by Shmuel David
That very same day, after the doctor examined me, Inge handed out notices with strict instructions from the doctor—six important rules that would help the passengers avoid catching dysentery. She gave a written notice to every few families and added verbal explanations.
“Drink lots of water,” she told me. “I’ll see you once you get better.”
After barely eating a thing for twenty-four hours, I was weaker and could barely stand on my feet. Mother kept going to the kitchen to get water for me, until she said they wouldn’t give her any more. They were saving water for cooking dinner. Father exploded when he heard that.
“No water? What is the meaning of this? Do they want our son to die from dehydration?” His face turned red. I had never seen his eyes blaze with such anger, not even when I was seven years old and we’d gone to one of the large buildings he’d built in the city where he’d screamed at the contractor. I was so afraid of him back then that I hid behind a nearby tree and waited for him to calm down.
“I’m going to the kitchen right now,” he said angrily. “I’ll show them.”
“Calm down, Emil. I’ll go again soon and talk to Carl; he’s in charge of the kitchen. I know him because I bring him food supplies from the storage room. It’s just that he wasn’t there now,” Mother tried to calm him down.
“Don’t tell me to calm down! This is our son!” he was very upset. Mother ran after him and tried to stop him.
“Father, it’s all right. I’m fine,” I tried to call with what little strength I had, but he didn’t hear me. He shrugged off the coat Mother grabbed in the hope of stopping him and went on his way.
I couldn’t see the rest. I heard people running and shouting and kitchen pots crashing on the floor or against a wall. Two days later, Inge told me what had happened. I was already hospitalized in the floating isolation ward Dr. Bezalel had managed to arrange with the aid of the Federation of Jewish Communities. Inge took care of me and the other patients.
Mother was worried about my condition and called Dr. Bezalel again. He arrived with a grim expression on his face and told us there were eight more patients. One of them was Jacob, who was severely ill. There were also two adults among the patients, but Jacob’s condition continued to deteriorate daily. The doctor was concerned about the possibility of mass infection and asked the Federation to provide him with one of the unused ferries docking at the winter bay and equip it with hospital cots. It would serve as an isolation room for all the patients. He said that if we followed the rules, the disease could be contained within three or four days.
The following morning, a small ferry docked next to our three boats. It looked more like a large raft than a ferry. By then, we were over twenty patients. We were transferred to hospital cots on the ferry, and we each received several woolen blankets. Dr. Bezalel put Inge in charge of the isolation room. He gave her a white nurse’s cap, so everyone would recognize her. The cap made her look even more beautiful. She walked among us, poured water into cups, took our temperatures, and kept meticulous charts, just like the nurses I’d seen in the city, when Klarie was hospitalized.
“Now I know exactly what I’ll do in Israel. I’ll go to nursing school and help sick people. I heard there’s a nursing school in Jerusalem, on Mount Scopus,” she said, while sitting on my bed and pouring water into my cup. “Just so you know, your father can be really scary sometimes,” she suddenly added.
“Why is that? Because of what happened with the water two days ago?”
“Yes. He seems like such a quiet and noble man, but when he loses his temper, God help us all…”
“What happened? I only know it helped get this ferry here.”
“I was there, and all I can say is that something terrible could have happened. Your mother and I tried to stop him, but it was impossible. He screamed at everyone there, claiming that some people are getting more water than others on the boat.”
“But it’s true. He was right. I’ve seen the Zukerman sisters showering with buckets of water every morning.”
“But they’re not using drinking water, Hanne. You’re not making any sense!”
“I’ll admit they’re using river water, but I’ve also seen people getting buckets of water from the well.”
“Nonsense! Who told you that?”
“Efraim. One day, the father of those two sisters took the bucket Efraim had struggled to bring from the well, and after Efraim walked off, he used the drinking water from the bucket to wash his two girls.”
“All right, but it has nothing to do with this. Do you want to hear what happened in the kitchen, or don’t you?”
“Of course… You know I’m dying of curiosity.”
“It was scary. He screamed at Carl that he’d kill him unless he gave him some water for his sick son right away.”
“I can’t believe it. He’s never acted that way. He’s always so restrained. I don’t understand.”
“It’s because of all the pressure here. Everyone reacts differently. You can actually see people’s true faces, instead of the masks they wear most of the time.”
“Are you trying to tell me this is my father’s true face?”
“Maybe…”
Dr. Bezalel arrived.
“I see you’re having an interesting conversation,” he said smilingly. “Just don’t forget the other patients. Do you have this morning’s report?”
“I’m just finishing it.”
“Bring it to me when you’re done. I think I’ll transfer two more patients here,” he said and turned toward the bridge connecting the isolation room with the Kraljica Marija.
“You’ve become very busy,” I told her.
“Yes, I must go now. I don’t want to upset Dr. Bezalel. He’s been working so hard these last few days.”
“So have you. Isn’t that true?”
