by Helen Burko
At that moment, he saw an army car chase Rachel and, after a few moments, stop her.
“Who are you, citizeness? Your license, please,” asked the man who was an officer with the KGB.
“I’m here with my friend the officer,” she explained coquettishly.
“Where is your friend the officer, and why did he let you drive at such a high speed?”
“I was playing a joke on him. Here he is!” She pointed to Bunin, who could be seen in the distance.
“Please follow us!” said the KGB officer and, getting into his car, drove toward Bunin, who was bewildered at the sight of the high-ranking officers who had stopped Rachel.
“I am Lieutenant Matvey Ostafovitch Bunin!” He introduced himself.
“So!” The officer sounded angry. “This is completely out of order, Lieutenant Matvey Ostafovitch Bunin! How could you allow her to drive an army vehicle? Do you know this woman?”
“Yes, she’s a friend,” Bunin apologized and tried to smile.
“She’s a devil and not a friend!” raged the officer. “Do you know what a mess your friend could get you into speeding like that? She could have caused an accident that might have cost not only her life, but also the lives of the people sitting in another car!”
“She was playing a trick on me, sir,” stammered Bunin, embarrassed. “I didn’t even know she knew how to drive.”
“That’s even worse, if you don’t know who your friends are and what they are capable of doing! Your papers, please!”
Bunin handed over his papers. The officer wrote down his name and returned them to him.
“I’ll release you, Lieutenant, but in the future, be a little more cautious with friends like these!”
“I’ll remember that,” Bunin replied in a friendly tone, thankful that he was getting away with it.
The officers left, looking back at Rachel’s face, who was smiling as if nothing had happened.
“You are really a devil!” Bunin said as they drove on. “Damn it, why did you do it? You could have paid dearly for your lunacy, and so could I. A miracle that it ended so well.”
“Oh, I wanted to surprise you, and I wanted to go wild a little. I was so bored; I was looking for such a chance!”
“You are so damn impulsive! Does your husband know you’re like this?”
“He’s not my husband!” She laughed.
“Not your husband?” he asked in wonder.
“No! We met by chance, and for now we’re living together.”
“So!” Bunin was so excited and happy to hear this. At that moment, a splendid plan entered his mind. “So, stay with me, and we’ll have a wonderful time!”
“Oh, no!” She laughed. “He’s taking me to America. He rescued me, and I owe him a lot.”
“Nonsense!” he said aroused. “If you want, you can come with me to Russia!”
“You probably have a wife. Do you feel the need for another one?”
“Nonsense! We’ll find a way! We’re young, and we should arrange our lives for our own good!”
“That’s why I won’t go to Russia with you. I’ve suffered enough in the war.”
“All right. But in the meantime, we can enjoy ourselves.”
“Sure…if you make it worthwhile.”
Soon they reached Praga, in Warsaw. Traffic at this hour was heavier than unusual. On the Wisla Bridge, people hurried back and forth. The last rays of the sun were mirrored in the waters of the Wisla River and cast long shadows.
Inside of Praga, they stopped before a restaurant that had just opened and where strains of music were heard. Someone was singing the popular song “Warshawa,” and the crowd joined in the words, “I’ll never forget you.”
Entering, Bunin and Rachel saw that the place was packed with army personnel and civilians: Russian soldiers with Polish girls, their faces flushed with food and drink. The shaky tables were piled with dishes, and the customers had to clear the tables by themselves. The room was smoke-filled and choked with the sharp smell of fried foods.
“I don’t like this place. Let’s go somewhere else,” suggested Bunin.
“And I feel good among this crowd! It’s gay here, and nobody pays any attention to anyone else!”
He saw that her eyes were sparkling and she wanted to stay in this cheap restaurant.
They sat down at a table already occupied by two middle-aged men and a woman who hadn’t finished their food and drink, but besides these two places, there wasn’t an empty chair. The two men moved their chairs and made room for the young couple.
