by Maria Kiely
Ruzena’s still fast asleep next to me, but Mama is sitting up in her bed looking through some papers. I slip out of bed and climb in next to Mama. She puts her papers aside. “Did you have a good sleep?” she asks.
“Yes, very good,” I reply.
“Did you have a good dream?” she asks. It is a question that both Mama and Babicka used to ask me every morning at home. I close my eyes, trying to bring forth the images of the happy dream.
“I was in Roven—picking strawberries with Maruska. When the basket was full, we gave some to Babicka and Pavel and Teta J. Then Maruska and I went to the gazebo and sat down to eat some berries. They smelled so good, but I woke up right before I could take a bite. Oh, Mama, I miss Maruska and Babicka and everyone in Roven so much.”
Mama kisses the top of my head and says, “Hodná holčička. You are such a brave girl. I dreamed I was riding horses in Roven with my sisters. It is so bittersweet to dream of home.” Mama sighs.
Bittersweet sounds like a taste, not a feeling. I roll the word around in my mind, wondering what it means exactly. At that moment, Ruzena sits up in bed with a start. She looks around for a moment before she realizes where she is.
“I was dreaming that I was playing the piano at a concert in Prague. I was fantastic. All the clapping and cheering woke me up,” she says, and then she laughs self-consciously.
We all look at each other for a moment. Savoring our dreams of home, wishing we didn’t have to let them go.
Chapter 35
DASHED HOPES
WHEN WE ENTER the cafeteria, someone is playing folk songs on the piano.
“Come on, let’s find the boys,” Ruzena says to me. She turns and hurries off, but I stay and listen to the music with Mama for a moment. The presence of music has changed the atmosphere in the room. People sing along or tap their feet and seem much friendlier. I think the music reminds people of home—and gives them hope for the future.
I look around expecting to see Ruzena already sitting with Honza and his friends at what I now think of as their table. To my surprise, Honza and the other boys are not there, and Ruzena is speaking urgently to a man who is sitting at the table with a woman and two small children. The man is shaking his head at my sister as though he is sorry that he can’t help her. Ruzena then turns away from him, and I see her eyes searching every table for Honza.
Mama spots Mr. and Mrs. D, and she leads me across the room toward them, but we are intercepted by one of the American refugee workers. He politely informs Mama that the commanding officer has asked to see her in his office as soon as possible. Mama says she will come right away, and then she tells me to run and get Ruzena. I move as quickly as possible through the crowded room. When I reach Ruzena, I am slightly out of breath.
“Come quickly! The commanding officer wants to see us right away,” I tell her, pulling at her arm.
“I can’t find Honza,” she says in a daze.
“You can look for him later,” I tell her. “Maybe Papa is already here!”
This brings Ruzena back into focus. “Papa!” She takes my hand and we hurry back to Mama.
We’re all so excited at the thought of seeing Papa that we practically fly up the stairs to the office. Mama knocks, and when the commanding officer opens the door, we walk in trying to be calm, but we’re shaking with anticipation. However, the room is empty except for the officer. He invites us to sit, and we stare at him expectantly.
“Madam, I’m sorry to inform you that your telegram was reported as undelivered, which means your contact in Switzerland did not receive it. Communication is still so difficult these days.”
Mama continues to talk with the officer, but I don’t hear what they’re saying. There is a rushing sound in my ears. The room seems to spin. Papa is not here. He is not coming. He still doesn’t know where we are. There’s no way for us to contact him.
Then I think of our predicament. We have nowhere to go. We are stuck here just like those men with the bucket begging for extra food.
I feel like I can’t breathe. I reach for the pebble in my pocket, but it’s gone. I know it must have just fallen out at the hotel or something, but it feels like a sign—a bad sign.
Somehow, the meeting with the officer ends, and Ruzena and I follow Mama back downstairs and into the cafeteria. People call out to Ruzena, asking her if she’ll play again. She doesn’t even look at them. How could it have only been yesterday that she created such a spirit of hope in this room with her music?
“What happened? Is your husband on his way?” asks Mr. D when we reach their table.
Mama shakes her head and repeats what the officer said. Then she says, “We have no money left and nowhere to go, but that’s not the part that worries me the most. I’m afraid if he doesn’t hear from us, he’ll think we didn’t make it out and he’ll try to go back to Czechoslovakia to find us. If he goes back, I’m sure he’ll be caught and then . . .” She trails off, looking at me and Ruzena.
“No, no, I’m sure he knows better than to go back. You mustn’t worry. We’ll help you figure something out, and in the meantime, you may stay with us,” Mrs. D says kindly. “We’ve been given a teacher’s office to sleep in, and I’m sure we can make room for you.”
I remember that Mama told me that Mr. D is a very important figure and the American officer gave him and his wife a room to stay in while they awaited information about their next move. It is very generous of them to offer to share their space.
We follow Mrs. D up a flight of stairs and down two hallways. When we reach the room, she opens the door. “It’s not very big, but I hope you can make yourselves comfortable,” she says, holding the door wide for us to enter. The room has two cots squeezed side by side, two wooden chairs, and barely enough floor space for all four of us to stand together. I know we are lucky that they are generous enough to share their space with us, but I cannot imagine how all of us are going to stay in this tiny room.
