Long Way Home(104)
“Is that realistic? I thought the British government is restricting immigration.”
“They are.” I watched as more and more people joined the lively dance, laughing as they moved to the music. Nothing in me felt like dancing. “Sam used to attend Zionist meetings in Antwerp and he talked about moving to Palestine. He wanted his brothers to go there as students, to escape, but his mother wouldn’t let them. We close the Passover celebration every year by saying, ‘Next year in Jerusalem,’ but it’s still a distant dream.”
“It’s interesting that Sam chose to join the Jewish Brigade instead of a regular British Army unit. Maybe he hoped that if he served in the British Army, they would let him immigrate there afterwards.”
“He once asked me if I would move to Palestine with him after the war.”
“Would you?”
“Back then, I think I promised to move to the ends of the earth with him as long as we were together. I would never have the courage to go to Palestine now, by myself. I’m not sure it’s something Ruthie would agree to, either.” I looked around to see where Ruthie was and saw her standing with the other girls next to the band. She had her back to me so I couldn’t see her face. “Jim, I’m determined to find a home for Ruthie, but it seems like things are moving so slowly. There are millions of displaced people like us in camps all over Europe. It’s going to take forever to find everyone a place to live and a new job and housing. They’re saying we could be living here for years.”
“If you had a choice, where would you go?”
“I don’t know. Someplace that doesn’t remind me every day of the people we’ve loved and lost. Someplace where I’m not haunted by memories of pogroms. I’m still waiting for the Jewish agency to track down Uncle Hermann in Ecuador or Uncle Aaron in Cuba. We lost contact with them during the war. I suppose we could live with one of them if we find them. And if they’re willing to have us.”
“Have you asked Ruthie where she would like to live if she had a choice?”
“No. She probably doesn’t know where ‘home’ is any more than I do.” I shivered as a cool breeze blew down from the mountains, rustling the branches of the sukkah. The flimsy structure offered scant shelter. “I know it’s selfish of me to make Ruthie wait here with me until I hear about Sam. I need to lay aside my sorrow for her sake. She deserves a new beginning. She gave up a secure life in Belgium to be with me.”
“I’ll do whatever I can to help you get settled in the place you and Ruthie choose. Just let me know where that is.”
“Thanks, Jim. You’re a good friend.”
I couldn’t stop thinking about Jim’s question. Where would I choose to live? Where would Ruthie? As my sister and I got ready for bed later that night, I decided to ask her. “If you had a choice, Ruthie, where would you settle down when we finally leave this camp?”
“I don’t know.”
The festivities hadn’t lifted her spirits any more than they had mine, and I felt bad about that. I didn’t want my gloom to weigh her down. “I was offered a job in the hospital in Belgium where I used to work,” I told her. “Maybe we could find a place to live in Antwerp, in a community with other Jews. Would you want to return there if we were together?”
“I have a lot of bad memories from Belgium. First the pogrom, then Vati getting sick, then the bombs in Mortsel.” She didn’t add the years she’d spent alone in the orphanage or the rejection she’d experienced in the last few months, but I wondered if she was remembering them, too. “Living there wouldn’t be the same without Vati and Mutti,” she finished. “But I’ll go there if you want to.”
“No, I feel the same way you do.”
She climbed into her bed, which was now next to mine, and I couldn’t see her expression in the dim light. She was quiet as if giving my question more thought. “The only place where we could really start over again is in America,” she finally said. “We could put all of the sad memories behind us there.”
“I think you may be right.” Even though America seemed very far away and a daunting destination to try to reach. “If you’re sure, Ruthie, I will move heaven and earth to get us there.”
“Yes,” she said after another long moment. “I’m sure. It’s where Mutti and Vati wanted us to live.”
“Good. I’ll ask Jim to help us find out about our visas and if we’re still on the waiting list. But just so you know, they’re telling everyone that it could take as much as three years to immigrate to America. Can you stand living here for that long?”
“I guess so.”
But I already knew that even one year in this place was too long. We weren’t exactly prisoners, but it often felt like it. I worried that my sister was already starting to die inside. It happened when you lost hope. I wrote to Jim the next day, telling him what Ruthie had decided and asking for his help. Two weeks later, he returned to the DP camp with bad news.
“You and Ruthie will need to apply for immigration all over again because you no longer have your father as your means of support in the United States. I also checked to see if your nursing degree could be transferred, and it can’t. You would need a degree from an American nursing school in order to work.” Jim could tell that I took this news hard.