“What is it, little man?” He spoke fast, as if he had no time to lose.
“We, this boat, tomorrow.” Jacob held out their tickets. “In Barcelona, nobody. Talk captain.”
“The control room is that way.” The man pointed toward some windows on an upper deck.
Jacob and Moses went up a set of stairs to the upper deck and opened a door. The helmsman and some other officials stared at the boys as they entered the control room.
“Good evening. We talk captain?” Jacob attempted.
“What’s going on?” asked a bald uniformed man with a large mustache.
“Captain, we brothers, the Alejos. Tomorrow, boat to Argentina. Tonight, Barcelona, no sleep.”
The captain frowned. “You’re traveling alone? Do you have authorization to travel?”
Jacob presumed the man was asking for their papers and handed them over. The captain studied them, including their tickets.
“Your room won’t be ready until tomorrow, but if you can pay for the extra night, we can move you to one that’s already prepared. Where’s your luggage?” The captain made a gesture like carrying something.
Jacob shook his head. “Bad boys. They take things. We run.”
The captain nodded in disgust. There were always parasites lurking about the port seeking out people to exploit. It was the same all over the world.
The captain looked to one of the other men standing near. “Take some clothing to the room where the boys will stay.” Looking back at Jacob, he said, “Sometimes passengers leave luggage and other things on board. You can’t wear the same clothes for four weeks.”
Jacob did not catch it all, but he could tell it was good news for them. “Thank you, Captain, thank you,” he said.
“Captain García Urrutia, at your service.” He bowed.
Jacob and Moses were escorted out of the control room by a sailor. They peered over the deck and waved to the policeman, who waved back before turning and walking away.
The sailor led them down two decks and through a hallway to a room. He opened the door and stepped aside for them to enter. Jacob and Moses were dumbstruck. It was a big suite with a private bathroom, a small living room, and two bedrooms.
Jacob waved to take it all in, then pointed to himself and Moses with a puzzled look. “This? Us?”
“Yes, little man. You’ve got first-class tickets. The dining room is one floor down, and across from it is the game room, a bar, and a restaurant. It’s already past dinner, but if you order something, they’ll deliver it to your room. Use the bell,” he said. When the man pointed to a red button, Jacob understood enough to piece together that pushing the button would bring dinner.
After the sailor left them, Jacob and Moses just stared at each other in silence. Then they burst out laughing, shouting and jumping up and down. They kicked off their shoes and jumped on the beds until they were exhausted.
They did not end up eating that night. After the initial surprise wore off, they melted into the soft feather pillows and fell into sweet sleep. They dreamed of Buenos Aires, of their parents, of the future awaiting them in Argentina. The long, dangerous journey across Europe was almost over. Nothing could keep them from being together with their parents again for forever.
Chapter 30
Montevideo
September 9, 1943
The weeks at sea went by more slowly than Jacob and Moses had envisioned. The boat made its first stop in Valencia, then Cádiz. After three days in the Mediterranean Sea, they finally entered the immeasurable Atlantic Ocean. In two more days, they passed the Canary Islands and then bid a long farewell to land. For nearly two weeks, they saw nothing but an interminable blue that changed according to the intensity of the light and the time of day. A week after setting sail, they hit their first bad storm. The boat rocked so violently that Jacob and Moses vomited for two days straight.
In the evenings, they ate dinner at Captain García Urrutia’s table. He was an experienced sailor who had sailed every ocean and sea on the globe and who would soon be retiring. He was from Spain but had spent most of his life in Uruguay. He had a wife and three children in Montevideo. A friendly but reserved man, he was well respected by both his crew and the passengers. He had taken a liking to the Alejo brothers and took them under his wing for the whole long journey. Whenever he had a free moment, he would visit their suite or invite them to his to work on their Spanish. Moses picked it up very quickly. After a few weeks, Jacob could understand everything but spoke with a strong French accent.
Jacob and Moses also became friends with the children of several other families on board, especially the children of the Spanish vice-consul to Buenos Aires. They kept a tight lip about their true background and recent journey through two countries, though they were often tempted to tell the new friends they made, especially the captain.
There on the boat, the war seemed far away. Jacob had the sense that they were going to another world, with different problems and concerns. Though many refugees from France, Germany, and Belgium traveled on the boat, most of the passengers were Spanish or Argentine.
During the journey, Jacob and Moses thought often about their friends in Le Chambon-sur-Lignon, wondering how they were. Not a single day passed for Jacob without thoughts of Anna. He wanted to write the Trocmés as soon as they arrived in Buenos Aires to see if they had news of her.
On the morning of September 9, after a turn at Punta del Este, Jacob and Moses were with the captain on the ship’s bridge when the boat came into view of the city.
“Look! My beloved Montevideo,” the captain said, a smile of excitement playing on his lips. He had seen the brilliant scene of the city rising up from the mouth of the Río de la Plata dozens of times, and it never ceased to stir him. He loved this place, his home. There he would eventually drop anchor for the last time.
