Chapter 45 Chapter Forty-Four

She jumped into his arms.The leather bag on the chain hit her on the hip.The heavy knocking, the tight hug, the passionate and eager kiss on her mouth, almost all of which were not felt, because she was already out of her body, her eyes were dazed. "Where is the younger son?" Byron asked her. She squeezed his hand tightly, unable to say a word, as if she wanted to gather all her surprise and mixed love into her tightly grasped grasp.She dragged him around the dark corridor outside the dining room and around a few turns.The back room of the flat was going crazy: it was a big bedroom, and the boys were laughing and chasing after the little girls, and the girls were screaming and hiding.A little girl was sitting on a bed, holding a child in a clean blue sailor shirt.

"There. He is your son." A chorus of voices came from the dining room: the little goat is a peddler, and so is the baby. Raisins and almonds, go to sleep, baby. Byron stood looking at the baby intently.When the children saw him, they stood still, and their tumult fell silent.Natalie restrained herself so much that she didn't cry, she just asked, "How do you feel?" "I think he looks like me." "God, what you say! He's a little statue made out of a mould." "Will he be scared if I hold him up?" "Try it!" Byron made his way through the silent children to the baby and picked him up. "Hi, boy. I'm your father."

The girl who let go of the child frowned because she couldn't understand English.Louis looked at his mother, then at his father, and put his little hands on Byron's cheeks. "He's a heavy boy," Byron said. "What did you feed him?" "I told you, you wouldn't believe it. Octopus. Gulls. Eat everything!" She didn't know the tears welling up in her eyes, he wiped her cheek with the back of his fingers, and she felt wet just now slippery again. "He's a man of the world already, you know. Don't know how much goat's milk and cheese he's been eating. Do you like him, Byron?"

"He's a great guy," Byron said. The other children were all watching and listening. No one whispered to each other, and no one smiled. All the little faces were serious and full of curiosity.Natalie seemed to see the Byron they saw in their wide, prim little eyes: a tall, sunburned Christian with a strong face, foreign clothes, and a leather The bag was chained to the wrist; he looked and spoke neither of their own, but held one of their own in his arms with the air of a father. "Come on. You've got to see Ellen first! Then we'll go to my room and talk, my God, we've got to talk! You've got to tell me how you found us, I've I'm so surprised that I can't close my mouth from ear to ear." She took the child over, and the leather briefcase dangled between the two of them. "Byron, what is this?"

"I'll tell you about it in a moment, too." Byron's appearance in the dining room caused a sustained, boiling sensation.The drunken Ellen was overjoyed, and excitedly explained to everyone in Yiddish—"Natalie's man is from the United States, the U.S. Navy!" A new seat was placed next to him, and they were given a course and a round of wine, and that emotional welcome song in Yiddish as Byron swallowed a few mouthfuls of food he didn't even want to eat— — all this takes time, but no one can deny the hospitality of the Jews. Natalie stood at the door with Louis in her arms, looking dazzled.He sat right among the Mendelssohns, her Byron.Henry.Eight fast-day candles were lit on the table, two of which she had lit herself—the most incredible spectacle that had ever occurred to her.Despite his obvious discomfort, he listened to the Yiddish congratulations coming from all directions, and he responded graciously and enthusiastically while listening to Jastrow's translation, while all present enthusiastically cheered. receive him.He is her husband.That's enough.He is also an officer in the U.S. Navy.Although the US Consulate rejected some people's visa applications, that's okay.Like the French, like most Europeans, they were waiting for the Americans to launch a counterattack against Hitler, just as their God-believing ancestors waited for the coming of the Messiah.They didn't seem surprised that Byron appeared in front of them suddenly like lightning.Americans are inherently superhuman.Surprises of all kinds were commonplace to these people anyway; life was in such chaos that no one thing seemed more surprising than the others.

