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 shining, 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.