Hewitt frowned and scrutinized Jack as if seeing him for the first time. He cleared his throat before continuing. “All right. Then answer me one more thing. Why would a simple operative like you know more than the Soviet engineers who’ve assured me those machines are beyond repair?”
“The thing is, sir, if I may be so bold, I don’t give a damn what the Russians say. I know those machines, and I can fix them,” he replied.
“Hmm.” Hewitt clenched his teeth, as though judging Jack’s nerve. Finally, he turned to the Soviet. “Sergei, please order your men to examine the Cleveland machine that trapped me and determine whether it could be fully repaired without having to wait for spare parts.”
“Sir, that inspection already was carried out, and our experts decide—”
“Then do it again!”
Sergei shot Jack a murderous look before complying with Wilbur Hewitt’s order.
While they waited for the report, Hewitt turned his attention away from Jack and focused on checking the cargo inventory. He verified the number of containers still to be unloaded, counted the freight cars to which they’d be transferred, and went over the customs control records while Jack waited by the gunwale. Within a few minutes, Sergei returned, escorted by a Soviet technician Jack hadn’t seen before. The stranger, a timid-looking man, scrutinized Jack with disdain before bending to say something into Hewitt’s ear. When he’d finished, the executive turned to Jack with astonishment painted all over his face. He scrutinized the young man in silence for a few seconds.
“OK, kid. It appears you have ability as well as nerve. I might even consider offering you a contract. But there’s one thing I’d like to get to the bottom of.”
Jack took a deep breath, convinced that Hewitt would make him reveal where he acquired his skills. He felt his heart pumping. Hewitt narrowed his eyes and smoothed his mustache.
“Why would you risk going against the ban on entering the hold to try to fix some machines that, as far as you knew, could have been irreparable?”
Jack tried to control his nerves while he considered his response. He fixed his eyes on Wilbur Hewitt’s and replied, “Because, like you said, sir, this country needs Americans with guts, to get things working.”
Back in the dormitory, he found Walter and Sue killing time until they could disembark.
“Where the hell have you been? We thought you’d gone overboard!” Sue scolded him.
Jack quickly gathered his belongings, deciding to make up a story until he could find the right moment to tell them all about his meeting with Wilbur Hewitt.
“I got distracted up on deck by the scenery. It’s freezing out there.” He cleared his throat. “We should put on every bit of clothing we’ve brought.”
“And what do you think we’ve done?”
Jack, who hadn’t noticed earlier what they were wearing, bellowed with laughter. His friends were wrapped up like mummies. While he finished packing, he saw two families, the Danielses and the Millers with their children, standing nearby.
“What are they waiting for?” Jack murmured into Walter’s ear.
“The Danielses? They seemed a bit lost, so I invited them to travel with us. The Millers heard and asked if they could join our group as well. I couldn’t exactly say no,” answered Walter with a serious look.
“You invited them? And what did you tell them? That if they came with us, they’d all be given Christmas turkeys?” he whispered. “Think for a second! It’s not just that they’ll make the journey more difficult, which they will; if they come with us, they’re putting their fate in the hands of two guys wanted for murder.” He shook his head.
“So, what would you have had me do?” replied Walter. “Remind them that we’re Americans, and that Americans don’t help one another? After all, that’s why we’re here, isn’t it? Because no one in our country helped us. Damn it, Jack! They won’t be any trouble. Look at their eyes . . . They’re excited! They know you speak Russian and that you have a rapport with Hewitt, so they thought you could help them. Ah, well. You’re the one who’s got their hopes up, so you decide.”
Jack turned to look at the Danielses and Millers, and couldn’t find even a hint of the excitement that Walter mentioned on their faces. On the contrary, all he could see was desperation in the dark rings around their eyes and on their famished bodies. He let out a sigh and cursed. These people would be more than an inconvenience, but if nobody took care of them, they would struggle. He took a deep breath and gripped his trunk. “You big softy! All right. Tell them to gather their things and follow us.”