She was touched by the difference in tears between Rabinowitz and Byron, the two men sitting side by side by candlelight because the power was out now.The stocky Palestinian, with his pale complexion and drooping shoulders, although he was calm now, his expression was a mixture of weariness, sadness, and determination. He and Byron were clearly not of the same race.Her husband had the bright-eyed, confident, childish look of an American.There were traces of new experiences on his face. As for what kind of experiences, we still have to listen to his introduction, but this Byron.Even if Henry lived to the advanced age of ninety, even if he lived a hard life, his appearance would never be the same as that of Avran.Rabinowitz looks alike.

"I'm sorry, it's time for me to leave." Byron stood up.They didn't hold back either, just a sound of goodbye.Natalie held Louis in her arms and led him into a small room covered with yellow-covered books on the walls.Mrs. Mendelssohn was taking Ellen's pajamas and dressing gown from the closet by the light of a long candle burning on the dresser.The double bed where Ellen usually sleeps has been newly made.Natalie's crib had been put away. "Your uncle has gone to sleep elsewhere, wish you a happy holiday, goodbye," she uttered the Yiddish string and walked away without giving Natalie a moment to smile, blush, or Say thanks.

"I don't understand a word," said Byron. "She's a very nice lady. How did that door lock?" "There are two bars," Natalie said hesitantly as she lowered a yawning Louis into the crib. "Okay, lock it." He used a key to unhook the chain from his wrist, and threw the bag on the chair casually. "I'm a temporary diplomatic courier, Natalie. That's why I've got this thing, that's why I'm here. My job is on a submarine maintenance boat in Gibraltar. I've been there since August. " "How did you get this job? How did you find me? And—oh, dear—"

"It's just a coincidence." He hugged her in his arms. She let him hug her tightly and kiss her repeatedly, even though she herself was almost numb, all she wanted was to make him happy.She remembered that if the couple were to rush into each other at once, the disgusting underwear she was wearing would be exposed to him; it was thick gray cotton, the only thing you could buy in Siena. Wear it with sows.She still had her cherished lingerie from Lisbon with her, but how could she stop him and let her change into it?Natalie would have liked to lie naked on the old carpet right away, her heart was filled with amazing admiration and gratitude, but there was one thing she couldn't do, that.It is lust.He came whizzing back into her life like a cannonball; unexpectedly his kisses stopped and his embrace relaxed. "Natalie, the doll is watching us."

Louis did stand up, clutching the crib rail with both hands, and looked at them both with vivacity. "Oh, never mind, he's just a one-year-old," she muttered. "He's as curious as an alkane bear." "Tane Bear, hell. He looks like he's writing it all down." Natalie couldn't help laughing. "Perhaps so, my dear. He'll have his turn one day, too, you understand." "Honestly, I feel awkward," Byron said, letting her go. "It's queer, but it's true. The doll has grown-up eyes." "Indeed, darling," said Natalie, trying not to make a sound out of her deep breath, "why don't I wash him up and put him to bed? You don't mind? We can talk for a while, maybe. Let me be closer to you."