“Yes, but all the responsibility is on his shoulders. Everyone expects him to solve their problems because he’s a doctor. What could they possibly expect from me? I have to go now.”
All that time, Jacob lay burning with fever next to me.
Once he started to feel better, he told me about his family in Berlin. About his sister, Eva, who was one year his junior, his little brother, David, and his father, a successful fur trader, a stern and serious man.
“He says I’m reckless and confused,” Jacob complained. He told me the money his father had given him had almost run out. “If he knew what I’d spent the money on, he’d go crazy,” he said, on the verge of tears. “And it’s not that he’s against drinking, but he’d tell me, ‘Why didn’t you buy smaller bottles? Why did you buy the most expensive ones?’ You saw what I’ve been buying, didn’t you? So tell me, Hanne, what do you think I should do? Do you think I should tell him the truth? That I ran out of money?”
I didn’t know what to say.
“I don’t know. My situation is very different from yours,” I answered him.
He persisted.
“I have an uncle named Max. He really likes me and always said that I could turn to him if I ever needed anything. What do you say?”
But I had no answer for him.
Inge had taken good care of Jacob, and so did Shlomit, his girlfriend, who often came from the Kraljica Marija to visit him. She sat beside him, even though the doctor had warned her of infection. But she was a brave and practical girl and occasionally helped Inge with the other patients.
***
Toward the end of the week, the isolation room had become intolerably crowded. Luckily, I already felt well enough to give up my bed to another patient.
“I’m going ashore,” I told Mother, putting on some warm clothes. “I could do with some fresh air.”
“Don’t stay outside for too long,” said Mother. “I have enough to worry about.”
I walked off the boat along the slippery gangway and walked
along the river, toward the edge of the village.
Cold air filled my nostrils. Everyone sat in the crowded boats all day long. Maybe if they’d get out for some fresh air more often, there’d be less illness on the boats. I suddenly felt pretty much on my own. Pauli, thanks to his charisma and leadership skills, had befriended the Hechalutz and Blau-Weiss youths from Vienna, and they were always busy with social activities and lectures. I couldn’t find a place for myself among them. Inge was the only one my age I could actually speak to, but she was busy with her new duties now.
I reached a small dock where fishing boats were tied to docking poles on the platform. There were several buildings next to the dock. They looked abandoned, but emitted a strong smell of fish and had tall towers of crates next to them, probably intended for storing fish.
An old man sat at the entrance to one of the buildings; next to him were large piles of fishing nets. He held the end of a net in one hand and a large needle in the other and was preoccupied with his work. A packet of cigarettes and a small glass with the remains of coffee were on the chair beside him.
“Hey, boy, what are you doing here?” he called to me.
“I’m just out for a walk,” I told him. “I come from the boats in the ice harbor.”
“Oh, you’re one of the Jews.”
“Yes,” I answered. “What are you doing?”
“Can’t you see for yourself?”
“Is that your work?”
“Look how many nets I have here. Doesn’t it look like work to you?”
His work looked endlessly repetitive. There were countless holes in the net, and I couldn’t tell which ones he’d already mended.
“It looks like hard work,” I watched his fingers running back and forth between the loops of the net, tying, stretching, and moving on. I couldn’t tell which parts needed mending.
“It’s all a matter of understanding the method. To the onlooker, the holes appear to be endless.”
His lips remained pursed around a cigarette butt as he spoke, and its long trail of ash threatened to drop to the ground at any moment. He took one final drag from the short stub, blew out blue smoke rings, and dropped it on the snow, painting it yellow and black.
“The way I see the net is different from the way you see it. I can see exactly what has already been mended and what still needs mending.”
He became immersed in his work again. His fingers fluttered nimbly along the net. I felt a mixture of pity and compassion.
“When will you be finished with the nets?” I asked.
“At about two o’clock. Then I’ll eat the sandwiches I’ve brought in my lunch box. What’s your name?” he asked. “You haven’t introduced yourself. My name is Dragisa Petrović. You can call me Dragisa.”
“I’m Hanne. It’s short for Johann. My mother is a great admirer of Goethe.”
“So how come you’re Jewish? That’s a German name.”
“Right. My mother speaks German.”
“So you’re not really Jewish?”
“We’re a Jewish family, but we used to live in Belgrade because of Father’s job.”
“My family has lived in the same house in Kladovo for nine generations.”
“And what do they all do here?”
“As you can see,” he said, pointing at the fishing nets. “Most of them are fishermen. Some are farmers and raise cows and pigs next to the house.”
“And there’s enough for everyone to make a living?”
“Not really. The river is not what it used to be. There are fewer fish and too many fishermen. I don’t go out on the river with the boat anymore. I’m too old for that. So they pay me to mend nets.”
“And don’t you get bored mending nets all the time?” I asked.
“I learned to get over it,” he answered with a smile. “Do you know how to solve crossword puzzles?”
