Kane & Abel

122 Pages·1978·0.56 MB·English

by  Archer Jeffrey

He moved to the other side of the carriage to make sure he could still spot the
man cheating when facing him, but he couldn't. He edged forward and made a
place for himself in the circle of gamblers. Every time the cheat had lost twice in
a row, Wladek backed him with one ruble, doubling his stake until he won. The
cheat was either flattered or considered he would be wise to remain silent about
Wladek's luck, because he never once even glanced in his direction. By the time
they reached the next station, Wladek had won fourteen rubles, two of which he
used to buy himself an apple and a cup of hot soup. He had won enough to last
the entire journey to Odessa and, pleased with the thought that he could win
even more rubles with his new safe system, he silently thanked the unknown
gambler and climbed back on to the train ready to resume the strategy. As his
foot touched the top step, he was knocked flying into a corner. His arm was
jerked painfully behind his back and his face was pushed hard against the
carriage wall. His nose began to bleed and he could feel the point of a knife
touching the lobe of his ear.
'Do you hear me, boNr?'
'Yes,' said Wladek, petrified.
'If you go back to my carriage again, I take this car right off, then you won't be
able to hear me, will you?'
'No, sir,' said Wladek.
Wladek felt the point of the knife breaking the surface of the skin behind his ear
and blood began trickling down his neck.
'Let that be a warning to you, boy!'
A knee suddenly came up into his kidneys with as much force as the gambler
could muster. Wladek collapsed to the ground. A hand rummaged into his coat
pockets and the recently acquired rubles were removed.
'Mine, I think,' the voice said.
Blood was now coming out of Wladek's nose and from behind his ear.
When he summoned up the courage to look up from the corner of the corridor, it
was empty, and there was no sign of the gambler. Wladek tried to get to his feet,
was empty, and there was no sign of the gambler. Wladek tried to get to his feet,
but his body refused to obey the order from his brain, so he remained slumped in
the corner for several minutes. Eventually when he was able to rise, he walked
slowly to the other end of the train, as far away from the gambler's carriage as
possible, his limp grotesquely exaggerated. He hid in a carriage occupied mostly
by women and children, and fell into a deep sleep.
At the next stop, Wladek didn't leave the train. He undid his little parcel and
started to investigate. Apples, bread, nuts, two shirts, a pair of trousers and even
shoes were contained in that brown-papered treasure trove. What a woman, what
a husband.
He ate, he slept, he dreamed. And finally, after six nights and five days, the train
chugged into the terminal at Odessa. The same check at the ticket barrier, but the
guard hardly gave Wladek a second look. This time his papers were all in order,
but now he was on his own. He still had one hundred and fifty rubles in the
lining of his suit, and no intend on of wasting any of them.
Wladek spent the rest of the day walking around the town trying to familiarise
himself with its geography, but he found he was continually distracted by sights
he had never log seen before: big town houses, shops with windows, hawkers
selling their colourful trinkets on the street, gaslights, and even a monkey on a
stick.
Wladek walked on until he reached the harbour and stopped to stare at the open
sea beyond it. Yes, there it was - what the Baron had called an ocean.
He gazed into the blue expanse longingly: that way was freedom and escape
from Russia. The city must have seen its fair share of fighting: bumt-out houses
and squalor were all too evident, grotesque in the mild, flower-scented sea air.
Wladek wondered whether the city was still at war.
There was no one he could ask. As the sun disappeared behind the high
buildings, he began to look for somewhere to spent the night. Wladek took a side
road and kept walking. He must have looked a strange sight with his skin coat
dragging along the ground and the brown paper parcel under his arm. Nothing
looked safe to him until he came across a railway siding in which a solitary old
carriage stood in isolation. He stared into it cautiously; darkness and silence: no
one was there.. He threw his paper parcel into the carriage, raised his tired body
up on to the boards, crawled into a comer and lay down to sleep. As his head
touched the wooden floor, a body leaped on top of him and two hands were
touched the wooden floor, a body leaped on top of him and two hands were
quickly around his throat. He could barely breathe.
