The Things We Cannot Say(125)

“I’m fine, Saul. Lost my dinner but no problem keeping water down,” I told him, but then I asked a little impatiently, “How was the meeting with the judge?”

“He is very interested in taking the information I gave him back to his government, but he said they seem determined to turn a blind eye. He’s hopeful Henry’s photographs will prove useful but...there have been other photos, other information from within Poland has found its way out, and they have been reluctant to act even with evidence...” He trailed off, then sat on the edge of the bed and started to rub his temples.

“Are we in trouble?” I asked him, my voice a bare whisper.

“No.”

“Saul,” I said, and then I sat up and rested my hand against his forearm. “Something is obviously wrong. Was he upset that we lied about our names?”

“Actually...” Saul hesitated, then he swallowed. He exhaled and looked at me almost pleadingly. “Alina, I didn’t tell him.”

I looked to him in shock—then searched his gaze, bewildered.

“But...”

“He said he’s arranged visas for us,” Saul blurted. “To America.”

“America?” I repeated incredulously. I sank back into the pillows and felt the room spin a little. America.

“It’s nearly impossible for Poles to get into America now, Alina—even for Judge Adamcwiz this was very difficult to organize. Their government is afraid the Nazis are sending spies disguised as refugees so they have all but shut the doors. Please understand—I just panicked when he said we already had passage. And Henry’s wife, Sally, has said she will let us live in her home until we find our feet. But the judge said it’s up to us—we can quite easily stay here, and there are people here who will help us too. But...America, Alina. Your baby could be an American—imagine the opportunities! And it is a world away from all this mess.” I nodded, but couldn’t bring myself to speak—instead, I stared down at my lap. Saul squeezed my shoulder. “We don’t have to decide right now. But the visas are not for Saul Weiss and Alina Dziak. They are for Tomasz and Hanna Slaski, so...”

He trailed off, and I looked up at him.

“You don’t even want to go to America,” I protested weakly. “You wanted to go back to the camp, right? To serve with the Polish army?”

He nodded, then he paused, and when he turned to me, his gaze was intensely serious.

“But...what I want does not matter in this moment, Alina. I am not proposing to do this for myself. I made you a promise,” Saul said. “I told you that until Tomasz returned, I’d care for you and your baby as if you were my own. And there is no doubt in my mind that this is exactly what he would have wanted for you both.”

“But how will he ever find me?” I asked weakly.

“Do you really think a little thing like distance would stop him from coming for you? He walked across Poland for you once before. Finding his way to a boat to cross the Atlantic will be easy after that.”

Less than a month after we left the camp at Buzuluk, Saul and I stood with Frederick Adamcwiz on the deck of the biggest boat I’d ever seen, staring in wide-eyed wonder as Ellis Island loomed before us. I was dazzled and awed and, frankly, terrified.

All I knew about this country were the things that Tomasz had told me, and even at the time, I had hardly believed him. Now, Sally Adamcwiz would travel to pick us up, and we would make our home in a tropical place that had barely any winter, a house so close to the beach that we could walk there. I was excited about the possibilities of this new life, and so hopeful—because I knew that Tomasz would find me there, and until then, I had my dear friend Saul by my side. I glanced at Saul then, to find he was staring down into the water in silence.

“Are there Jews here?” I blurted. Frederick gave me a patient gentle smile.

“Oh yes, Hanna. There are many Jews in America.”

“And it’s safe for them here?” I asked him hesitantly.

“Well, we have some problems...” Frederick admitted. “Especially here in New York, where I live. There have been some issues in recent years with gangs of youths harassing our Jewish people—a few incidents of businesses being vandalized, a cemetery desecrated... But, of course, nothing like what you saw in your homeland. America is a peaceful place, I assure you.”

I watched Saul as Frederick spoke. I watched as the blood drained from my friend’s face. I watched as his hands against the rail began to shake until he clutched it tightly in his fist to hide the tremble. I watched when he closed his eyes on what I knew was an intense wave of déjà vu.

His calm wisdom had impressed me until that moment, but I had just discovered that Frederick Adamcwiz was incredibly naive. I knew with absolute certainty that small problems in a country can become immense tragedies when left unchecked. It started small in Germany. It even started small in Poland, long before the occupation. It started with a small group of people harassing and vandalizing and desecrating, and it ended with trainloads of my countrymen shipped to furnaces and dumped into a river.

I reached for Saul’s hand then, and I squeezed it hard. As soon as Frederick left us to go pack up his luggage, I turned to Saul and I shook my head fiercely.

“You have had your lifetime’s share of persecution and suffering, Saul Weiss. Until we are absolutely sure this is a safe place for you, we need to keep your secret.”