by Ella Zeiss
A dark figure turned round in surprise. The intruder must have felt the motion of the door. Harri seized the opportunity and swung his bag. It hit the stranger in the stomach and he doubled up with a gasp. Harri leapt on the man at once, forcing him to the ground.
‘Enough, I give in!’ a familiar voice choked.
‘Vater?’ Harri froze.
‘Yes.’ Harri’s father gently pushed the boy away and started to get up slowly. ‘That was some punch,’ he said, rubbing his stomach.
‘I’m sorry,’ Harri stammered. ‘I didn’t know . . . I wasn’t expecting you . . .’
‘It’s all right.’ Vater got to his feet. ‘It’s good to know that your mother and sister are in such good hands.’
‘Harri? What’s going on? What was that noise?’ Mutter had wrapped herself in a shawl and came rushing out of her bedroom in her bare feet.
‘Hello, darling,’ Vater said quietly.
Mutter gasped and ran into his arms.
‘I missed you so much. All of you,’ Vater said, hugging her tightly.
‘What’s going on?’ Emma came out of the room, rubbing her eyes sleepily. ‘Vater!’ she shrieked at once.
Harri wondered how she could see him in the dark. She must have recognised his voice. Excited and happy, Emma ran over to their father. Harri felt for the oil lamp on the dining room table and lit it with the matches they kept nearby. The room was bathed in warm yellow light.
‘Wait.’ Mutter pushed their father back towards the door, then swiftly closed the window shutters. They had been leaving them open now that it was spring in order to let more light into the house.
As soon as she was sure that no one outside would be able to catch sight of him, she turned back to her husband. ‘Sit down and rest. You look so tired.’
She was right. In the lamplight Vater’s cheeks looked hollow under his beard and there were dark shadows under his eyes. He looked tired and dejected as well as slightly shabby, although his eyes shone with joy as he looked at his family.
Mutter put the kettle on the stove while Emma went to fetch a plate and cup for him. Harri cut some thick slices of the crunchy rye bread Mutter had baked the day before.
Impatiently they all watched Vater wolfing down his food. Harri’s mind was racing, trying to work out what this sudden reappearance might mean for all of them. He could see that his mother and sister were wondering the same thing. Their faces were filled with a mixture of surprise, happiness and sadness, but they left him in peace and didn’t say a word. To judge by the look of him, he hadn’t had a meal in a while.
Finally he scooped up the last crumbs from his plate and pushed it away. ‘That was delicious,’ he sighed contentedly.
‘How have you been?’ Mutter asked tentatively. ‘Did you find a job in the end? You didn’t mention anything in your last letter.’
He shook his head. ‘No one will have me, not even as a fieldworker or cowherd. That awful note in my passport has turned me into an outcast. That’s why I’ve come back.’
‘What are you going to do?’ Mutter sounded alarmed and Harri didn’t like the dark undertone in Vater’s voice.
‘I see no other option,’ he said with a shrug. ‘I’m going to go to Baku to the People’s Commissariat HQ for our area, and they can either shoot me right there or give me a new passport. I certainly can’t live with this one.’
‘What? No!’ Mutter cried out in shock. ‘That’s out of the question. It’s far too dangerous! What happens if they decide to arrest you or sentence you?’
‘What else am I supposed to do?’ He looked so exhausted. ‘I can work and I want to work, but no one will give me a chance.’
‘You could stay here,’ Mutter said slowly.
‘And then what? Hide inside the house all the time, living in constant fear that someone will see me? Tied to your apron strings without being able to lift a single finger to help, not even in the garden?’
‘Of course not.’ She lowered her head. ‘But if you go, we might never see you again, might not even hear what happens to you.’
‘That’s why I came back, to say goodbye. To see you all again and tell you how much I love you.’
‘This is insane.’ Mutter was struggling to fight back the tears. Emma buried her head against her shoulder.
‘I can see no other way,’ Vater repeated quietly. ‘I have spent plenty of time thinking it through, believe me. I’ve come to the conclusion that the note in my passport was completely arbitrary, a personal act of revenge for some humiliation caused by Muradov. I don’t think it’s based on actual fact. If they had had a shred of evidence against me, they would have arrested me on the spot.’
‘That’s what you think. They may see things very differently at HQ.’ Mutter reached out her hand and squeezed his fingers. ‘I can’t stand it. You need to understand that – all the hope and fear and waiting I saw afflicting Gerda once Otto was taken, and how it very nearly broke her to realise that he had been dead for days while she was still desperately fighting for his freedom, for his life. I can’t do it and I won’t,’ she stated in a quavering voice.
‘I’ll go with him,’ Harri said suddenly. The idea had only just come to him, but it felt right.
‘Have you lost your mind?’ Mutter snapped. ‘What do you suppose you can achieve, apart from being caught up in the wheels of this arbitrary justice?’ Never before had she made it so patently clear how she really felt about the regime they lived under.
But Harri wasn’t about to change his mind. ‘I could tell you what happens,’ he explained, ‘and then you won’t have to worry so much. A letter would take at least ten days if you’re lucky, and it would only take me two.’
