The Word Cloud

Encounter 3

Sebastian’s senses were heightened. After six days flight across Europe (hiding out, eating not often, not well) he had begun to see and hear everything in a dreamlike rush. Walking in a haze past the station buildings he simultaneously noticed the twitch of the curtain, the approach of a young woman (who refused to look at him), the piece of paper that fell from her hand to the ground at his feet.

He bent to retrieve the paper, fought off a brief attack of giddiness, and put it in his coat pocket, unread. Just past the buildings was a low picket fence. He could not see a gate. He turned quickly. The woman was a distance away. The window was now out of sight. He lifted a leg and was over the fence and down a small embankment in a matter of seconds.

With just enough light to read, he scanned the paper and grunted. More hours to wait in this place. (Where was he?) Close to the embankment stood a low building without windows, its door propped open by a small pile of frozen snow. Cautiously he pulled the door a little wider and peered inside. He could just make out heaps of coal, a couple of shovels and some sacking. He should be safe here. He lay down and pulled some sacks over himself.

He both heard and felt the arrival of the train, its prompt departure. Sleep was impossible in the cold but he tried to rest. His mind rebelled and kept circling back over recent events. It seemed a lifetime ago (yet as vivid as if he was back there again) that a neighbour had intercepted him on the way home from work.

“Your parents.” The woman’s eyes had darted everywhere as if the trees and pavements could overhear. “They were arrested this morning. Police came to the house, and they were put onto a truck. One suitcase each.”

Sebastian knew what this meant. He didn't have time to reflect on it however. The woman had grabbed his arm and said urgently, “Come. You must leave. I know someone.. Come with me.” She’d shaken him gently, pulling him away from the street where they lived.

He became a human parcel. Individuals - whole networks - appeared out of nowhere, passed him along, and faded back into the darkness. He went North. He went South. But always, further and further West. Until he had ended up in this remote corner of France, cold, tired, hungry. And still running.

A sound outside made him stiffen. He lay perfectly still. A snuffling noise alerted him to the presence of a dog outside the door. He prayed it would not come in and find him. Start barking. Alert the authorities. After a while all was quiet and he crawled to the door opening and peered out. A few metres away, staring at him, was a German Shepherd. He watched as it took a step back, lifted its head and bared its teeth. Another moment and it would bark. Desperate, he raised a finger to his lips and quietly sshhh’ed. To his astonishment, the dog lowered its head, turned around and trotted away. He crawled back into the shed and covered himself again.

Alone again, he wondered where Jakob and Hannah were now. A camp somewhere, that was all he was certain of. For the thousandth time he wondered the precise reason why they had been arrested. For being Jewish? Or for being Communists? Either was enough to condemn them - Sebastian too, who had been brought up in the Party. Their atheism would not help them now, as it would not help him; he had never been inside a synagogue in his life, never been circumcised, didn't know what was in the Torah. It made no difference. An atheist Jew on the run was still a Jew.

Fatigue finally overcame him and he slept. He dreamed that he was back in Wien, walking with Ilse in Rathauspark. They strolled hand in hand, laughing like children and throwing sticks for dogs to chase. When the cold woke him, Sebastian felt empty and dark and cursed the kind of dream from which he had no wish to wake.

When he awoke a second time, he was so hungry he knew he couldn't make the later rendezvous if he was too weak even to stand. He crawled from the coal-hole, and clambered up what by now seemed a steep and precarious embankment. There was smoke coming from the station’s chimney. He found strength from somewhere to climb over the picket fence again and crept towards what he took to be an office. Outside its door he stood in anguish for several minutes, uncertain whether to make his move. Hunger and cold made up his mind.

He opened the door cautiously. A wave of humid warmth washed over him. By the light of a single light bulb he saw a short stout middle-aged man in a uniform and gold-rimmed glasses bent over some papers spread out on a desk. The man looked up and stared at Sebastian.

* * * * *

Délouge saw hollow cheeks, a six-day beard, intense eyes. He also saw fear. He said nothing but his hand strayed towards the desk drawer where he kept a small service revolver. The man spoke.

“Pardon me, sir”, he said in poor French. “Do you know where I can get something to eat?”

Délouge’s hand lingered on the drawer handle, then came up slowly to rest on the desktop. He instinctively looked at the clock, but it wasn't necessary - he knew exactly when the next stopping train was due. He still said nothing, but he was thinking. He remembered the woman. He did not know her, didn't remember seeing her before, but he was sure that he knew what she was. He glanced at the clock again, looked back at the man, and came to a decision. He moved to the door and ushered the other out into the cold daylight. He locked the door behind him.

There was a new light in his eyes.

“Follow me”, he said.