The Upside of Hunger

by Roxi Harms

  The next train was easy to find. Climbing into the first car, Adam settled into a seat in the back corner and waited impatiently for the train to move. So far, so good. No one at the busy station had even glanced at him. As they rolled away from the platform, he looked around cautiously at the other passengers. An older couple sat across from him, backs straight, eyes forward. The man's coat might have been blue once. Now it was worn thin and a pocket had been removed and used to patch the elbow. A couple of rows ahead of them sat a mother facing in their direction. Her two young daughters peered out the window silently, noses against the glass. They were about Anni's age, the age Anni would have been now. Their mother's lifeless eyes stared forward at nothing. Another woman sat near the front of the car on Adam's side, her back to him. Beside her Adam could see the top of a boy's head. The woman's bright red coat and fashionable red hat, trimmed with a pretty black band, were a jarring contrast to the other passengers. But she sat with her face turned to the window, and in the reflection her expression was forlorn.

  Adam looked out at the fields, away from the sadness that filled the train. He'd been gone almost a year and a half. Closing his eyes, he leaned his head back, wondering what he was going to find at home.

  George was twelve now. He'd have grown, probably a lot. And Theresa was nineteen. A woman. His mom and his grandma would both hug him hard. He smiled at their faces inside his eyelids. A couple of weeks ago, he'd asked the old man what he knew about the Russian occupation in eastern Hungary. He hadn't known anything specific about the area around Elek. Adam had tried not to think about it. His dad would have kept them all safe and fed anyway. If anyone could, it was his dad.

  CHAPTER SIXTY-FIVE

  Kétegyháza. They'd arrived. Adam was waiting at the train door to pull it open as soon as they pulled even with the platform. Sticking his head out, he glanced left and right. No uniforms.

  Jumping off, he dashed through the handful of people waiting for the train, and around the end of the station building to the road. They might be checking papers here before the train headed over the border, and he wanted to get far away from the train station as quickly as he could just in case. In the street, he turned towards Elek and forced himself to walk. Running through town would draw too much attention. Houses soon gave way to dry brown fields, the wheat long since cut and hauled away for milling. Unable to resist any longer, he broke into a run. The crisp air filled his lungs as he raced towards home.

  The strength to run was short-lived, however, and soon he slowed to a walk to catch his breath. The autumn sun warmed his back as he trekked along, and as the sights on either side of the road grew increasingly familiar, he found himself whistling an old tune.

  But as he turned the last corner, Adam stopped dead. A gate across the road. A checkpoint. Right there on the road a hundred metres in front of him. Behind it in the distance the Elek church tower rose through the trees. Two policemen stood in a little wooden booth beside the gate. Adam watched as one of them stepped out onto the road and took a couple of paces in his direction, a rifle swinging from his right hand. Adam's mind raced. He had to walk forward. Run and he'd be shot. Stand here and they'd know something was wrong. He had to walk towards the policemen and their guns. His mind cast around for a story. Another thirty seconds and they would be questioning him.

  "Hello," Adam called out in Hungarian as he approached the officer who was facing his direction.

  At that moment, the second policeman picked up his rifle and slung it onto his back as he stepped out of the booth to stop a little girl coming from the opposite direction on her bicycle.

  "Where are you going?" the second policeman barked at the girl, his back to Adam.

  "To the farm to see my grandmother and grandfather," Adam heard her answer, just as the first policeman addressed him.

  "Name," he demanded, staring coldly at Adam.

  "Adam." His voice came out too quietly. "Baumann. Adam Baumann," he said more loudly. He swallowed. Would Komarom have alerted them?

  "Papers," the policeman demanded.

  "I have to apologize, sir. When I came around the corner and saw you here, I realized I forgot my papers at my uncle's home near Budapest. I was helping him with the wheat harvest, and now that it's all done and the milling is all done, he said I can come home. My family is here in Elek."

  "By law you are required to carry your papers when you travel." The policeman's eyes narrowed. Adam's eyes went to the communist symbol on the collars of the officer's uniform.

