In the silence of the church Rebecca remembered, too, the relief and joy she had felt in holding her babies, and in touching their perfect little bodies. Her voice echoed softly around the dark empty church. “I’m so sorry.” She had never meant to hurt them, it was beyond her control.
She thought of Sasha, and for a moment was panic-stricken: sweet innocent Sasha. She remembered wanting Sasha to see what she had seen, but then, she had not understood why. She wanted Sasha to see the burning babies in the hidden compartments in her mind. She had wanted Sasha to understand. Rebecca let out a long moan, remembering how she had frightened her daughter, frightened Louis, poor dear Louis. He was such an innocent, how could a man who had led such a pampered, charmed existence be expected to understand? He had only wanted her to love him—but Ruda’s pull was stronger.
She sat back, feeling the hard wood of the church pew against her back. The red, green and blue panes of the stained glass window sparkled in front of her. She stared at the colors…she heard his voice, that soft persuasive voice and the music…He played the same Wagner recording over and over, he even whistled it as he walked through the camp, he used to hum it to her when he laid out the cards…
“Clear your mind of everything, look at the cards, red, green…look at the cards, there’s a good girl, now more cards…”
The white gloves snapped down the colored cards. At first she had liked the game—it was fun, and Papa Mengele had kissed and cuddled her when she remembered each one. When she could transmit the exact colors to Ruda he rewarded her with chocolate, breaking off pieces, popping them into her mouth.
Then the games had become frightening. She was forced to transmit more and more colors. At first it had begun with just three cards, next day six. She found it hard to concentrate, she was hungry. Once she said she couldn’t remember them because she was hungry, then she had been force-fed until she was bloated. Now, he had told her, you are full. Now show me how clever you are. This time there were twenty cards, this time, because she was frightened, she had concentrated as hard as possible. These sessions went on every day and gradually Rebecca was able to transmit telepathically to Ruda up to twenty-five colors.
If Ruda made a mistake, she would be punished. They told Rebecca that it was her fault, that she was hurting her sister. One day Papa displayed fifty cards, and Rebecca started to cry. Papa drew back the curtain then and made her see what she had done to Ruda. Ruda sat on a high chair with things clipped to her head. A nurse held her up.
Vebekka rubbed her temples, staring at the stained glass. It began to blur, her head throbbed. She was trying to reach Ruda, just as she had done as a child. Vebekka started to cry. She could not hope to reach out to her, it was too late. If only Rosa had understood, had not been afraid, if only she had allowed Rebecca to open up the past, then she might have been able to find Ruda. Instead, she had buried Ruda alive.
♦ ♦ ♦
Ruda double-checked the props. Next she went to the meat trailer and asked if all the cats had eaten. She was on her way to Mamon’s cage when she remembered the time. The public would soon be starting to line up. As she started back to the trailer, suddenly her head felt as though it would burst open. She gasped with pain and leaned against the side of a trailer. Ruda forced herself to carry on, telling herself she hadn’t eaten. That’s what it was, she had to have something to eat.
Torsen arrived at Freda’s apartment building, ran his fingers through his hair, and rang the bell. She opened the door before he had finished buzzing. She had her coat over her arm, and her purse in her hand. Freda asked whether his use of the patrol car meant he was on duty. He shook his head. As they drove off he explained they were to pick up his sergeant and a girlfriend.
The two couples talked animatedly, looking forward to the show.
“How was my father today?” Torsen asked Freda.
“Well, he was very well at breakfast, but then it was snowflake time again.”
Rieckert asked what she meant, and Freda explained, pulling a little bit of tissue from her purse, licking it and sticking it on the end of her nose, then blowing it off. “He does it for hours until the floor looks like there’s been a snowstorm.”
Rieckert laughed, nudged Torsen, and said it could be hereditary.
Torsen seethed. He would have to speak to Freda about this snowflake business, it wasn’t funny. As Rieckert started to mimic his father in the backseat, Torsen got more and more uptight.
