HER BLOND CURLS springing out from under her cap, she leafed through his papers. Despite the short olive-green skirt of her uniform, which showed off her beautiful legs, she seemed stiff and unsure of herself.
“Are you traveling to the Hungarian People’s Republic?”
“I originally intended to, but it turns out my vacation time is too short. The car’s been having serious problems. I didn’t want to risk going too far with it anymore. So now I’m on my way to Czech paradise, to hike and so on.”
The brunette with permed hair circled the car, her polished fingernails gave the hood a quick drum. “Customs control,” she said, and accepted his opened papers from the blonde.
“You’ve exchanged koruny for forints.”
“Did that a while ago in June. I’ll exchange the forints back.”
“What are you taking out?”
“Nothing, all the clothes are mine, some food, and eleven cigars. Personal use.”
“No presents?”
“No.”
After they had exchanged glances, the blonde stamped his papers, handed them back, and gave a perfunctory salute.
“Thanks,” Adam said and tucked his papers away in his shirt pocket. In the side mirror he watched the two curly-locked women in short skirts stalk toward the red Passat. Michael’s face looked as if it were pasted to the windshield. Adam started his engine and drove on to the Czech crossing.
“Dobrý den,” Adam replied and handed over his papers. He adjusted the rearview mirror.
Adam repeated the border guard’s “Na shledanou.” The barrier ahead rose. As he looked back the red Passat was being waved out of the line. Michael got out. A cluster of uniforms surrounded him.
After the first curve Adam fetched the box from the trunk, placed it on the passenger seat, and opened it. The turtle didn’t budge. While still an apprentice he had sped on his bicycle down this same splendid asphalt highway with its serpentine curves. At the bottom he found a parking lot and a little grocery that was closed.
Adam spread the road map out on the hood, setting the thermos at the top. From Teplice he had to drive to Lovosice, then straight ahead on the E15, which was also Highway 8, all the way to Prague. Even in the city, it was the No. 8 that he needed to stay on. He would cross the Moldau twice. If he found the right exit he would end up at Wenceslas Square. He folded the map so that he could hold it in one hand, and slipped it halfway under the box.
Adam poured the last of the coffee into the cup. If they had agreed on a meeting place, then it certainly wouldn’t have been Prague, but somewhere in the area, at the train station in Ústí nad Lebem, that way they would have been reunited quickly. But since it might be hours before Michael arrived, he decided to drive on. On the other side of Terezin he picked up two women who weren’t much older than he, but had gold teeth that made them look like grandmas. Each held on her lap a huge tin can filled to the brim with dark cherries.
The women were crazy about the turtle. Adam gestured for them to stay nice and calm and leave the animal in its box. The word ticho occurred to him. “Ticho.” Which sent the women into gales of laughter, and they cried, “Ticho, ticho!” themselves. The woman in the backseat pressed the turtle to her breast. Then they sang a duet for him, occasionally rubbed a cherry on their sleeves, and stuck it in his mouth. The turtle began to move its legs and stuck out its head. In Doksany they got out. The woman who had sat up front with him waved an open palm at the road ahead and cried, “Praha, Praha,” which set them laughing again, for no reason Adam could fathom. He spat a whole battery of cherry pits through the window onto the road, which inspired still more golden-toothed laughter before they finally walked away with their tin cans, but not a word of good-bye. He was about to follow them—the turtle was missing—but when he lifted the box he saw it. “Elfi,” he said as it drew its head into its shell, “there’s no reason to be afraid.”
He hoped to arrive in Prague not much later than Evelyn and Simone, but ended up in a detour at the edge of the city. He tried in vain to orient himself by the position of the Moldau and Hradčany Castle, but drifted through the city like a ghost, and noticed too late that he had passed Wenceslas Square. When he finally found a parking space it was already growing dark.
Adam scratched the turtle behind its head in an effort to calm it, put it back in its box, and tried to open Evelyn’s bag. After just an inch or two the zipper got caught, and he was afraid of ruining it, he advised all his clients against zippers—and was happy to be able to close it again without damage.
His shoulder bag with the camera under one arm, her gym bag over his shoulder, her hat on his head—he locked the car and set out.
It was a warm evening. He considered getting some ice cream, but wasn’t in the mood to stand in line.
Evelyn and Simone were sitting on the top steps of the monument’s pedestal—the horse’s head above them; suitcases, tent, and backpack in front—and gazing out over the square.
Evelyn looked at Adam as if she were trying to remember who he was. Simone had leaped to her feet. “How did you get here?”
“By way of the German Democratic Republic. They netted Michael.”
“Bastards, bastards, bastards!” Simone shouted.
“Where’d you get my bag?” Evelyn asked.
“Just sort of happened. I found—”
“What happened?”
“He was a little edgy about it, so I took it. They’ve got a nose for fear.”
“You’ve lost me,” Evelyn said.
“Before the border, a quick pit stop, and I took over the bag. What a couple of cuties, the women who did the once-over. Plus those pouty faces, as if it was our fault they have to run around in those getups.”
“Will you just tell it like it happened.”
“I waited, but thought it’d be better if I got here sooner, so that you’d know what’s up.”
“Did they arrest him?” Simone asked.
“Don’t think so, they’ll just frisk him.”
Evelyn took the bag. Adam tried to set the hat on her head. She dodged it. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he said, and hung the hat on her knee.
“Did they send you on ahead to track us down, Adam?” Simone stepped between him and Evelyn. “Is that your assignment?”
Adam hoped Evelyn would say something. She held her bag and hat on her lap and didn’t respond.
“ ’Course I’ve been assigned to you two. But especially you!”
“This is no time for jokes, so don’t make them.”
“Be glad I’m joking, because otherwise I’d slap your face.”
“You have no right to follow us, Adam. Isn’t that so, Evi? He has no right. Besides, you’re just making it all that much worse.”
Evelyn stared straight ahead.
“You can talk to me at least,” Simone said, crouching down beside her.
Pigeons landed on the hand of a man feeding them breadcrumbs. Simone made a disgusted face.
“How long does it take to drive from Bad Schandau to here?”
“Why Zinnwald? Was that your idea?”
“What do you mean, my idea? I said I was going to cross at Zinnwald. He was happy that all he had to do was follow me.”
Simone shook her head. Adam sat down below Evelyn, but a little to one side. After a while he got to his feet and walked back to the ice-cream shop. He returned with three bottles of Pepsi and three vanilla-and-chocolate cones.
“Just leave me alone,” Evelyn said without even getting up. Simone took one of the cones. When Adam had polished off the other two, he opened the Pepsis with his pocketknife.
“Don’t make such a face,” he said, after toasting them both. “Nothing awful has happened. If you like, you can spend the night in Heinrich, Elfi would like that.”
“Elfriede,” Evelyn said.
“Elfi suits her better, comes from ‘elf.’ There’s nothing to worry about. What have they got to hold him on? Nothing! They’ll harass him a little, that’s all.”
Adam stepped out in front of the monument and opened the leather case of his camera. But before he could even choose a stop, the two women had sprung to their feet.
“Don’t you dare!”
“Are you nuts, Adam?”
“You can’t just take our pictures!”
Adam lowered the camera. “Why not?”
“Because I don’t want you to. We don’t want you to,” Evelyn said.
“Put that thing away!”
Adam snapped the leather case shut and returned to his spot.
He was suddenly reminded of those two women with gold teeth and how they had brushed his lips with cherries. Behind dark blue streaks of clouds, the sky was bathed in a deep red glow, promising dry roads for the day ahead.