'Who are you?' hissed a boy who, in the darkness, sounded no older than himself.
'Wladek Koskiewicz.'
'Where do you come from?'
'Moscow.' Slonim had been on the tip of Wladek's tongue. 'Well, you're not
sleeping in my carriage, Muscovite,' said the voice.
'Sorry,' said Wladek. 'I didn't know.'
'Got any money?' His thumbs pressed into Wladek's throat.
'A little,' said Wadek.
'How much?'
'Seven rubles.'
'Hand it over.'
Wladek rummaged in the pocket of his overcoat, while the boy also pushed one
hand firmly into it, releasing the pressure on Wladek's throat.
In one movement, Wladek brought up his knee with every ounce of force he
could muster into the boy's crotch. His attacker flew back in agony, clutching his
testicles. Wladek leaped on him, hitting him in places the boy would never have
thought of. The rules had suddenly changed. He was no competition for Wladek;
sleeping in a derelict carriage was five-star luxury compared to the dungeons and
a Russian labour camp.
Wladek stopped only when his adversary was pinned to the carriage. floor,
helpless. The boy pleaded with Wladek.
'Go to the far end of the carriage and stay there,' said Wladek. 'If you so much as
move a muscle, I'll kill you.'
'Yes, yes,' said the boy, scrambling away.
Wladek heard him hit the far end of the carriage. He sat still and listened for a
few moments - no movement - then he lowered his head once more on to the
floor, and in moments he was sleeping soundly.
When he awoke, the sun was already sliining through the slits between the
boards of the carriage. He turned over slowly and studied his adversary of the
previous night for the first time. He was lying in a foetal position, still asleep at
the other end of the carriage.
'Come here,'commanded Wladek.
The boy woke slowly.
'Come here,' repeated Wladek, a little more loudly.
The boy obeyed immediately. It was the first chance Wladek had had to look at
him properly. They were about the same age, but the boy was a clear foot taller
with a younger-looking face and scruffy fair hair. His general appearance
suggested that talk of soap and water would have been treated as an insult.
'Firse things first,' said Wladek. 'How does one get something to eat here?'
'Follow me,' said the boy, leaping out of the carriage. Wladek limped after him
and followed the boy up the hill into the town where the morning market was
being set up.
He had not seen so much wholesome food since those magnificent dinners with
the Baron. Row upon row of stalls with fruit, vegetables, greens, and even his
favourite nuts. The boy could see Wladek was overwhelmed by the sight.
'Now I'll tell you what we do,' the boy said, sounding confident for the first time.
'I will go over to the corner stall and steal an orange, and then make a run for it.
You will shout at the top of your voice, 'Stop thief. 'The stallkeeper will chase
me and when he does, you move in and fill your pockets. Don't be greedy;
enough for one meal. Then you return here. Got it?'
'Yes, I think so,' said Wladek.
'Let's see if you're up to it, Moscovite.' The boy looked at him, snarled, and was
gone. Wladek watched him in admiration as he swaggered to the corner of the
first market stall, removed an orange from the top of a pyramid, made some
first market stall, removed an orange from the top of a pyramid, made some
short unheard remark to the stallkeeper and started to run slowly. He glanced
back at Wladek, who had entirely forgotten to shout 'Stop thief, but the stall
owner looked up and immediately began to chase the boy. While everyone's eyes
were on Wladek's accomplice, he moved in quickly and managed to take three
oranges, an apple and a potato, and put them in the large pockets of his overcoat.
When the stallkeeper looked as if he were about to catch his accomplice, the boy
lobbed the orange back at him. The man stopped to pick it up and swore at him,
waving his fist, complaining vociferously to the other merchants as he returned
to his stall.
Wladek was shaking with mirth as he took in the scene when a hand was placed
firmly on his shoulder. He turned round in the horror of having been caught.
'Did you get anything, Moscovite, or are you only here as a sightseer?'
Wladek burst out laughing with relief and produced the three oranges, apple and
potato. The boy joined in the laughter.
'What's your name?' said Wladek.