  "Yes, sir. I know that and I apologize. I am in the wrong. I was happy to be coming home and I stupidly forgot to bring my papers. They are sitting on the shelf in my uncle's kitchen."

  "You are breaking the law by travelling without your papers," the officer repeated.

  Adam swallowed. His mouth had gone dry. "I am very sorry, sir. It was very stupid of me to forget my papers when I caught the train," Adam said again, in a thin voice. Suddenly he remembered his train ticket. He fumbled in his pocket and drew it out.

  "Here is my ticket from Budapest. I am very sorry that I forgot to bring my papers."

  The officer took the ticket and studied it. Adam watched closely, trying to read his expression. Little red veins ran like spider webs across the surface of the officer's nose. His eyes shifted from the ticket to Adam's shiny boots, while the hand holding the ticket fell to his side. Adam looked down, then looked at the officer's feet. The sole was coming loose at the front of one of his grimy, worn shoes, and the other had a hole where his dirty sock showed through. When he looked back up, the officer was smiling at him triumphantly. Wordlessly, he pointed to Adam's boots with his rifle and motioned for him to take them off. His heart still beating against his ribs, Adam leaned down and unlaced the boots. Dammit! He wanted to keep these boots! When he had them both off, he picked them up and placed them on the ground in front of the policeman. The officer reached over to lean his rifle against the shack, then slipped his shoes off and picked up Adam's boots before sitting down on the little bench at the front of the shack.

  Adam glanced over at the other policeman and the little girl. He'd missed what they'd been saying, but the officer was holding onto the handlebar of the girl's bicycle. She looked up at the man as she climbed off her bike, then over at the officer who was sliding his feet into Adam's boots. Her eyes brimming with tears, she glanced at Adam.

  "Go ahead," the policeman said to the girl impatiently. "You can go and visit your grandmother and grandfather."

  "No, I can't," she said through her tears. "It's too far to walk."

  The policeman holding her bike ignored her and wheeled the bike towards the back of the little shack.

  Adam shifted his eyes back to the first police officer who stood and took a few steps in the new boots, then picked his rifle up and came back to stand in front of Adam.

  "I should report you for travelling without your papers," he said staring into Adam's face. Adam said nothing and willed his eyes not to well up. "Never mind. Go ahead, go home. Don't forget your shoes," he said, pointing towards his worn-out pair.

  Wordlessly, Adam slipped his feet into the old shoes. They were still warm inside from the policeman's feet. Suppressing a shudder of disgust, he turned his back on the two policemen and walked around the end of the gate. As he walked past the little girl, he gave her a sympathetic smile.

  Looking down the road, he focused on the church tower and started to walk.

  CHAPTER SIXTY-SIX

  He'd almost reached the edge of town when he heard a commotion behind him. Someone was yelling. Looking forward, he kept walking. Whatever was happening at the checkpoint, he didn't want to be part of it. He was almost home.

  A woman was yelling behind him.

  "Aaaaaaa!" came the voice again. No, please, he thought to himself. Leave me alone. I just want to go home.

  "Aaaaaaadaaaaaaaaam!"

  Was someone calling his name? Reluctantly, he stopped and turned around. Two women were hurrying towards
him with the little girl, and one of the women was waving frantically. He stared at them, confused. Then suddenly, he realized who it was.

  "Mom!" he yelled, and began sprinting back towards the gate. His mom left the other two behind and rushed towards him.

  "Adam!" she cried out as they got closer together.

  "Oh, my God, Adam," his mom gasped as she threw her arms around him and squeezed. He leaned down and hugged her back, as hard as he could. She was so much thinner than last time he'd hugged her. They stood there holding onto each other until the other woman and the little girl caught up.

  "Look at you," said his mom, pulling back and looking up at him. Her cheeks were wet with tears. She laughed up at him and wiped her eyes with one hand. "Look at how tall you are!" she said before she wrapped both arms around him again.