“Is the city very pretty?” Moses asked in clean Spanish with a Uruguayan accent, thanks to his tutor.
“Montevideo itself is beautiful, but the people are what make it wonderful. It’s a pity you won’t be able to really get to know the city. We’ll only be docked today. We’ll leave for Buenos Aires early tomorrow morning.”
“How far away is Buenos Aires?”
“Not far, hardly four hours from here.”
It was a gray morning, with a light drizzle falling over the river. The ship went through the necessary maneuvers to dock. The passengers who would be staying in Montevideo were already on deck with their luggage by the time the boat was in position and the gangway was lowered.
The captain had promised to show Jacob and Moses the city. The boys wanted to buy clothes as well. The clothes they had worn on the ship were not their own, and they wanted to look their best when they met their parents.
An hour later, the captain was escorting the two boys through the streets around the port toward his home near the Plaza Zabala. They knocked at the bars on the door, and a black woman with curly white hair opened. She jumped with gladness when she saw them.
“Good heavens, it’s the captain!” she said, welcoming him with a hug. Next came the captain’s wife, Charlot, and two of his children, Claudia and Martín. The oldest son was already married and lived in Santa Lucía.
Jacob and Moses felt a sort of happy, nervous jealousy watching the scene of affectionate greeting. Now that they were so close, they could hardly breathe for the anticipation of finding their parents. The moment was only hours away, yet they worried it would never come.
“These are the Alejo brothers, Jean and Marcel. They’re on their way to Argentina to find their parents.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Charlot said. She was elegant and beautiful with her blond hair and fine blue dress.
“Thank you, ma’am.”
“They’ll see their parents tomorrow, and the boys want to make a good impression. Perhaps you could help them shop for some clothes,” the captain suggested.
“Of course. But first let’s celebrate their arrival with mat
e,” his wife responded.
Jacob and Moses followed the family inside and sat down while the maid prepared the mate. The day was starting to clear up, and shy rays of sunlight filtered through the windows. The captain’s family asked all about the trip and the war in Europe, as news was slow in reaching them. The newspapers reported German losses, but no one knew for sure what was going on.
“At least in Spain there’s no war,” the captain joked.
“Mm-hmm,” Charlot snorted. Second-generation Polish, she was concerned for family members who were still in Spain.
“The Allies are slowly making their way through Italy, driving the Germans north. The Russians are recovering their positions, and German cities are bombed day and night,” the captain summarized.
Charlot nodded stonily. “Those Nazis deserve it. They’ve destroyed my grandparents’ country and killed tens of thousands of people.”
The captain’s daughter, Claudia, handed Jacob the mate. He looked at it suspiciously, sniffed, then took a cautious sip. As the hot water hit his tongue, he winced at the bitterness, and everyone laughed.
“You’ll get used to it,” the girl said.
On the side, Charlot asked her husband, “Have you heard what’s going on in Argentina?”
“What do you know?” he said, intrigued.
“There’s been a military coup, and they deposed President Ramón Castillo,” she said.
“Well, they finally dropped the pretense of presidents handpicked by General Uriburu, though I doubt another coup d’état will fix the country.”
“May God protect Argentina from her leaders!” Charlot said with a wry smile.
“Well, and let’s not even start on Uruguay. Our leaders could not exactly be accused of decency, you could say,” the captain retorted. While Uruguay was known as the Switzerland of the Americas, the crisis of 1929 and poor governance had squandered nearly all the country’s wealth.
After several rounds of mate, the captain’s wife and daughter took Jacob and Moses out to buy shirts, pants, and jackets. Jacob was euphoric when they returned. He was wearing his first long pants, and the boys felt like princes.
The captain’s eyebrows rose as he took in the new elegance of his young friends. They packed their clothes in a suitcase Charlot gave them, said their goodbyes, and headed back to the boat.
“Won’t you sleep at home tonight?” Jacob asked the captain.
“The day after next, I’ll be back in Montevideo. A captain never abandons the ship ’til he’s brought her safely home,” he answered, smiling.
They walked back up the gangway of La Habana and dined together one last time in the main dining room. The next morning, the ship would sail for Buenos Aires, and that very day Jacob and Moses would try to find their parents.
“Dinner has been delicious,” the captain said, dressed in his formal uniform.
Jacob finished off what was left on his plate and looked all around at the luxurious tables. He thought of the miserable people crammed into the velodrome, the detention camps, the needs overwhelming the provisions in Le Chambon-sur-Lignon. His stomach grew hard.
“Lots of people in France won’t have supper at all tonight,” he said quietly, needing to give voice to the guilt.
“That is true,” the captain said. Then he stood and asked the boys to follow him to the deck. They looked toward the port, where the lights of Montevideo were shining. It was a beautiful scene the captain did not want them to miss.
“They call this the New World, but don’t be deceived, boys. People are the same here as in the Old World. Greed, envy, hatred, violence, and injustice also control the streets of South America. We’re a mixture of Spanish, Portuguese, Italian, Russian, German, Polish, British, African, and natives. But we’ve all got the same ambitions and passions in our hearts.”
