The headlamps cut a large swath of white light through the darkness, and the forest, which reached right up to the road, seemed full of shadows. Trees suddenly loomed tall, then merged with the darkness and disappeared.
Franz was driving at near maximum speed. He was nervous and agitated. I definitely have to be back within the hour, he thought. This is the first time I’ve taken the car on my own and it’s going to be the last time, too. I’ve never even had Gertrud out for a spin. But a thousand marks … a thousand marks!
A car came from the other direction and he quickly lowered his beam.
He was worried. I’m risking everything, he thought. All on account of a rich Jew. But a thousand marks. Besides, Gertrud would have considered me a coward, and God knows I’ve already been through enough. If everything works out we’ll be in good shape. That girl has more courage than a lot of men. And the poor fellow in back? He may be a rich Jew, but these days things aren’t exactly rosy for him, either. I might even feel sorry for him if I had the time. For now the thing to do is take the thousand marks and marry Gertrud. It’s almost enough to make me want to take a rich Jew to the border every week! For a thousand marks!
And if I get caught? Then it’s all over. They’re not going to let me off a second time. Still, I’ve risked my neck so often for nothing except the cause, so why shouldn’t I dare to do something for myself, just once?
He stopped the car. Then he turned to Silbermann, who was sitting in back: “Here’s the best place to get out. I know the area a little. Earlier I helped some comrades get across. I didn’t take money for that.”
“Naturally,” said Silbermann as he got out.
“That’s right,” said Franz. “Frankly, I’m not so keen on the Jews myself. I had a Jewish boss earlier on. And he didn’t exactly make me jump for joy, let me tell you. Believe me, this is the first time that I’m taking money for helping someone. And if it hadn’t been for Gertrud and if she hadn’t twisted my arm, we wouldn’t be here…”
“It’s all right,” said Silbermann. “You don’t have to hold it against me that you’re helping me.”
“I don’t hold it against you. But Gertrud, she has a way of getting you to do things…”
“Franz,” Silbermann said, trying to calm him down, “just be glad. Here’s your money. And give your fiancée my greetings and tell her I wish her all good luck.”
“You better wish that for yourself,” said Franz sullenly, as he pocketed the money without counting the bills. “Because frankly this isn’t going to be easy! Just keep heading straight. You’ll come across a fire lane, but keep going until you reach the forest path. That’s where the border is, but you have to keep going! Eventually you’ll come to a road, but just keep on going straight ahead across the fields! If you hurry you’ll be in Belgium in half an hour.
“Watch out for the Belgian gendarmes, and be sure you get to the nearest larger town as fast as you can. If they call out to you while you’re still on German soil then stop, otherwise they’ll shoot, you can bet your suitcase on that. Speaking of which, you really should have left it at home. Who on earth tries to cross the border with a suitcase—I’ve never seen anything like it. I’m surprised you’re not hauling a furniture van as well!”
After carefully absorbing his grumpy driver’s observations, Silbermann asked, “Do you think I’ll make it?”
“That’s a question I can’t answer,” said Franz. “I’ve already told you how things are. One person gets through and another doesn’t. But if you’re going to piss your pants right here there’s no way you’re going to make it. I’ve heard that they’ve beefed up the border patrols on the Belgian side. If they catch you you’ll get sent right back, that’s for dead sure! Now hurry up and good luck! And if you get caught please say you came all this way on foot. But I bet you’ll rat me out first thing, am I right! You upstanding citizens are all alike.”
“Have you ever crossed the border?”
“Have I ever crossed it?” Franz laughed.
“I’ll give you another thousand marks if you take me across. I’m afraid I’ll lose my way. I don’t have any experience…”
“I see. And what did you promise my fiancée?”
Silbermann nodded. “You’re right,” he said uneasily. “I’ll have to manage on my own.” He held out his hand. “Good-bye.”
“I can see it coming,” Franz answered, now sounding angry. “You’re going to run smack into the arms of the first border guard. Why did I ever let myself be talked into this! Now I’m really in for it!”
He got out of the car.
“What are you doing?” Silbermann asked hopefully.
“I’m not starting something and then leaving it half-done now am I?” Franz said, disgruntled. “Come on.”