An icy wind stabbed at the faces of the passengers descending the gangplank of the SS Cliffwood, making them huddle together like a row of icicles molded together by frost. Jack was the first to set foot on the Helsinki paving, a wharf like any other, except that ice glazed its surface and snow whitened its little red buildings. Sue suggested they leave their luggage with another passenger and take the opportunity to visit the city, but Jack and Walter thought they’d better save their energy and head directly to the railroad station.
The station was an exquisite art nouveau building on two floors, insignificant compared to New York’s Grand Central, but with a waiting room large enough to accommodate all the frozen passengers. Jack rushed to get ahead of the emigrants in front of him and settled his group on some wooden benches near the ticket office. After stacking the luggage against the wall, he looked around. The station thermometer read twenty below zero. He didn’t need to convert it to Fahrenheit to know that it was an inhuman temperature. Fortunately, the waiting room was clean, and the locals who looked at them with interest wore clothes of obvious quality, attractively made, suggesting they didn’t need to worry too much about thieves. Everything seemed new and well tended, except for the poor souls who had just disembarked. Jack adjusted his threadbare overcoat, missing the deerskin jacket he’d used in the winter in Detroit. Still, when he looked up and saw the rags that covered the Miller children, he couldn’t help feeling sorry for them. He sucked in air and contemplated their troubled faces. Despite the cold and the hunger, the two youngsters endured in silence. Without saying a word, Jack took off his overcoat and held it out to Mrs. Miller, who, immediately gripping it as if someone were about to snatch it from her, ran to wrap it around her children. Jack answered the woman’s expressions of gratitude with a forced smile, and moved to one end of the bench to plan his entrance into the Soviet Union.
During the voyage, he had seen that two types of emigrants traveled on board the SS Cliffwood: a handful of lucky ones who would arrive in Russia with a contract in their hands, accommodation arranged, and train tickets paid; and those left to their fate, traveling on tourist visas. But the case was different for Walter and Jack. Since their applications had been rushed through, Amtorg had given them only an authorization that they would take to the Council of the People’s Commissariat for Trade and Industry in Moscow to exchange for a proper contract. They had no transportation or hotel; they would have to make their own arrangements. The Danielses and the Millers were among the jobless families that would enter Russia as tourists, so they would travel with them until Leningrad, at least. Jack sighed. It was going to be a long and arduous journey.
He was pondering this when Walter approached to tell him that he had just held a committee meeting with his comrades in arms, as he referred to a group of American emigrants with whom he’d struck up a friendship.
“In the end, we agreed that, given your privileged situation, you could ask Hewitt for favorable treatment for all of us. You should’ve seen their faces, Jack. Even Bob Green, the Wisconsin carpenter who introduced you to his children on the ship, was saying that you were the best thing that had happened to him since they left home. I promised them you wouldn’t let them down.”
Jack swore. First it was the Danielses, then the Millers, and now the Greens. At this rate, soon he’d no longer be Jack the mechanic; he’d be Jack the Moses, leading his flock to the Promised Land.
> “Walter, how could you have? You know what our situation is. Hewitt’s an industrialist who looks out for himself. And who knows what kind of arrangement he has with the Soviets?”
“Get outta here, Jack. You saved him. He’s an American like us. He can’t hang them out to dry.”
“He can’t? Like I say, you can bet he has his commitments. In fact, he’s on the way to a hospital now, Christ knows where. When these people boarded the ship, they knew what they were getting into. And anyway, most of them will get work as soon as they arrive. That’s what you’ve always said, isn’t it? That there are jobs falling from the sky. That there’s work for everyone.”
“Oh, come on, man. I’m not saying it’s absolutely necessary, but you know as well as I do that any help will be welcome. We’ll find out where he’s being treated. Hewitt has an obligation to repay you.”
Jack was silent. He looked at Walter and lowered his head. “He already has.”
“What?” Walter took off his glasses to improve his focus, as if wanting to make sure that Jack was saying what he thought he was.
