Children of the Stars

by Mario Escobar

  “It’s not a jail, is it?” Moses asked.

  “Nope. They feed you decent food, and it’s clean enough, though there isn’t much privacy. Men and women are separated, and dozens of people sleep in the same room. But you can come and go, as long as you’re back by supper.”

  Jacob and Moses breathed a sigh of relief. Their arrival in Argentina was not turning out to be like they had pictured. It was much less exciting. They knew their parents were unaware of their arrival, but even so, they had envisioned the impossible sweetness of an immediate reunion.

  The Immigrant Hotel was a gigantic building with a huge entryway, an enormous dining hall with long marble tables, and a complex system of kitchens, laundry rooms, bathrooms, showers, and yards.

  Caretakers divided the group of recent arrivals and led them to their rooms. Jacob was amazed at the size of the dormitory with countless bunk beds. He jockeyed to get beside the boy they had talked with in line.

  “What’s your name?” Jacob asked.

  “Andrea,” the boy said.

  “Are you Italian?”

  “Yes. My father is sending me to stay with one of his brothers in Rosario. Things aren’t going well in my country. I figure my uncle will come get me soon. You can only stay here in the hotel five days for free. After that, you have to pay. You’d better find your parents as soon as you can. I heard that government employees work as slowly here as they do in Italy.”

  Jacob and Moses placed their suitcases on their beds, then sat down. The Italian boy pulled out a cigarette and offered them one.

  “No thanks, we don’t smoke,” Jacob said.

  “Your loss!” the boy joked.

  “Do you think it’s safe to leave our stuff here?”

  Andrea shrugged. “I wouldn’t leave it if I were in Italy, and they say that half this country is made up of Italians.”

  Jacob instinctively touched the belt inside his shirt where he kept their papers, money, and their parents’ address strapped to his body.

  “I’m going out to see Buenos Aires. After so many days at sea, I need to walk on solid ground,” Andrea said.

  Jacob and Moses nodded. “We’ll come too.” They stood and put on their jackets and a hat.

  When they got down to the port, a policeman wrote their numbers down, and they walked out onto the bustling street, where they hopped on a trolley headed downtown. They were balanced on the outside, holding on to an exterior rail, so they could hop off as soon as the inspector came for their ticket. The streetcar traveled slowly, and the traffic seemed worse than in Paris, Jacob thought. Double-decker buses made their way through the city, and the sidewalks were packed with well-dressed people.

  “Where do you want to go?” Andrea asked.

  “I think our parents are in Once or Balvanera. One of those neighborhoods,” Jacob said.

  “I’ll go ask how to get there.” Andrea asked one of the other passengers, and fifteen minutes later, the boys jumped off the trolley.

  “It’s southwest of here. We’ll take a bus to the Plaza Miserere.”

  Andrea moved about the city as if he had lived there his whole life. Jacob and Moses followed him like two blind men led by a seeing-eye dog. The bus took them to the plaza, and they started looking for Moreno Street. The buildings were not very tall, just two or three stories, and had balconies or terraces decorated with wrought-iron rails. Some had businesses on the street level. They were painted with lively colors, but the streets were calmer than the area around the port.

  The three boys stood in front of the number written on Jacob’s paper, and they studied the façade. The building was a bit old and could stand a fresh coat of paint, but the door looked new, with a pretty, colored window above the door frame. They stood there a while as Jacob and Moses hesitated, unsure whether to ring the bell. They were afraid of once again not finding their parents.

  Finally, Andrea sighed and knocked loudly at the door. They waited again and then heard the sound of bolts sliding back. A young woman looked out at them, curious.

  “What do you want, boys?” she asked.

  “We’re looking for Mr. and Mrs. Stein,” Andrea said.

  “Stein?” the woman asked, scrunching up her eyes.

  “Eleazar and Jana, they’re a German couple . . .” Jacob began. He had managed to get control of himself again. He dearly hoped his parents had not taken fake names in Argentina.

