The New World

In trying to escape from his world a boy only brings it with him.

Chapter Ten

The New World

 

Josef crouched beside the room window, watching as the rain streamed down. Beyond the rain he could see yellow smudges from gas lamps on the street and from ships in the harbour.  If he peered hard enough, he could make out the grey outline of buildings, nothing else. People had fled the empty streets.  Dull as it was, at least the scene outside the window gave him an excuse not to have to look at Franz.  Franz sat at the other end of the room, drinking porter and playing an unending game of Solitaire. They had taken their supper downstairs, Josef dining with Frederick in a private room, Franz eating in the common room. Frederick, ignoring the weather, had then gone out to tour the local taverns. Franz and Josef had nothing to do but wait for him. Tomorrow they would board the steamship for Montreal.

Ten months had passed since they had landed at New York City, two years since leaving Marienberg. Nothing had improved for Josef. In fact, it had grown worse. In Paris and in London they had allowed him out to the parks, and to walk the streets with Frederick and Katrina. They had denied the streets to him in New York City.

The journey to New York had been long and indirect. They had spent two months in Paris. Then civil war in Paris had caused Frederick to flee to London. He settled in Bloomsbury. There he spent a pleasant fall and winter as Radek sought the means of persuading him to leave for New York but London agreed with Frederick. Frederick’s reluctance to move further coupled with the failure of the revolution in Austria threatened to unravel everything.  Radek confided to Katrina that they might have to take what they could and leave without Frederick. Josef had already told Katrina that he was planning to disappear into the city if they were still there in the summer. 

Then Louis Bonaparte was elected President of the French Republic. To any Austrian the election of a Bonaparte could mean only one thing, war. A week after receiving the news, Frederick agreed to travel to America.

They had disembarked in New York on the late afternoon of July the thirteenth. The rounding of the southern tip of Staten Island, the straining of necks to see the New World, the excited pointing of fingers, the approach of the pilot’s schooner, went unseen by Josef.  He remained locked in Frederick’s stateroom.  Radek remained adamant. Frederick had refused to contradict him. Katrina, wary of revealing herself had not chosen to make an issue of the matter. Josef remained in the stateroom. From its porthole he had a limited view of the seaward side of the approach to the harbour. Josef could see a brig making its way out to sea and a green shoulder of land, nothing more until the ship had docked. 

The steamship slipped past the green park of the Battery and the circular walls of Fort Clinton. It approached its final destination, the South Street Wharf.  Only after the crew tied the ship to the wharf, was Josef allowed out of the stateroom. Frederick’s right hand pressing his left shoulder, he hustled the bewildered boy down the ship’s gangplank.

Josef, pushed by Frederick, was soon at the bottom of the plank, standing on American soil, or at least on American wood.  Katrina and Radek followed. After them came the Leuger twins. The immigration and customs officials, once aware of Frederick’s title, treated him with a courtesy reserved for the most important visitors to the city. The baron and his party swept through customs, with as few questions as possible. The officers helped secure two cabs for them and suggested the Astor Hotel as the finest house in New York. Frederick was gracious enough to accept their advice.

The cabs squeezed their way north past other vehicles, mobs of pedestrians and the pigs that roamed the garbage-strewn streets. The cab driver informed Frederick that the pigs, since the days of the Dutch, had served as the city’s sanitation workers.

On the morning after his arrival Josef looked down from the sitting room window of Frederick’s suite at the traffic flowing past the hotel.  In a minute he could disappear into that crowd.

Franz looked up from his newspaper. “Impressive, isn’t it?”

Ignoring him, Josef continued to look down on the moving throng. Tomorrow, perhaps tonight, he would be walking down those streets, free of Frederick, of Radek, of Katrina and her brothers.

Franz lowered the newspaper and looked at the window. “Quite a city. It’s good to know about the pigs. Makes you feel more at home here, doesn’t it, Josef?”  He smiled as he disappeared behind the paper.

