The Upside of Hunger

by Roxi Harms

  CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED THIRTY-TWO

  With the ferris wheel uproar behind them, the extended family settled into a comfortable routine. The girls toddled around the orchard, learning to help their granny and grandpa tend the garden and feed the animals. Adam's father perfected his method for cherry schnapps in the still he and Adam had built. School had become easy for Frank once he'd settled in, and his stories of what he and his friends got up to amused them all around the supper table.

  In the summers, activity centred around the amusement park. Adam's mom became a pro in the kiosk, perfecting the art of spinning cotton candy and teaching first Sue, then Sandy, and finally Cheri, how to count out change when they were old enough. His dad busied himself helping the kids on and off the rides and making sure the grounds were groomed to his satisfaction. In addition to looking after the ponies, Frank handed out golf clubs and whatever else needed doing.

  Everyone had a part to play, and on the surface at least, everyone seemed content.

  "Hey, Randy," Adam said to one of the guys around the table at the Three Gables Pub one afternoon. "I hear you had a few drinks with my old man the other night."

  "You can say that again. A better name for that schnapps he makes would be white lightning. We sat by that still and drank until he damn near had to carry me out to my car. Your old man's a good guy. We talked about a lot of stuff."

  "He can talk, that's for sure." Adam took a swig of his beer.

  "You know what he told me?" Randy laughed. "I asked him how he liked living in Canada. He said ‘Effryzink in Canada is fery nice. Vee like Canada fery much.'" Randy mimicked Adam's dad. "'But you know Randy,' he says to me, ‘I ask you a question. You efer see zee cow suckink on zee calf before?' I asked him what he meant. ‘Ees no goot,' he says to me. ‘I am zee faazer and Adam is doink all zees zings for us. Ees no goot.'"

  Adam laughed at his friend's attempt to sound like his dad and changed the subject. Inwardly, he was deflated. He just couldn't win.

  CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED THIRTY-THREE

  1962

  Putting his dad's comments out of his mind, Adam decided it was time to develop the parcel of land he'd purchased five years earlier. The community was skeptical about the property. His friends laid bets it couldn't be developed. Too steep and rugged for roads and no access to water, they said. True to form, Adam disregarded the talk. With some creative engineering, the roads into and around the property turned out great. The water issue he solved with a little aluminum fishing boat, dragging a high capacity water line capped by an industrial foot valve out into the lake at the base of the property. When everything was ready, he ran a competition to name the subdivision, and then splashed full-page ads all around the valley. ‘Live at Sage Mesa for just $35 per month!'

  Little Susie was already in second grade, and Sandy in kindergarten when Adam decided to sell the orchard and move the family up to Sage Mesa. Having more residents in the subdivision would make it more attractive, and after five years of hobby farming they were all ready for a change. While the crew broke ground for a new home for him and Jean and the girls up at Sage Mesa, Adam helped his parents select a little house near the motel and golf course, put a down payment on it and co-signed for a mortgage in his dad's name.

  Adam's overactive mind continued to turn up opportunities.

  A franchiser looking to establish a Suzuki motorcycle outlet was on the verge of choosing a new location after realizing that no building in Penticton met his requirements. And the franchise was to open for business within the month. Adam was confident he could build to suit in the required timeframe and approached the man with a proposal. Construction began at 2 a.m. as the crew broke ground in the moonlight. Ten days of double shifts later, they completed the building, a building that, years later would be the birthplace of Adam's mini-storage empire.

  Not long after, he received a call from a fellow who had foreclosed on a large piece of property south of town and was wondering what to do with it. The man on the phone, surely with Adam's successes at Sage Mesa in the back of his mind, asked if Adam would come up and have a walk through his property.

  "Do you think it has any potential?" the fellow asked as they finished the walk.

  "Well, you have a little mudhole here, you could dredge that and make a nice little lake. You've got that lodge building over there, that could be a clubhouse. I think you could make a nice golf course here. And you could make good building lots all around it. All up there and around there," Adam waved his arm. "It needs a lot of work, but, yes, I think it's got potential."

  Adam negotiated for a 15 percent share and they got to work. They decided to call the project St. Andrew's Golf and Country Club.

  But the developer didn't have the money to keep the project going full time and St. Andrew's was slow from the start. To fill his time, Adam accepted a job in Vancouver for the same fellow, as operations manager of a factory that made fire-rated doors for commercial buildings. They needed someone to turn it around and make it profitable.

  The girls were already in bed when Adam arrived home from his first trip to Vancouver. He'd rented himself an office with an adjoining apartment and had a walk through the door factory. He poured himself a scotch and sat down in the living room to update Jean.

  "Sounds interesting," she replied when he'd finished outlining his plans. "We'll manage fine. Vancouver isn't far away if we need you. On another note, Susie came home crying today. The kids were calling her and Sandy names again. This time it was ‘Hitler's Flower Girls.' Honestly, these kids don't even have a clue who Hitler was. Their parents should be ashamed of themselves for what they're teaching their kids."

  "What did you tell the girls?"

  "I just told them to ignore it. It'll pass."

  "People are so stupid," he paused and stared down into the ice in his glass for a moment, then smiled at Jean. "Yes, it'll pass. It always does."