“You heard me. I spoke to him before disembarking, and he offered me an assistant’s position. They were going to send the machinery that was damaged in the storm back to Dearborn, but I persuaded him that I could fix it, and now they’re going to transport it to Gorky.”
“Seriously? Well, that’s fantastic! Why didn’t you say so before? So, did you tell him about us? Did you tell him you’re traveling with two friends who would also be useful to him?”
“Of course I told him.”
“And?”
“I’m sorry, Walter. I tried, but his reply was that the position was just for me.”
“What? Who the hell does he think we are? A bunch of bums? I bet he didn’t know we were traveling with guaranteed jobs. So what did you say? God! I would have given my last dollar to see his face when you turned down his offer.” He gave a proud smile.
Jack fell silent. Then Walter saw that Jack’s face showed the same expression that his boss had adopted when he laid him off from the printer’s.
“Jack? You did turn him down, didn’t you? You wouldn’t have said yes . . .”
“I tried. I insisted he had to make the two of you an offer as well, but he said I had two choices: accept his proposal and start building a promising future for myself, or turn it down and work on an assembly line for the rest of my life.”
“But if we separate, how will Sue and I integrate? You’re the one who knows the language. The one who can help us.” Walter put his spectacles back on with such anger that he almost broke a sidepiece. “What’re we gonna do?”
“I don’t know, Walter. I don’t know how things work here. When it comes to the Soviet Union, you were always the one who had all the answers.”
Jack found a bench outside the waiting room. He felt indebted to Walter and Sue, but he didn’t know how to repay them. The two of them had gone off for a walk. Jack didn’t wish to see anybody. Some passengers who knew he spoke Russian had pestered him to translate leaflets and tickets for them, but he needed time to ponder how he could make amends with his friends. He couldn’t come up with anything, until he thought of the passengers who kept badgering him for translations. Finnish and Swedish were the languages of Finland. Signs at the ticket counter indicated a Russian-speaking and a French-speaking clerk, but none who spoke English.
He stood with purpose and checked the price of international journeys on a nearby information board. After making a few notes, he headed to a group of passengers and started to gather them around. He made them an offer they couldn’t refuse: he would buy their tickets from the Russian-speaking clerk for them, saving them the hassle of communicating in a foreign language, and he would give them a 5 percent discount on the official price for journeys to Leningrad.
“Just like that?” asked a bearded man with a doubtful expression.
“Just like that, friends. Don’t let anyone tell you we Americans don’t help one another,” he said, remembering Walter’s words.
Some were suspicious, but most agreed to it. They gave him the money, and Jack, after handing each emigrant a makeshift receipt, headed to the ticket office where, to his surprise, he saw Elizabeth Hewitt, along with a maidservant, discussing business with two Soviets.
While he waited his turn, Jack couldn’t help overhearing the conversation that Miss Hewitt’s maidservant was attempting in her rudimentary Russian. However, Elizabeth captured most of his attention. She was wearing a red leather coat with fingerless gloves, along with an ushanka, the famous Russian hat with earflaps, which made her even more attractive. Jack tried to go unseen, but the young woman noticed his presence. His pulse quickened. Between glances, he daydreamed about what her interests might be. Perhaps she rode or played tennis, spoke French, or played a musical instrument.
As he moved forward in the line, Jack concentrated on counting the money that some fifty passengers had given him. If his calculations were correct, even after giving them a discount of 5 percent, he would make a decent profit, since the offer for large groups was for 25 percent off the standard ticket price. When it was his turn, he bought the tickets, checked the change, and stealthily hid the profit in the secret pocket he’d sewn into his pants to avoid being robbed. He was turning around, his hand still down the front of his trousers, when he found himself face-to-face with Elizabeth Hewitt.
“Ah!” exclaimed the young woman with feigned astonishment. “Handling machinery again, Mr. Beilis?”
Jack’s hand shot out from his pants as if it had been seared with a hot iron.
“Miss Hewitt! What . . . what a pleasant surprise! I was just . . . I was . . .” To hide his embarrassment, he showed her some rubles that he had received as change.