It had seemed so simple the way that Katrina and he had planned it on the boat. Within the first few days of arriving in America, Josef would disappear.  He would become separated from the others in the crowd.  Some night he might slip out of the hotel. Katrina would give him a few dollars from the pin money given to her by Radek.  Katrina had foreseen one problem. Manhattan being an island, they would have to find the ferries leading off the island to the mainland. Once Josef knew that he would know in which direction to go.  All that he needed was a chance to get out into the streets.  Radek would not give him that chance.  For the two weeks that they were at the Astor, he did not allow Josef out of Frederick’s suite. His only taste of open American air was the balcony.  All of his pleadings and all of Katrina’s scheming could not shake Radek’s refusal to allow him out.  Wait; Katrina told him.  Wait until they relax. When we get settled in, then he or Frederick would become more amenable.

They remained in the hotel until the end of July when they moved into a large house that Herr Radek had secured for them in a small village called Harlem.   In the northern half of the island, it lay amidst farms and green fields. The country air would be better for the health, Radek argued. The quiet of the country would assist in the finishing of Frederick’s manuscript.

Radek chose a three-story brownstone mansion. The former home of a tea merchant, he had passed the house and his debts onto his children.  To rid themselves of the latter, they sold the former. At thirteen thousand American dollars, Radek considered the house a bit expensive, but a baron had to live like a baron. Besides, he told Frederick; they could always resell it before returning to Austria. With land prices increasing in New York, they might even make a small profit.  Frederick took everyone with him when they went to look at the house, travelling by carriage from the Astor Hotel.  Josef stepped straight out of the hotel, Frederick holding his hand, into the carriage.   Radek sat on his other side, Katrina and the estate agent across from him. The Leuger twins rode outside. 

                The house was at the end of a quiet street, an important point the estate agent told Frederick, less traffic, less noise to disturb his Excellency.  As Frederick and Radek moved into the house following the agent, Katrina asked if she could take Josef to have a look at the kitchen and the back yard. Frederick glanced at Radek.  He then nodded adding that a woman would know best about the qualities of a kitchen.   The party broke up, Frederick and Radek going off with the agent to look at the study, Katrina and Josef, trailed by the twins, going into the kitchen.

Katrina made a cursory glance of the kitchen looking inside the range and checking the pantry space. In a clear voice she announced that she liked the gas lighting. It was very modern and much more convenient then oil lamps and candles. As she rattled on about the virtues of the kitchen, she led Josef towards the kitchen’s back door. It led out to the back porch and beyond it, to the yard.

The chestnut tree rose well above the eight-foot high red brick wall enclosing the yard. Its branches swept over the wall, reaching out to the fields beyond. Inch-thick creepers of an ivy bush had over grown the wall. Given five minutes time free of the Leugers, Josef could climb either tree or wall. Between the bars of the old gate he could see a dirt road running towards the fields. He could follow that road and disappear behind the trees and farms beyond.

                He looked up at Katrina. Josef did not say anything, but she knew what he was asking. She nodded, turned and told him that it was time to go back into the house, and did he not think that a garden would be lovely?

By the time that they moved in, Herr Radek had made changes. Josef discovered the first a week before they moved. Katrina was no longer to be his governess. Frederick told him the news during breakfast.  “Why?” Josef asked.

Frederick smiled. “You’re old enough now not to need one.”

“But . . . she was a good teacher.”

“Yes she was, but we need her as a housekeeper.  She will be very busy helping with securing new staff and preparing the house. She moved there with Herr Radek and Franz yesterday.”

                Josef remembered what Katrina had told him. Never argue.  “Why did she not tell me?”

                “I decided that it would be better if I told you.  Don’t worry Josef.  It will be like the early days at Marienberg again, in the library.  You liked it then, didn’t you, you and I together, learning things.”

“Yes, your Excellency.”

He did not see Katrina that day, nor the next day. When he did ask Frederick about her, he would only say that she was very busy getting the new house ready. Once settled Josef would have time to visit her. 