'Stefan.'
'Let's do it again, Stefan.'
'Hold on, Muscovite, don't you start getting too clever. If we do my scheme
again, we'll have to go to the other end of the market and wait for at least an
hour. You're working with a professional now, but don't imagine you won't get
caught occasionally!'
The two boys went quietly through to the other end of the market, Stefan
walking with a swagger for which Wladek would have traded the three oranges,
apple, potato and his one hundred and fifty rubles. They mingled with the
morning shoppers and when Stefan decided the time was right, they repeated the
trick twice. Satisfied with the results, they returned to the railway carriage to
enjoy their captured spoils; six oranges, five apples, three potatoes, a pear,
several varieties of nuts, and the special prize, a melon. In the past, Stefan had
never had pockets big enough to hold one. Wladek's greatcoat took care of that.
'Not bad,' said Wladek, as he dug his teeth into a potato.
'Do you eat the skins as well?' asked Stefan, horrified.
'I've been places where the skins are a luxury,' replied Wladek.
Stefan looked at him with admiration.
'Next problem is how do we get some money? said Wladek.
'You want everything in one day, don't you, o master?' said Stefan. 'Chain gang
on the waterfront is the best bet, if you think you're up to some real work,
Muscovite.'
'Show me,' said Wladek.
After they bad eaten half the fruit and hidden the rest under the straw in the
corner of the carriage, Stefan took Wladek down the steps to the harbour and
showed him all the ships. Wladek couldn't believe his eyes.
He had been told by the Baron of the great ships that crossed the high seas
delivering their cargoes to foreign lands, but these were so much bigger than he
had ever imagined, and they stood in a line as far as the eye could see.
Stefan interrupted his thoughts. 'See that one over there, the big green one; well,
what you have to do is pick up a basket at the bottom of the gangplank, fill it
with grain, climb up the ladder and then drop your load in the hold. You get a
ruble for every four trips you make. Be sure you can count, Muscovite, because
the bastard in charge of the gang will swindle you as soon as look at you and
pocket the money for himself.'
Stefan and Wladek spent the rest of the afternoon carrying -grain up the ladder.
They made twenty-six rubles between them. After a dinner of stolen nuts, bread,
and an onion they hadn't intended to take, they slept happily in their carriage.
Wladek was the first to wake the next morning and Stefan found him studying
his map.
'What's that?' asked Stefan.
'This is a route showing me how to get out of Russia.'
'What do you want to leave Russia for when you can stay here and team up with
'What do you want to leave Russia for when you can stay here and team up with
me?' said Stefan. 'We could be partners.'
'No, I must get to Turkey; there I will be a free man for the first time. Why don't
you come with me, Stefan?'
'I could never leave Odessa. This is my home, the railway is where I live and
these are the people I have known all my life. It's not good, but it might be worse
in the place you call Turkey. But if that's what you want, I will help you to
escape because I know how to find out where every ship has come from.'
'How do I discover which ship is going to Turkey?' asked Wladek.
'Easy. We'll get the information from One Tooth Joe at the end of the pier. You'll
have to give him a ruble!'
'I'll bet he splits the money with you.'
'Fifty-fifty,' said Stefan. 'You're learning fast, Muscovite.' And with that he
leaped out of the carriage.
Wladek followed him as he ran swiftly between the carriages, again conscious of
how easily other boys moved, and how he limped. When they reached the end of
the pier, Stefan took him into a small room full of dust-covered books and old
timetables. Wladek couldn't see anyone there, but then he heard a voice from
behind a large pile of books saying, 'What do you want, urchin? I don't have time
to waste on you.'
'Some information for my travelling companion, Joe. When is the next luxury
cruise to Turkey?'
'Money up front,' said an old man whose head appeared from behind the books, a
lined weatherbeaten face wearing a seaman's cap. His black eyes were taking in
Wladek.
'Used to be a great sea dog,' said Stefan in a whisper loud enough for Joe to hear.
'None of your cheek, boy. Where is the ruble?'
'My friend carries my purse,' said Stefan. 'Show him the ruble, Wladek.'