‘Perhaps it’s really not such a bad idea,’ Vater said slowly.
‘You can’t be serious!’
‘I’m not a small child any more, Mutter, and I always said I wanted to see Baku one day.’
‘This isn’t some pleasure trip,’ she answered sharply.
‘I know that.’
Her eyes glistened with tears as they swept back and forth between father and son, both of whom met her gaze calmly. ‘Is that your last word?’
‘Yes.’
‘Then do as you please!’ She stood up so abruptly that her chair skidded across the floor. ‘But don’t say I didn’t warn you!’ She swallowed, doing her best to keep her temper, then held out a hand to her daughter. ‘Come on, sweetheart. We’re going back to bed.’
Amazed, Harri watched her go. She took Emma into her bedroom and shut the door firmly behind her.
‘Don’t worry,’ Vater said, stroking Harri’s back reassuringly. ‘It’s not often Mutter loses her temper, but when she does it’s all the more dramatic. She’ll have calmed down by tomorrow morning, you’ll see.’
Chapter 19
Vater was right. Mutter had got up before dawn to make them a big breakfast. Her eyes were red with weeping, her lips tightly pressed together, but she didn’t broach the subject again. She hugged the pair of them, one after the other. ‘Look after yourselves,’ she said, and took a deep breath. ‘And you,’ she turned to Harri, ‘promise me that you’ll stay out of trouble. You’re not to go into the People’s Commissariat and if Vater does get into difficulties, you are to come home at once.’
‘All right, Mutter,’ Harri said reluctantly. He wasn’t prepared to seriously consider the possibility of his father’s arrest.
‘Have you put the money for the return journey somewhere safe?’
‘Yes, of course.’ He pulled out his pocket to show her the folded hanky tucked inside and fastened with a safety pin.
‘We’d better go,’ Vater said, full of regret and longing. ‘Trust me, everything will be fine.’ He smiled reassuringly at Mutter and kissed her firmly on the lips. ‘Come on, Harri.’
Silently Harri followed his father. His heart was thumping loudly and he had to resist the urge to hold his father’s hand for the comfort of its size and warmth. He wasn’t a child any mo
re – he’d just said so to his mother and he was going to have to learn to cope with his worries all on his own.
The first part of the journey was the most difficult. Not wanting to risk anyone recognising Vater at Aghstafa station, they had to make their way to the next station unnoticed. They slipped out of the village in the dark, needing to leave Aghstafa and the next village well behind before people started heading out to work. After that they’d be able to relax a little.
Harri would have loved to ask his father about his adventures over the last two months but the rapid pace meant he had to save his breath. There would be more time later when they were finally on the train.
They travelled for about two hours. Harri guessed it must be nearly seven o’clock by the time his father stopped and pulled the big water bottle out of his rucksack. He took a swig and passed it on to his son. ‘Are you hungry?’
Harri said no. He knew they had a long way to go and needed to ration their provisions accordingly. It was also harder to make good progress with a full stomach.
‘We should reach the turning to Tovuz in about an hour. That’s half of our journey done on foot. We can rest in the town before taking the night train to Baku.’ Vater set off again.
Over the next couple of hours, they were passed by the odd person walking on to the next village or a horse and cart, but all in all, the country road remained fairly empty, partly due to the fact that it was the spring holidays and partly because of the railway line running parallel to the road. Most goods were transported by train, including all the crops and other products taken directly to the capital to be distributed to the other republics.
The sun was already sinking towards the horizon, and Harri seemed to have lost all feeling in his feet, when at long last they reached Tovuz. The town was about the same size as Aghstafa and they simply had to follow the railway tracks in order to find the station.
Exhausted, Harri dropped onto a bench in the waiting room and pulled out his sandwiches while his father went to the ticket office to buy their tickets.
Three hours later they were on a train clattering through the growing darkness. Harri stared out of the window excitedly, trying to see as much of the landscape flying past as possible. All of a sudden he wanted the train to slow down. No one could say what awaited them at their destination. Would he return home in two days’ time utterly forlorn and all by himself, or together with his father who had been rehabilitated? He couldn’t say, and right now he didn’t want to know. All he wanted was to enjoy this moment with his father sitting beside him, alive and well and staring out of the window just as fascinated as he was.
‘The luxury of modern technology,’ Vater sighed. ‘How easy and comfortable travelling has become. How often I found myself wishing I had access to it all during the past few months.’ He shook his head in disbelief. ‘You know, one time it took me five days to walk to the next sovkhoz in search of work, and I was lucky too – a truck gave me a lift for the final few miles, but it was still no use.’ He fell silent, his mouth twisted in the bitter expression Harri had seen before. He couldn’t blame him. How much rejection and humiliation could a person stand before it changed him forever?
Harri must have fallen asleep at some stage, lulled by the gentle clanking of the wheels, because it was already light when he opened his eyes. He stretched his limbs and then looked around for his father. He felt a surge of panic when he realised he wasn’t there, but banished the feeling at once. His father wouldn’t have left him behind and got off the train while he was sleeping, and he couldn’t have been arrested without Harri noticing.
