Mutti had been born in Poland but she’d married across the border to a German man, Eva’s beloved papa, and after twenty years had been fully accepted in the village. She loved her homeland, though, and had taken her children to visit her family as often as possible. Karl had even been sweet on a girl just over the border.
When the Russian-German alliance had decided to divide Poland between them, however, it hadn’t taken Karl long to join the Polish resisters. That’s when things had turned threatening. Like most men, her papa had already been drafted into the army. He’d been gone barely a month when Karl had been declared an enemy. That had brought Mutti, with her Polish heritage, under suspicion. And Eva, too.
They’d received messages from Karl to be careful, to trust no one, and to prepare to flee if necessary.
Flee their home? It had seemed preposterous. Everyone in Ennis knew them. Eva was certain their neighbors would never turn on them.
But Mutti had heeded her son’s warning. She’d prepared Eva for escape, drilling her about what to do, and she’d packed food and maps for her. She hadn’t told her, though, that she meant to stay and hopefully distract the Nazi soldiers from following her daughter. So when Mutti had hissed at her to run, Eva had run. And run.
And run.
“Little Rock!”
Eva jolted to the present at the amplified announcement. “Little Rock with connections east and west. We’ll have a thirty-minute layover. Continuing passengers must reboard no later than six fifteen.”
They were allowed to leave this train?
Eva’s heart pounded like a drum in her chest. They must escape while they could! She lurched upright, reaching for her carpetbag.
“I don’t think we’re supposed to get off here.”
That girl again.
Eva looked over at the child, confused once more. And yet one thing was painfully clear. She must protect this child. She must get her safely to . . . to . . .
Anna frowned when the old woman didn’t answer but only stared at her, her pale blue eyes wide and yet foggy, as if she were all mixed up. “This can’t be Ennis already,” Anna went on, lowering her sandwich to the napkin on her lap. “My mother said I would have to ride the train all night, and it’s only six o’clock. I don’t think this is our stop.”
“No?” Miss Eva grasped her purse tighter, and for a moment Anna thought she was going to jump out of her seat and run down the aisle. The train began to slow down. What would happen to her if Miss Eva got off now? Would that frowning conductor man make her get off, too?
Even though she was scared, Anna forced herself to smile. “No, we don’t get off here, Miss Eva. Not yet. Some other people might be getting off, but not us. Not till tomorrow morning when we get to Ennis.” She picked up her banana. “Here. You can have my banana if you want. Bananas are good for you. That’s what Nana Rose always said. But she didn’t like me to eat it whole. She always cut it up in a little bowl and made me eat it with a spoon,” Anna rattled on, trying to distract the poor old lady. “And she always told me to chew very carefully so I wouldn’t choke on a big chunk. ’Cause one time when she was real little, my mother almost got choked by eating a banana.”
As if a switch turned on, Miss Eva’s eyes blinked, and that fast the fog in them cleared. “Ja. Once my boy, he nearly chokes on a cherry. I had to put him on my lap and pound his back until it flew out.”
Anna smiled in relief. She was okay again. “You have a boy?”
“Ach, my boy, Paulie. Very important he is these days. In the Air Force, like his father before him.” She smiled, relaxing her tight hold on her purse, and accepted the banana.
“Where’s his father?” Though Anna wanted to eat the banana herself, she gave it to Miss Eva. Anything to keep that lost look off her face.
“Oh, my Paul. He is Paul Senior, you see. But he died, let me think. Last year? No. Before that . . .” She looked off, her mouth moving as if she silently counted the years. “He died in 1990,” she finally said, her brow furrowed beneath her soft cap of white curls. “Can that be right?”
“That’s before I was born,” Anna said. “I turned ten in October.”
“Ja, me, too.” Then Miss Eva chuckled. “I mean my birthday is in October. But I will be seventy-six. No, seventy-seven.”
“Do you have any other children?”
“No.” She shook her head. “Just Paulie. He had just joined the Air Force when his father fell ill.” She paused, her gaze far away. “My husband was so proud of him. Paul was a chief master sergeant when he retired. But Paulie, he is an officer, a major.”