“Do you really want to…?”
“No! I don’t want to! But what choice do I have?”
“And you can leave the car here like that?”
“I took the key. All on account of these stupid thousand marks. It’s not like both of us don’t have paying jobs, too—bloody hell.”
“I’ll give you another thousand marks,” said Silbermann, happy. “No, I’ll even give you…”
“Just get your suitcase,” Franz growled, and set off.
He seemed to know the way well, but he was in such a hurry that he ran more than walked. Silbermann tripped over roots, banged into rocks, and bumped into tree trunks. He was panting from exertion. His suitcase felt like it was made of lead.
After ten minutes of rushing like that without a break—Franz looked back from time to time to make sure Silbermann was following—Silbermann was exhausted and said: “I can’t keep up. I need to rest a moment.”
Franz stopped. “That’s more or less what I imagined,” he whispered. “Do you know what’s going to happen if I get home and discover that the boss asked for the car while I was away? He sometimes goes out at night and he’s also a real swine. He’d hand me over to the police straightaway simply for taking his car for a joyride. Of course it’s just like you to peter out now, too. Hand me the suitcase.”
He went on ahead.
“What’s your guess as to the time?” Silbermann whispered after a while.
“Two o’clock, I think. Early enough to get caught.”
Now Franz was feeling the weight of the suitcase. He set it down and cursed quietly.
“I’d like to know how it is that I wound up being your pack mule? Incredible! If someone had told me I’d be risking my neck for a bourgeois…”
“You’re a decent person,” Silbermann said quietly, pleased to be able to take off his hat and wipe his brow.
“There are no decent people,” Franz replied. “Not according to the materialist concept of history. But what would you know about that?”
“Not much,” Silbermann admitted.
“You see,” said Franz, more graciously. “But I’m sure even you realize that one person’s saint is another person’s devil. And the devil for the working class is … But let’s go. If I start thinking about it, I’ll end up ditching you right here!”
Silbermann laughed.
“Psst!” said Franz, angry. They had reached the clearing.
“Is it much farther?” asked Silbermann.
“Ten minutes, but now be still!”
Franz listened in the darkness. Then he moved quietly ahead, making sure his footsteps made no noise.
Silbermann tiptoed behind him. Franz’s company had given him so much courage that he almost forgot the danger he was in.
At last they came to the forest path.
“I’d take you farther, to Lambert’s—that’s a friend of mine who runs an inn, but I have to beat it back to the car. Just keep going straight ahead until you come to the field I told you about, and then march directly across. Be sure to make as little noise as possible. After that you’ll come to a little forest. Cross through that, and then you’ll be in the village. The fourth house is Lambert’s inn. Go inside but of course leave your suitcase in the woods. I’m assuming you’re not dumb enough to walk into the village carrying a suitcase? So, tell Lambert that Franz sends his greetings, and he’ll help you. He’ll definitely want to make some money, but he’ll take you farther. His stepson has a car. You speak French, don’t you?”
“Yes, of course,” said Silbermann.
“Of course—exactly like the lot of you! So, then, good-bye.”
“Wait, I still want to give you the money.”
“I’ll take money for risking my boss’s car, but not for risking my neck!”
“But…”
Franz had already turned around, and for a few minutes Silbermann watched his haggard, bony figure as it disappeared into the darkness. Then he picked up his suitcase. “I’m lucky after all,” he mumbled.
A light rain began to fall. The drops splashed against Silbermann’s face. He hurried ahead as fast as the suitcase allowed. He still felt some of the security that being close to Franz had provided.
It’s going to work out, he hoped. If only I’d left this crazy suitcase at home. He thought about leaving it in the woods, but opening it and unpacking the money seemed too dangerous. I’ve lugged it this far, so I’ll go on lugging it some more, he thought, when he had to set it down again. Otherwise the whole slog would have been for nothing.
He felt so exhausted that he had to rest for a moment.
I wonder if Franz is going to get into trouble, he asked himself. I don’t even know his last name. I’ll never be able to thank him. But what a stroke of luck. Actually I have that fat police spy to thank for meeting him.