“You can put your bags under there,” Mrs. D says, indicating the space under one of the cots. “I will go ask if there are any more blankets and pillows, and then we can make you girls a cozy little place to sleep on the floor.” She smiles warmly at us and pats my back. I force myself to smile back and thank her as she leaves the room. She is a very kind woman, but it does not take away the awful, empty feeling I have inside.
I want to ask Mama what we’re going to do, but I don’t want to hear that she doesn’t know, so I sit quietly on the edge of one of the cots. Ruzena sits next to me. She hasn’t said a word since we left the office. Mama removes a small sewing kit from her bag, sits on one of the chairs, takes off one of her stockings, and begins to repair a tear in the leg. I watch her for a minute and then turn to stare blankly out the small window.
I let my mind wander to the last time I saw Papa.
* * *
“Anna, come give me a hug,” Papa calls. Gar and I run across the lawn, and I jump into his open arms. He scoops me up and holds me tight. “Oh my goodness! You’re getting so big, I can hardly lift you anymore!” Gar runs in circles around us, and Papa bends over without putting me down and scratches Gar behind the ears. “I have to go now,” Papa tells me. “Are you going to be a good girl for Mama and Babicka?”
“Yes, of course!” I say.
“Good. You’re such a big help to them, Anna.”
“But when will you be back, Papa?” I ask.
Papa looks at me for a moment and then says, “I’ll see you soon. I promise.” He puts me down and kisses the top of my head. “Hodná holčička,” he whispers, and then he is gone.
* * *
I am startled when Ruzena jumps up from the bed. I quickly rub the back of my hand across my eyes so no one can see my tears. We are all afraid. We all feel lost. We all want to go home. But now is not the time for my tears.
Chapter 36
NO TIME FOR GOODBYES
&n
bsp; “MAMA, MAY I go look for Honza?” Ruzena asks, standing by the door.
Before Mama has a chance to answer, Mrs. D enters carrying two flat pillows and some gray wool blankets. “Honza?” she says. “The young man you traveled with that we met yesterday?”
“Yes,” says Ruzena.
“He’s not here. I’m afraid he left last night.”
Ruzena stares at Mrs. D as if she does not understand what she’s just said. “No, no, that’s not possible. You must be mistaken. Honza would never leave without telling me.”
Mrs. D smiles sympathetically. “Oh, my dear, I’m sorry, but I’m pretty sure it was him who left. I heard that he got word from his uncle and that he had to leave at once,” she says.
Ruzena shakes her head. “But he wouldn’t leave without saying goodbye. No.”
“I’m sorry that we didn’t get to say goodbye to him, but it is very lucky that he heard from his uncle so soon,” Mama says gently. “We should be happy for him.” Ruzena sinks back down onto the cot and continues shaking her head.
“What about his friends?” I ask.
“I’m afraid I don’t know,” Mrs. D replies. “I haven’t seen any of the other boys today.”
Ruzena sits frozen on the bed. It’s like she’s afraid to feel anything right now. I know how she feels. I believed that we’d made it. I believed that Papa would come and get us and that we’d find a safe place to stay until we could go home.
And we both believed that Honza would stay in our lives.
I catch Ruzena’s eye and we exchange looks. “He would not leave without saying goodbye,” she says.
“We will hear from him again,” I tell her.
Chapter 37
BITTERSWEET MESSAGES
RUZENA GETS UP and pulls on my arm, so I stand up next to her. “Mama,” she asks, “I think I might go play the piano for a little while, if that’s all right? Anna will come with me.”
“You may go.” Mama looks up from her sewing, a bit surprised. “But don’t be gone for too long.”
“Okay,” Ruzena agrees. “We’ll be back soon.” She leads me out of the room. Once the door closes behind us, she leans toward me and says, “We’re going to look for Honza.”
“What?”
“Mrs. D might be mistaken,” Ruzena says. “Let’s at least see if we can find one of his friends to ask what happened.”
Ruzena starts hurrying down the hall to the stairs, and I have to run to keep up. “We have to check all the rooms. The fourth floor is where the offices are, so we won’t go up there, but we’ll start on the third floor and work our way down to the cafeteria.”
We walk up and down the halls on the third floor, peeking into crowded rooms lined with cots. There are many boys wearing Scout uniforms who are about Honza’s age—but none of them are him or his friends. Every now and then, Ruzena stops someone and asks if they have seen Honza, but all her inquiries are met with regretful shakes of the head. Some people compliment her on her piano playing, and she thanks them before hurrying on.
The dull gray hallways on each floor seem endless, and the faces blur together as I try to keep up with my sister. I feel trapped in a maze. Finally, we finish searching the ground floor, and Ruzena sinks onto the bench we sat on when we first arrived. I sit next to her, still looking into every face hoping the next person to enter will be Honza.
After a while, my sister stands up. “He’s not here. Let’s go back to the room.”
We walk slowly, neither of us totally ready to give up. When we reach the bottom of the stairs, we hear a familiar voice. “Anna, Ruzena, wait! I’ve been looking all over for you.”
