Emil and Karl

by Yankev Glatshteyn

  Then all at once the man stopped and began to shout.

  “I can’t do any more! I can’t do any more! I can’t stand this any longer!”

  The overseers grabbed him and dragged him off. They took him so far away that he disappeared from sight. The top hat still lay on the ground near Karl.

  chapter nine

  The overseers continued to herd the hundreds of men and women huddled on the ground. The men in uniform didn’t let people stay in any one place for very long but kept them moving. Emil and Karl saw that they should try to stay close together.

  Some people were pulled from the sidewalks into the middle of the street. The traffic was heavy. Cars whizzed by quickly, back and forth, and the men in uniform enjoyed watching as the people scrubbing the pavement barely escaped getting run over. They laughed at the sight of men and women scrambling on all fours to save themselves. Some of the drivers started chasing after these terrified people with their cars. They steered their cars this way and that, as if they were just about to run someone over. Usually a driver would pick on one person, and there would be a sort of contest between the driver and his target, who ran every which way to avoid a certain death. This joke caused the overseers to convulse with laughter. They were so amused by it that they began to herd more and more people into the street.

  Emil began to feel sick to his stomach. He was very hungry, but if he were given something to eat now, he wouldn’t have been able to take a bite. He felt sick from head to toe. Everything began to swim in front of his eyes.

  The top hat still lay on the ground near Karl. A man with a long gray beard was now washing the stones near him. He worked very quickly, as though he wanted to get the job over with as fast as possible. As he worked the old man hummed a tune to himself.

  Karl could hear the tune clearly; it was both sad and happy. The man with the beard was very small. Down on the ground where they were, it seemed as though he wasn’t much bigger than Karl.

  All at once some of the men in uniform noticed the old man as well as the top hat that lay on the ground between him and Karl. One of the overseers tore off the cap that the old man was wearing and put the top hat on his head.

  The old man looked strange in the top hat, which was far too big for him and kept falling over his eyes. He had to keep pushing it back, but the hat fell down as soon as he started scrubbing the pavement again.

  Soon a small circle of about a dozen men in uniform had gathered around the old man, all shaking with laughter. One of them laughed so hard that he fell down. The old man kept pushing the hat back, but the wide brim kept falling down each time he moved.

  All the while, Karl clearly heard that the old man kept humming his little tune. He could even hear the strange words that the old man was singing.

  “Oy, yo, te, ti-di-day, daylom, daylom. Oy, yo, te, ti-di-day, daylom, daylom.”

  The louder the group laughed, the bolder the old man became, and he sang all the louder.

  “Oy, yo, te, ti-di-day, daylom, daylom. Oy, yo, te, ti-di-day, daylom, daylom.”

  Karl couldn’t understand why they were laughing so much. The old man was performing a feat that couldn’t be easily matched. He scrubbed the stones and adjusted the top hat with such skill that he was a sight to behold. Yet it seemed that the man’s very agility was causing the overseers to laugh so hard that they almost collapsed.

  Then the group grew tired of this game, and they ran off somewhere else. Karl saw that another group had gathered in a different place to amuse themselves, but he couldn’t tell what was going on over there.

  Suddenly Emil groaned.

  “I’m sick.”

  “There, there, son,” said the old man, cautiously giving him a pat on the head. “You’ve got to be strong! Where do you feel sick, son?”

  “I hurt all over, and I feel sick to my stomach, too,” Emil moaned to the old man.

  “You mustn’t get sick. Better that they should be sick, not us.

  “If we get sick, then we won’t be able to hold out,” the old man said, all the while working and fixing the top hat with the same agility, even though no one was standing over him any more.

  “I don’t feel good,” Emil said quietly. He was getting paler and paler.

  “Listen, son,” the old man said, and he started singing his little song, “Listen to this, and you’ll forget that you feel sick.”

  “Daylom, daylom, oy, yo, te, ti-di-day, daylom.”

  Emil listened to the song, and it reminded him of his own grandfather’s singing. His grandfather had been a tailor. He used to wear a skullcap while he was working. He would spit on his iron, and when the iron sizzled, he’d sing the same way—daylom, daylom.

  Karl moved closer to the old man. Now he was in the middle, between the two boys.

  “That’s the way, fellows. Such nice Jewish boys, may God bless you. May God bless you, daylom, daylom.”

  He worked with great agility, and the boys worked enthusiastically alongside him.

  Suddenly, all three of them noticed an overseer standing there, watching them. Emil and Karl trembled with fear, and they started working even faster. The officer was an older man, and his face was wrinkled and sallow. He bent over and asked the old man, “How long have the children been working?”

  Emil and Karl heard the way that he called them “children”; it almost seemed to be kind.

  This encouraged Karl, and he answered, “For a long time, since breakfast.”

  “You can go home. That will be enough for you.”

  Emil was about to say that he didn’t have a home, but he stopped. He was afraid it would lead to more questions, and he wanted to get away as quickly as possible.

  “Can we go?” Karl asked again, because he couldn’t believe this sudden turn of luck.

  “Yes, children, you can go.” And then he added, “As a matter of fact, I’ll lead you away from here, until you’re out of danger.”