Jacob felt more confused. “But people say Argentina is a land of opportunity, where you can be truly free.” For months he had dreamed of South America as something new and different.
“It certainly is a land of opportunity, without a doubt. There is much to do; people adapt easily to their new home with the support of their communities. But the politicians and the powerful always get the best slices of the cake.”
“That’s not fair,” Moses complained.
“No, but it’s reality. When you’re young, you dream about making the world a better place, overturning injustice and inequality. But within time you just settle for getting by. I don’t mean to discourage you. What would the world become if each generation didn’t dream of changing it?”
Jacob leaned his chin on the cool metal of the rail. He understood what the captain was saying, but he knew it would be different with his generation. All they had suffered with the war, the death, the desolation . . . It would not be for nothing. As soon as the Allies beat the Germans, they would build a just land. Jacob was confident but did not share his thoughts with the captain.
“The important thing is that you’ll find your parents tomorrow. You already know where I live, so if you run into any trouble, you can come to my house or send me a letter. If I’m away, my family will help you.”
“Thank you,” Jacob said.
“Yes, thank you so much, Captain,” Moses echoed.
The captain chuckled and stroked Moses’s cheek. “Your Spanish is flawless now!”
“We’ll miss you very much,” Jacob said, straightening up again. He had grown much taller even since leaving Le Chambon-sur-Lignon.
The captain held out his hand to shake, then made a military salute, which the boys clumsily imitated.
“Tomorrow you reach your destiny. I do hope you’ll be happy. Though the world is full of injustice, don’t ever give up hope. There’s a lush valley behind every new mountain.”
The captain walked away, but the two brothers stayed watching the city lights a bit longer.
“Will we be able to find them?” Moses asked hesitantly.
“We didn’t come halfway across the world for nothing. Of course we’ll find them,” Jacob said, slinging his arm around Moses’s shoulders. Their eyes shone with the lights of the port, and the cool breeze and smell of the sea made them feel fully alive. They had so often feared this day would never come, that they would not make it—but here they were in the Rio de la Plata, in South America, and they would never have to be afraid again.
Chapter 31
Buenos Aires
September 10, 1943
La Habana docked at the port of Buenos Aires at ten o’clock in the morning. The captain had said a final goodbye to Jacob and Moses after breakfast. The boys packed their belongings in the suitcases provided by the captain’s wife, cast a final glance around their comfortable suite, and closed the door. Nerves and excitement propelled them toward the gangway, where a long line of passengers waited to disembark. A few policemen and a man in a white coat walked up the gangway. The police sergeant gave instructions, and the passengers presented their documentation. Argentine citizens got off first and were met with the hugs and kisses of friends and family members.
Jacob and Moses waited on deck and watched the process over and over: a traveler carrying more luggage than would seem possible would walk down the gangway looking all around the crowd waiting on land. Someone would shout the traveler’s name and start waving his or her arms, and the traveler would speed up and run into the outstretched arms of the loved one, dropping the suitcases, and smothering the person in kisses.
Meanwhile, on the boat, once the Argentine citizens had all disembarked, the police ordered the immigrants to have their papers ready. Jacob and Moses waited patiently in the long line until it was their turn. The agent took their papers and scrutinized them, studying the photos carefully before returning them.
“Origin?” the officer asked, filling out the forms.
“Paris, France,” Jacob answered.
“Relationship?”
“I’m sorry, what was that?” Jacob did not understand the question.
; “Are you two related?” the man asked blandly.
“Yes, brothers. Our parents—”
“Wait for the questions,” the agent said.
“I’m so sorry,” Jacob answered.
“Ages?”
“I’m thirteen, and my brother is nine,” Jacob said, pointing to Moses.
“Religion?”
Jacob was quiet for a moment. He had thought it would no longer matter in South America.
“Religion?” the agent repeated, looking up this time.
“Well, our parents are Jewish, but—”
“Fine, Jews,” the man said, ticking a box and licking his thumb to turn the paper over. He continued the questions in his monotonous voice. “Reason for traveling to Argentina?”
“To be reunited with our parents, who came to Buenos Aires a few months ago.”
“You have their current address?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And they will take charge of you?”
Jacob squinted, not sure what the question meant. The agent paused from his routine to explain. “Many parents don’t come for their children or take charge of them when the children arrive. But don’t worry, there are plenty of shelters for immigrant children, including Jewish shelters. We’ll attempt to alert your parents of your arrival, and if we can’t find them, we’ll take you to one of the shelters, though you might not both be able to go to the same one.”
“My parents will take charge of us,” Jacob answered with absolute conviction.
After assigning them a number, the policeman went to the next passenger, and the boys were passed to the doctor, who asked them several questions, examined them quickly, and told them to go down to the port.
Immigrants were directed to one side. Once there was a sizable enough group, a handful of policemen took them to a large building not too far away.
“What is that place?” Jacob asked a boy in front of him.
“The Immigrant Hotel. We’ll stay there until someone comes for us or until we find work.”
Children of the Stars Page 27