  “You mean the Ashkenazim? They moved a couple of months ago. They were living on the top floor, but I hardly ever saw them. They didn’t speak much Spanish. I’m Sephardic,” she explained.

  As she spoke, Jacob and Moses sank deep into themselves, hardly seeing the ground they were staring at. Finally, Andrea asked, “Do you know anyone who might know where they are?”

  “They didn’t have many friends, or at least if they did, they didn’t bring them around here. I think sometimes they would go to Café Izmir. It’s on Gurruchaga, in Villa Crespo,” the woman said, ready for the conversation to be over.

  “Thank you, ma’am,” Andrea said.

  As soon as they heard the bolts sliding back into place, Moses began to sob. Jacob hugged him and tried to calm him down.

  “Don’t worry, we’re going to find them. They just had to move for some reason.”

  “It’s late, but we could try looking for them at the café,” Andrea offered, trying to cheer Moses. “Then we should get back to the hotel.” Though Andrea could look and act tough, he knew what it felt like to be a long way from the people who loved you.

  The three boys walked back to a main avenue and took another bus. They were on Gurruchaga a short time later, in a neighborhood that was rather different from the one they had just left. Many of the storefronts had a Middle-Eastern look to them, and the aroma of tea and spices filled the air. As Jacob, Moses, and Andrea approached the café, they saw it was very different from what they had imagined a city café might be. A thick cloud of smoke enveloped them as they went inside. Turkish music wafted up from the back of the room, and people dined on little bites of meat and vegetables served with round, flat bread.

  The boys headed for the bar, where a girthy, dark-skinned man glanced at them out of the corner of his eye. He was used to boys sneaking in to rob clients or pocket food.

  He turned to them and asked, “What do you want?”

  “We need to ask some of the people in here about a man and a woman,” Andrea said.

  “Sorry, spaghetti. You’re not going to bother my clients.”

  Andrea frowned. “These boys are looking for their parents. We were told they used to come here a lot.”

  The man stared the boys down while taking a sip of very black coffee. Finally, he decided they were not ruffians after all.

  “What are your parents’ names?” he asked in a bored voice.

  “Eleazar and Jana Stein.” Jacob’s voice trembled as he pronounced their names.

  “The Germans? They didn’t talk much. Most people around here are Turks or from the Middle East. But they used to sit with Juan Prados sometimes—the playwright. He likes this place and comes by in the afternoons, but he’s already gone home,” the man said.

  “Could you tell us where he lives?” Jacob asked eagerly.

  “Somewhere by the Regio Theater, but I don’t know where exactly. If you come by any day around six o’clock, you’ll find him. He’s like clockwork.”

  The boys thanked him for the information and headed back to the Immigrant Hotel. They spoke little on the bus or the trolley. They crossed the wide street that separated them from the railroad, gave the policeman their numbers, and reentered the building.

  They went straight to the big dining room, having made it in time for the very last round of supper. Even so, the place was packed. Nearly a thousand people jockeyed for a place to sit. When all were seated, women carrying enormous pots started serving meat and potatoes. Andrea finished his plate and a second helping, then mopped up the dregs with a piece of bread.

  “
Tomorrow we’ll go back to that café. We’ll find that man, and surely he’ll tell us where your parents are,” he said to cheer up Jacob and Moses.

  “We’ve been waiting so long . . . We’ve traveled hundreds of miles and gone through countless cities to see them. I just don’t understand. It really feels like we’re never going to find them,” Jacob lamented. His shoulders dropped, and he buried his chin in his chest. Moses began to cry again, and Jacob no longer had the heart to try to comfort him.

  “Tomorrow you’ll figure out where they are. I don’t think my uncle will show up until the day after tomorrow, so I can help you look for them. Buenos Aires is big, but I’m sure we’ll find them,” Andrea said.

  “Thank you, Andrea. But maybe we should give up. The officer on the boat said there were shelters for Jewish children. We can stay at one of those and wait until they find us. If they get in touch with our friend in France, Mr. Perrot, he’ll tell them we’re here.” It seemed a reasonable conclusion to Jacob, who was out of ideas.

