Heidegger's Glasses_ A Novel Part 7

Is this a real town? she said.

I'll explain later, said Elie.

Do other kids live here? she asked.

I'll explain that too.

Maria looked at the enormous door to the main room and smiled when Parvis Nafissian came out. Elie pushed her on to the white house where Lars was by the pear tree. Don't say anything Don't say anything, she mouthed to him.

As soon as she saw Maria, Talia gathered her in her arms and told her how big she'd grown. She touched the snow on Maria's coat and said she'd brought real weather. Maria laughed and said real weather had come to her. She hugged Mikhail, looked around the room, and noticed a mirror.

I haven't seen myself in five months, she said.

At first Talia didn't notice the boy in Elie's arms. But when she did-in a pause that was less than a heartbeat-she hugged him too.

This is Dimitri, Elie said.

Where did you come from? Talia asked Dimitri.

Do you want to tell? asked Elie.

Dimitri shook his head.

From a closet in that safe house, Elie said. No one came for him.

She sat on the couch and unwrapped the blanket. Dimitri crawled behind her, like a mouse squeezing into a hole.

He needs to eat, said Talia.

Both of them do, said Elie.

Maria spun around, walked to the window, and looked at the frozen sky with its moon and stars. This is an enchanted place, she said.

Soon the atmosphere was imbued with calm-as though the children had always lived there. Talia brought potato soup from the main kitchen. Mikhail told Dimitri a fairy tale. Maria stood in front of the mirror and twisted her hair into a French knot. She wanted to know when she could see snow again and was disappointed when Mikhail said: Tomorrow.

The calm reminded Elie of her own family in the evening-knitting, reading, doing homework. And while she basked in this sense of calm, she thought of different things to tell Lodenstein: She'd found the children in the woods. Or in the jeep when she came back from her foray. Or a woman at a market begged her to take them. Each story seemed better than the last one.

The best story by far was about finding the children under a fence at a railway station. While Elie was embellis.h.i.+ng this story, she heard a knock on the window and saw Stumpf's huge face at the gla.s.s. She put Dimitri on Mikhail's lap and raced outside.

What's that boy doing here! he shouted. Why didn't you take just one?

And leave the other to rot?

But we bargained for one, said Stumpf.

We bargained? I thought we were saving lives, said Elie.

I meant, arranged for just one child, said Stumpf.

What do you mean arranged arranged? Like the mail in your office?

Stumpf gulped some schnapps and waved his hands toward the main room. This place is a rabbit warren, he said. We don't have a place to put another one.

That little boy had been in the safe house for at least a day by himself, said Elie.

All the more reason to leave him there. Stumpf walked back and forth and appeared to be thinking. Finally he said: I won't have anything to do with him. He's yours.

I wouldn't have it any other way.

There was a thump behind him: Lodenstein dropping a chessboard.

So this is what you brought from the outpost, he shouted at Elie.

I told her not to meddle, said Stumpf.

Shut your f.u.c.king mouth, said Lodenstein.

He kicked a bench. Talia tugged at Maria, who was watching from the window.

I knew it was a bad idea, said Stumpf.

Don't talk to me, said Lodenstein. The two of you did this behind my back.

We didn't, said Elie.

Lodenstein picked up an artificial rose bush and smashed the pot into shards.

Then how is bringing two fugitives the same as bringing mail?

Elie kicked one of the shards.

I won't talk about it now, she said. You're acting like an animal.

She went back to the Solomons' and banged the door with such force it rattled the artificial pear tree.

I did it for Elie, said Stumpf when Elie left. And the deal was for just one child.

What do you mean deal? said Lodenstein.

I mean it was for Elie, said Stumpf. She's good-hearted, but she doesn't think. Here-have some schnapps.

I don't want schnapps. I want to know what's going on.

Elie went to that town and got them. I'll make her bring them back.

You're a liar and a moron.

Don't shout! It's our private business.

