“Meta!” a woman screamed, running toward us. She grabbed my arm. “Please, have you seen my Meta? She’s only five years old.”
A lady with a blue bundle drifted by, crying. “His wet diaper’s frozen solid. Should I tug it? Will it tear his skin off?”
People screamed out for food and lost family members.
“My God, look what this war has done,” said Eva.
The wandering boy clung to the leg of the shoe poet. Even the German seemed startled.
Poet looked around. “There are so many, it could take days to secure passage. We must stay together. Let’s agree that if we get separated, we shall meet under the large clock on that building.” He motioned to the distant clock with his walking stick.
Eva stopped a shawled woman pushing a baby buggy through the snow. “What are the reports? What do you know?” she said.
“What do I know? They say Hitler’s in a bunker in Berlin.” The woman’s voice was deep, husky like a man’s. “And we’re here. Where are the bunkers for us?” She looked up at Eva. “Boy, you’re a big one, huh?”
Eva’s face clouded.
“Excuse me, is there any organized lodging?” I asked.
“Organized?” The woman laughed. “Take a look around. Nothing’s organized. It’s bedlam, stupid girl. Grab space where you can and fight for a boarding pass like the rest of us.”
The group moved closer to me. The wandering boy approached the baby carriage. His eyes widened.
“And how is your child faring?” I asked, peeking into the buggy. Tucked into the buggy was not a child. It was a goat.
“Don’t judge me,” said the woman, stepping in front of the buggy. “If I don’t take it, someone else will. I’ve got kids who are hungry.”
“I’m not judging. We’re all hungry.”
“Well, this goat’s mine. Find your own.” She then looked us over and motioned me closer. “I’m told the roof of the old movie house doesn’t have holes. Might be warmer there.”
“Thank you,” I said.
She stood, waiting. “I could have sold that information,” she told me. She snorted and shoved off, thrusting the buggy across broken stones and ice. The sound of a bleating goat echoed behind her. We stood silent in a circle, staring at one another.
Eva finally spoke. “I’m sorry, but that was the ugliest baby I’ve ever seen.”
“And for heaven’s sake, Joana, find your own goat,” Poet chimed.
“Movie house has no holes,” said the wandering boy, imitating the deep tone.
And then, from behind the group came his voice: “Careful, Klaus, you could sell that information,” said the German.
I tried not to, but I couldn’t help it. I laughed. The wandering boy started to giggle. Eva burst out laughing. And then the most amazing thing happened. The German smiled and laughed. Hard.
“Let’s find the movie house,” said Eva once we had regained our composure. We walked away from the harbor and the enormous ships. Would we be able to secure passage on one tomorrow? If so, which ship would ferry us to freedom?
Snow fell as we walked, piling atop our heads and shoulders. The German grabbed my hand and pulled me toward him.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “About Ingrid.”
I looked down. Before I could respond, he dropped my hand and walked away.
emilia
He was beautiful.
The knight was beautiful, handsome when he smiled.
He didn’t want anyone to see it.
He didn’t want to acknowledge it himself.
But for a brief moment, I saw him. The real man inside of him, not the one tortured by secrets and pain.
And he was beautiful.
I wanted August to meet him. They were so alike. Quietly strong.
I wished Mama could meet August. She would seat him at our dining room table and serve him thick cuts of bread with sticky marmalade. The belly of the teapot would be warm, full of raspberry tea. Red poppies in the center of the table would give a friendly wave from their glass jar. Mama would remove her apron before sitting down next to August. Then she’d reach across, put her hand on top of his, and tell him—Tak si? ciesz?, ?e tu jeste?. I am so glad you are here.
Joana still had her mother. Reuniting with her mother was her motivation. She would slay dragons to get to her. Mother was anchor. Mother was comfort. Mother was home. A girl who lost her mother was suddenly a tiny boat on an angry ocean. Some boats eventually floated ashore. And some boats, like me, seemed to float farther and farther from land.
I forced my mind toward happy thoughts—August, warmth, storks, home—anything to distract myself from the swelling pressure inside me. I walked with the others in search of the movie house. With each step, the truth drew closer.
I could not make it much longer.
florian
The military presence in the harbor was even heavier than I expected. That meant the Red Army was close. For once I was grateful to be within the group. I kept my head down and walked with them surrounding me. The scenes were agonizing.