  “Well, still, we’ll go back to the café tomorrow afternoon,” Andrea insisted. Then he grabbed another piece of bread and started nibbling it.

  They went to the bathroom on their way out of the dining hall, and by the time they got to their dormitory most of the bunk beds were already occupied. The sounds of breathing, coughing, gas being passed, and snoring reached them. They went to their bunks and lay down.

  “Jacob,” Moses said, “can I sleep with you?” Jacob climbed down from the top bunk and lay down next to his brother. Moses was breathing hard, and his cheeks were wet with tears.

  “I can’t take it anymore. I can’t take it. I just can’t take it,” he said over and over.

  Joseph sighed. “Andrea’s right. We should try one last time. Steins never give up. You’re a Stein, aren’t you?”

  “Yes.”

  They put their arms around each other. Though they were no longer at sea, they still felt the waves rocking the boat, the ocean one great lullaby. They had been on their own for so long that sometimes Jacob believed they would never see their parents again. He prayed a short prayer that night. He did not know whether he should address the God of the Jews or the God of the Christians—he had hardly ever learned to pray—but he asked that God would help them find their parents. When he finished, he had the sensation that somehow, all throughout their long, lonely journey, they had never been fully alone.

  Chapter 32

  Buenos Aires

  September 11, 1943

  The Stein brothers let the clock run down as they wandered aimlessly in the hotel yards and stared unseeingly at the river. Andrea had a hard time shaking them out of their lethargy. How were these boys willing to throw it all away when they were so close?

  “The hardest fall an athlete will take is right before the finish line, but they get up again and finish the race,” he said to bolster them.

  Jacob thought back to all the people who had sacrificed themselves for him and his brother. He thought about Vipond’s dying in order to get them across the French border. He felt wickedly selfish. Why had he dared challenge fate? Why had he not settled for mere survival like the rest of the human race?

  Those months had held betrayal, unconditional love, disdain, falling in love, and the abyss of loss. He was no longer the boy who had left Paris hoping for a brighter future, longing to be reunited with his family. Now he was almost an adult struggling desperately to hold on to the final sparks of hope.

  After the noon meal, Jacob and Moses changed their clothes and looked for Andrea, whom they soon found playing cards with some of his countrymen. At first Andrea paid them little attention, but he eventually left the cards and walked with them to the trolley.

  “I didn’t want to come today. I know you’re down in the dumps, which is why you can’t see how lucky you’ve been. You managed to escape from the Nazis, you went across an entire country in the middle of a war, and you managed to cross an international border and a whole ocean. You’ve got each other and, besides, sooner or later, you’re going to find your parents. I’m all alone. I don’t know if I’ll ever see my family again or if I’ll ever go back to Italy.” For the first time they heard sadness in their new friend’s voice, his confident vigor dissipating with the smoke of his cigarette.

  “I’m sorry,” Jacob said, sighing. “You’re right. Though you have to understand what a blow it was to not find them yesterday. We were so hopeful. I’ve imagined it a thousand times . . .”

  “Of course I understand, but life isn’t the sum of our expectations. It’s the outcome of our decisions. If you’ve decided to find them, nothing’s going to stop you. I’m sure you’ll do it. But if you give up now, you might spend the rest of your life regretting that you didn’t keep trying.”

  The trolley came, and the three boys hopped on. They traversed a muted city covered in black umbrellas and gray raincoats. It looked like the saddest day in the world, but a few rays of sunlight filtered through the dark clouds when they arrived at Café Izmir.

  There were not as many people as the day before. That must be why the playwright preferred six o’clock, a quieter time before most customers came for supper. After a quick glance at the tables, they knew exactly which one Juan Prados was. He was a thin man with yellowish skin and a short beard. He held a book too close to his face, as if his glasses no longer worked.

  The boys went up to him slowly and stood near him for a while, not saying anything, until he finally looked up from his book.

  “Are you Mr. Juan Prados?” Jacob’s voice trembled again.

  Juan Prados raised his eyebrows, unaccustomed to being approached by strangers in public. “Yes, little squirt, and why do you ask?”