He stood up and looked around. The train had stopped. Vater’s jacket was still hanging on the hook above his seat, the rucksack still beneath it. He must be stretching his legs, he decided, that was all. Harri was trying to make his mind up – should he go and look for his father or stay where he was and wait for him? – when the door of their compartment opened and his father came in.
‘I managed to get us something for breakfast,’ he said, smiling broadly as he handed Harri two delicious-smelling pasties wrapped in thin paper. ‘The window in the corridor was open and I could smell them from in here!’ He shrugged and grinned. ‘I couldn’t resist.’
Harri was delighted. The pasties were fresh, hot and juicy – just exactly right. The meat juice ran down his wrist and he hurried to catch the drops with his tongue. He wasn’t allowed to do that at home. Mutter always insisted on good manners, but his father didn’t seem to mind at all. He winked at his son and licked the tips of his own fingers in collusion.
Slowly the train started to move again and an hour later they arrived at Baku station. Harri didn’t want to get off the train. He wanted the journey with his father to carry on and on, talking to each other or staring out of the window in silence, eating hot pasties with no worries about what might happen next, but it wasn’t possible. This was their final destination, and even if it hadn’t been, Vater couldn’t stay in hiding or keep on running forever. He had always been a proud man, willing to work hard to take care of his family, and the past few months had gnawed away at his spirit – otherwise he would never have decided on such a dangerous step and they would not now be standing here.
As soon as they had left the train, Vater went over to the railway timetable to look up the departure times. ‘The next train back to Aghstafa leaves at six o’clock this evening. If you miss that you’ll have to wait another whole day. If things don’t go well for me, I want you to take this train, all right?’
‘Yes, Vater.’
‘Right then,’ Vater said, straightening his shoulders and bracing himself against what lay ahead. ‘Let’s get this over and done with.’
It wasn’t difficult to find the Central Commissariat.
The first person they asked was able to give them directions straight away and it only took a few moments for them to reach the three-storey red-brick building.
‘You wait here,’ Vater said sternly and pointed to a small park with a solitary tree on the other side of the road. ‘I’ll come back, or ask someone to bring you a message if I can’t make it.’
Harri nodded dumbly. He felt as if he were going to choke. What on earth do people say to their father when they might never see him again? ‘Good luck,’ he said in strained tones.
‘Take care,’ Vater answered, and gave him a quick hug.
Harri watched as his father headed quickly and decisively into the building, engraving every last detail on his mind – the broad shoulders, the crumpled jacket, his head held high.
Then the door closed behind him and he was out of sight.
Slowly Harri went over to the tree and slid onto the ground. He pulled up his knees and rested his head on them. The clock on the building stood at one o’clock.
Harri hated waiting, and it was even worse when there was nothing to distract him or keep him occupied. He stared dumbly at the big hand of the clock, which was moving far too slowly.
Every time the door to the building opened, his heart started to race with excitement and his whole body tensed, only to relax again the next moment, half relieved, half disappointed – disappointed because his father hadn’t come out of the building, relieved because there was no stranger looking round to find him and pass on the sad news.
The hours went by. Now and then Harri got up and walked around the tree, to stretch muscles grown stiff from sitting so long, or simply to look at something other than the door all the time. As if it was branded on his retina, he could still see it if he closed his eyes.
It was now four o’clock. Harri was no longer expecting to see his father. He would wait for one more hour for someone to appear to inform him of his father’s fate, then he would go and find out for himself.
He knew he had promised both of his parents simply to go back home, but he couldn’t do it, not without knowing what had happened to his father and being able to give Mutter a worthwhile answer. He was planning to ask just one question after all, and a pretty
reasonable one at that, nothing that could be used against him or might sound wrong. There would still be enough time to buy a ticket and catch the train home.
Without thinking, Harri felt for the money in his pocket. The little lump gave him a sense of security. Perhaps he should ask now. All this waiting was doing no one any good.
Harri stood up resolutely and tried to ignore his shaking knees.
I’ll just ask the one question, he said to himself, trying to be brave and stay calm, but it grew more and more difficult for him to breathe with every step that he took, he was so nervous. It felt as though a ton weight was lying on his chest, yet at the same time butterflies were fluttering in his stomach. He dug his fingernails into his palms in an effort to control his inner turmoil but it wasn’t much use. His hands were shaking as he reached out to grab the door handle.
At the same moment the door was pulled open from the other side. Harri’s hand grasped empty air and he stumbled.
‘Whoops!’ Someone grabbed his arm and steadied him.
Harri’s brain was all foggy and it took a heartbeat or two for him to recognise his father.
‘What are you doing here?’
‘I . . . I wanted to know what was keeping you,’ Harri stammered, quite overwhelmed with relief.
‘Then I came out just in time,’ his father said. There was a hint of reproach in his voice, but he didn’t really seem to be annoyed. He was smiling far too much for that.
‘Did it work?’ Harri asked, unable to believe it.
‘Come on,’ Vater said, putting his arm round Harri’s shoulders and leading him away. Harri went with him without saying a word. This wasn’t the place to discuss matters.
They stepped into a deserted alleyway and leaned against a wall in the shadows.