Anna took a bite of her sandwich. The train had slowed to a crawl as they neared the station. “Will he be there? You know, in Ennis?”
Like a wispy curtain falling over her face, Miss Eva’s expression turned vague, as if her real self wasn’t inside her anymore. “Paulie? In Ennis? Nein. No. I never take him to Ennis.”
Anna cocked her head. She’d never taken him to see his own uncle? “How come?”
Miss Eva shuddered. Anna saw it happen, like a wave going right through her. Like somebody shook her by the shoulders and it made the whole rest of her shake, too.
“How come? How come I don’t take my boy there?” Miss Eva’s eyes had gone dark, like Anna’s mother’s eyes when she was angry. Anna shrank back in her seat.
“Because there is no more Ennis,” Miss Eva spat out. “It is gone. The airplanes with the bombs—”
The brakes screeched as the train made its final approach to the station. Around them other passengers stood, pulling out backpacks and suitcases and tote bags, and queuing up to depart the train. But Anna and Miss Eva remained in place, both frozen by the old woman’s last words. Airplanes? Bombs?
Anna wanted to ask her about the bombs but she was afraid. Was Miss Eva confused about those airplanes that crashed into those buildings in New York? Or was she talking about something else, like a different place from a long time ago?
Nana Rose used to get stuck in her memories, and Anna was pretty sure that’s where Miss Eva was, too. A different place, a long time ago. It seemed like a scary memory, though, so Anna was afraid to ask too many questions. But one thing she was pretty sure of: if Ennis was gone, the train people wouldn’t sell tickets to go there. And anyway, her father lived there, so it couldn’t have been bombed away.
She felt in the pocket of her corduroy pants for the little note with her father’s address. He lived in Ennis. It was still there.
Anna decided to ask Miss Eva about something else, something happy. “When did you get married to your husband, Paul?”
“Christmas Eve, 1948.” She answered so quickly, so clearly that Anna took heart.
“Did you have a beautiful wedding dress and a veil and everything?”
“Ach, no child.” But she was smiling when she said it. “Things were very different back then. Germany was different after the war.”
“What war? “
Miss Eva’s eyes widened. “World War Two, of course. You know, with Hitler und Stalin und Mussolini?”
So that’s what her memory was about. Anna shook her head. “We never studied that war yet. Just the American Revolution so far. But maybe in the spring we’ll study it. I’m only in the fifth grade, you know.”
“Is no good, that war. No good.”
“But you got married,” Anna prompted.
“Ja, I get married. But that was after. After I got away.” She raised her palms up. Shaking her hands back and forth as if she were erasing that time from the blackboard of her memory. “Paul, he would not have liked me in the war. I was too skinny. But I ate and ate after, and when we met I was plump and pretty again . . .”
She trailed off, staring past Anna to the window and across the several tracks that paralleled their train. “Paul was like me, he liked to eat. He never let me be hungry again. Never.”
Her gaze returned to Anna. “Are you hungry, child? Shall we go and get some food?”
“I ate my sandwich. And you have that banana.” Anna gestured to the banana in Miss Eva’s lap.
“Oh, yes.” She smiled and began to peel it. “Danke, Liebchen.” Then she took a bite and chewed it slowly, her smile never fading. “Das ist gut. Sehr gut.”
A fresh wave of passengers was filing into the train car, and it made Eva nervous. And when the doors closed and the train jerked to its slow, straining start, panic seized her by the throat.
Is all right. You are safe now. You are safe now, she repeated. But the banana she’d eaten weighed heavy in her belly.
Trying not to be too obvious, she studied the people around her. A Hispanic family sat in front of her. Across the aisle a foursome of young people traveled together, noisy and exuberant. Naive and oblivious to the traps yawning around them, as she once had been. But no more. She turned to her right, pretending to check on the girl who was curled up—no, engrossed in a book. Really, though, she wanted to see who sat behind them. An old man with vague eyes accompanied a middle-aged woman with her hair tucked up in a tall knit cap. Twisting around, she saw opposite them a skinny young man sitting alone, punching his finger at something in his hand. A telephone, she realized when he held it up to his ear. A telephone! Imagine that.