When Frederick brought him to the new house, Herr Radek and Katrina and the staff of nine servants lined up to receive them. Josef found it odd.   He had assumed that the staff would be American. They were not. They all spoke German, all being recent arrivals from the German states. As Radek introduced them, Josef felt as he had not left Austria.  German, not English, was to be the language of the baron’s household while he remained in America. As he moved with the baron down the line of servants, he looked back at Katrina. She was following behind Herr Radek. Seeing him looking at her, she shook her head. Josef lowered his eyes and turned to face the front.

                Once inside the house he asked Frederick if he could go out to the back yard, expecting Frederick to forbid it.  To his surprise Frederick agreed. Herr Radek made no objection, another surprise. He hurried out through the kitchen.  The Leugers were overseeing the handling of the luggage. Herr Radek was showing Frederick the new furnishings. Why should he wait? Katrina was unwilling or unable to help him any longer. Swinging open the screen door, he ran out onto the porch.

All that remained of the tree was a six-inch high stump. They had cut away the ivy that had covered the brick wall. Topping the wall was a fresh layer of concrete into which two rows of broken glass had been placed, their pointed tips threatening to cut the hands of anyone trying to clamber over the wall. He was still staring at the glass when Katrina came out. She placed her hands upon his shoulders.

“I wanted to tell you. They wouldn’t let me get back to see you.”

“They know, don’t they?”

“Radek suspects. Frederick just does what Radek tells him to do. ”

“I’ll never get out. They are not going to let me out of this house, are they?”

“It will just take a little more time.”

“How much?”

“Radek and Frederick are planning to take a tour of America, beginning in August.”

“Am I to go with them?”

“You’re to stay here, but the only two people to watch you will be Ferdie and I. I can get around Ferdie. They’ll be gone for a month.  The day after they leave, you will leave. I promise you.”

                “I’m tired of your promises.” He pulled himself away from her hands and slouched back into the house.                          Frederick and Herr Radek left for their month long tour of America on the first of August. Allowing Frederick to embrace him, Josef kept thinking of what he was going to do. When they were gone, he would go back to their room and pack his clothes. Katrina had been slipping him small sums of money when she could. He had accumulated fifteen dollars. That would be enough to see him well away from New York.

On the day of their departure, Radek requested Katrina to see him off at the docks.  Radek’s calling Katrina away was an unexpected complication. Katrina was supposed to draw Ferdie away. Still, Josef was certain that once evening came he would get away.  He would open his room window and, on a rope made from the blankets, drop to the street.   He would remain in his room until then.  Ferdie would assume that he had gone to sleep.  Josef ran up the stairs towards his room.   At the top of the landing stood Ferdie. “Where are you going?” he asked.

“To my room.”

“That’s not your room anymore.”

Josef tried to push past him, to find himself lifted into the air and tossed over Ferdie’s right shoulder. “You have a new room.” Oblivious to Josef’s punching and kicking, Ferdie carried the boy up the stairs leading to the third floor, the servant’s quarters.  He carried the boy past startled servants and closed doors to the end of the hallway. There stood the gaping door of a small box room, little larger then a closet. Tossing the boy in, Ferdie swung the door shut and snapped tight a padlock.

Josef threw himself at the door.  The oak held fast against his feet and fists. He beat against the door until the skin of his knuckles began to break and bleed. Then sliding to the floor, he looked at the room into which Ferdie had thrown him.  Light came from the ceiling through a skylight. He looked up at it to find iron bars blocking it. The room contained an iron cot, a mattress, blankets and pillow. Under the bed sat a white chamber pot. A gaslight jutted out from the wall. The room contained nothing else.  Not knowing what else to do, he began screaming, hoping vainly that a servant, moved by the noise, might release him. No one came. Finally, his throat sore, he curled up and waited for Katrina to return.