“Oh! A novel way to mint money! But he can spare us the details, can’t he, Gertrud?” she said.
“Miss Elizabeth! I should remind you that Mr. Hewitt doesn’t want you to speak to strangers. Not to mention”—she gave a grimace of distaste—“strangers who go around . . . touching themselves in those parts!”
The young woman gave her maidservant a smile, revealing teeth radiant as mother-of-pearl.
“Don’t be alarmed, Gertrud. Jack’s an old acquaintance, and as far as I know, he’s very much to my uncle’s liking.”
“I’m glad you think that, Miss Hewitt,” Jack said, still flushed but trying to put his best foot forward.
“Well, Jack, that you’re to my uncle’s liking doesn’t mean you are to mine.” Her intense gaze unsettled him, because her eyes seemed to contradict her words.
Jack managed to regain his composure. He smoothed his jacket down with his hands and tried to relax. He didn’t want to waste an opportunity that might not present itself again.
“I understand you’re staying in Helsinki for a few days,” he said.
“I see that news travels fast even on this side of the world. That’s right. We’ll stay until the doctors decide how bad my uncle’s injury is. And if all’s well, we’ll move on to Moscow, where he has some business to take care of. So it would appear that this is where you and I go our separate ways.”
“Maybe not. We’re taking the next train to Leningrad, but then we’re traveling on to Moscow, to hand in some documents. Who knows? We might meet again there.”
“Oh, I don’t think so. Moscow’s a big city. We’re about as likely to bump into each other there as a polar bear and a Pygmy. Farewell, Jack,” she said, and moved to walk away.
“In that case, which would I be? The bear or the Pygmy?” He took the liberty of holding her back by the arm, offering her his best smile.
Elizabeth returned it, making him think for the first time that she might eventually succumb to his charms.
“The bear, I suppose.”
“And could that bear dance with you next Friday at your party at the Hotel Metropol in Moscow?” he said.
“How do you know—?” She was left speechless.
“I’m sor
ry. I couldn’t help hearing your conversation with your maidservant. The party, it’s for your birthday, right?”
“Oh! I see . . . All right, Jack, let’s get a couple of things clear.” She gently freed herself from his grip. “Maybe there’s been a moment or two when I’ve thought you seem like a fun guy. Sure. You’re gutsy. Sharp. Good-looking, even. But look at you.” She surveyed him from top to bottom, as if adding together the price of each garment he wore. “I can promise you that you’re not even close to the kind of guy that a Hewitt would introduce to her friends.”
Jack watched Elizabeth Hewitt disappear into the crowd. When she was out of sight, he stood motionless, entranced by her image. He remained there for some time, until the station clock’s bell reminded him he had to get back to his friends. But he didn’t rush. He checked that their train tickets were in a safe place, and then strolled to where his compatriots were waiting for him to finish the transaction. As he walked, he forgot about his profits for a moment, turning his thoughts back to the industrialist’s niece. Perhaps he wasn’t the kind of man that a wealthy woman like her would step out with. Not at the moment. But Elizabeth Hewitt didn’t know he was prepared to do whatever it took to become that man.
9
The gigantic boiler of the October Revolution Locomotive Works steam engine, proudly displaying the five-pointed red star on its side, snorted furiously and spewed out an immense column of steam that filled the station platform. The train shuddered, and, shaking and screeching, slowly began to pull its cars, while the last passengers leapt on, hurried by the trainmen’s whistles. Jack was glad he’d been able to get on early, as it had enabled him to strike a deal with the controller to accommodate the Millers and Danielses in a compartment next to the one he’d obtained for himself and his friends. It was third class, but at least they would travel in relative comfort, away from the Finnish farmers, who were loaded down like mules. Walter reclined to rest his back, while Sue made herself comfortable on his lap. However, as they set off, a family of Soviet villagers carrying a consignment of chickens saw the free seats, and greeting them loudly, helped themselves.
The Last Paradise Page 10
