The World That We Knew(44)

“Look,” Madame Lévi said, grabbing her husband’s arm. “Isn’t that Edgar?”

It was indeed their gardener, only now he’d been hired as a guard at the stadium, steering people through the crowded entryway gate. The Lévis went to him, navigating through the crush of people. After all, Edgar had worked for them for more than ten years and had always been so punctual and polite before they could no longer afford him. The professor’s wife had already lost her scarf in the chaos and she was light-headed, for she hadn’t had a sip of water since early morning. There were older people doing their best to sit in the shade, yet some of them were seriously ill. People were evacuating right out in the open, for there were no toilets, and already there was a terrible stink. Madame Lévi lowered her gaze, feeling a chill. She had been right to panic this morning.

When they reached the gardener, the professor tapped his shoulder, so surprising Edgar that he turned to his employer with his stick in hand as if to strike him.

“Oh, Monsieur,” he said when he recognized the professor. “I didn’t know it was you.”

The professor leaned toward the younger man. He sounded desperate, even to himself. “We’re here by mistake.” Soon enough there would be mass arrests of French Jews but for now the professor still had hope. “Can you let us out?”

Edgar looked around. He took in the sheer number of the police, let alone men such as himself who had been brought here as forced labor on a daily basis to contain the crowds. He shook his head. “Three people? It would be too noticeable. They’d have my head. I have to do what I’m hired to do, you understand.”

“Then my son,” the professor urged. “Just him.”

Claire linked her arm through her husband’s. “Yes. Take Julien.”

Edgar felt uncomfortable just talking to these people. They looked different to him, almost unrecognizable.

“He’s no problem,” the professor went on. “No one will notice one boy. And he’s a fast runner. Look at the guards. They’re not paying attention.”

The gardener glimpsed a group of men who had been picked up by the German army to work here in the stifling heat. They were lounging by the gate, chatting with each other as the crowds of those arrested poured through.

Professor Lévi reached for his watch from his pocket, the gold one his father had given him. They would take it from him anyway. Better to get something in return.

“Here. It’s yours,” he told Edgar. They exchanged a look and the deal was done. He signaled for Julien to approach.

Julien came forward. He nodded to the gardener, already mistrusting him, before turning to his father. “What’s going on?”

His father embraced him and his mother did likewise, then they hurriedly walked away.

“What are you doing?” Julien called after them. “You’re not supposed to be here.”

But life now depended upon luck, not reason. The sun was so bright Julien lifted a hand to shade his eyes. His parents seemed to have disappeared, swallowed up, lost in the light and the masses of people. It made no sense. His mother would not turn from him in such a way. Julien made a move to go after his parents, but Edgar stopped him.

“Walk backward, as if you were coming into the stadium rather than leaving. I will open the gate and you can lose yourself in the crush of people, only you will be walking away. Don’t come back. These people are all being shipped off.”

Julien stood there stunned. By now he was unable to see his parents in the chaos of the stadium. Or was that his father’s jacket, the one he had worn to teach his classes?

“Go!” Edgar told him. “You don’t have forever!”

Julien’s head was ringing. He couldn’t hear a word anyone said, least of all Edgar. But then he saw his grandfather’s gold watch on the gardener’s wrist and understood. His father had bought his freedom, and he knew then, although it broke his heart to do so, he wasn’t going to throw it away.

He walked backward through the crush of people that was being pushed past him. Once he was at the edge of the crowd, he turned and ran, spiraling through the maze of city streets, tearing the buttons from his shirt to leave behind on street corners so he would be able to find his way back if necessary. By then it was dusk, the end of the first day of the roundup. He had to fight the urge to go home and seek out his familiar life; instead he went to a tunnel near the river, where he sat shivering, though it was a hot night.

He returned to the stadium in the morning, following the path he had taken, still hopeful that he could find his parents and get them out as well. It was the seventeenth and the raid was in its second day; twice as many people were now trapped inside. There was a full-fledged hysteria as people realized they had walked into a trap. This was not temporary, Paris was no longer their city, and there was no way out. German soldiers now patrolled the gates. Julien watched through the fence and saw things he never imagined he would see. There was still no food or water and some people had already died. There was no choice but to step over them, or to pile them up in the shade. He thought he saw his father among the jostling crowd, no longer wearing his jacket or his hat. He called out his name. The professor may have looked up, but if he saw his son, he acted as if he heard nothing at all. He disappeared into the crowd to ensure that Julien wouldn’t call out for him again.