One of the men, who was already intoxicated, shouted, “Waiter! Waiter! Damn it! Don’t you see we have guests?”
It was hard to catch a waiter, as they were so busy.
The woman at the table, who was also middle-aged, cried out to the men in Polish, “Why are you sitting there like fools? In the meantime, serve our guests something to drink and some sausage.”
“Thank you. Thank you very much,” Rachel said in Polish. “There is no need to bother. When the waiters are not so busy, we’ll order.”
They agreed to drink some of the liquor. Then Bunin ordered two more bottles of liquor, and they all drank together. Very soon, they were all quite drunk and friendly.
“Have another glass, please.” One of the men, who had a red face and bulging jaws, kept after Bunin. “Just one more little glass.”
“A toast to the Red Army and its heroic officers!” The other man, also a Pole and with a clipped mustache, filled the glasses again.
“Come on, Marushka, have another glass!” The Pole with the bulging jaws pressed the Polish woman who sat between them and couldn’t stop laughing. Marushka gulped down the glass like a man and didn’t blink an eye.
“Good and strong, psha krev!” she swore. “Oh, I’ve drunk too much, Mother of God. I’m as full as a barrel, and my head is spinning!”
No one paid any attention to their shouts and laughter. The Poles played up to the Russians, who felt their compliments weren’t sincere.
The noise and the confusion reached their peak when a Russian soldier ordered the musicians to play a Russian song and began to dance in the middle of the floor. A circle of drunken people immediately formed around him and shouted cries of encouragement.
“Faster! Faster!”
The young soldier went slightly mad and began to drag woman after woman into the dance with him. Some of the Poles were angry, but he didn’t heed them. When he came to Bunin and Rachel’s table, as drunk as he was, he asked permission.
“Would the Lieutenant allow me one dance with his partner? The Polish girls are too proud, and I want to show them what a Russian girl can do.”
Rachel didn’t wait until Bunin gave his permission but jumped up and began to dance. Bunin was quite proud of Rachel.
He smiled at the two men at the table, and one of them said, “The commander has a beautiful woman.” To the Poles, all Russian soldiers were commanders.
“Yes, by God, a princess! An angel from heaven!” said the other one.
Bunin didn’t respond. He was too busy watching Rachel, who quickly became the center of attention. Her dancing was graceful and nimble.
“Hey, may lightning strike me if that one couldn’t be a dancer in a circus!” someone shouted.
“Look at how she dances the hopak!” another said in wonder.
The circle around the two dancers increased. They all clapped hands to the rhythm. The people now hid the dancers from Bunin’s view. Someone shouted that he couldn’t see a thing and that the crowd should sit down. The noise and confusion increased from moment to moment.
“Bravo! Bravo! To the Red Army! To Stalin! To the comrades! What a dance, by God!”
And suddenly someone shouted, “To Poland!”
“To Poland!”
“To our beloved Warsaw!”
“To the Polish Army!”
In the midst of all this, Rachel continued dancing. Every twirl revealed her legs all the way up. Bunin, th
e two men, and the woman rose and pushed their way through the crowd to see Rachel dancing. She was flushed and sweaty, her hair was disheveled, and her breasts almost came out of her dress, but her energy didn’t flag.
Everyone looked at her in wonder, especially the men who surrounded her and shouted compliments. Then they carried her and stood her on a counter and clapped and yelled for her to dance there.
“Music! Play the hopak!”
“Oberek!” shouted others.
“Krakowiak! Krakowiak! Enough of the Russian dances!” another screamed. The noise was so great that they couldn’t hear each other.
Like in every spontaneous drunken spree, a fight soon broke out. Two wagon drivers from Praga began to argue with a Russian soldier; about what, no one knew. Bottles began to fly, the dancing stopped, and soon there were two sides, Polish and Russian. Someone called the Polish militia, and some of the men were arrested. Bunin succeeded in ducking out and dragging the drunken half-conscious Rachel with him into the car. He took her to his rooms, put her to bed, and tried to revive her.