Josef did not know how much time had passed. He could not see the sun.  He surmised it must have been an hour, perhaps two. From somewhere, far down the hall, he could hear steps running up the stairs, light steps followed by heavier ones. Someone called his name. Katrina. She had returned from seeing Frederick and Radek off. Ferdie must have told her where he was. She would let him out.  He called out to her. The door began to shake. She shouted at Ferdie, demanding that he open the door.  Josef then heard the sound of a slap.  Something heavy hit the door. Katrina screamed.  So did Josef.   He fell silent when Katrina stopped screaming. He could hear her sobbing.  Then she was still.

The door opened.  Ferdie pushed Katrina inside.  “My sister has something to say to you, pig.”

                Josef looked up at the broken lips, bleeding nose and bruises, and at the torn jacket. The girl’s hair unstrung in the scuffle, hung down, framing her battered face. 

“Don’t try to leave, Josef,” she murmured. “Please.”

 “You see, pig,” Ferdie smiled, “Franz and I, we know our little sister, better then anyone, better even then Radek. We know about the games you’ve been playing with one another, the looks you use because you think that we’re too stupid to understand.  Here’s how it is. Radek needs you. We get paid good money making certain he gets and keeps what he needs.”

“Katrina is our sister. We love her, so we won’t punish her too much. Besides, she’ll pay us money every month to keep our mouths shut about what you have been trying to do. If Frederick comes home and finds his pet gone, what’s he going to do about it, eh? I can arrange it that you won’t be here, or anywhere else if you try something stupid. If my beloved sister is found helping you, who’s Radek going to blame?  So are you going to try being stupid, or are you going to sit in this room quiet, until Frederick gets back? It’s your choice, pig.”

Josef slipped down onto the bed, unable to look at either Katrina or Ferdie. What he had feared would take place back when he had first been told of America, had happened.  Nothing had changed. Nothing ever would. “I’ll do what you want.”

“Tell him what he is, Kat.”

Katrina opened her mouth, and mumbled the required word.  “Nothing.”

“Leave her alone,” said Josef. “Please.”

“Good,” said Ferdie. He offered his sister a handkerchief to wipe her face. “Everyone is happier now that we’re agreeing about things.   You see Josef; people who make mistakes get punished.  That’s the way the world is. Nothing personal. Now that we all know what you are, we can be friends again. By the way, I took your fifteen dollars, payment for my not saying anything about this. Fair, don’t you think?”

“Yes.”

“Katrina had no business giving you money.  You spend the rest of the day here. Think over what I said. Tomorrow I’ll have breakfast brought to you. Katrina can pack some things, books and toys for you. The month will go by faster then you think. Frederick will be back then. Something to look forward to, uh?”

As he chuckled, Ferdie pushed Katrina out of the room and closed the door, snapping the padlock shut.  The next morning a maid arrived with a small package. With Ferdie waiting outside, Josef said nothing to her.  She tidied and took out the covered chamber pot.   Katrina had packed a small parcel. He looked through it as he ate his breakfast. He found two picture books, a copybook, and a German spelling primer, an inkwell and pen.  Josef also found a letter.  He knew that Ferdie had read the letter. The envelope showed signs of having been opened, the crumpled letter being shoved back into it.  Katrina wrote to encourage him to behave himself, saying that Ferdie would not hurt him if he remained quiet. She would speak to Frederick when he returned to try to see if Josef could have an outing since she knew that Josef would never want to leave his beloved master. There the letter ended.  Josef tossed the letter aside. He did not look up when the servant returned for his breakfast tray and placed the emptied pot under the bed.  She then did a very odd thing. Without saying a word to Josef, she drew out from under her skirt a small cloth wrapped bundle. Placing it on the table, she collected the breakfast things, and hurried out of the room. Josef opened the bundle to find inside, a copy of Robinson Crusoe, a small paring knife, and a letter.

Eva is a good sort and has agreed to act as my messenger. She does not dare do more then that.  I dare not ask it of her.  Other things will follow but you must first have a place to put them. My father always kept his money in a hole in the floor underneath his bed. Tell me when you are ready. Then I will send more. If you have a message, place it under your plate.

Katrina. 

P.S. I did not know. Forgive me?

