Читать книгу I Remember - Ich denke an ... - Tanya Josefowitz - Страница 9

On our way to Le Havre we spent 24 hours in Paris. Arriving at the grandiose Gare du Nord, we checked into a hotel for the night.

Our room was on the fifth floor. I had never been in such a high building, and looking down from the window, people, cars and buses, seemed like toys. We again shared a single room with breakfast and we slept well that night.

In the morning Mother went to the Gallery Lafayette, the most famous French Department Store, to buy us each a present, a souvenir of Paris. Vladimir and I had to stay in the hotel, while she went off, and I again was in a panic, following my Mummy through the window and seeing her disappear in that very, very busy street, crowded with people. Her absence seemed endless. But we were rewarded on her return. I received a lovely plaid beret and scarf which I cherished for many years, Vladimir too got a beret, and Mother, all thrilled, had bought herself some nail varnish, an unheard-of, vulgar luxury by all standards of our life style.

We left Paris in the afternoon and took the train to Le Havre, where we were to board the boat that was to take us to the USA. Mother had had a cold for days. But now, on the train, it suddenly became much worse. It was as if all this time she had pulled herself together to be strong and in control, and now as we were on our last lap to liberty, her body finally gave in.

On arrival at Le Havre, there was a huge crowd. Babies, little children, old and young people, all queuing up with their luggage. It was dusk, and it all seemed so chaotic. As we were standing in line to get to the gangplank, Mother so unwell and I helpless and miserable with a continuous bellyache, a miracle occurred. There, out of the clear sky, a smiling woman pushed her way through to us and fell around my mother’s neck. It was an old school friend of hers, now a medical doctor and married to a doctor as well.

This was to be our second guardian angel. Realizing immediately how ill my Mother was, she warned her, whispering into her ear, to hide her condition in front of the officials as we were boarding the ship. Sick passengers were not allowed on board and could be forced to get off if noticed before departure. To hide her high fever and her red, sniffling nose, Mother now feigned sobs and bitter tears of departure, covering her face with a hanky. It worked, and they let us on the boat. What a relief!

Our cabin was small but cozy, and that of our friends was nearby. So they often looked in on us. Again they warned my Mother to cover up her illness by feigning sea-sickness. Patients and invalids were not admitted in the US by the immigration authorities. They were put on an island, Ellis Island, where they detained sick refugees, criminals and other undesirables. A new fear to cope with! Yet, instinctively, I felt the worst danger was over. At least we were on the way to America, the land of the free.

Mother never made it to the diningroom. She was too ill with high temperature, feigning sea-sickness all the way, which seemed plausible since it was a rough crossing. Her doctor friends medicated her as best as possible, and I was finally taken to the ship’s doctor. After examination he was fully convinced that I was suffering from acute constipation and could only be helped by a massive dose of castor oil.

Again I cried and screamed. I had to be held down by the nurse, as they poured half a glass of the detestable liquid mixed with red wine down my throat. Once I had swallowed it, I was given chocolate flavored mints. The laxative worked and my pains subsided. I felt elated and for the first time in weeks the sun was shining on me again.

Vladimir and I were like the ship’s mascots. Everyone took care of us and spoiled us, “poor children roaming the ship alone because our mother was so sea-sick!” I did not realize how very ill she actually was, as she seemed to be sleeping most of the time. The trip was too short for us children. We loved it.