“Is this seat taken?”
Startled, Eva looked up to see a soldier facing the man with the strange telephone, a short young man, obviously American judging by his uniform. No, her uniform. A woman soldier!
“Gott in Himmel,” she muttered, her heart jackhammering in her chest. The woman soldier dropped her duffel bag on the floor and sat down not two feet across the aisle from her.
Eva tried to swallow her fear, but it stuck in her throat, a huge knot of horror. A soldier here, right next to her. And a woman. When had the Nazis begun drafting women?
Her purse slid from her frozen hands and landed in the aisle. “Nein,” she cried as the soldier bent to retrieve it. “I get it myself.”
“Sure. Whatever.”
As the soldier stowed her own bag, removed her jacket, and settled into the aisle seat, Eva stared straight ahead. She’d been found out! They thought she would be fooled because the soldier was a woman.
Except . . . She was an American soldier. Like her Paul. And Paulie.
Or was she? It could be a Nazi trick.
Her heart began a maddening race, an irreverent tattoo, and she suddenly felt so weary. So old and lost. But she remembered to cough, and exhaled with relief when her mocking heartbeat leveled off.
Why did she let herself get so mixed up? It wasn’t the 1940s anymore. That war was over and women soldiers were common. Eva took a shaky breath and tried to relax. Everything was okay.
Anna had noticed Miss Eva’s panic when the lady soldier sat down across the aisle. Why was Miss Eva so afraid of people in uniform? But she had her eyes closed now. Maybe she would fall asleep.
Sighing, Anna pulled her feet up onto the seat and rested her cheek on her knees. She was bored and tired of reading, but not tired enough to go to sleep. How much longer until they arrived? Not that she was ready to arrive in Ennis. She was probably the only person on the whole train going to a place she’d never been before. Would she have her own bedroom? Would there be a Christmas tree? Where would she go to school when the Christmas break was over?
Her chin trembled and her throat felt all strangled like. What if her father hated her? What if she hated him, too?
She’d made him a Christmas card. Not a very good one, because her mother didn’t have any colored markers to draw with, only a blue pen and a red one. And she’d had to use plain lined notebook paper. Even though she’d cut off the part with holes, it still looked just like what it was, a folded piece of notebook paper with a blue Christmas tree and red snowflakes. Not very pretty. Not very special.
She must have slept, lulled by the pleasantly overheated train car and the soothing rhythm of the train, because when she woke up it was snowing. Beyond the windows everything was white—fields, trees, roads. The wire fence that paralleled the tracks looked like three white lines drawn in front of the rest of the world, regularly punctuated by dark posts, each wearing a cap of snowy white.
They weren’t going very fast, she realized. Were they coming to the next town? She yawned, then stretched and looked around. She needed to go to the bathroom. And she was hungry again.
Beside her, Miss Eva’s breathing came in soft, even snores, little old-lady puffs of breaths, like Nana Rose’s when she fell asleep in her recliner in front of the television. Anna hated to disturb her. Did that soldier-son of hers know his mother was taking a train trip back to where she grew up? Anna hoped someone in Ennis knew Miss Eva was coming. She’d said she had a brother, so he must know. Sometimes, though, old people got confused, like Nana Rose did at the end. And Miss Eva already seemed kind of confused. Like she was afraid when that soldier sat down by her. And before that, she thought the train conductor was a soldier, and it scared her. But her son was a soldier, and so was her husband. So how come she acted so scared of soldiers?
Right in front of Miss Eva’s seat a little boy knelt, gripping the seat back and peering at Anna with bright black eyes.
“Hi,” Anna whispered, finger-waving at him.
Instead of replying he pushed a battered Raggedy Andy doll up so that Anna now had two pair of bright eyes watching her. She grinned at them both. “Hi, Andy.”
“Hi,” came the muffled reply.
“Are you going on a Christmas trip somewhere?”
“Uh-huh.” Andy bobbled up and down. Then, “To see Santa.”