  Emil was the first to get up and the first to let out a moan. It felt as though he’d been broken into several pieces. He couldn’t stand up straight.

  “Whoever brought you here is—” the overseer’s face grew red as fire. Several times he opened his mouth to say something, but he stopped. “Whoever brought you here is a great big fool. Come!”

  He carefully helped Karl up from the ground. Karl also could barely stand up straight. The man accidentally touched the boy’s hand. Karl flinched in pain and waved his hand back and forth, as though he’d just been scalded.

  “Are you in much pain?” the overseer asked, drily.

  Karl bit his lip. Tears ran from his eyes, and his heart was heavy.

  “Yes! It hurts something awful.”

  The overseer had already started to walk away, but he turned around and said to the old man, “That’s enough for you, too, old man. You’ve already done your share.”

  The old man held the top hat with one hand and asked with a calm face, “Me? Why me? What did I do to deserve this? Thank God, I still have the strength to stay here with my brothers. Wait, you’ll see, because you are rescuing these children, God will reward you.”

  “Get up!” said the man in uniform, almost shouting. He picked up the old man’s cap, which lay nearby, and handed it to him. He pulled the top hat off the old man’s head, threw it on the ground, and stamped on it.

  “Get up, get up!” he ordered, “And come with me.”

  The old man rose slowly. First he smoothed out his beard, as though that was the only part of him that had gotten rumpled while he was crouching on the ground. When he stood up straight, he looked sharply at the overseer. He was perhaps half the size of the man in uniform, but he looked at him fearlessly.

  “What will become of all of the others? Who will help them?” he said, almost angrily. “Won’t they still be here, crawling around, even after I’ve escaped?”

  The overseer didn’t reply. The creases in his face became even heavier, like a sheet of rumpled paper.

  “Old man, you�
��re asking me about things I can’t explain. You’d better go away from here.”

  The old man became a little calmer. Emil and Karl huddled next to him.

  “Well, of course,” he said. “A man can’t just explain it away.”

  “Yes, you’re right, a man can’t explain it away—certainly not just one man. Each one of us is powerless by himself.”

  Several young men in uniform passed by. They all saluted the overseer with great respect. He responded with a raised hand and a stern face.

  The old man stood there, taking a last look at the great mass of men and women huddled on the square. He closed his eyes and mumbled something.

  They reached another street, where everything seemed calm and quiet—much calmer and quieter than usual. The overseer stopped.

  “Very well, you can now be quite sure that no one will bother you any more,” and he started to walk away.

  But Karl stopped him, tugging at the man’s sleeve.

  “I want to ask you something. I just want to ask you a simple question.”

  “Go ahead, don’t be afraid!” the man said. “Ask me whatever you like.”

  Karl thought, trying to put the words together inside his head, but all at once he blurted out, “What makes them do it?” He looked at the overseer with large, blue, inquiring eyes.

  The man in uniform stood silently for several minutes and looked at the children. He didn’t say a single word, and walked away. Emil and Karl turned around several times to see if he was looking back at them—but no, he walked away quickly, until he was out of sight.

  The old man practically danced for joy.

  “My, you are a clever fellow, you certainly asked him the right question. ‘What makes them do it?’ That’s just the thing to ask.”

  The man was so happy that he began to sing his little song again.

  “Oy, daylom, daylom, ya-te, ti-di-day, daylom, daylom.”

  Suddenly he stopped and smacked his forehead with his hand.

  “I forgot it already! How could I forget such a wonderful question! You must repeat it for me at least once, what was it that you asked him?”

  Karl began to sense that there was a strange purpose to his own question. He repeated it twice.

  “What makes them do it? What makes them do it?”

  “It’s as precious as gold! You really asked him the right question. He’ll never forget it. You saw how he walked away without saying a thing, didn’t you? No, he’s never going to forget it. You can’t forget a question like that so easily.”

  chapter ten

  The old man walked on. Emil and Karl trudged after him, heading in no particular direction, down streets that didn’t seem to lead anywhere. The boys had no idea where they were going and they didn’t care.

  Emil was no longer scared. What had happened to him that day was worse, much worse, than anything he had ever feared. He walked with indifferent steps; it didn’t matter to him in the least where they led.

  Emil felt that now he was quite grown up. He even decided he would not cry any more. He looked at his reflection in a window as they walked along and was surprised to see that he hadn’t grown any taller. It was reassuring, though, when he noticed that the old man was also short, not much taller than Emil himself.

  The old man couldn’t stop marveling at them.

  “You’re such wonderful boys, may God watch over you! You’re going to make your parents very happy. May you only have God’s help, may He only have mercy on us.”

  “We don’t have any parents,” Karl said.

  The old man stopped and stood still.

  “No mother and no father?”

  “No,” Karl answered.

  “Not you and not him?” the old man asked in a frightened voice.

  “Our fathers are dead, and our mothers are gone, too.”

  “Orphans—poor things, no parents at all,” the old man said, as if to himself.

  Emil wanted to tell him what had happened to his parents and to Karl’s parents, but he felt that it would be too much to explain. And now it didn’t matter to him, nothing did. He didn’t feel like saying a single word.