Business, my a.s.s. Lodenstein picked up the chessboard and held it over Stumpf's head.

I could crack your skull with this, he said, and no one would know. That's how stupid you are.

The tick above Stumpf's eye began to skitter.

Please! he said. The walls can hear!

And indeed all the Scribes were listening. Nothing was better than a good fight. Maybe Lodenstein would murder Stumpf, and they could bury him in the woods.

I told you there would be a mess, said Ferdinand La Toya.

Maybe it's not a mess, said Parvis Nafissian.

Believe me, it's a mess, said La Toya. We should have written a letter after all.

Soon banging pots could be heard throughout the Compound-Stumpf, eating more than his share of sausage to quell his anxiety. Elie buried her face in the Solomons' couch.

What is this place? said the girl.

Someone's invention, said Mikhail.

But do people really live here? said Maria.

In a manner of speaking, said Mikhail.

Where do they sleep?

Mostly in a big room, said Talia. But you'll sleep here.

Can I see that room? Maria asked.

Tomorrow, said Mikhail.

I wish I could see it now.

Talia and Mikhail looked at each other with disappointment. Maria, who'd been nine when they last saw her, now reminded them of Aaron before they went to Lodz-fascinated by the world, whatever that world was-and not very interested in them.

Elie turned to Dimitri. Do you want to see the room too?

No, he said. It was the first word he'd spoken.

Elie was pleased that he'd said something. She kissed him and said: Why not?

Because this is so soft, said Dimitri, patting a pillow.

Talia and Mikhail looked uncomfortable. Then Talia said: He's so little. You two can sleep on the couch tonight.

I don't mind sleeping in that big room, said Maria.

And there's always room for another Scribe in there, said Elie.

Mikhail laughed. Always room for another Scribe? he said. You're talking like the Reich.

But I'm not thinking like the Reich, said Elie. She hugged Dimitri and told Talia and Mikhail to bring him to her if he got scared.

Don't lose sight of Maria, Talia mouthed.

I won't, she mouthed back.

While they walked down the cobblestone street, Elie pointed to the frozen canopy and told Maria not to worry about the groans of pulleys and gears-it was just the sky changing from night to day and back again. Maria said the only sounds that worried her were gunshots.

No one new had arrived for almost a year, and Maria got a standing ovation from Parvis Nafissian, Niles Schopenhauer, and a man named Knut Grossheimer, who never talked to anyone. When the clapping stopped, Elie took Maria back to the street and asked if she knew about French letters-common slang for condoms. Maria said she'd gotten some from a soldier who s.n.a.t.c.hed her from a line to the gas chambers, but she only needed to open one.

So that's how she saved herself, Elie thought. She brought Maria to her desk, showed her where to find them in the top drawer, and told her to open every single one she needed. Maria nodded and looked at the wall.

What's all that stuff?

A jumble shop, said Elie. She pulled out a blue coat and held it to Maria's face.

Look, she said. This coat is the color of water. It would look lovely on you.

But Maria-as if suddenly transported to when she saw her parents led to the gas chambers-said she didn't want anything lovely. She looked very young and as though she was going to cry. Parvis Nafissian came up silently, swept the coat from Elie, and put it around Maria's shoulders.

You're more than lovely, he said to her.

Parvis, said Elie. She's been through enough.

I agree, said La Toya.

What business is it of yours? said Gitka.

He's robbing the cradle, said La Toya.

That cradle would be in a death camp if it hadn't been robbed before, Gitka said.

She opened her fur coat and showed La Toya a black lace camisole, delicate, filigreed. La Toya turned away, and Elie remembered-not without hurt feelings-that she'd gotten Gitka's camisole from the best corset-maker in Berlin-a favor for smuggling her son to Switzerland. She pushed aside the telescope and pulled thick fur coats to make beds for her and Maria.

Where do all these coats come from? said Maria.

Elie hesitated. Then she said: From people who weren't so lucky.