As he knelt on the floor, he compared the size of the planking to the tiny knife in his hand. Katrina, he decided, had lost her mind. Still, he did want to know what else she would bring him. Bending over he began to chip away at the edge of the planking with the knife.

Frederick, Radek and Franz returned on the first week of September having travelled as far west as a city called Chicago. Radek returned with enthusiasm for the wealth of the country. Frederick admitted that America had great beauty but that it lacked refinement.  Niagara Falls had impressed him. He regretted that they had been unable to see it from the Canadian side. Herr Radek had pressed him to move on to Ohio. Now Frederick was satisfied with his rambling. He wanted nothing more then to return to his history of the German Speaking Peoples.

Progress on his work slowed.  His drinking became heavier. With absinthe and brandy, Frederick had now developed a taste for American corn whiskey. His intake of opium increased from three to five spoonfuls. There was now a noticeable shaking of his hands.  In another note, Katrina advised Josef that if Frederick decided to take another trip, Josef should beg for permission to go with him.  For that to happen, thought Josef, two miracles were needed.  Frederick would have to be willing to risk his being out of the house.  Radek would have to second Frederick’s approval.

The first miracle happened in October. Frederick, embarrassed at the trick played on Josef, had begged him to understand that he had meant only to protect him from the American authorities.  Ferdinand had overstepped his orders.  Radek had admonished him. The room had changed a great deal by the time that Frederick had returned. The day before Ferdie had all of Josef’s favourite books and toys brought in and also a large reading chair.  He had, Frederick told Josef, given orders to make the room as comfortable as possible.

The baron also told Josef that he had decided to leave this barbarous country next summer. Josef would return with him. Herr Radek seemed inclined to prefer staying. Frederick would not object. Where Radek went, the Leugers went. It would be a very different Marienberg that Josef would be returning to, Frederick promised.  To show that he trusted Josef, Frederick assured him that he would bring him on his last tour of North America in the late spring, probably to the Canadas. Frederick thought that it might be interesting to tour this minor offshoot of the Germanic migrations. The blend of French and British cultures intrigued him. He wished to see if it was as unworkable in Canada as it had been in Europe.

Josef thanked him, knowing as he did so that Radek would never approve. Radek’s voice was the one that mattered.  For all of Katrina’s notes and whispered urging, Josef had accepted that Radek would never allow him out.

Although he spent most of the day in Frederick’s study, he had lost interest in reading. He would sit for hours, a book on his lap, beside the window. From there he could see people in the street. On the other side of the street was a large public common where he could watch people sitting and children playing.  For him, it might as well have been in Bohemia. He thought of asking Frederick to let him go there.   Knowing what the answer would be, he never bothered. He had the same reaction towards Frederick’s projected tour of Canada. It would never be, so why spend time thinking about it.

Radek spent much of his time away from the house, meeting with bankers, politicians and brokers, discussing the best means of investing the baron’s money.  He used his influence with city hall to buy a seat on the stock exchange and launched a small investment firm. Radek would not return until evening. By default, control of the household, with Frederick buried in his study, rested with the housekeeper, Katrina.  Actual power lay in the hands of her brothers.

Frederick had given up trying to resist anything that Radek wanted from him. Whatever Radek gave him to sign; he would sign without questioning, without even looking at the paper. Only on two points did Frederick refuse to budge. No one should harm Josef.  He was travelling with Frederick to Canada in the spring.

Once or twice a week, Josef would slip into the study at night, open the locked chest in which the manuscript was kept and bring the latest writings to Radek. Katrina told him that, apart from an occasional twinge of amusement, Radek saw the manuscript as an indicator of Frederick’s mental stability.

Frederick had strayed from the past of the Germanic peoples to their future.  Although still believing in the mission of the Germanic peoples to lead the world, he now stressed that domination should be moral. Conquests should be that of the spirit and of the soul.  More opium than historical research in this, Radek thought. He considered having the man declared incompetent but had decided that would be premature.