  The door factory didn't take long to turn around, and before long, Adam had time on his hands again.

  Emil and Tom were from Hungary, so it was only natural that they and Adam would strike up a conversation when their paths crossed at the Three Gables Pub one afternoon. The two of them had fled Hungary when the violent uprising against communism had failed a dozen years earlier. They made a living in Canada speculating on mining claims. Anxiously, they described an option they had on a mercury mine in the interior of British Columbia. Cash was short and if they didn't come up with $5,000 by the following week, they would lose the claim.

  Within a week Adam had visited the site, researched the mercury market, paid the money to retain the option, and changed the sign on the door of his Vancouver office to "Condor Mines," the name of the new company he'd incorporated.

  A year later Adam took Condor Mines public on the stock exchange and raised the money for the exploration phase. The Nomura Mining Company of Japan visited Adam's office in Vancouver. They wanted all the raw mercury he could produce, and flew him to Japan to wine and dine him and discuss a partnership. The press release about the contract between Condor Mines and the Nomura Mining Company drove Condor's stock prices from twenty-five cents up to three dollars overnight. Adam had scored again.

  CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED THIRTY-FOUR

  1966

  Adam missed Theresa, and he'd promised Jean he'd show her Europe. A lull in the exploration work was perfect timing for a visit to Germany. His parents could look after the girls.

  When Theresa had caught her breath and they'd stopped laughing about Adam's unannounced appearance at her front door, he introduced Jean. She's so like Mom, Adam thought, as Theresa wrapped her arms around her sister-in-law.

  The little barber shop Theresa's husband had installed in their basement to make a bit of extra money was packed with neighbourhood men waiting their turn. In the midst of their jovial laughter and gossip about the village, Adam quietly settled into an empty barber chair, waiting to see when someone would notice the newcomer.

  A minute later, his br
other-in-law spotted him.

  "Adam!" he yelled out in shock.

  "Ahh!" yelled his startled customer.

  Adam and Jean spent the next few days making the rounds of Adam's relatives. Everyone was delighted with Jean. A Canadian girl who spoke Eleker German! Not long into the trip, Adam had an idea that delighted him more than anything had in quite some time. Hungary, still under communist control, remained closed to Germans, but he had a Canadian passport now.

  Theresa's eyes filled with fear when he told her their plans.

  "Don't worry, Resi. There's no danger now. And can you imagine how wonderful it would be to see Uncle Florian?"

  There were a lot of questions at the border about where they were going and what they would be doing, but in the end, their Canadian passports did the trick. Adam was giddy when he opened his eyes the next morning and looked around. He was in Budapest. The last time he'd been in Budapest, he'd been delivering tobacco to the prison camp for his dad. And today he was going to take Jean to Elek, and they were going to see Uncle Florian! He lay there for a minute, thinking about his uncle standing on the platform the day they'd been deported, tears running down his face, his arm around his wife, while all of his relatives rolled away in a cattle car.

  Adam couldn't stop grinning as they breakfasted in the lovely old dining room. He'd never been inside one of these grand old places before. Such old-world charm and so different from Canada.

  "May I see you in my office for a moment?" the front desk manager asked when they were checking out of the hotel. "It will only take a moment."

  Shutting the door behind Adam, the man waved graciously for him to sit. "Thank you for your time, sir. I am the manager of the hotel and I was just having a look at your bill."

  "Is there a problem?" Adam asked.

  "No, sir, no problem at all. I was just wishing to enquire as to which currency you were planning to use to settle the bill. You see, we accept Deutsch Marks and US Dollars as well as the local currency in which the bill is printed." The manager spoke in a most serious tone.

  "Well, it doesn't matter to me." Adam had purchased a small amount of Hungary's new currency, the Forint, but not much, on the advice of other customers at the currency exchange booth. The Forint had been weakening steadily and people felt it was on the verge of collapse. "What currency would you suggest?" Adam asked the hotel manager.

  "I have your account here, you see," the manager said in his grave tone, "and it might be possible to offer a slight discount, perhaps up to 50 percent, if you were to pay in Deutsch Marks."

  Adam counted out the appropriate number of bills while the manager tore the paper in half, then tore it again, and once more before dropping the pieces into the garbage can under his desk. When he'd finished, he held out his hand for the money and casually tucked the bills into his pocket.

  "I trust everything was to your satisfaction?" he continued, as if the exchange had not taken place.

  "Oh, very much. I'll look forward to staying again when I'm next in Budapest."

  Adam's mind swirled as he showed Jean around Elek. The family home, the school, the pond, the Mahler's house, the town square, the church, Joe's house, the warden's house, the graveyard. There were so many stories to tell.

  When they parked in front of Uncle Florian's house in Gyula late in the afternoon, Adam sat in the car for a few moments, staring at the house. He'd thought about his uncle often over the years. They'd had letters of course, but what was it really like living under a communist regime? He wondered how much they didn't know. A moment later, Uncle Florian's head poked out the front door. Adam opened his car door and stood up so his uncle could see him.