  "How did you find me?" he asked, still confused, as his mom let him go.

  "Well, this beautiful little girl here," his mom smiled at the little girl who was grinning happily now, "was crying so sadly, we stopped to ask her what was wrong. And she told us that the police had taken her bicycle, and how they are stealing from everyone, they even stole some boots from a big boy named Adam Baumann, and she pointed to you up ahead. I couldn't believe my ears. And then you wouldn't stop!" she laughed. "Adam, this is Mrs. Kuhn. Her son is Henry. He was a cook in the German army. "

  "We should walk," Adam said, looking back at the policemen who were watching them.

  "Henry Kuhn," his mom said, as they started to walk towards town. "He wrote to his mother and said he had met up with you."

  Henry! From the camp where they had the hot meal just after Christmas. So the mail smuggling operation had been real!

  "Mrs. Kuhn came to see me when she got the letter a few days ago, and we went to Budapest to find you."

  "But I met Henry in Germany and that was ten months ago," he said, looking at Mrs. Kuhn. "We were never in Budapest."

  "Yes, we understand that now. We went to the address on the letter this morning, and they said it was just an address for forwarding mail from the front," his mom explained.

  "You just got off the train from Budapest?" Adam said incredulously. "I was on the same train."

  "It's been ten months since you saw Henry?" Mrs. Kuhn interjected anxiously.

  "Yes." How could he tell Mrs. Kuhn that they were still capturing and torturing German soldiers? If Henry had even made it through the slaughter in Berlin.

  "But he may still be in Germany. After the surrender, I was billeted to a farm in Bavaria to await my papers, and the Americans said that I would be able to use those papers to get into Hungary and get home. I left early, before the papers came, but Henry may still be working in Germany. The papers take a long time," he said, trying to sound convincing.

  At the edge of town, Mrs. Kuhn and the little girl left them to head to their own homes. His mom was walking along beside him, her arm firmly around his waist.

  "How is everyone?" Adam asked.

  She stopped and turned to face him, her eyes filled with pain.

  "The Russians took Resi. I don't know where she is." At his mom's words, panic clutched at Adam. "And your dad was drafted into the Hungarian army," she continued. "They said he was too old to fight, thank God, but he still had to go and drive supply wagons. He left over a year ago, not long after you. Resi left in January. I haven't heard from either of them since they left," she finished, her voice trembling.

  "You and George have been alone all this time?"

  "Yes, but we've been fine. George is a big boy now, and of course Uncle Florian has been a big help. There hasn't really been any serious trouble here since they transported everyone to work in Russia. They steal whatever they want, like your boots, but nothing really bad now. Never mind, let's get home so you can see George, and I'll fix supper. You're so thin!"

  CHAPTER SIXTY-SEVEN

  They divided a bit of leftover stew and polenta onto three dishes. With only three of six chairs filled, the kitchen felt lonely. While they ate, George told Adam how he had looked after the family home all year. He'd made sure the pens in the backyard were in good repair, the way their dad liked to see them, and helped some of the farmers with their vineyards. The rich farmers had really appreciated his help, George explained with pride.

  Adam listened attentively. His little brother had been only ten when Adam had run off. He must have been terrified after their dad had gone, being the only male in the house. He'd had to grow up quickly. Adam felt a pang of guilt.

  "You did a great job of everything, George. Dad will be really happy," he said warmly when George had finished.

  He had wanted to believe everyone was safe at home while he'd been away, but as he talked with his mom that night, he learned the truth. In August the previous year, not long after he'd left, Romania had become a Russian ally, making the nearby border into an enemy line. The Russians had entered Hungary in late September. For two weeks, the fighting had raged, first at the edge of town as the Hungarian troops strove to hold the enemy out, and then in the streets of Elek among the houses. Families had clung together behind locked doors, trying desperately to hide as gunfire riddled the walls and explosions shook the ground. Before long the Hungarian losses were too great, and Elek fell. Adam shut his eyes while his mom talked, imagining the terrifying events happening right there in Elek while he'd been in the training camp.