In March, the second miracle occurred. Frederick, summoning up what little remained of his authority, demanded that Radek allow Josef to go with him to Canada. Radek, who had avoided giving either clear denial or approval, assented, if Franz went with them.  Puzzled, Josef, using Eva as his courier, scribbled a note to Katrina, asking why. Arrogance, Katrina replied. Radek believed that Josef would not run.   He could not speak English. He did not know the country and would not dare to speak to anyone. Everything else had gone so well for Radek, why not be a bit flexible? Besides, he looked forward to not having Josef or Frederick underfoot for a few weeks.

Frederick first planned on leaving in June. In March after he had received Radek’s clear approval, he moved the proposed tour up to May. Radek, apart from pointing out the unpredictability of the weather, made no objection. One month, either way, would make little difference.

On the night before he left, Katrina received permission from Radek to help Josef pack.  She told the boy that once across the border, if any chance at all offered itself to get away, he should take it. He could not return to New York.  Josef told her then how much he hated her.  He hated her lies. He never wanted to see her again and would not even think of her. The promise that he made so long ago, meant nothing. She had not kept her word.  She had promised a new world. What had he received? Josef had spent month after month looking out at a world to which he could never belong. Stupid, lying w***e.  Katrina, her face blank, continued with folding his clothes. She reminded him to brush his teeth before he went to sleep.  That last morning, before leaving for the ferry station, he refused to look at her, or to speak to her. He wanted the memory of that house, of her and of everything to do with it, to disappear. If he could just get away from there, but he knew that his attempt would fail, as had every other attempt.

The three of them travelled up the Hudson River to Albany.  There they took the train to Buffalo. By coach they went on to Niagara Falls. The weather was cool, but clear. They crossed the new suspension bridge into Canada without incident. Frederick took rooms at the Clifton House in the small village of Drummondville.

Canada. Josef hated the country.  He saw a cold, grey land, empty of hope. If he could slip away, where could he go?  The vastness of the land frightened him. Besides, Franz was always watching.   Josef knew what Franz would do to him if he caught him trying to escape, Frederick or no Frederick. Josef had to be certain that it would work before he tried.  The first chance had come at the falls. To get a better view, the three of them had climbed up a tower. As Josef stared down at the gorge below he knew that with just a step, he would be falling towards the tumbling waters, free of both of them. He could not do it. He remained rooted there until nudged to move on by Frederick. The incident confirmed what Josef already knew, that he was a coward, and that he would never try.

As they approached Kingston, the weather broke. The rain had become a solid sheet of water as the coach splashed over the cobblestones of Ontario Street. It stopped in front of the Prince George Hotel.  “Best in town sir,” the driver told Frederick.       

***

As he looked out the hotel window, Josef knew what was going to happen. Nothing. He was too busy brooding to notice Franz approaching until a great hand reached up and seizing the curtain, covered the window.

“There’s nothing out there for you, pig.”

“I was just looking.”

Franz sat and resumed his card playing. “Look at something else, pig.”

 “Don’t call me that.”

Josef had heard that word repeatedly from Herr Radek, from the Leuger twins, and from himself.   He knew that he would hear it again.  He just did not want to hear it then.

If Radek had been there he would have advised Franz to let the matter drop.  Radek was far away. Besides, Franz had never been very good at listening to advice, least of all where his small pleasures were concerned. Dropping a seven of hearts down upon an eight of spades, Franz smirked.  “So what do I call you, a sow?”

Josef grabbed a picture book and hurled it at the man’s head. He followed it with a ceramic vase. As Franz concentrated on ducking, Josef bolted for the door. Franz was on him before he had covered half the distance.

He picked up the kicking boy and jammed Josef against the wall. Unable to move, Josef replied by spitting in his face. Franz, as Josef knew he would do, threw back his arm to strike but then he froze. Undeniable evidence of an assault on Josef just might make Frederick angry enough, even in his feeble condition, to insist on dismissing him. With only Frederick to watch him, the boy would be free to run. How would Franz explain himself to Radek?