"Very well, that's all. You think better than I do. I'm going to cover up the crib like a parrot cage." "You see, dear, you've got to make up your mind," she laughed again.Byron's banter with her always amused her, but her nerves were as tense as a lyre string. "The action evidently struck him as a great novelty." "I think so. Can he really walk and talk?" She took him out of the crib and put him on his feet.Louis staggered a few steps, looked up at Byron, and waited for his applause; "Well done, sweetheart. Now say something else." "Oh, then you don't understand him." She picked up Louis, stripped him and washed him in a sink in the corner of the room. "He babbled Yiddish and Italian and French all together." "I'd love to hear it." She gave him a sideways look a little shyly, and said, "You look so handsome." "You look even more beautiful." She felt sweet all over. "Where's your father? Where's Warren? Did you get any letters from them? How are they all?" "Warren? What's the matter? Didn't the Red Cross forward my letter? Warren was mentioned in my letter to Slote?" His harsh tone made her look at him with a frightened look in her eyes. "I got your last letter in May." "Warren's dead. He died at Midway." "Oh, oh! Honey—" "He got a posthumous Navy Cross." Glancing at his watch, Byron began to pace back and forth in the small room. "Look, the train to Barcelona runs in the middle of the night. It's four and a half hours before we leave. You've got to think about packing, Natalie. You don't have to take a lot of stuff with you. Lisbon is still very convenient for shopping." She felt baffled, "Pack up?" "Ellen has to wait here for the Consul General to complete the formalities for him. I'm going to take you and the child away." "What! My God, Byron, is the Consul General saying you can take us?" "We're going to them now." james.Gaiser was as eccentric as the Mendelssohn tenants.Marseille in the war years has become a hodgepodge of ups and downs: political dog fly camp, money grabbing, confusion of race and nationality, suffering and tragedy of refugees who have left their homes, and since the Phenicia The intrigues and intrigues that have been prevalent on the Mediterranean coast since the age of man, so that any bizarre plot twists and sinister stories pale in comparison with Geiser's routine.This refers only to his legal duties.As for his undercover activism with various resistance groups, it's just like a popular movie; just not as engaging, because it's a show that lacks eye-pleasing pornography.All in all, in his two years at Marseille he has seen, as he likes to say, almost everything. Having said that, Byron.Henry's story is also a new one. At this time, Gaither had changed into pajamas and pajamas, and a morning coat, and was writing the story in his diary when he heard a knock on the door.Standing at the door was Lieutenant Henry with a leather bag under his arm. "I'm sorry to disturb you, sir." "Are you here again?" "Sir, my wife and children are downstairs." "What! You're still walking on the street at this late hour, and you don't have any documents?" "Rabinowitz is with them," Byron said, glancing down at the Consul General's feet in pajama pants, "I'm sorry I'm breaking in now, sir." "Stop being polite. Tell them all to come up, quickly." Mrs. Henry came in with the child in her arms, and smiled at him knowingly.Although her clothes were old, her hair was not neatly combed, and she was in a state of bewilderment, one look at her made the romantic story of the submarine officer easy to understand.No wonder there is a man who traveled all over the world for her!The handsome baby she held in her arms was a swaddling replica of the lieutenant.Avran.Rabinowitz came in behind Mrs. Henry listlessly, looking unusually lethargic and restless. Byron was still explaining his plan vigorously, but Gaisel had already started to think about what words would best dispel his idea.It was a terrible idea, reckless and dangerous.Natalie was sitting on the side holding the baby, and he understood the young husband's impatience very well.Can only enlighten with kind words, he thought. "Lieutenant, our charge d'affaires at Vichy have obtained the exit visa. The direct telegram received today confirms it. We shall receive the visa any minute now. Maybe tomorrow if it is quick." "Yes, sir, you told me at supper. I've been thinking, and I still think, why I didn't take Natalie and Louis away right away. It's because I believe I can Take them with you on the plane to America." His wife cleared her throat, and her voice was hoarse and charming, "He's good at this kind of business." "That goes without saying, Mrs. Henry, but the trouble is getting across the border." Byron sat on the sofa next to his wife, tense and erect, though his demeanor was calm. "Sir, it is enough to show my diplomatic passport. Using it to deal with the routine of immigration officials is like cutting butter with a hot knife. You know that." "Not always. What if you run into a nasty French border inspector or a German