Long Way Home(15)
“Let’s explore the ship, Ruthie,” I said as soon as we’d returned from breakfast. “Want to?”
She shook her head and slumped down on her bed. My sister was a thin, wispy eleven-year-old with Mutti’s raven hair and Vati’s sad, dark eyes. She had lived under Hitler’s cruel shadow for as long as she could remember, and it had transformed her into a skittish, fearful child.
“We’ll get lost,” she replied. I suspected that she’d been frightened by all the reminders of our Nazi tormenters, like the swastika flags and the portrait of Hitler in the social hall where we’d just eaten. We’d been confined to our apartment for the past six months, barely venturing out after our Jewish school burned down. But even before Kristallnacht, we’d gradually been denied all the pleasures we’d once enjoyed, like attending a concert or walking in the park or visiting the Berlin Zoo, simply because we were Jewish. The luxurious St. Louis seemed like an alien world to all of us.
“Fine, I’ll go by myself,” I replied. I opened the door to leave, and there was Vati hovering in the shadows again. I started to say his name, but he held a finger to his lips, warning me to be quiet. We slipped inside our stateroom together. I had been so overjoyed to see my father last night that I hadn’t taken a good look at him in the dimly lit cabin. But today, with sunlight streaming through the porthole, it was clear how much he had suffered in prison. His skin was a sickly gray, and he sat down shakily after we all hugged him.
“Are you ill, Daniel?” Mutti asked. She pressed her palm to his forehead.
“I was ill in the camp,” he replied. “Dysentery, I believe. But I haven’t had a fever for a week now. Just a lingering cough.” I stayed to visit for a while before growing restless again. Neither Ruthie nor Mutti was going to let my father out of her sight anytime soon, and I still wanted to explore the ship.
“I’m going off by myself, then,” I told everyone. “I’ll be back in time for lunch.”
My excitement grew as I wandered through the narrow corridors, running my hands along the metal railings that we would need if the seas grew rough. The passageways were pristine and clean and smelled of fresh enamel paint. I climbed a set of steep metal stairs, following the sound of distant laughter and voices, and reached the sports deck, where a game of shuffleboard was in progress and squealing children played tag. The sky was the glorious blue of a sapphire, and I tasted salt on my lips. I made my way to the ship’s rail, holding my jacket closed against the wind, the breeze snarling my hair. I felt so alive and free that I thought I might never go back to my stateroom.
“Gisela!” I turned at the sound of my name and saw Sam Shapiro walking toward me, holding his kippah on his head so it wouldn’t blow away. I was amazed that he’d remembered my name. “Hello again,” he said with a little bow. “How did you enjoy your first night on the St. Louis?”
“I slept better than I have in months,” I replied. I raked my blowing hair from my eyes, wishing I had put on a nicer dress and taken more time with my hair. “How about you?”
“I enjoyed it very much. And after that wonderful breakfast, I’m off to explore the ship. Would you like to come with me? Or maybe you are waiting for someone?”
“I’m on my own. And I had the same idea. I would love to go exploring with you, Sam. Where shall we start?”
“I thought I’d go up to the very top deck and work my way down.” Sam had a natural instinct for finding his way, and we wandered all over the St. Louis that morning, talking about our families and getting to know each other. He was eighteen, two years older than me, and had grown up in Frankfurt. “My father escaped a year ago and is waiting for us in Cuba,” Sam explained. “My grandmother was very ill at the time and my mother wouldn’t leave her behind. I’ve been responsible for Mutti and my two younger brothers ever since. Oma died last month, and now we’re finally on our way to join my father.”
“I know what you mean about being responsible. My father was arrested on Kristallnacht and my mother fell to pieces. It’s been up to me all these months to keep her and my sister going and to get us all out of Germany.”
“I’m sorry to hear about your father. Mine barely escaped arrest.”
We had been walking and talking and exploring for more than an hour by then, and I already liked and trusted Sam Shapiro. I told him the truth about how Vati suddenly had been released from Buchenwald and that he was aboard this ship. “So maybe there will be a happy ending for all of us in Cuba,” Sam said. We reached the stern, and I stared down at the ship’s wake, churning far below us.
“I can’t imagine a happy ending yet,” I replied. “Not until our quota number is called and we can immigrate to the United States.”
“It’s the same with my family. But for now, it’s wonderful to be able to stop worrying for a while and to get away from my brothers for an hour and to spend time with a pretty girl.”
I was flattered but suddenly shy. My experience with boys had been very limited, and I didn’t know how to respond to his compliment. I decided to change the subject by asking a flood of questions. “What will Havana be like, do you think? What will you do there? Will you miss Germany?” We walked and talked until lunchtime and still hadn’t finished exploring the ship, but Sam needed to get back to his family. Since my father wasn’t allowed to eat with us in first class, Sam and I conspired to sit at the same table for dinner that evening so our mothers and siblings could meet.