“No. I’ve got my orders. I’ll follow them.”  As he kept Josef pinned against the wall, Franz wiped the spittle off his face.  Punishment, he knew, came in many forms. He smiled.  “Those orders are going to change in a couple of months, pig. When they do, I’m going to remember this.”

Franz waited until the hate in the boy’s eyes ebbed away, replaced by despair, and by the realisation that he would never get away.  Franz released him. Josef dropped down to the floor. “Go ahead,” said Franz. “Call for help. When they come, I’ll tell them what you are.   I won’t be the only one to call you a sow then, will I?”

Franz remembered the weeks spent waiting on this whining little bumboy.  That mewling little pig had the best of everything. What did Franz have?   He had gained nothing except the right to be at the call of a degenerate coward and a fat slug. Franz could be out enjoying himself with a woman. Instead he had spent hour after hour, day after day, watching this filthy, little b*****d. Someday, he would show them all. Why not start with Josef?  Why not? Frederick would be too drunk to notice. The pig would never say anything.   He looked down at Josef whose knees were pulled up against his face Franz reached down, seized Josef’s legs and dragged him towards the bed.

As Franz pulled him up onto the bed Josef remembered what Katrina had told him. Never resist if you know that you cannot win. Survive and wait. Close your mind off from your body. Learn to see and feel only what the mind wishes. The rest is nothing. As Franz’s hand pressed his face into the pillow, Josef knew that he had no right to complain. This had all been his choice.

When it was over, Franz stood, tidied himself and looked at the mess scattered about the room.  “You had better clean this up. Then get back to bed. Frederick might need you tonight.”

Josef remained where he was, lying on his side, his bare knees pulled up, covering his face. He knew now what he had suspected for months, that Frederick could no longer protect him. He had not wanted to accept that as a fact until Franz had begun hauling him across the floor. Suppose he told Frederick? What would his Excellency do? Nothing. He could not have the man arrested. Everyone would know. If Frederick dismissed Franz, Franz would only come back to punish Josef. The one who would have to leave was Josef.  Ignoring the pain below his waist, he pulled himself up. Silent, he picked up the objects that he had thrown. The cards had already absorbed Franz.  Finished, Josef stumbled into the bed. He pulled the covers up over his head, creating a cocoon safe from the man’s eyes.

Frederick reeled into the room just after midnight. He lit a candle, shook the rain off his coat and hung it up on a hook on the back of the door. He removed his hat and coat and placed them on the door hook. Frederick pulled off his boots, blew out the candle and dropped into the bed. He fell asleep at once.

Josef pretended that he was asleep, keeping his eyes closed. However he opened them just before Frederick blew out the candle. Protruding from the door was the room key.  Josef lay still in the dark debating what to do. He had to be certain that Frederick was asleep. Josef also hoped that the rain would end. It showed no sign of doing so. He saw one other problem.  Franz might be on the other side of the door, waiting for him.  Then Josef asked himself, did it matter anymore?

He rose and dressed in the dark.  As he pulled on his shoes, Josef thought of going through Frederick’s clothes for money but then thought better of it.   He should just concentrate on getting out. He fumbled his way along the door until his fingers touched the key. The boy paused for a moment, listening for any sound in the hallway. Satisfied that all was silent, he turned the key. Removing it, he opened the room door.

Josef paused, still half-convinced that Franz was waiting. Then he pushed himself out into the hallway.  Turning, he inserted the key and locked the door.  Josef then crept down the gas-lit hallway towards the stairs. A light glimmered at the bottom of the stairway. He edged his way down, one step at a time. When he reached the bottom he found the night clerk, slumped over, asleep in his chair. Josef dashed for the door. Within a few seconds he was outside in the street.

As the rain poured down, he whirled himself around and threw the key as far as he could.  Then, unaware of the direction in which he was headed, and uncaring, he ran.  For hours he ran. The black of the night faded into the grey of the morning. Although the rain eased and slowed, he did not. He still ran along that empty road leading out of the town. The cobblestones gave way to mud. It slowed but did not stop him. At last, mud splattered, rain-soaked, crippled by a stabbing pain in his side and his legs, he could run no further. 