“Ooh, Santa.” Anna raised her eyebrows high. “Lucky you.”
“Uh-huh.” The little boy shifted higher so Anna could see his whole face. “This is the train to Christmas. You goin’ to see Santa, too?”
Anna knew the truth about Santa. After all, she was ten years old. But she still remembered how nice it used to feel to believe in him. She nodded. “Yep. I’m going to see him, too. On the Christmas train.”
They both looked up when the train whistle blew and the brakes caught with a low, screeching moan. “Juan, turn around and sit down,” his mother said. “We’re almost there.”
With a sudden jerk Miss Eva woke up. “Mutti. Mutti!”
“We’re on the train,” Anna said, grabbing her arm before she could lurch upright. “It’s all right, Miss Eva.”
Juan’s mother twisted around to look at them. “She is okay?”
“She’s just dreaming. About her mother,” Anna added on a guess. “She’s fine, though. Aren’t you, Miss Eva?”
She stared hard at Miss Eva, willing her to please be okay. Because if she wasn’t okay, Anna didn’t know what to do. “We’re on the train, remember? Going to Ennis,” she prompted.
And like a lightbulb switching on, Miss Eva went from foggy and afraid, to alert and smiling with anticipation. “Ja, to Ennis.” Then her faded blue gaze fastened on the little boy and his Raggedy Andy. “Hello, Liebchen. Fröhliche Weihnachten,” she added with a lilt in her voice.
“Is that German for Merry Christmas?” Anna asked.
“Ja.” She smiled at Anna. “Did you know the Christmas tree comes from Germany? Und many Christmas carols also.”
“Feliz Navidad,” the little boy began to sing. “Feliz Navidad.”
“Shh, shh.” Juan’s mother turned to hush him. But seeing Miss Eva and Anna’s smiles, she smiled back and ruffled her son’s silky hair. “He loves the Christmas,” she said in accented English.
“Me, too,” Anna replied.
“When you can be at home with the ones who love you, it is sehr gut,” Miss Eva said, happiness radiating from her face.
Anna was relieved to see her clearheaded and not afraid. At the same time, though, Miss Eva’s word
s reminded that she didn’t have anyone who loved her. The little boy had his mom and dad, who were now gathering up their belongings as the train eased into the station. Most of the people on this train were probably visiting someone they loved for the holidays. Like Juan said, this was the Christmas train.
But what was so great about Christmas if all you had were parents who didn’t want you?
Anna waved good-bye to Juan. The conductor came through after the departing passengers had cleared out, checking the seats for trash and forgotten belongings. “Twenty-five-minute layover,” he announced. “We depart for points north at eleven fifty sharp. Eleven fifty sharp.”
Anna waited until he passed through to the next car before standing up. “We should use the bathroom while we’re stopped. Okay?”
She let Miss Eva go first, waiting in her seat, swinging her feet back and forth so that the toes of her shoes tapped the seat in front of her. Miss Eva lumbered along, her carpetbag thumping against her left hip with every step. She held on to that bag as if it were full of gold. No, gold was too heavy. Maybe diamonds, Anna speculated. Or money. Lots and lots of hundred-dollar bills.
Or maybe she held on to it so tight because that was all she owned, her clothes and some extra shoes and a nightgown. Like Anna. She reached down to touch her backpack, tucked under her seat.
Outside, in the circles of light cast by the streetlights, snow fell like a silent, white, dotted-swiss curtain. This side of the train faced a wide road with buildings and parking lots in front. Snow covered everything, piling high over the whole world. Only a few cars went by on the slushy road, their lights bobbing and reflecting against the snow.
She pressed her palms against the ice-cold window, then smeared her hands in circles against the condensation. What was that Christmas carol Nana Rose liked so much? “I’m Dreaming of a White Christmas”? Anna could almost hear her singing it like she used to every time it snowed. Nana Rose had loved to sing: Christmas carols, church hymns, and songs by her favorite singers, Frank Sinatra and Tony Bennett. Anna had been the only girl in the fifth grade who knew who those guys were. And Rosemary Clooney, and Patti Paige, too.
The Christmas Train Page 3