  For the next three months, there was no rule of law, and chaos had reigned. Russian soldiers, long desensitized, roamed the streets looting and raping. Thankfully, the cemetery caretaker had devised a plan to protect his three daughters, and he'd thoughtfully invited Theresa to join them. A pile of bricks in his yard was cleverly rearranged with a space in the centre to hide the girls. The ruse had worked.

  Just before Christmas, the Russian officials arrived to organize the occupation. While the most flagrant abuses were brought to a halt, a more devastating plan was in the works. Gates were erected at all entry and exit points. Leaving was punishable by death. Within days a terrifying notice was posted on the street corners. All women aged 17-35, and men aged 16-45 were to assemble at prescribed locations around town with warm clothing and bedding, and enough food to last three weeks. Stories were circulated by the Russians. They would be going to Russia by train, where their help was needed to rebuild war-damaged areas. Some would be working in sugar factories.

  Theresa's assembly point was the movie theatre. After everyone had dutifully arrived, the doors were locked behind them. In the following days, while the men and women were held captive, the remaining food stores of the people staying behind were collected and loaded into boxcars. A final order was issued for relatives to bring nice clothes and jewellery to the meeting points for the labourers, as they would have opportunities to go to the theatre and the opera, and enjoy other entertainment in Russia.

  In mid-January, a long line of cattle cars departed, carrying Elek's young men and women, almost a thousand in total. Theresa, Aunt Maria, Franz and Stumpf, Michel and Tony Pender, and Uchie were all on board. Uchie, who only a few months earlier had left the train platform in Budapest in tears, opting to stay safe at home.

  A few weeks before Adam's return, a single rail car full of people too sick to work had arrived back in Elek. Relatives waiting at home learned that the transport had gone to a place in Russia called Krivoy Rog, the passengers nearly freezing to death on the way. The Russian soldiers had cut holes in the side of each car and used gutters ripped from nearby houses to create makeshift chimneys. Each car had been provided with a pile of firewood and a metal jerry can to use as a stove. Another hole was cut in the floor of each car for a toilet. On arrival in Krivoy Rog, they'd been sorted by strength and sent to different camps.

  On arrival, the women were injected with an experimental drug the Russians were developing, in order to avoid the inconvenience of menstruation and pregnancy. Although temperatures of -35 to -40 degrees Celsius were common in winter, the bunkhouses lacked heat. Nor did they have
toilets or washing facilities, and guards were soon shaving heads as treatment for the rampant head lice. It was hard for Adam to imagine a woman from Elek having a haircut, never mind having her head shaved. They grew their hair for their whole lives according to tradition, braiding it modestly but proudly. It was part of them.

  With workdays of ten hours or more, seven days per week, and a lack of food, the workers began succumbing to the conditions. People averted their eyes when they passed by the shed where rats fed on the growing pile of bodies.

  But no one on the returning rail car had had any news of Theresa.

  When his mom finished talking, Adam sat silently, staring into the darkness, his cheeks wet with tears. His sister. His beautiful sister. She was strong. But was she strong enough?

  CHAPTER SIXTY-EIGHT

  The blood pounded in Adam's ears as he climbed the steps of the Elek town hall a few days later. He'd argued with his mom, but he was convinced it was the right thing to do. Without papers it was just a matter of time before the communists threw him back in jail.

  Pulling the heavy door open, he slipped inside and stood quietly at the back of the familiar room. A few clerks sat at desks over to the right. As Adam watched, one of the doors along the back wall opened, revealing an office filled with a large desk. His heart missed a beat. The portly man who sat at the desk studying a stack of papers was wearing a communist uniform. The woman who had opened the door from inside walked out, closing the door behind her. She paused, looking directly at Adam, then begin walking briskly towards him. Adam turned and pushed the door open and let himself back out onto the step. A second later, the door opened again and the woman slipped out beside him.

  "Adam, what are you doing here?" she asked nervously, glancing up and down the street.