Josef had reached a bridge that crossed a canal lock. Beside the lock a blockhouse squatted. On the other side of the lock was a farm. Beyond the farm the road ran on turning in a great loop. Having caught his breath, Josef began to walk across the bridge. He shivered but did not mind the rain too much. He felt thankful for the cover that it provided him.

The sound of an approaching wagon caused him to dive into the trees along the road. Ignoring the scratches from the bushes that had blocked his way, he hid until the wagon moved on out of sight.   Even when he was not trying to conceal himself, he remained aware of every sudden noise, of the shaking of every branch, imagining them all to be Franz, waiting to jump out at him.  What Josef could not know was that the road running north from Kingston was in such poor condition that heavy traffic avoided it in bad weather. Travellers preferred the road running up from Brockville, or abandoned land travel in favour of a steamship.  For the rest of the morning, Josef had the road to himself.

A small black figure hunched against the rain, he trudged through the black muck, following it north. Towards noon the rain stopped. Josef found the remains of an abandoned cabin. He staggered inside, threw himself down into a leaf-filled corner, and slept.  He awoke to find that evening had settled.   His stomach craved food.   He could not keep from shivering from the cold. His legs and feet ached with every step. None of that mattered.                            Only distance mattered. Josef resumed his tramping.  The rain returned during the night. He trudged on passing through a small village. At the edge of the village was a church. Beside the church stood a tiny shed made from squared timbers, caulked with straw and mud.  A piece of twine fastened the door.  Josef undid the rope and pushed his way in. He slept for a few hours. Afraid of being discovered, he crept out at first light.

By the second day, his first need, distance, gave way to another, food.  As his hunger deepened, Josef realised the trap into which he had stumbled. He could not continue without food. He had no money to buy it. Josef did not dare ask anyone for help. If he was caught stealing, his arrest might guide Franz to him.  Josef thought that he found a temporary solution when he passed by a stream. To ease his hunger he drank as much water as he could hold. The result, a few minutes later, was severe stomach cramping. This led to an attack of flux; his soiling himself, and worst of all, a further draining of his strength.

That night he found shelter in a barn. He curled himself under a horse blanket, squeezing out of it a pittance of warmth. Through the third day he trudged on.  He ignored the aching in his stomach and legs, the bleeding from his bruised feet, the rain lashing him and the fever burning his skin.  Exhausted and blinded by the rain, he no longer cared where he was or where he was going. Capable only of dragging one foot at a time, he stumbled along the muddy track. He was lost somewhere in the midst of a jumble of trees, rock and rain. Josef was now deep in the great sleeve of rock and pine that separated the Saint Lawrence and Ottawa Valleys. The land was poor, the population scarce.  

He had blundered. He had taken the wrong turn in the dark and was walking blindly into a forest without end. Josef thought of turning back but behind him was Franz. Besides he was too tired. He had seen no sign of another road. He could only go on until, unable to take another step, he collapsed at the base of a large spruce. As he sat there beneath its boughs, trying to get the meager protection that it offered from the wind and rain, he wondered what he could do. More than anything else, Josef wanted to sleep. Then he saw the light.

A faint shimmer, it shone beyond the trees. Scrapping up the few traces of strength that remained deep within him, Josef staggered towards it.  He fought his way through bushes, stumbled over logs and roots and splashed through puddles. Then he broke through the cordon of trees onto a muddy track leading up towards the light. It shone from out of the front window of a farmhouse. Beyond the house, he could see the vague outline of a barn. His half-frozen hands thrust into his pockets, Josef gazed at the feeble beam.  As he shook from the cold, Josef told himself that he had gotten clear. He must have. All he had to do was to go up to the house and knock at the door. It would all be opened unto him, the food, and the warmth.  But the people would ask him who he was and where he was from. What would he tell them? Perhaps they already knew what he was.  They would send him back.  Staying with the animals would be safer. He turned away and splashed along the muddy path towards the barn.

Alex,  Amazon Press