Belgium, he then thought. I’m now in Belgium. And it doesn’t look any different. I ought to be mad with joy but instead I’m afraid. And it’s the same fear I had five minutes ago when I was still in Germany. If only I …
He thought he heard a noise and strained to listen. Weren’t those twigs snapping somewhere? He jumped up, lifted his suitcase, and looked around, wide-eyed.
“No,” he whispered, “no, no, no! It’s over. I quit! I’m staying right here! I’m staying here even if they…”
But there was no noise—he’d been mistaken. The rain dripped down on him and calmed him somewhat. He picked up his suitcase and set off again. The blister on his index finger had burst from carrying the suitcase, and the pain refused to let up. He switched the suitcase to the other hand.
What if I get caught now, he thought. And sent back to Germany! But that simply can’t happen!
To make as little noise as possible he went exceedingly slowly, testing the ground with his feet to avoid any missteps.
At least I’m in Belgium, he then thought. I managed after all!
The forest began to clear and through the darkness he could make out something lighter colored. The road, he thought. He started to walk more quickly, without paying attention to the noise made by the snapping twigs. When he was out of the woods he looked around. He felt an almost celebratory sensation.
My shadow existence is over, he thought. Now I’ll become a human again!
After he had carefully scanned the area and failed to see anything suspicious, he crossed the road. Before him was an open field.
Keep going straight ahead, he remembered. He jumped over a small ditch and felt the soft, damp tilled earth beneath his feet. If only I hadn’t taken this damn suitcase with me, he again wished.
All of a sudden he heard sounds coming from the forest. Twigs crackled, first one flashlight switched on, then a second, and two figures emerged from the darkness about twenty meters from the place he had just passed, and headed in his direction.
At the first suspicious sound Silbermann had instantly thrown himself down and was now dragging his suitcase behind him, which thudded on the ground. His heart was pounding, and he opened his mouth wide to breathe. He pushed his face as close to the ground as his increasingly urgent need for air allowed.
Only the blurred outlines of the men were visible. They were standing in the middle of the road, pointing their flashlights this way and that. They conferred in whispers and seemed to disagree as to which direction he had taken, and then they separated. One stayed in place while the other walked over to the ditch, where he shined his light up and down before setting off in the opposite direction from Silbermann.
Meanwhile the man who had stayed put lit a cigarette and started walking very deliberately right toward Silbermann. He seemed utterly sure of himself—almost as though he were mocking both his colleague, who had doggedly continued in the wrong direction and was now fifty paces away, as well as the man who thought he could remain hidden.
This can’t be. Silbermann prayed that it not be true. This simply cannot be! He can’t have seen me, no!
At the same time he knew that the man who was now only ten paces away could surely hear his fitful breathing. Silbermann pressed his hand against his mouth.
“Eh bien,” a calm voice now said. “Voulez-vous rester là?”
The man shone the light in Silbermann’s face.
“Je l’ai trouvé,” the guard now called out to his companion, who came hurrying over.
Silbermann had a hard time getting up. “Je suis…” he began.
“Vous avez traversé la frontière,” the guard interrupted him and once again shone the light in Silbermann’s face. “Il faut retourner!”
“Je suis un refugié,” Silbermann continued, his voice hoarse. “Je suis juif.”
“Tiens, tiens,” the guard replied. “Mais quand-même. Vous n’avez pas le droit de passer la frontière. Il faut venir avec un visa. Alors, venez!”
In the meantime the other guard had arrived. “You have to go back to Germany.”
“But I’m a refugee—I’m Jewish. They wanted to arrest me. They’ll lock me up in a concentration camp.”
“We’re not allowed to let you through. Come with us!” The man grabbed him by the arm and started leading him back to the forest.
The guard who had discovered him carried Silbermann’s suitcase and left the talking to his colleague.
When they reached the road Silbermann stopped. “I protest!” he said. “I’m staying here! You don’t have the right, you’re not allowed to do this! I’m in a free country!”
“You crossed the border illegally.”
“I had no choice—I was persecuted.”
“But everybody can’t just come to Belgium!”
“I have papers. I have money. Wait, let me show you…”
“Come on!” the guard shoved him ahead.