“Of course I do,” I answered. “Do you solve crossword puzzles?”
I never would have thought a simple man like him, who spent his days mending fishing nets, would know how to solve crossword puzzles.
“Not only do I solve them, I also invent them,” he said proudly.
“Can you give me an example?” I wanted to make sure he wasn’t simply making up stories about himself.
“Sure,” he answered, flashing a toothless smile. “A Jewish-Austrian author, five letters.”
“Well, that’s easy,” I said. “Stefan Zweig.”
“Easy indeed,” he answered and took the cigarette box from his pocket again, along with a bundle of papers. “German composer, five letters,” he fired at me.
“There’s lots,” I said and counted the ones that came into my mind. “Handel, Wagner, Bruch, which one did you mean?”
“Wait,” he said, picking up a page full of empty squares. He flicked the cigarette from between his fingers and took a pencil from his pocket. “Let’s write a list of words and then create questions for them.”
“That’s a great idea. We could memorize the words we’re studying like that. We’ll choose a subject. Geography or history, for example. We’ll put in words such as names of mountains, countries, major and lesser known cities: Drina, Danube, Yangtze, Yellow River, Seine, Rhine.”
He wrote the words into the empty squares with large letters, some vertically and others horizontally. Then we added the names of mountains, crossing the words.
And so we sat and created our first crossword puzzle, and I didn’t notice how time flew by. Only when I glanced at my watch and saw that it was almost two o’clock did I realize I needed to run back to the boat.
“I have to hurry back to the boat now,” I said. “Can I have the crossword puzzle?”
“Sure. It’s yours,” he answered.
“I’ll come again tomorrow, and we’ll make another one.”
“Sure. I’ll have coffee waiting for you.”
“I don’t drink coffee yet,” I told him.
“Then I’ll teach you.”
***
As expected, Mother was furious.
“Where have you been? I told Father we should go looking for you.”
“I’m not a child anymore, Mother. You don’t need to look for me. I met someone interesting. A toothless old man who mends fishing nets and knows everything about crossword puzzles. Where’s Pauli?”
“I haven’t seen him since this morning. He’s probably on the Kraljica Marija. He’s found some friends there.”
I knew that Inge was busy and went across the connecting bridge to the Kraljica Marija with the crossword puzzle in my pocket.
Pauli was sitting with a group of Viennese youths. They were singing “Capitan, Capitan” in Viennese German, accompanied by Fredl on the accordion. “Capitan, Ho, Capitan, Capitan the only one. He feared neither cannon nor gun.”
They invited me to join them, but I didn’t feel comfortable about it and went to look for Efraim. I found him with Jacob. They were playing checkers on an improvised cardboard board Jacob had drawn. The wooden pieces had been carved by Joseph the carpenter. After Jacob’s second victory, Efraim’s face reddened with anger, and I suggested they try to solve the puzzle I’d prepared with Petrović. At first, they refused and said that crossword puzzles were boring, but once I managed to convince them and saw how enthusiastically they competed, looking for the right word for each question, I realized the puzzle would be even more popular if I could create a competition.
After a while, Efraim had to leave, and Jacob took his father’s last letter out of his pocket.
“Do you remember I talked to you about whether or not I should tell my father? Just listen to what he wrote me.
Why didn’t you listen to my advice about saving money? If you’d have listened, you wouldn’t be in this miserable state, without a penny in your pocket. If you buy yourself alcohol, buy smaller bot
tles. Don’t buy the most expensive ones. Who on earth would come up with such a stupid idea? Of course you need to keep warm with a little drink during the winter. But not when the weather is warm. I’m told that you keep buying things without thinking twice about the cost. I’m very disappointed in you. You’ve bought so many things—you need suitcases and backpacks to store them in. Why don’t you consult with Reiss’s brother? How many times have I told you to do that? And most importantly: when you need money, write to me and not to Uncle Max. This is simply unbelievable. How do your friends manage? Many of them probably have nothing…
I calmed him down and said it’s good that he’d told the truth about asking for money from Uncle Max. Then he got upset with me as well. “You don’t get it. Uncle Max told on me. That’s much worse!”
***
When evening fell, I went to look for Inge in the floating isolation ward. She didn’t have much work left to do there, as most of the patients had already been discharged and had returned to the boat.
“We finally got rid of that disease. Just know that Dr. Bezalel deserves a lot of credit for insisting on maintaining hygiene.”
“You deserve a lot of credit too.”
“You don’t know how hard he worked—he kept running around the boat, reminding all the passengers to wash their hands with soap, and making sure there was enough soap at all the sinks.”
I told her about Petrović, the old man on shore, and how he hadn’t believed I was Jewish with a name like Hanne.
“I also have a German name. But everyone always knows I’m Jewish. Perhaps because of the way I dress…the skirt and all the rest. And I also light Shabbat candles and try to observe all the religious commandments.”
“I’m not so sure it’s all that important to observe all the religious commandments.”