spy? I've had it myself. There's a mix of both on that rail line. You've got a transit visa." Yes. Your wife and children have nothing." "I can brag." "What kind of bragging?" "The baby got very ill in Gibraltar. We sent him overnight to Marseilles. We didn't bother to get a visa. I told them in broken French. I would yell. I would act stupid, The look of a furious American official. I'm going to stick to my bragging, I can assure you." "But in their passports there is no Gibraltar stamp, no French stamp, only the Italian stamp from a few months ago." "Sir, all that trifle will be no problem, I assure you. I can handle it all." "Unfortunately there's a loophole in your bragging, I've never seen a doll grow stronger, Lieutenant. He couldn't have been in better shape." Louis, sitting on Natalie's lap, yawned with his mouth wide open like a crocodile.His complexion was excellent, and his blinking eyes were clear and bright. "He might have appendicitis or something, but it was a false alarm." Gaisel turned to Natalie. "Are you ready to help him prove his bullshit?" She was still hesitating, but Byron quickly interrupted: "Before the train reaches Perpignan, we have to rehearse what we are going to say, and remember it by heart. Please don't worry, sir." Gaiser called and asked for a consulate car and a driver. "How about a drink, all of you?" he asked. "It's cold tonight." "Thanks, we've got to keep our heads up," Byron said. "I want a drink," Natalie said. "thank you." "Me too," Rabinowitz said. While mixing drinks for everyone, Gaither was still thinking about it.Be kind and enlightening, he told himself.He walked up and down the room, holding a cocktail in his hand, his white hair was disheveled, and his morning eyes kept moving, "Lieutenant, I want to say something from my heart to your wife." "Excellent, sir." "Mrs. Henry, as I have said, there are agents of the German Gestapo on the trains and on the border. These people can make as much noise as they like on the trains. They don't care what the rules are. Rabinowitz knows that." A little. Your husband might actually be able to get you through. He's a man of his own, that's all right. But on the other hand, the German secret police have a sharp nose for Jews traveling illegally. These agents are all wolf-hearted. guy. Might pull you off the train, too." "She won't be taken away," Byron put in. "If she is, I'll go with her." "In case you are taken away," Gaisel continued to Natalie, as if he had not heard Byron, "your doll may be taken from your hands during your interrogation." Snatch it. That's what the Germans do." He saw a look of horror pass over her face, and then he said, "I'm not a prophet. I'm sure it's going to happen. But it's possible. You can't Say it will never happen. Once you fall into their hands, can you still use a set of deceptive lies to make them believe it is true?" She sat silently, her eyes were already red.He went on: "I can't protect you and the kids when you're in custody. We've had a ton of cases like this to negotiate - people with questionable US papers. Some are still in the police station Detained in Rivisart. A few, unfortunately, have gone to Rivisart." "Rivesart?" Natalie's voice choked, and she said the name to Rabinowitz. "French concentration camps," he said. Byron stood up, facing Gaisel. "You're scaring her." "I'm telling her the truth. What about you, young man? You're the one with the papers on you. Once your bragging gets caught, the German secret police can treat you like a liar and confiscate you." Your messenger bag, stab it open with a knife." Byron's face grew pale and dull. "It's a negligible risk," he said after a pause. "I'd like to try it." "It's not up to you to decide." Byron's tone became calm, almost pleading. "Don't scare people, Monsieur Gaisel. It's a safe bet, I promise. As soon as we cross the border and out of France, we'll be all right. You'll have to laugh yourself at all the fear. We Still have to give it a try." "I can't. I'm the head of American officials in the region, and it's my job to order you not to do that. I'm sorry." "Byron," said Natalie, in a hesitant voice, her eyes wide open in horror, "it will be a matter of days. You go. Go up to Lisbon and meet us." He was dazzled by her. "Damn it, Natalie, the Mediterranean is about to turn upside down. Gibraltar already has thousands of planes lined up, wingtip by wingtip. At the first sign of trouble, they'll seal the border." She seemed She looked at him as if she was in a desperate situation, as if hoping to get a word that could reassure her, but she couldn't hear it. "My God, my dear, we walked from Krakow to Warsaw, all the way around us were fighting, but you didn't even bat an eye." "We now have a Louis." Byron faced Avran.Rabinowitz. "Don't you believe we can get through?" The huddled, smoking Palestinian tilted his head and looked up at Byron. "Are you asking me?" "Exactly." "I am anxious." "What are you afraid of?" "I was dragged off by the Germans on the train to Barcelona." Byron stared at him for a