  "Uncle Florian! It's Adam!" he said in Hungarian. As the old man stepped out onto the porch Adam blinked hard to keep his tears back. He was so stooped, and so much thinner.

  "Adam?" His uncle looked confused as he stared back at Adam.

  Adam switched to Eleker German. That would be a big clue. "Have I changed that much in twenty years?" he said, walking around the car so his uncle could get a better look.

  "Oh, my God, Adam. Little Adam." Tears filled Uncle Florian's eyes as he came down the steps and towards Adam, arms outstretched. After a long embrace, his uncle stood back, holding Adam at arm's length, looking up at him. "Look at you." His gaze shifted to something behind Adam. Suddenly Adam remembered Jean.

  "Uncle Florian," he said turning and opening the car door for Jean, "this is my wife, Jean."

  "I am so pleased to meet you. Adam has told me so much about you," said Jean taking both of Uncle Florian's hands in hers. Pulling his hands free, Uncle Florian kissed Jean on her cheeks and then wrapped his arms around her in a big hug.

  "Such a beautiful wife, Adam," he said, flashing a broad smile at Adam as he let Jean go. With the twinkle in his eye he looked like the Uncle Florian Adam remembered. "Come. Come in." He turned to lead them into the house. "I can't believe you're here! How did you get across the border?"

  "I'm a Canadian now," Adam explained.

  The evening passed in a blur, as Adam caught up with his uncle, aunt, and cousins who had been teenagers last time he'd seen them. Words and laughter tumbled around the cozy little room as they exchanged stories and learned about one another's lives over the last two decades.

  The next morning came too soon.

  "It's because of the German name, you see," his uncle explained as Adam drove the rental car towards the work camp where Florian had to spend the day. "We get a few Forints. The Hungarian nationals get a bit more. But our real compensation is the wonderful care that the state gives us. We work, we eat, we have a few clothes to cover our backs, and that's about it. It's the communist way. And if we don't like it, or if we miss work, or if a good communist overhears you talking against the state, it's jail. Believe me, I'm familiar with their jail. But it's not that bad really. It's worth keeping your mouth shut while you're in there, or they'll give you a beating. Otherwise, you get a bit of food and you have to work, same as always. The main difference is that you don't get to see your family or sleep in your own bed." Uncle Florian smiled at Adam as they pulled up in front of the gate. "Thank you for the ride in this wonderful little car, Adam." He put his hand on Adam's on top of the gear shift and squeezed. "I still can't believe you're really here."

  Adam sat in the car and watched as his uncle went in through the gates. "I'll pick you up at five!" he yelled out after him.

  After his uncle disappeared, he didn't move. There had to be something he could do. He and Jean only had a few days until they would have to leave again. A few minutes later he started the car and moved it to the parking lot, then grabbed a bag from the back seat and strode towards

  the gate.

  "I would like to see the Commandante immediately," he barked at the guard in Hungarian.

  The guard didn't hesitate. "Just a moment." He turned and disappeared for a couple of minutes inside the gate. When he reappeared, he ushered Adam inside and down a corridor to an office.

  Stepping inside the office with the little bag in his hand, Adam pulled the door shut softly behind him, then turned to speak to the man seated behind the desk.

  "Good morning, Commandante. My name is Adam Baumann and I am from Canada. I'm here in Gyula visiting my relatives." At this point Adam stopped and sat down on the chair facing the desk, and set his bag on his lap. The man behind the desk watched and listened silently. "Do you have any children, Commandante?"

  The man blinked and looked harder at Adam, as if he wasn't sure what Adam had just said. "What are you asking me?"

  "Do you have any children?"

  "Yes, I have three children as a matter of fact."

  Adam opened the bag and pulled out a handful of the candy that he'd bought just before leaving Germany. "I'd like to give your children a little gift. I have some pens here too. I've heard that it's very difficult to come by ballpoint pens. Perhaps your children could use them in school." The Commandante's eyes lit up. "If you have a moment,
I have a request I'd like to explain to you," Adam continued, "and since you have children I'm sure you'll understand because my request is about family. You see, my family was deported from this area twenty years ago. Every one of us. Me, my brother and sister and parents, grandparents, aunts and uncles. All except for one uncle who is married to a Hungarian woman. My uncle hasn't seen any of his family in twenty years. I live in Canada now with my wife and children and my parents and brothers as well. And I've come all the way from Canada to see my uncle. But I only have this week, and then I have to fly back home and back to work. So I was hoping you could organize for my uncle to have some time off work to spend with me."

  When he'd finished speaking, Adam reached out and placed the bag on the desk, then reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out the pens he'd also brought from Germany.

  The man watched all this in silence. After a few moments he spoke. "What is your uncle's name?"

  "Florian Baumann."

  "Guard!" The man's yell startled Adam. A moment later the guard who had shown him into the office appeared in the doorway.

  "Bring Florian Baumann to me."

  "Yes, sir."

  Adam's heart pounded.

  A few minutes later, Uncle Florian appeared in the doorway. When he saw Adam, his eyes grew nervous. Adam could tell he was worried about what kind of trouble might be brewing. "You called for me, sir?"

  "Comrade Baumann, you are not looking very well today," the Commandante said to Uncle Florian.