Mother and Me (11 page)

When Miss Bronia and I came out of the trees, Auntie Edna was leaning with her back against the truck and her fingers against her forehead. The other two mothers had their backs to us and were saying something to her. Fredek was just disappearing inside the truck.

The road was full of people, as before, with wagons and people on foot, all moving at the same rate, and in the same direction as we were pointed. In the distance there was the now-familiar pop-popping of guns or bombs or both. A man in suit pants and an undershirt passed by at a brisk walk holding a suitcase on his head. I couldn't help laughing. He looked
at me reprovingly as he hurried by. I saw Mr. Dembovski, our driver, checking something on one of the rear tires of the truck. He had a cigarette between his lips. I wondered what had become of the major and his wife.

Suddenly, I saw Mr. Dembovski jump onto the running board of our truck. In an instant he had opened the door and was inside the cab. The truck rocked slightly, and then Mr. Dembovski backed out again. He was pulling someone with him. He had the man by the coat lapels, and he dragged him out onto the dirt and almost into the drainage ditch. Had the man been trying to steal our truck?

Lying on the ground now with Mr. Dembovski kneeling over him, the man held his hands up in surrender. He was breathing hard and I thought he looked very frightened. Mr. Dembovski got to his feet shaking his head. The other man didn't try to get up. He had on a gray tweed suit with knickerbockers and high socks, a common fashion at that time. He had a longish face and straight dark hair parted on one side and pomaded in place. Now some of it hung over one eye, not unlike the pictures we had seen of Adolph Hitler, except for the little mustache. I saw that he was talking quickly. Our driver said something and jerked his head to one side in a gesture clearly directing him to leave. The man got to his feet, pulled a cap of the same gray tweed from an inside jacket pocket, placed it on his head with both hands, and proceeded to brush off his knickered trousers. He said something more to the driver, who made the same head-jerking gesture as before. The man said something again, and I saw our driver make a fist and shake it at the man.

“What is it, Dembovski?” I heard my mother's voice behind me. She and Auntie Edna were standing by the back of the truck. I saw Fredek and Sonya standing together and laughing.

The man in the knickerbocker suit turned his head towards my mother. He whipped the cap from his head and quickly walked towards her. “My name is Herman Lupicki, Missus,
and I am the second assistant manager in the Shoe Store of Goldfarb,” he said. “I thought your truck had been abandoned. I simply desire transportation with you, esteemed ladies, because my home, as well as the store have been bombed.” He spoke quickly, without pause, as though afraid of providing an opportunity for a negative response. “I have no money to pay for such transportation, but I can provide additional protection, since there are unscrupulous people who are forcing their way into vehicles along the way.”

“Who is this man?” Auntie Paula asked. She and Miss Bronia had just come up.

The man turned to face them. “My name is Herman Lupicki, Missus, and I am the second assistant manager of the Shoe Store of Goldfarb,” he repeated. “I desire transportation with you in your vehicle. I will sit up front with your driver and provide added protection against ruffians who are right now forcing their way into slow-moving vehicles and taking them over.”

“I was sitting up front,” Auntie Paula said.

Mr. Dembovski, I saw, was standing by the front of the truck, lighting another cigarette and keeping a watchful eye on this Mr. Lupicki.

“It is really dangerous for fine ladies like yourselves, and with small children, to be traveling in such a truck with just one man to protect you,” Mr. Lupicki went on. “They see just one man, and they try to take advantage. I, myself, thought your truck had been abandoned.” The women were surrounding him now, and, crushing his cap in both hands in front of his chest, he turned from one to the other as he spoke.

“We had another man with us,” Mother explained, “an army major even, but he was under orders to report to Lublin.”

The man waited patiently while Mother spoke, but went on again as soon as she had finished. “Just my presence in the front seat, Missus, will be a deterrent. I am also skilled at driving an automobile. I can assist your driver, and in the event of a burst tire I can be of quite valuable help as well.”

“Where is it that you want to go?” Auntie Paula asked him.

“Esteemed lady, I want to go where everyone is going, far enough from the city to be out of the way of the bombing. They are bombing the cities, you know, to make people leave and fill up the roads so the army can't travel. They bomb and strafe us along the way to keep us moving. Your truck can't move any faster than people on foot right now, which, of course, is exactly the goal the Germans want to achieve. But when you get further from the city, you will be able to roll faster, and you can eventually get to where you are going. And you, esteemed ladies, can drop me anywhere along the way that you wish or, if you desire it, I shall stay with you to your final destination. As I said, I have no specific destination of my own.”

“If he sits up front with Dembovski…” Mother said. “He's right. People will see him through the window sitting there. And having a second man along can always help.”

“How do we know we can trust him?” Auntie Paula asked.

“Esteemed lady, I am the second assistant manager of the Shoe Store of Goldfarb. I am accustomed to serving the feet of fine gentlemen and ladies. I assure you of my total benignity.”

“I think it will be all right,” Mother said.

“I no longer own anything except what I carry about my person,” he quickly added. “I had a suitcase, but I had to drop it when the German Stukas came and we ran for the woods. And when it was over, my suitcase was gone.”

“All right,” Mother said. “Go sit up front with Dembovski.”

“Basia, you shouldn't have done that,” Auntie Paula said when the man had gone. “I don't trust him—he doesn't look right to me.”

“Eh, it's wartime,” Auntie Edna said, with a wave of her hand. “Nobody looks right.”

“Well, it's done,” Mother said. “So shouldn't we be on our way again?” We climbed back into the truck.

“We need to talk about how we make decisions,” Auntie Paula said when we were moving again.

“Not in front of the children,” Auntie Edna said.

