The Librarian Spy(93)



She waited in the line with Sarah and Noah long enough that their stomachs began to growl. It was around then that children strolled the length of the line, small sacks at their side, selling something called bolas. The Hungarian treats were sugar-crusted pastries with dough that was pillowy and sweet and had a creamy custard center. They were immediately popular once the refugees started selling them upon their arrival in Portugal and soon found their way into local cafés.

With strict rules in place to keep refugees from working in Portugal, there were few ways to bring in money. Suddenly the men who once supported their families had to sit back and allow the women to earn a living through tasks like cooking, laundry, and sewing.

Ava purchased four of the pastries. One for herself and Sarah, and two for Noah, whose stomach proved bottomless. In just the two months they had been in Lisbon, his cheeks had filled out with a healthy glow, and he’d shot up at least an inch.

The line condensed into a squeeze of people as they neared the entrance to the building, as if the sense of urgency for those few select tickets increased. For every person who emerged from the ticket office with a look of relief relaxing their features, it was one less spot open to another refugee who waited.

Sarah pulled her purse in front of her and secured it to her chest with the clamp of her arm. “What if they turn us away?”

“They will not,” Ava said with conviction.

Truly, there was no reason they should. Ava could translate from French for them, Sarah and Noah were dressed in their cleanest, newest clothes that Ava had procured for them. And their visas would expire soon.

The latter point of fact ground away at Ava every day. The ship’s passage should have been easier to obtain. After all, the JDC had provided the $375 needed for both Sarah and Noah, an exorbitant cost, generously offered by the JDC through Ethan for all the times Ava continued to assist on her days off. Not that she volunteered to curry favors, which Ethan knew, and she could not decline his offer to help Sarah and Noah. Certainly, the steep fares for passage on those ships was far more than Ava could afford to pay on her own.

That small fortune was in Sarah’s guarded purse with those precious visas.

At last, they entered the building, and the heat of the sun overhead was replaced by the shade of a ceiling. While stuffy inside, at least they were freed of the merciless glare that left the tops of their heads burning like fire.

A large American flag hung on the wall inside, the small space crowded with people though only six reception areas were available for applicants to fill out yet another lengthy form. Sarah gave Ava the wallet containing the visas and bundle of American dollars for the passage, then pulled Noah into her arms.

He squirmed. “I want to play, Maman.”

“You stay close,” she cautioned as she set him down by her side. “And do not make any trouble.”

Ava understood her concern. Clerks could deny passage for any reason, whether legitimate or personal. All applicants were at their mercy. A wandering child could spell disaster for Sarah and Noah, even with Ava there to help.

When the next reception area was vacated, Ava approached the desk where a woman with wiry gray hair stared tiredly at her. Damp perspiration rings darkened the armpits of her red shirt.

“I’d like two tickets to New York, departing within the next week to ensure their visas don’t expire.” Ava laid out the visas for the woman to inspect.

“You’ll need to fill out the application.” The woman shoved two forms toward Ava, who had learned to develop an unnatural patience with such things in the last few months. One would never suspect paper was on ration with how many applications, affidavits, and forms one was required to submit.

Were the process for herself, Ava suspected her tolerance would be short-lived. However, in light of what Sarah and Noah had gone through, a cramped hand was scarcely nothing of note by which to complain.

As she carefully filled out the details, she glanced about, half expecting Lukas to show once more.

Sarah remained still as a soldier beside her with Noah’s back obediently locked against his mother’s leg. The little toy boat was held aloft in his hand, rolling through an invisible sea, his lips pursed as he mimicked the splash of waves in a barely audible whisper.

The clerk accepted the form and skimmed over Ava’s careful print. The woman’s mouth thinned. Seconds ticked by, scraping over Ava’s nerves.

The clerk slid her gaze to Sarah with little Noah standing at her side, still holding his toy ship. He paused in waving it through the air and smiled at her in the sweet, pure way only a child can.

She huffed out a sigh. “I have exactly two spots available for this Wednesday on the USS Siboney.”

That was in two days.

“We’ll take them,” Ava said, placing the money on the counter.

Minutes later, they left the travel office, precious tickets in place of the money secured in a pocket in Sarah’s purse. After a celebratory treat of ice cream at one of the cafés near their apartment, Ava walked them to their door.

“Will you come up?” Sarah asked as she often did when they enjoyed lunch together.

“I’d love to.” Ava followed her up a flight of stairs to the apartment that had become as familiar to Ava as her own.

“Let me settle this little one down for his nap,” Sarah said. “Make yourself comfortable.”

“But I’m not tired,” Noah whined even as he rubbed an eye with a tight fist.

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