“Jiri! You’re here! Where’s Honza?” Ruzena cries.
He’s about to answer when Jan appears at the end of the hall and calls out, “Jiri, come on! Your father says we have to leave right now! Bye, Anna and Ruzena!”
“I’m sorry,” Jiri says. “I have to go.” He presses a folded paper into each of our hands. “These are from Honza. His uncle sent for him yesterday and he had to go immediately, but he made me promise I would give these to you.”
Then Jiri shakes my hand. “It was very nice to meet you, Anna. I hope you keep singing.”
“You too and good luck,” I say. Jiri turns and runs down the hall toward his friend.
Ruzena returns to the bench, and I follow her. I watch her unfold her letter, a sad half smile on her face.
I turn away and focus on my own note. The message is written in a hurried scrawl.
Dear Anna:
I’m sorry we won’t get to say goodbye in person. My uncle sent me a ticket to meet him in England and from there we’ll sail to Australia. I hope it won’t be anything like your “Storm at Sea” games! I’m so happy we got to travel together. I always wanted a little sister and now I feel like I’ve got one. I hope we’ll see each other again someday. Thank your mother for me and tell her I said goodbye! Stay brave and stay strong. Good luck finding your father and your new home.
Your friend, Honza
Knowing that he thought of me as a little sister makes me happy and sad at the same time. The word bittersweet pops into my head, and now I know what it means.
I sit quietly next to Ruzena, giving her some time alone with her letter. When she finally looks up, I ask her, “What did he say to you?”
“He says he will come to London in a few years to find me. I told him my dream is to study at the Royal College of Music in London after I finish high school.”
For once, I don’t have to ask any questions. I know we both desperately want that to come true. We stand and walk back to our room together, feeling closer to each other than ever before. This journey really has changed us.
When we enter the room, Mama and Mrs. D are just where we left them. Mama looks up and sees Ruzena’s pale face.
“Ruzena, are you all right?”
Ruzena nods as she sits back on the bed. “Honza is gone, but he said goodbye.”
I hand my note from Honza to Mama so she can read it, and sit down next to Ruzena. She relaxes her body against mine, trusting me to hold her up.
Chapter 38
MOVING ON
THERE IS NOTHING to do now that the boys are gone, so we stay in Mrs. D’s small room. I take each item out of my bag and put them back in again, hoping that touching my belongings will help me feel less lost, but it doesn’t work. Ruzena reads Honza’s letter over and over again, folding it up and smoothing it back out each time. Mama mends another pair of stockings while Mrs. D reads next to her. It has started to rain again, and I watch the drops hit the window and slowly roll down like tears.
A short knock breaks the silence. Ruzena jumps up and opens the door. A perfectly groomed officer stands at the door. He has a thin black mustache and his black hair is slicked back under his cap. I can tell by his uniform that he’s not American, but I’m not sure where he is from.
Mama gets up and speaks to him softly, and I’m pretty sure they’re speaking French. My French is terrible, so I have no idea what they are talking about. The officer gives my mother a polite smile and a bow. She closes the door and turns to Ruzena and me.
“Gather your bags, girls. We must go quickly,” Mama says while putting on her hat.
“Who was that? What did he say?” I ask.
“He said, ‘Madam, I’m sure you understand why I can’t introduce myself, but how long will it take you to get ready?’ I told him we could be ready in two minutes. He said we could have longer if we needed because he never knew a lady who could be ready in two minutes, but we must hurry.”
“How do you know we can trust him?” Ruzena asks the question that is always in my head lately.
“I just believe we must,” Mama answers. And there is nothing more to say.
We gather our bags, bid farewell to Mrs. D, thank her for her kindness, and follow Ma
ma out into the hall.
Mama says, “The lieutenant said we must walk out of the building, turn left, and get into the back of the first car. He is giving us papers so that we can travel with him as his family. I will be his wife and you will be his daughters. I think he will help us find Papa. Come along quickly now.”
My heart is pounding in my chest, but I try to hold my head high as I walk behind Mama and Ruzena.
We pass the rooms packed with people waiting to move on, wanting to go home.
Chapter 39
THE CHAUFFEUR
THE RAIN HAS stopped and the sun is trying to push through the clouds when we leave the building. The street is busy. Cars rush past, and people come and go. I watch them and wonder what they see when they look at us. Will they believe we’re a French family?
The car is waiting just as the lieutenant said. The French officer steps forward with a little bow, opens the back door of the car, and holds it wide for us to get in. Mama slides in first, then me, then Ruzena.
I’m worried and tired as the lieutenant closes the door firmly behind us and gets into the front passenger seat, next to a chauffeur wearing a black cap.
We’re in another car with another stranger we have to trust.
Then the officer looks over his shoulder and says, “I believe you know my driver.” The chauffeur turns to face us.
“Papa!”
Chapter 40
ANOTHER BORDER
MY HEART LEAPS with joy—I can actually feel it! We all reach out for Papa, and he reaches back and squeezes our hands. I want to jump into Papa’s arms, to hug the lieutenant, but I have to wait because we still have to drive to the border.