“If it were your father, you wouldn’t think it was funny! It is not funny!”
Rieckert blew a fragment of tissue off his nose. “I agree! But it’s one hell of a hobby!”
♦ ♦ ♦
As the baron and Helen continued walking, they passed one of the circus ads. Helen stopped dead and looked at the face surrounded by lions. Louis turned back as she pointed to Ruda Kellerman’s name. “Ruda,” she repeated, and then ran to hail a passing taxi.
Louis was a step behind her. “Why a taxi? The man said she was walking!”
Helen bent down to the driver. “The circus, please take us to the circus!”
♦ ♦ ♦
The parking lot was filling up: Crowds walked from the train stations and buses deposited parties near the fenced perimeter. Children waited impatiently to have their photograph taken while they sat on top of the elephant. Clowns passed leaflets and sold balloons. Speakers blasted music, and two majorettes in red sequined costumes paraded up and down banging their drums.
Ruda sat in the bedroom wearing her boots and white trousers. Her body wouldn’t stop trembling. She pressed her hands together. They were wet with perspiration. She had never felt this way before, and she was beginning to get frightened. Luis ran into the trailer.
“Standing room only, it’s pandemonium out there. Come and see the crowds, they’re about to use the laser beams, it’s one hell of a sight…come and see!”
“Luis, something’s wrong with me, look, I’m shaking, I don’t know how to stop it!”
He took her in his arms. “It’s just nerves. They are coming to see you, Ruda. Look—your face is on every poster, your face, your act.
Ruda heard the roar of the crowd as Luis opened the trailer door.
“Jesus Christ, Ruda! Look at the laser beams. My God, I’ve never seen a show like this, that old bastard knows how to draw the crowds!”
High in the sky, in brilliant colors, the lasers wrote:
RUDA KELLERMAN,
THE MOST FAMOUS FEMALE WILD ANIMAL TRAINER
IN THE WORLD.
RUDA KELLERMAN, RUDA KELLERMAN, RUDA KELLERMAN!
Rebecca quickened her pace, buffeted along by the crowds heading toward the circus. Even if she wanted to turn back she would find it nearly impossible. She had an overpowering urge to run. Suddenly, the stream of people ahead began pointing upward to the laser beams. They gasped and called out, still surging forward, now with faces tilted skyward. But all Rebecca saw was the name Ruda. She could hear a child’s voice calling out, screaming “I’m here, I’m here, I’m over here.” Lost among the milling people, a little girl screamed for her mother, but to Rebecca it was a sign, a symbol. She had to get to the front of the crowd. “Let me through, please, please let me pass…”
♦ ♦ ♦
Ruda stood in the open door of her trailer, staring at the sky. Slowly she looked back to the crowds. Thousands of people were milling around, eating cotton candy, carrying balloons, surging toward the massive triple-ringed tent. There was someone else there, too. She could feel it with every nerve in her body.
♦ ♦ ♦
Rebecca stood with her face pointed at the sky, her head spinning at the blazing name: Ruda Kellerman! She began to head frantically toward the trailer park. A man at the gate was about to stop her, then waved her through with an apology. He thought she was Ruda Grimaldi.
♦ ♦ ♦
Luis looked up with a proud smile and turned to Ruda. She stood motionless in the ope
n doorway.
“Are you okay, honey?”
She stared ahead. He asked again if she was all right, but she didn’t answer, she couldn’t. She didn’t hear him, because standing within yards of her was Rebecca.
Rebecca could not move, she could hear no sound, no voices, nothing. All she had eyes for was Ruda, framed in the doorway. The sisters had not seen each other in forty-four years.
Luis was not sure what was happening. He could see the tall elegant woman, but from far away he couldn’t really distinguish her features. “Who is it?” he asked, as Ruda stepped down from the trailer. He watched as the woman moved closer and closer. She moved into the lights of the trailer windows.