But Silbermann resisted. “You have to understand,” he said. “I can no longer go back. I only intended to stay one day in Belgium. My son lives in Paris. I want to go to Paris to join him!”
“Explain that to the Belgian consul in Germany! We have orders…”
“But I’m not going back! I demand to be taken to the guardhouse! It’s not my fault I had to cross the border illegally. I’m being persecuted.”
“It’s not Belgium’s fault. We’re sorry…”
They had crossed the road. Silbermann stopped again.
“I can’t go back!” he said. “It’s impossible!” He turned to the guard who was carrying his suitcase.
“Mais oui, mon ami, that’s completely possible,” the man calmly replied.
Silbermann suddenly tore himself away from them. “Do what you want,” he cried.“I’m staying … je reste … je reste!”
“If you don’t go back voluntarily we’ll have to put you on a train in Herbesthal. The next station is in Germany, and there the German authorities will…”
“You can’t do that!”
“Mais oui!”
For a moment all three were silent. Then the two guards grabbed him vigorously by the arms and shoved him ahead.
“You know the way!” said the man who had discovered him. “Just don’t come back!”
“Or else we’ll have to put you on that train to Germany!” the other added.
They had reached the edge of the forest, but Silbermann was mistaken if he thought the guards would then leave him alone. They continued to escort him. Once again he stopped.
“I’m not going,” he declared with desperate energy. “I won’t stay longer than one day. I promise you I’ll travel on immediately. I have everything. Money, papers. I’m not a poor man. You have to understand, they’ll arrest me. If I can’t stay here I’ll have to kill myself. Belgium is my last hope. Gentlemen, I beg you, I’ve never broken the law in my life!”
“You have to go back. There’s no point in talking. You have to go back!”
“Écoutez,” Silbermann began again, turning to the first guard. “I’ll give you five thousand marks! That’s a fortune…”
“You must be crazy. Allez.” the man answered calmly.
“Listen, it’s a good opportunity for you, and for me it would mean my life. I’ll give you ten thousand—five for each!”
His shoulder felt a shove.
“Shut your mouth,” said a rough voice, though Silbermann thought he detected a slight hesitation.
“Fifteen thousand,” he raised his offer. “And I assure you I’ll never say a word about it—that’s in my own interest. Be reasonable, and be human! There are two of you, I’ll give each of you the money right away. Think about it, seven thousand five hundred marks…”
“We’re in Belgium here,” the guard said, and Silbermann wasn’t sure whether he was referring to a higher value placed on morals or a lower value of Germany currency.
“Ten thousand apiece…” Silbermann raised the offer. “That’s enough to retire on and buy a house if you want.” Since he was now discussing the business aspect of the negotiation, his voice was noticeably calmer and more self-assured.
The guards said nothing. If only they don’t distrust each other … Silbermann was afraid. They can’t see each other’s face, and therein lies the danger.
“We can arrange it very quickly,” he said. “I leave Belgium, and you can look out for each other, because you’re both…”
“Be quiet,” said the second guard curtly. Perhaps he wanted to make clear to his colleague that he was no less principled than the one who had first refused.
A misunderstanding between these two is going to be the end of me, thought Silbermann, despairing. He tried again: “Gentlemen, you are…”
But now the guard on his right shook his arm. “Will you finally shut up!” he snarled.
“If you keep on like that we’ll hand you over to the German guards,” added the one to his left.
“But we have to trust each other!” Silbermann implored, thinking that he understood things very clearly. “Ten thousand for each, right away. I’m guessing that’s about fifty thousand francs…”
If they could only see each other’s face, he thought. Then they would surely come to an agreement.
“That’s enough,” said the guard on his right. “One more word and we’re taking you to Herbesthal.”
Silbermann was silent. They had reached the forest path and stopped.
“Eh bien, Monsieur,” the guard with the suitcase said very crossly as he put it down. “You’re back in your fatherland. Don’t come back under any circumstances! That would be very dangerous for you!”
“Gentlemen,” Silbermann begged them once more. “I didn’t mean to offend you. I assure you. But think about it…”
“If you show up here again…” the guard growled.
Silbermann turned around, cut through the forest, and tripped over a root as he stumbled back into the German Reich.