through mountain roads, avoiding the highways and busier streets of the plains. Vipond was an excellent driver, just very slow. The headlights were uncomfortably dim, and the roads were in deplorable shape. Some curves were so sharp Vipond brought the car to a near stop in order to make them. They hugged the edges of cliffs and traversed dozens of miles without passing a single car or even going through a town.

  Jacob tried to keep up conversation. He was afraid their chauffeur might fall asleep at the wheel otherwise. He could hear Moses’s snores behind him.

  “I went to Spain once, a long time ago,” Vipond was saying.

  “You did? For a play?”

  “You’re not going to believe it, but it was for the only woman I ever loved. What happened ended up being so terrible, you couldn’t even imagine. It’s perhaps why I gave up on love and never remarried.”

  This took Jacob by surprise. “You were married?” he asked. He had always presumed the man was a hardened old bachelor.

  “It was a long time ago, after great success on the stage in Paris. One of the dancers in our company was a young Cuban woman named Mercedes. She was mixed race. Beautiful. The most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, truly. She had enormous dark eyes, copper-colored skin, curly black hair, and a figure to give a man a heart attack . . .” Vipond remembered suddenly that he was talking with a boy, though Jacob was thirteen now.

  “Mixed race?” Jacob asked.

  “Yes, her mother was black and her father was white. He was from Catalonia and had gone to Cuba to make his fortune. He married a Cuban woman and they had five children. Mercedes had been born an artist. She was a stunning dancer and actress, though there weren’t many roles in Paris for an actress who was half black. She did a bit with movies and then landed in the theater where I had been acting for two years. It was love at first sight for me—a direct shot from Cupid. I couldn’t resist her!”

  Jacob did not necessarily understand all the vocabulary the old man used, but he liked hearing stories. It made him feel like he was living them too.

  “She put me off at first. I imagine she thought I was rather green. She was two or three years older, had lived in different countries, knew people all over the world. For her, Paris was just one stop in her life, while I planned on staying there forever, especially if I kept making it big in the theater. One night, after the last show, I worked up my courage and asked her to dinner. I’ll swear to you: Nights in Paris are magical. We went to a lovely restaurant in the Latin Quarter, then walked along the Seine and ended up at the Avenue des Champs-Élysées. The night was beautiful—clear, with a huge moon that must have driven us a bit mad. At the end, I kissed her. She was not the first woman I had ever kissed, but she was the first I had ever truly loved. I’d always been rather narcissistic; it’s hard not to be when you want to be an artist and leave everything else behind. But in that moment, she was the only thing that mattered to me.”

  This was something Jacob could understand all too well. He had also known what it felt like to love. Every day that went by, he missed Anna even more, though he had decided to follow Magda’s advice and be happy. He knew that is what Anna would have wanted.

  The car emerged from the more mountainous roads as they reached the area of Nîmes, with wide meadows and small forests dotting the way. It was still night, but the horizon was starting to lighten.

  Vipond yawned before continuing his tale. He thought that this was precisely what it meant to be old: to have a long past and no future. As he relayed his life to Jacob, he felt that, in some way, it had all been worth it, though it had gone so fast, and death had become a constant companion for the journey. Nearly all of his friends were dead, as were his parents and most of his relatives. He was the last witness of a world that was going extinct, never to be seen again.

  “What happened next?” the boy asked, impatient. Jacob, on the other hand, barely had any past. Uprooted from his home country and from his Jewish roots, he needed to feel that the ground beneath his feet meant something. Should he disappear tomorrow, he wanted to know that somebody would remember him.

  “Patience, my boy. We’ve got a long road ahead of us and I don’t know that your mother would want me to tell you this story. She knows it, of course. Old men repeat themselves constantly.”

  “Please, Mr. Vipond, go on,” Jacob begged.

  “I don’t suppose Jana would get too mad at me. It’s just life, the wonderful and terrible existence we all share.”

  Jacob was quiet. He wanted the old man to keep telling his love story about Mercedes, the exotic and beautiful Cuban dancer. In a way, that was how Jacob envisioned South America: a world so different from his own, full of new colors, smells, and tastes.

  “A while after that first kiss, we got engaged. She was very reluctant to get married. She had always been free. She’d had any number of lovers and somehow felt I had tamed her, but she did love me in her own way. Two months after we got engaged, she disappeared one day. She didn’t come to the theater, and when I went to her apartment, they told me she’d gone to Madrid. I thought I would lose my mind. How could she have abandoned me like that? I took the train to Hendaye that very day, traveling all night. Then I took another train to Madrid. I had no idea where to look for her, and I didn’t speak the language, but I finally found her. She was working at the Teatro Español, a beautiful spot in the heart of the city. One night, I showed up at her show and watched her act. She was playing Desdemona, Othello’s lover—a role that suited her perfectly.”

  “What happened?” Jacob asked again. The sky was almost fully light. The night had frittered away as they talked.

  “I waited for her at the door. She didn’t seem surprised to see me. The actors were going out to eat, and she told me to come with them. The whole night she flirted with the main actor, and I was eaten up with jealousy. You haven’t experienced it yet, but it’s like fire burning you up inside. I decided to go back to Paris, but she was toying with me. She showed just enough interest, gave me just enough affection, for
me not to leave her. Finally, one night during a terrible rainstorm, after her show, I made up my mind for sure to leave. She ran through the streets of Madrid, coming after me. We got married the next day at the French embassy, but she made me promise not to consummate the marriage until we were back in her country. It was insane. We sailed to Cuba for me to meet her family. We arrived in Havana about a month later. I was as happy as a clam. The journey on the boat had truly been a pleasure cruise.

  “So we got to Cuba, and she introduced me to her family. They all received me warmly and called me el francés. I thought about staying there to live. It was beautiful and peaceful, far from the ruckus of Paris. That night we had a reservation at the nicest hotel on the island, for just the two of us. We enjoyed a candlelight dinner, and when it came time to go to bed, I was nearly beside myself. We got to our room, and just as we were finally naked together, she began to laugh. I didn’t understand what was going on. Then she told me she didn’t like men, that she hated men, that she didn’t love me, that she would never sleep with me.”

  Jacob was shocked and confused. Why would any woman do that to Vipond?

  “I returned to Paris completely destroyed. At least my profession helped me keep going. I never fell in love again and only had passing relationships. Mercedes made me distrustful of women, until I met your mother, actually. She is such a beautiful soul . . . She was like a daughter to me.”

  They were approaching the region of Montpellier. Vipond stopped the car behind a tree-covered area. “I think we can rest safely here. We’ll start up again in three or four hours. Some friends will help us in Carcassonne. We’ll spend the night with them and cross the border the next day, leaving France forever,” he said. His words sounded sad. He mused on how aging implied doing many things for the last time. Under the unstoppable clock, life slipped away so quickly that one day you woke up and found there would be no tomorrow.

  Jacob looked toward the back seat. Moses was sleeping peacefully. Then he stretched out and fell into a dream of Anna. She was at the port in Barcelona, on the ship’s deck, her blond hair flying free. She was smiling at him, but each time he tried to get close to her, she evaporated like a passing mist, like ashes blown in the wind.