The Last Green Valley - Mark Sullivan (black female authors .txt) 📗

them north to the Warthegau region of Poland, departing Keleti Station at nine thirty the following morning.

Emil did not want to go north to Poland. He wanted to go west, now more than ever. In the short time he’d been in Budapest, he’d talked to enough German soldiers to know that the western Allies were fighting in Sicily and preparing to invade Italy. As far as Emil was concerned, it was only a matter of time before there were other invasions, and soon the western Allies would be sweeping through all of Europe. He wanted to make sure he and his family were in Allied territory when the war ended.

He’d come to realize during the long days in the wagon that much of his life had been subject to a conquering army and a dictator. The Bolsheviks deposed the Czar, and Stalin laid waste to Ukraine. Then Hitler did. And now Stalin had it back. Emil decided he wanted to go where there were no conquering armies, and in his mind that meant west across the ocean, as far from where they started as he could possibly imagine.

“Why are you so cloudy?” Adeline asked as they packed the little wagon.

“I don’t want to go to Poland,” he said. “I want to go west.”

“We’ll go west from Poland,” she said. “The Germans will give us food and a place to live there. I heard many say that.”

“What good are food and a flat if Stalin gets to Poland before the other Allies?”

“I don’t know,” she said, showing rare irritation. “What is your plan, Emil? Are we going to leave the trek? Go off on our own on foot with no protection?”

He thought about that and frowned. “No, I guess not.”

“Then we go north on the train in the morning and go west from the Warthegau as soon as we can.”

It was unseasonably hot in Budapest that May morning, close to unbearable, especially in the heavy clothes they wore. Adeline put the boys in shorts and stripped them to their undershirts before the Martels pushed and pulled the two small wagons through the cemetery and out onto the main road.

They were not far from the rail station, but there was a slight rise to the street, and the sun was blazing hot. No more than a hundred meters from the station, Rese let go the handle of her parents’ cart, put her hand to her forehead, rushed over to one side of the street, and vomited hard and violently enough to take her to her knees. Adeline got to her first.

“I’m all right,” Rese gasped. “It’s the heat. I just couldn’t stop it from coming.”

Adeline helped her up. Karoline gave her a rag to wipe her mouth, and Emil gave her water from the bag, which seemed to perk her up before they reached the crowd of refugees trying to get into the station.

“It’s an hour and fifteen minutes until we leave, and so many are already here,” Karoline said. “Will there be enough room for us all?”

Karoline’s fears were well-founded. By the time they got inside and down the platform, many of the boxcars were already packed with people and their belongings.

“This train looks shorter than the one we came in on,” said Walt, who was riding on top of the little wagon with Will.

“He’s right,” Emil said. “Adella, take my place. I’ll run forward to guard us a spot.”

She came around and took the handle of the wagon while her mother and sister continued to push. Emil disappeared into the crowd and down the platform.

Adeline took glances at the already-full cars as they passed, seeing the faces of people cut loose from everything they’d ever known, some frightened, some resigned, and a few eager with anticipation, which was how she felt. She was wondering what else she might see in the coming days that she’d never seen before, like this train station, the most magnificent building she’d ever been in. She lowered her gaze to see Emil hanging out the side of the boxcar behind the covered coal car and the locomotive.

“I’ve got space for the wagons, but some of us will have to sit up top,” Emil said.

“I’m going up top,” Rese said.

“Sick as you are?” her mother said.

“The wind will do me good, Mama, settle my stomach,” Rese said. “If I go inside, I know I’ll be sick again. Besides, it will be fun to ride on top of a train.”

Karoline looked like she wanted to argue, but said, “Suit yourself, then.”

With all of them helping, they lifted both wagons into the boxcar and lashed them together and to the wall by the open door. Sweating people were soon jammed behind them, sitting on their own wagons or bags of belongings. Johann, Karoline, and Lydia decided to stay inside with the wagons despite the sweltering heat. After Emil fashioned two ropes with loops that went around the boys’ waists to save them from a fall, Adeline let herself be talked into climbing up with them and Malia onto the roof of the boxcar.

A low railing ran around the perimeter of the roof. Rese was already up there, sitting with her thighs wedged under the rail and dangling her bare feet off the side.

“It’s not as hot up here,” Rese said, excited. “Thank God Mama can’t stand heights. This is going to be fun!”

“This is going to be fun,” Malia said, sitting beside Rese and sliding her legs under the rail. She kicked her feet a few times in the air with a smile. “And your mother means well.”

“Does she?” Rese said. “I get tired of her telling me what to do and how to do it.”

“It’s just the way she was taught,” Adeline said. “You watch, you’ll catch yourself doing the same to your daughter someday.”

Rese looked a little queasy, rubbed her stomach, and belched softly.

“Oh, I hope not.”

The train whistle blew. SS soldiers hurried the last refugees aboard the train. The roofs of