Shadows played across her face, but he caught a glimpse of her eyes. They were Ruda’s eyes, and he knew then. He was dumbstruck. All he could do was stand and look on as Ruda and the woman approached each other, oblivious to everything that surrounded them.
There was one step between them. They were the exact same height, but Ruda was more powerful. Her body blocked Rebecca from Luis’s view. He moved sideways, but all he could see was Ruda’s back. It was as if she were protecting her other self.
They did not speak as their hands moved to touch each other’s face. But they said each other’s name in their minds, in unison, as they melted into each other’s arms.
Way past their heads, past the parking lot, out on the road leading to an entrance, Luis saw the ominous blue flashing light of a police car. “Please, dear God, no,” he thought. “Please don’t let them have come for Ruda, not now, not tonight.”
Chapter 19
They lay together like long-lost lovers, devouring each other’s face with their eyes.
They felt the wild beating of their hearts. They had so much to tell each other, to ask, and yet they could not break from the embrace. Little by little Ruda released her hold on Rebecca, then rolled over to lie on her back. She felt Rebecca shudder.
“No, don’t, don’t cry, please don’t.”
It took all Ruda’s willpower to let go of her sister. She moved away from the bed and reached for one of the posters on the wall. She turned to Rebecca, holding it up for her to see.
“This is me, Ruda Kellerman.”
“I am…” Rebecca’s lips trembled. She couldn’t say her name.
Ruda held out her hand. “Come. Come with me!”
Hand in hand, they looked at the photographs on the walls. Ruda pointed, speaking softly, in odd descriptive sentences, and then their psychic communication began.
“Chicago, London, Florida…”
Rebecca nodded. Ruda would begin a sentence and Rebecca would finish it.
Their voices took on a childish lilt, and their words were no longer spoken only in English but in a mixture of languages: German, Polish, Czech, even in their own private language. Every movement was mirrored by the other. When Rebecca put her hand to her cheek, Ruda automatically touched hers. They were in a world of their own.
But the outside world was closing in. The showground was a heaving mass of bodies. The parking lot was jammed to the bursting point. There were lines of people waiting to buy ice cream and circus souvenirs. More lines formed by the ladies’ and men’s toilets, and the mass of ticket-holders surging toward the big tent entrance was four to five abreast.
Luis pushed his way toward the stream of cars. He could still see, about half a mile ahead, the police car with its flashing blue light. He had made up his mind what he had to do and say. He ran toward Inspector Heinz’s patrol car.
Torsen was red-faced. Twice he had turned off the flashing light, but Rieckert had shouted that unless they used it, they would not make it in time for the opening parade. Rieckert was as excited as a child, urging Torsen on, poking him in the shoulderblade. “Go on, put the siren on, make them pull over.”
Torsen banged the steering wheel. “Look, there are hundreds ahead of us. They won’t start the show, it’s not due to begin for another three quarters of an hour. We just have to wait like everyone else!”
Freda turned to the backseat. “He’s right—we’ll get there. They won’t start the show before everyone’s seated. Look up ahead, you think they won’t let everyone inside first? Just sit back and enjoy the fireworks!”
Their car inched forward. It was frustrating to see passersby go past on foot. Then the line came to a complete standstill. Up ahead a car had overheated, and there were roars of laughter and calls of abuse as four young boys tried to push the car over to the side.
Far back in the long line of cars was a taxi. Louis and Helen began to think they should turn back; after all, it was a long shot. Yet Vebekka was looking for her sister Ruda, and a Ruda Kellerman was starring in the circus. There was a good chance…
Helen suggested they get out and walk. Louis agreed, but the driver argued, since he could not turn back. Louis gave him a generous tip, and the well-dressed couple began to hurry alongside the cars.
The rain started, lightly at first, but after a while it began to come down steadily, so now umbrellas added to the crush. Torsen could see Luis Grimaldi coming toward him, and he lowered his window. Luis was soaked, his hair wringing wet, and he was out of breath as he called out:
“Inspector! Inspector!”