“What a little scandalmonger you are,” he said as she lay in his arms. “I didn’t know you were like that!”
She didn’t respond and just lay there with closed eyes and let him kiss her, but when he tried to undress her, she sprang up suddenly and ran out of the room. Bunin, drunk and inflamed, ran after her. His little poodle, Goebbels, woke up and began to bark and jump on her, and he followed them into the forest. Bunin hurriedly brought the dog back to his room so he wouldn’t wake up the officers who lived in the same building, which was close to the hospital. There was also the danger that the incident might turn into a public scandal.
Rachel hid between the trees where no one could see her. She held her breath when she heard Bunin swearing and cursing as he searched for her. She passed out, and when she recovered consciousness, she was lying between some bushes and Bunin wasn’t there. He probably thought she had reached her home and gave up.
She was sorry she had told him Jacob wasn’t her husband and that she had gone with him and gotten so drunk. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have tried to rape her. She had just wanted to snare him, but it turned out differently. What should she do? Should she return to Jacob? He would surely throw her out if he saw her in this condition, but she had no choice.
She was so thirsty, and she rose to her feet and started to stumble along. Where to, she didn’t know yet. Maybe she should have stayed with Bunin. No, she was fed up with the Russian. Better to stay with Jacob.
Instinctively, she headed for the boarding house, stumbling along with difficulty. Suddenly she saw a light, and when she neared it, she heard Jacob’s voice.
“Rachel!”
Strange that she was happy to hear him. She could sense the sincere warmth in his tone. For the first time since they met, she felt a true feeling of gratitude toward him.
She couldn’t concentrate anymore. She remembered falling into the chair and that he gave her water. It was so good to feel him beside her, and she was relieved he didn’t throw her out. That’s all she remembered before she fell into a deep sleep.
*****
As she sobered up, she felt a bitter taste in her mouth and the heaviness of lead in her head. She pressed her hands to her forehead and leaned back in the chair. She was worn out and depressed, and she had an urge to cry. How lonely she was, how terribly lonely, and he—he loved her so innocently.
All at once, she felt revulsion from all her pretense. It was so hard for her to continue like this. She took off her torn dress and continued her train of thought. Who needed this war? It had brought her such suffering, mental and physical. She couldn’t return to her home and parents. What would become of her? Should she go with Jacob to America if she succeeded in placating him?
How I’ve degenerated, she sighed, ready to serve anyone who can help me. Does the result justify the means? Ahh, ideology! How absurd! Ideology! What is it to a single person? Was it really worthwhile to kill so many people just for an idea? Oh, there was so much I didn’t understand! What did soldiers know of ideology!
She went on tiptoe into the kitchen, wet a towel, and put it on her burning head. Afterward, she picked up Kitzie, who was lying in a chair, and held him.
“My Kitzie!” she whispered. “Did you miss me? I…” She almost screamed when she saw herself in a mirror, and she hurried back to her room. She sat in the chair and looked at Jacob, who was still sleeping.
Oh, how absurd. I think I’m really falling in love with him. He’s so good, and he loves me so. He wants me, he told me, to bear him children, to fill the void left by Doris and Lillian. But what will happen if he finds out the truth? And what will happen now when he wakes up?
She went over to the bed, undressed, put on her nightgown, laid down on the bed, and putting her arms around him, pressed her body close to his.
CHAPTER TEN
“Where were you? Where did you get so drunk?”
“In Warsaw.”
“Why did you suddenly go to Warsaw?”
“I was bored to death… And suddenly I had the urge to go to Warsaw.”
“How did that happen?”
“I was walking in the woods and met the Russian officer.”
“What Russian officer?”
“That doctor, Matvey Bunin, whom we met the first day we were here.”
“You went to Warsaw with him!”