long time. "So that's why you want me to come here first?" "Yes, that's exactly what it is." Byron slumped in a chair and said to Gaisel, "Give me that glass, sir." "I have to go," Rabinowitz said.He cast a last sombre glance into Natalie's eyes, stroked Louis' cheek, and left. Geiser refilled his glass with whiskey and soda, remembering the first article in the French-language anti-Semitic Le Yellow Book that he had flipped over on the train back from Vichy.The photographs were all taken at an exhibition organized by the French government in Paris called "The Character and Appearance of the Jew": large plaster casts with hooked noses, puffed lips, and protruding ears.louis.Henry was a complete misfit; but if the French immigration inspectors or the German secret police laid hands on him, he would be as Jewish as his mother.If the situation were not as it is now, Mrs. Henry, of course, could have crossed any frontier station without her husband, the lieutenant; a pretty woman, and a mother, and an American; Yes no problem!But the Germans had turned daily travel in Europe into a business in which the Jews risked their lives, like jumping from a tall building in flames.Even a few scraps of paper can make the difference between life and death; Geiser knows some Jews, their passports and exit visas are valid, but they all prefer to live in France because they dare not go to the border. German secret police meet. Gaisel handed them the glasses, and the room fell silent.To ease the tense atmosphere, he mentioned that he had sent several American pilots out of France on the train to Barcelona, ​​all disguised as fireworkers or train drivers.But they were tough guys, he explained, trained to escape, ready to deal with the Gestapo; but there had been a few mishaps.After the consulate's car arrived, Gaisel was once again a businessman.The train won't leave for another hour, he said.Twenty minutes is enough for Byron to get to the station.Does he want to be alone with his family?The chauffeur will fetch Mrs. Henry's luggage; now that she's here, she might as well stay and wait for the exit visa to arrive.Tomorrow morning he would send for Jastrow, and he would look after the three of them himself until they left for Lisbon.He himself would accompany them to the border, or send someone trustworthy to take his place. He led Byron and Natalie into a small bedroom and closed the door.Without looking at Byron, Natalie put the sleeping doll down on the bed and covered him with her own coat. "I didn't expect that from you," Byron said. She turned to him.He was leaning against the door, his hands in his trouser pockets, his legs crossed, just as she had when she first saw him hailing him from Jastrow's car in Via Siena. exactly the same. "You're mad." "Not necessarily. He frightened you. But now I think we could have gone. Want cigarettes?" "I stopped smoking a long time ago." "I recognize the brooch." "It seems like a million years since Warsaw left." "I want to wait for you in Lisbon, Natalie. I have 30 days of vacation, and I will use it to wait for you. I have to go to the consulate every day to inquire." His smile is extremely elegant, and it seems to be Far away in the sky. "I'm worried I won't be able to get the room we'll be honeymooning in Ishturil." "Try it." "Okay, I'll give it a try." So they recalled the past.Qatar.Esther's name also came out.Byron chatted about his order to report to the Moray and praised the Navy's new submarine.Natalie did her best to say it was interesting to listen to and to answer, but it was all boring.He didn't reach out to wrap her in his arms.She didn't dare to take the initiative by herself.Ashamed of her cowardice, she felt awe of him.Embarrassing doubts and fears weighed more and more heavily on her heart, and his heart-pounding deeds of searching for his wife became the most uncomfortable thing for them at this moment.But at this turning point where extreme joy turns into sorrow, what can she do?In the eyes of the Germans, and in the eyes of the Vichy French agents, the doll was a Jew.This fear was beyond Byron's comprehension.It was a rock upon which their marriage could be shattered, and there was such a rock. "I think it's time for me to hit the road," he said at last, calmly, and rising. This triggered Natalie's reaction.She rushed to him immediately, wrapped her arms around him tightly, and kissed him on the mouth again and again like crazy. "Byron, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, there's nothing I can do. I can't help Gayser. I think he's right. I'll be here in a week. Wait for me! Forgive me! Love Me, for God's sake! I'll love you till I die. Can't you trust me?" He answered her with soft kisses; and when he said that wonderful sad smile that had enchanted her from the first, "Why, Natalie, you and I shall never die Don't you know?" He walked to the bed and looked down at the sleeping baby with flushed cheeks. "Goodbye, sweetheart. I'm glad to see you." They walked into the living room together, shook Gaisel's hand, and he went.