She leans into him. ‘When Kari wakes up, let’s put him in his pram and go for a walk. I think that’s how I’d like to say goodbye, with one last stroll around town.’
Slowly, the small family makes its way through the streets of Bratislava. Cibi sees the chocolate shop where Livi had once been humiliated for having the audacity to buy a treat. It was the incident which broke the camel’s back, thinks Cibi. It broke all our backs. She’s ready to say goodbye.
‘Let’s go home, shall we?’ she says to Mischka, who turns the pram round.
*
Uncle Ivan struggles with the pram, all too aware of the bus driver huffing and sighing as he waits to load it into the back of the bus with the rest of their luggage. Mischka, Kari in his arms, is trying to stifle his giggles as he and Cibi watch Ivan fumbling and cursing.
‘Give him a hand, Cibi, please. Put him out of his misery,’ Mischka says, eventually.
Ivan holds up his hands in surrender and Cibi takes the pram and hands it to the bus driver in a single swift manoeuvre.
Ivan shakes hands with Mischka, pats Kari on the head and opens his arms for his niece. ‘Irinka, the children and I will be with you before you know it,’ he says.
‘We won’t rest until we’re together again,’ whispers Cibi. ‘And safe.’
‘This bus is leaving with or without you,’ the bus driver grumbles.
Cibi, Mischka and even Kari wave at Ivan until he is out of sight.
On Cibi’s lap, Kari is glued to the window, transfixed by the buildings, the cars and the people outside. Say goodbye, little baby, thinks Cibi. We’re going on an adventure. A big adventure too: they have borders to cross, documents to be examined and questions answered before they reach – and cross – Italy, where a ship awaits them in Genoa for their passage to Haifa. It’s the questions to be answered that gnaw at Cibi: she has had her fill of army officials in spotless uniforms standing between her and her freedom.
‘How long before we get to the border?’ Cibi asks in a small voice. They are the only ones with so much luggage; it’s obvious to everyone on the bus that they’re trying to leave the country. With a defiant tilt of the head, Cibi meets the glares of some of the other passengers aboard, who muttered ‘Jew’ under their breaths as she and Mischka moved down the bus.
‘Which border?’ Mischka asks.
‘Austria, our first test.’
‘Not long, half an hour. Depends how many stops we make. We’ll be fine because we have all the right documents. Will you stop worrying?’
Cibi squeezes the handles of her handbag, their future contained therein: government documents granting them permission to migrate to Israel. ‘Good riddance,’ the town hall official had said when he handed them over. But Cibi hadn’t cared: she’d felt the same about him.
Two stops later, the bus is pulling in behind a line of cars and trucks at the border between Czechoslovakia and Austria. Cibi’s pulse quickens when she spots the armed soldiers walking up and down the rows of vehicles. Their brown uniforms, whilst simple and unadorned with medals, nevertheless send a shiver down her spine. Instinctively, she clutches Kari to her chest. He lets out a cry and Cibi releases him.
Beyond the barrier she sees the Austrian soldiers wandering along the rows of vehicles waiting to enter Czechoslovakia.
The barrier is raised and lowered, raised and lowered, and very slowly the vehicles begin to inch forwards. Cibi watches as most of the cars are waved through the border, but notes, with a growing sense of dread, that some are being turned back.
Finally, the doors of the bus slide open and two soldiers step aboard, one heading for the back of the bus and the other starting at the front. Knowing what to expect, all the passengers have their documents ready and hand them to the officials when requested.
Cibi passes their papers to Mischka who offers them to the approaching soldier. Kari squeals with happiness while they are being examined. The soldier offers the baby a smile before saying, ‘Jude?’ to Mischka.
‘Yes. We are moving to Israel,’ Mischka tells him.
‘Why? Don’t you want to live in the country of your birth?’ The man has a steady gaze and Cibi wants to slap it off his face. Would you want to stay here after what we’ve been through? she wants to scream.
‘The only family we have left are in Israel and we want to be with them,’ Mischka tells him, with an equally steady gaze.
‘Good luck.’ The soldier hands the documents back and they have passed the first test.