  “We don’t mean to bother you, but we’re looking for two people we think you know,” Jacob answered.

  Andrea was fed up with Jacob’s caution. He stepped forward and said, “Do you know where the Steins are living? These are their children, Jacob and Moses, who’ve come from France to find them, but they aren’t at the place they used to live.”

  Prados closed his book, set it on the table, and gave a slight smile. “Jana and Eleazar’s boys. I’ve heard of you. And you’ve come from France to find them? Dear boys . . . Rafael, bring some coffee for these squirts!” he hollered. Then he motioned for them to sit down.

  “So do you know where they are?” Moses asked impatiently.

  The playwright put his bony, ink-stained hands on Moses’s shoulders. “Yes, lad. Don’t worry.”

  The waiter arrived with coffee and set it on the table. Andrea, long accustomed to coffee, downed his in one gulp, but Jacob and Moses eyed theirs warily.

  “Come now, coffee is like life! A little bitter at first, but the last sip leaves you wanting more.”

  Jacob took a sip, involuntarily grimacing, but finished the cup.

  “Your parents are in Rosario, a city along the Paraná River. I got Eleazar a job at El Círculo, a theater. They were in rather dire straits here in the city. Sometimes Buenos Aires can be a good stepmother but a very cruel mother.”

  “Rosario?” Moses asked.

  “It’s where my uncle lives,” Andrea said.

  “It’s not too far, considering how big this country is. You can take a train there tomorrow. You could go on your own, but I’d feel better if I went with you. The good thing about being a writer is the only thing you’ve got in abundance is time, and plenty of it, kiddos.”

  “You’d take us to Rosario?” Jacob asked, his weary spirits starting to rise.

  “Sure. The Rosario train leaves at nine o’clock, and we’d get there around five in the afternoon,” Prados said.

  Jacob and Moses whooped for joy. They were back to believing everything was going to be okay. After talking with Juan Prados a bit longer, they left the café and walked back to the trolley instead of taking the bus.

  They were filled with joy, talking and laughing the whole way. The gray clouds had cleared away, and the stars were already shi
ning, shimmering with the news of their imminent reunion with their parents. They were so close!

  At the trolley, they sat down for the first time on one of the wooden seats and let the city caress their cheeks with the breeze coming in from the river. They hopped off as soon as they saw the huge building and ran to the entrance. They could hardly swallow their supper for all the talking and laughing. They went to bed late, trying to wear the clock down as much as they could. Andrea was very happy for them, but when it was time to say goodnight, just before entering their dormitory, he hugged them and, his eyes watering, asked them not to forget him.

  “We’ll never forget you, Andrea. You gave us the final push to find our parents. You gave us your kindness and your strength. And we’ll see you again,” Jacob said, sharing his friend’s sadness.

  That night they did not sleep a wink. Jacob and Moses huddled together, wide awake, until the morning. They wanted to get to the train station as early as possible, before dawn reminded them they were still far from their parents.

  Chapter 33

  On the way to Rosario

  September 12, 1943

  The morning light poured onto the giant Retiro station. The gray exterior in no way diminished the building’s magnificence. Jacob and Moses entered it as they would a sacred temple. Despite the hour, hordes of people ran this way and that. The Stein brothers felt miniscule and unimportant amid the crowd’s hustle and bustle. When they reached the platform of the train to Rosario and saw Juan Prados, they sighed with relief. They had feared any number of accidents might have forbidden him to travel.

  “I’m glad to see you’re timely, little squirts,” he said. “We’ve already got our seats.” Wearing an old suit, a light coat, and an English hunting cap, he led them to the car.

  They climbed aboard the second-class car. Though not luxurious, it was much more comfortable than the cattle car of their most recent train ride. Moses did not want to miss a single detail of their trip, so he settled in next to the window. He had seen so many things in the past few months that he wondered if the time would come when his eyes would wear out and he would be left blind. But so far, his eyes had not yet had their fill of seeing, nor his ears their fill of hearing.