“It won't hurt the children to hear this,” Auntie Paula said. “We are three adult women, mothers, each with a child to take care of, and there is a war going on. None of us knows what's going to happen next or what's the best thing to do about it.”

“Yes, but please not in front of the children, Paula.”

“It'll do them good to hear this. It's a lesson about life.”

“What Paula is trying to say,” my mother said, “is that she wants to be the one to make the decisions.”

“Please, Basia,” Auntie Edna said, “we'll talk about all this later.”

“I heard you complaining about how Mrs. Solecki was giving all the orders,” my mother went on, ignoring Auntie Edna. “Mrs. Solecki is the wife of a major and she's lived through one war already. But Paula couldn't stand Mrs. Solecki giving directions.”

Even though Auntie Edna didn't want us to hear what they were saying, I understood that this was a grownup conversation and they had a right to their privacy. I was rather proud of reaching this conclusion and tried not to listen.

But that was hard to do. I heard Auntie Paula say to my mother, “You think you're a princess because everyone has always treated you like one. Well, this is a different world.”

“For heavensakes, Paula!” Auntie Edna said.

For a while, nobody said anything. Though I had decided to give the mothers their privacy, I could not help thinking about how much nicer Auntie Edna, who didn't want to argue, was than either Auntie Paula or my mother.

“He's got a gun,” I heard Fredek say.

“What did you say?” his mother asked.

“He has a gun,” Fredek repeated.

Auntie Edna looked at Auntie Paula, then at Mother.

“Who has a gun?” Auntie Paula asked.

“That man, Mr. Lupicki. I saw it inside his coat. It's very small and has a white handle.”

“You didn't really see it,” Miss Bronia said with a little laugh in her voice. But I could tell by her tone that she wasn't really sure.

“Yes, I did,” Fredek insisted.

“I don't believe him,” Auntie Paula said.

“If Fredek says he saw it,” Auntie Edna insisted, “that means he saw it.”

“Fredek is very creative,” Miss Bronia was saying in a tone that I could tell was meant for Fredek's benefit. “He's very good at making up wonderful stories, aren't you, Fredek?”

“Yes,” he agreed.

“And this is one of them, isn't it?” Miss Bronia said. “You made it up for our amusement on this long hot trip.”

“No,” he said. “I saw the gun.”

“What are we going to do?” Auntie Edna said.

“Fredek is lying,” Auntie Paula said.

“Fredek doesn't lie,” Auntie Edna answered. “Like Bronia said, he is very creative and makes up stories sometimes.”

“And this is one of them.”

“He said it isn't,” his mother insisted, “and I believe him.” But I wasn't sure that she did. “Basia?” Auntie Edna said.

“What?” my mother asked. “Now you're asking me what to do? A minute ago you two were saying that I wasn't qualified to make decisions about my own truck, and now you want me to decide whether Fredek is telling the truth?”

In the first place, Auntie Edna hadn't said anything of the sort—she had been trying to stop them from arguing. And in the second place, Auntie Paula had said that none of them knew what the best thing to do was. What she had meant, of course, was that they should make decisions together. Mother was being unfair to them both.

“What I propose we do,” Mother was saying, “is forget the whole issue for the moment. We let Lupicki ride with us for protection, and if he does have a gun, that makes him even better protection, doesn't it? And if he means to use the gun
against us, there is nothing we can do at the moment anyway. But if that does turn out to be his intent, I'm sure I can talk him out of it. He's only a shoe store clerk.”

“Do you agree with that, Paula?” Auntie Edna asked.

I looked over at my cousin Fredek. With his index finger extended, he held an imaginary pistol and was quietly and repeatedly executing each mother in turn. Sonya was huddled in the corner, her legs drawn up on the bench. I expected that she was asleep.

Suddenly the truck lurched violently.

“What was that?” Auntie Edna cried.

Miss Bronia, who could see through our partially open door because she sat on my side said, “We've left the road. We seem to be in a field of some sort.”

“It's Lupicki!” Auntie Edna shouted.

The truck was rocking back and forth as we drove. Craning my neck to peer around the partially open door, I could see the road that we had been on to our left. A big crater cut the road in two, and people were making their way around it. Some people were lying on the ground.

We passed fairly close to several. I didn't think that anyone besides me and Miss Bronia could see them.

“Are they dead?” I whispered to Miss Bronia.

“Nobody's dead,” Auntie Edna snapped. She hadn't been meant to hear my whisper, and from where she sat she couldn't see out the door, but I could tell from her tone that her comment was rooted not in fact, but in expediency. It was, I realized, like my grandmother trying to keep Grandfather's death a secret. Miss Bronia didn't say anything, but gave me a little squeeze with the arm she held around me.

“Children,” Auntie Paula said suddenly, “there is a war going on and some people are being killed. We may all have to see some dead people before it's over.”

“Don't say that to the children,” Auntie Edna admonished her. “Children, it's true that sometimes people get killed, but
you're not to look at them. Sometimes we may have to tell you to close your eyes.”

“What nonsense are you telling them now?” Auntie Paula said. “We may get to see a lot of dead people, and the children will have to learn to look at them too. We may be killed ourselves.”

“What are you saying?” Auntie Edna demanded. “What are you saying? Children, we're perfectly safe in this truck. It's bulletproof, and nothing will happen to us.”

I heard Auntie Paula give a loud snort.

The truck gave another big lurch and then smoothed out. We were on the road again. We were moving faster than before. I could see that we were passing people on foot. They were dressed in work clothes and business suits, in dresses like my mother wore and long peasant skirts with kerchiefs around their faces like the woman who sold vegetables down the street from our house or the one who had had her hand shot off. Some rode bicycles and one man was riding a donkey with his feet almost dragging on the ground.