Torsen smiled, and turned to Freda. “This is my friend Freda, I think you know Sergeant Rieckert.”
Rieckert leaned forward to shake Grimaldi’s hand. “I keep telling him to put his siren on, just to get us through the crowds. Will they start on time?”
Grimaldi looked puzzled, but then Torsen waved his tickets. “We have complimentary seats, Mr. Grimaldi, front row. Will everyone get in, do you think?”
“Yes, yes. There are always enough seats or, if not, there’s standing room. The show may be held ten, fifteen minutes—it’s not usual. So…you are just here for the performance?”
Torsen nodded, slammed his foot on the brake as they almost ran into the back of the vehicle in front. “I am looking forward to seeing your wife’s act.”
Grimaldi walked away, relieved, and hurried back to the trailer. He churned over how narrowly he had avoided making a fatal mistake: The inspector wasn’t coming for Ruda, he was there for the show. He gave a mirthless laugh. As he scraped the mud from his boots, he remembered again Torsen’s query regarding Ruda’s old boots. He sighed. Best, he told himself, just to ignore it.
Luis banged on the door and let himself in.
The women turned toward him. Ruda smiled. “This is my…”
“Sister,” said Rebecca.
Ruda’s cheeks were flushed, her eyes brilliant. Her mouth was tremulous, quivering.
They spoke as one: “We are sisters.”
Luis found the way they moved together and spoke in the same high-pitched singsong voice disconcerting.
“We are twins.”
“Twins,” repeated Rebecca. They both lifted their right hand, touched each other’s cheek, and laughed.
Luis looked from one to the other. “But—you’re not identical.”
They sat down at the same time. Crossed their left leg over the right. Ruda leaned forward, Rebecca leaned forward. “We were, but Rebecca…”
“I had my nose done.”
Luis poured himself a brandy. When he offered them a drink, they shook their heads and said “No,” in unison. For a moment he wondered if they were playing some kind of game.
“Just remember, Ruda, you’ve got a show to do!”
They talked together, heads very close. They made soft shushing sounds and words he could not make out. Then they both looked toward him.
“Rebecca wants to see…”
“The show.”
Their eyes were identical in color. So were their lips, their cheeks.
Luis felt uneasy. “I see the likeness now. I see it.”
They nodded, smiling as if very pleased.
Luis looked to Rebecca: “How did you find Ruda?”
Ruda answered. “She went to the church in the city.”
“The lights…”
“Yes.”
There followed a conversation that Luis could not make heads or tails of. He heard them say the name “Magda,” then watched as they both put their hands over their faces and laughed.
Luis leaned forward. “Ruda, keep an eye on the time.” She ignored him. Luis got up and looked out of the window. “The lines are thinning out.”
Their eyes seemed to follow him around the trailer. He sat down again, then half rose. “Do you want to be alone?”
He saw the way they pressed closer and he sighed, looking at Rebecca.
“Ruda must get ready.”
They stared back, with their identical wide eyes. He sipped his brandy. “Where are you from? I mean, do you live in Berlin?”
Ruda answered that Rebecca was staying in a hotel. “Her husband is called…”
They both said “Louis!” and then giggled, bending their heads.
They were beginning to irritate Luis. He drained his glass. “I’ll go and check on the boys.”
As he opened the door, he asked, almost as an afterthought: “Do you work in a circus, Rebecca?”
“No,” said Ruda. “Mother,” they both said.
“I’m sorry?” Luis didn’t understand.
Ruda said her sister was a mother. Rebecca nodded, and shrugged her shoulders. “I am just a mother.”
Luis had his hand on the door handle. He wanted to leave them, and yet there were so many questions he wanted to ask. “Does she know where your parents are? I mean, if they’re alive?”
They both looked to him, turned to each other, then back to him.
“For God’s sake, stop this! You’re acting crazy, Ruda. I mean, can’t she speak for herself?”
“Yes,” they both said, and Luis yanked the door open.
Then Ruda answered solo.
Entwined Page 41