Wladek pulled out a coin. Joe bit it with his one remaining tooth, shuffled over
Wladek pulled out a coin. Joe bit it with his one remaining tooth, shuffled over
to the bookcase and pulled out a large green timetable.
Dust flew everywbere. He started coughing as he thumbed through the dirty
pages, moving his short, stubby, rope-worn finger down the long columns of
names.
'Next Thursday the Renaska is coming in to pick up coal, probably will leave on
Saturday. If the ship can load quickly enough, she may sail on the Friday night
and save the berthing tariffs. She'll dock on berth seventeen.'
'Thanks, One Tooth,' said Stefan. 'I'll see if I can bring along any more of my
wealthy associates in the future!'
One Tooth Joe raised his fist cursing, as Stefan and Wladek ran out on to the
wharf.
For the next three days the two boys stole food, loaded grain and slept.
By the time the Turkish ship arrived on the following Thursday, Stefan bad
almost convinced Wladek that be should remain in Odessa. But Wladek's fear of
the Russians outweighed the atiraction of his new life with Stefan.
They stood on the quayside, staring at the new arrival docking at berth 17.
'How will I ever get on the ship?' asked Wladek.
'Simple,' said Stefan. 'We can join the chain gang tomorrow morning. I'll take the
place behind you, and when the coal hold is nearly full, you can jump in and
hide while I pick up your basket and walk on down the other side.'
'And collect my share of the money, no doubt,' said Wladek.
'Naturally,' said Stefan. 'There must be some financial reward for my superior
intelligence or how could a man hope to sustain his belief in free enterprise?'
They joined the chain gang first diing the next morning and hauled coal up and
down the gangplank until they were both ready to drop, but it still wasn't enough.
The hold wasn't half full by nightfall. The two black boys slept soundly that
night. The following morning, they started again and by mid-af temoon, when
the hold was nearly full, Stefan kicked Wladek's ankle.
'Next time, Muscovite,' he said.
When they reached the top of the gangway, Wladek threw his coal in, dropped
the basket on the deck, jumped over the side of the hold and landed on the coal,
while Stefan picked up his basket and continued down the other side of the
gangplank whistling.
'Goodbye., my friend,' he said, 'and good luck with the infidel Turks!'
Wladek pressed himself against a corner of the hold and watched the coal come
pouring in beside him. The dust was everywhere, in his nose and mouth, in his
lungs and eyes. With painful effort he avoided coughing for fear of being heard
by one of the ship's crew. Just as he thought that he could no longer bear the air
of the hold, and would have to return to Stefan and think of some other way of
escape, he saw the doors slide shut above him. He coughed luxuriously.
After a few moments he felt something take a bite at his ankle. His blood went
cold, realising what it had to be. He looked down, trying to work out where it
had come from. No sooner had he thrown a piece of coal at the monster and sent
him scurrying away than another one came at him, then another and another. The
braver ones went for his legs. They seemed to appear from nowhere. Black,
large, and hungry. It was the first time in his life that Wladek realised that rats
had red eyes. He clambered to the top of the pile of coal and pulled open the
hatch. The sunlight came flooding through arid the rats disappeared back into
their tunnels in the coal. He started to climb out, but the ship was already well
clear of the quayside. He fell back into the hold, terrified.
If the ship were forced to return and hand Wladek over, he knew it would mean
a one-way journey back to camp 201 and the White Russians. He chose to stay
with the black rats. As soon as Wladek closed the hatch, they came at him again.
As fast as he could throw lumps of coal at the verminous creatures, a new one
would appear from another angle. Every few moments Wladek had to open the
hatch to let some light in, for light seemed to be the only ally that would frighten
the black rodents away.
For two days and three nights Wladek waged a running battle with the rats
without ever catching a moment of quiet sleep. When the ship finally reached the
port of Constantinople and a deck-hand opened the hold, Wladek was black from
his head to his knees with dirt, and red from his knees to his toes with blood. The
deck-hand dragged him out. Wladek tried to stand up but collapsed in a heap on