“Yes. He took me in his car, and we went to a restaurant in Praga. Everybody was drinking, and so did I, to forget, but I drank too much. He did it on purpose…to…”
“I understand. Who tore your clothes? Did he?”
“I don’t remember. I danced the hopak—I wanted to go crazy. A fight broke out; we hardly escaped.”
“So?”
They looked at each other in silence. He rose from his chair and began to pace the room. In the dawn’s light, he looked paler than usual. His eyes seemed to grow darker with the anger he tried to restrain.
She sat on the bed with her legs down, her nightgown open halfway. She noticed that her knees were bare and began to look at the scratches there.
“Damn it!” she said, almost to herself. “I scratched myself when I ran away from him.”
Jacob didn’t react and avoided looking at her. His hands were deep in his pockets, and he kept pacing up and down. He went to the window and gazed out, breathing in the fresh air. Then he lit a cigarette, his tenth that morning.
When she saw that he was avoiding her, she covered her face and burst into bitter sobbing. That was the first time he had seen her cry, and it surprised him. She was so proud and arrogant and suddenly…
He let her cry. At first, he didn’t want to know anything. Her drunkenness had hurt and saddened him, but her behavior with the policemen confused him completely. He couldn’t find any rational explanation. He decided to question her, and then he asked her about that.
“Tell me, what was the meaning of your behavior when the police were here?”
“What police?” she asked, her eyes still wet.
“Don’t act the fool!” He decided to be rough with her. “Don’t you remember what happened in this room after you returned?”
“What do you mean?” She thought maybe he was trying to frighten her by mentioning the police.
“What does the expression ‘Donerwetter, Raus’ mean that you shouted at the police last night?”
She just looked at him in surprise. Blue rings were under her eyes, and she looked paler than usual.
“Are you pretending you don’t remember anything, or is it that you really don’t remember what happened?”
“What happened?”
When he told her what happened right after she returned home, she was amazed.
“Oh, my God! I really don’t remember anything. No, no, I don’t remember what happened. Maybe it was an illusion…of drunkenness. Maybe I said those words because I heard them so often when I was in Germany…in Majdanek. They must have come from my subc
onscious.”
“How did you remember to come here after you ran away from him?” He asked the questions like a lawyer in court.
“I really don’t remember how I got here. It could be that it was before I lost consciousness. I remember everything until I reached this room. But what were the police doing here?”
“I don’t know. I think it was just a coincidence. The police are looking for people who are hiding here under assumed names.”
After a long pause, she asked him in a choked voice, “Are you very angry with me?”
He didn’t reply.
“Are you angry with me?” she asked again.
“I don’t know whether to be angry at you or pity you.”
“I don’t like people to pity me, although maybe you should.”
“All right, then… I pity you.”
“I’m not to blame. My intentions were different, but the results were unexpected.”
“I don’t know what your intentions were. Every criminal has good intentions that don’t turn out as he or she expected.”
“Don’t mention criminals to me!” she shouted angrily.
“Is that an order?” His smile was sarcastic.
She didn’t respond; just held her head in her hands and sat motionless. She didn’t understand what was happening to her. Had she, in her drunkenness, revealed things that shouldn’t be mentioned?
After some moments of silence during which Jacob smoked incessantly, she turned to him. “Give me a cigarette.”
He gave her one and lit it for her.
She had to placate him. He was so good to her; she didn’t know what she would do without him. “Come and sit by my side.”
He didn’t move.
“I don’t want you to be angry at me,” she said in a pitiful tone.
“If you don’t want me to be angry with you, you shouldn’t get drunk with a man whom you hardly know. You should have waited, even if you were bored, for the man who loves you and whom you say you love.”
“Oh, darling, forgive me! I know I didn’t behave the way I should have, but don’t forget, I’m only a woman, and I have all kinds of desires and whims. You have things to do, but I stay here and I’m bored.”
“This is the first I’ve heard of that. Every time I invite you to come with me, you refuse.”