  Karl was the first to cry out when he recognized the street.

  “Look, Emil, we’re not far from your home. And from there it’s only two steps to mine.”

  “Whom do you live with, boys?” asked the old man.

  Karl felt somewhat embarrassed about getting so excited and shouting “your” home and “mine.” He lowered his head.

  “We used to live here,” he said, adding, “but now we’re staying with some friends. The janitor of the building where I used to live took us in. He’s a good man, and his wife is, too.”

  “Thank God. Thank God,” the old man said. “Well, of course—after all, are there no decent people left at all? There are still some good ones here on earth. They’re still here,” he said, and his face glowed with happiness.

  “So, I bid you farewell. May God watch over you,” the old man said.

  “Good-bye, Zeyde,” said Emil.

  “You’re a fine young man,” said the old man, happily, giving his cheek a pinch.

  As the old man walked away, Karl wondered what the word “Zeyde” meant. Emil explained that it’s what they used to call his grandfather.

  Karl didn’t want to be thought any less of than Emil, and he ran after the old man.

  “Good-bye, Zeyde,” he said, panting. “You’re a Zeyde, you’re my Zeyde, too.”

  A smile spread over the old man’s entire face. He stroked his beard and started to say something, but he couldn’t. He patted Karl’s head, and then he began to sing the little melody that he’d sung as they were scrubbing the pavement.

  Karl suddenly felt so happy! Now that he heard the melody one more time, he was sure that he’d never forget it.

  “Your song is very beautiful,” Karl said, delighted.

  “What, do you think it’s just mine?” said the old man. “Believe me, this melody is even older than I am. My father used to sing it, and his father did, too.”

  “It’s a Zeyde-song,” said Karl.

  “That’s it, you’ve got it. Now, do you know what I wish for you? I hope that you will grow up and, someday, you’ll be a Zeyde yourself.”

  When Karl returned to Emil, he found his friend standing in the same place, lost in thought.

  “I like him,” said Karl.

  “Me too,” said Emil.

  “We’re never going to forget him,” said Karl.

  “But we don’t even know his name,” Emil observed.

  “Didn’t you say that his name is Zeyde?” Karl wondered out loud. “That’s really easy to remember.”

  They walked toward the building where Karl lived. Everything there was still. All the windows were shut. The only living creature they saw was a kitten warming itself in the sun and yawning.

  “You see,” said Karl, “there’s the kitten from the cellar. It’s waiting for us.”

  They walked down the few steps to the cellar and opened the door.

  The janitor’s wife jumped up.

  “Where have you been, children? I didn’t know what to think. You’ve been gone for over five hours.”

  Emil was surprised to hear her say “over five hours.” To him it seemed as though five weeks had passed since he and Karl had wandered away from the house. And what hadn’t happened to them in those five hours!

  Karl started to explain, but suddenly he saw that Berta’s eyes were full of tears.

  “Where is Josef?” he asked, frightened, looking around the dark basement room.

  The janitor’s wife suddenly burst out crying. She sobbed and sobbed, unable to control herself.

  When she began to calm down, she told them that a few hours earlier storm troopers had come and arrested him. They’d also arrested Herr Schneidmesser, who lived upstairs.

  “Herr Schneidmesser is the man who gave us the meat,” Karl said softly to Emil.

  Karl didn’t know what c
ame over him. He wanted to kick someone, to scream at someone, but he didn’t know whom. Who was doing all of these things? He looked up at the ceiling, and it seemed to him as if the entire building would collapse any minute. The place was full of holes. His own apartment was empty, the Gutenglass’s apartment was empty, Herr Schneidmesser was arrested, Josef was arrested. There was no way that building would be able to withstand it. It would have to fall down.

  The janitor’s wife washed both boys’ hands gently with warm water. She looked at their red, swollen hands and cried once more.

  Emil’s pants were torn at both knees; Karl’s were torn only at the right knee. She undressed them both and put warm compresses on their wounds.

  She gave them hot soup to eat. Emil ate without much appetite, but Karl ate heartily, and he continued to talk about washing the pavement, the overseer who saved them, and Zeyde.

  Later she put the two boys to bed and mended their torn trousers.

  “It’s still early,” Berta said, “but you must be very tired. Just lie in bed if you can’t fall asleep.”

  It felt so good to be in bed. The warmth helped soothe their aching bones.

  “My feet and hands hurt,” Karl complained.

  “I hurt all over,” Emil responded, “My head, too.”

  The janitor’s wife quietly sewed patches onto their pants and listened as Karl talked and talked. From time to time she asked a question without raising her head from her work.

  “What did the overseer who saved you look like?” she asked.

  “Oh, he was older than the others, and his face was hard, it looked so serious. I would recognize him if I saw him on the street,” Karl said.

  “Me too,” Emil added.

  “And I would definitely recognize Zeyde,” Karl said, “But not the others. They all looked the same, they all had the same uniform and the same face.”

  “That’s very true, only good people have a face. You can recognize good people, but bad people all look the same,” she said quite softly, as if to herself.

  Karl thought about what she said, and Emil was quiet, too.