They reached the baggage car, and he stopped, saying, “The only ones crazy enough on this trip. Most people take the earlier train to Oebisfelde and try in the dark.”
“But I was told there were trees that would hide us.”
“There used to be trees you could sneak through to get across the border unseen,” he said as they got the wagon down. “They cut them down last week, and they’ve started to dig up the stumps. It’s becoming a real no-man’s-land near the border.”
No doubts, Adeline. You’re already there. Already in Emil’s arms.
“Thanks for the information,” she said, handing him the cigarettes. “And your kindness.”
Adeline expected him to say something snide. Instead, he took the cigarettes, sighed, and said, “Good luck to you, lady. And your kids. Someone told me if you see the medieval tower in the town, you’ve gone too far, and they’ll probably see and stop you before you can even try to start walking toward the border.”
“Good to know,” she said, and set off toward the boys with the little wagon.
The conductor climbed aboard the first passenger car. By the time Adeline reached Will and Walt, the train was pulling out, leaving them alone on the platform, with the eastern horizon now pale purple slashed with moody reds.
Will danced around and said, “I’m thirsty, and I have to go pee.”
“So do I,” Walt said.
“You can’t go here,” she said. “Outside.”
They pushed and pulled the cart through the empty station. Adeline noticed the wagon felt odd, as if one of the wheels were out of line and dragging as they went out onto snowy steps that overlooked the intersection of a road running west parallel to the railroad tracks and another that wound south into the town, which was where Frau Schmidt had said to go.
“They’ll stop you at the border if you try the paved road next to the rail tracks or the paved road on the south side of town,” Frau Schmidt said. “But Peter and I were told that midway between the two roads, there’s a diagonal alley to your right. It will lead you to a lane that cuts west through farmland to the town of Danndorf, about four or five kilometers away.
“Just before the border itself, on your left about one hundred and fifty meters, you will see a two-story house where Soviet soldiers watch the lane and the paved road to the south. But the lane goes into trees that shield the border near there. If you can get to those trees without being seen and stay hidden, they won’t see you cross until it’s too late.”
But the trees have been cut down!
“Mama!” Will whispered, dancing about. “I have to pee as bad as that time you made me pee in the jar.”
Walt said, “I have to pee but not that bad.”
“Go,” she said, pointing to her right. “Over there, while I get the wagon down the steps.”
The boys hurried down the stairs, over to some bushes, and unbuttoned their flies. She tried to ease the wagon down the steps, but the weight got away from her, and it went bouncing down into the slushy street with four big thumps and a crack.
“What was that, Mama?” Will whispered.
She pushed on the wagon, felt it roll, and said, “I don’t know.”
Will finished and hurried to her. Adeline glanced east at the red-and-purple horizon growing brighter and felt panic again. She looked back toward Walt, who was just standing there by the bushes, peering around as if they had all the time in the world.
“Let’s go, Walt!” she hissed.
“He’s always like that,” Will said as Walt startled and ran toward them.
Adeline could almost make out her older son’s features in the dawn light when he puffed up to them. She knew their chance for easy freedom was slipping away, second by second.
“Both of you behind the wagon,” she said. “Quick now. And if you see an old tower ahead of us, tell me to stop.”
They made it two steps before the arm that held the front right wheel to the wagon snapped and the wheel fell off. The wagon tilted and sagged on top of it. Adeline stared at the broken wheel lying in the slush.
“What do we do?” Will asked.
Adeline wanted to cry. But sunrise was coming. She had to act, and fast.
Going around to the wagon’s opposite side, she saw that the front and back wheel arms were bolted into rectangular support structures, each made of four wooden bars. The longer sides of the rectangle were bolted across the bottom of the wagon about fifteen centimeters apart. The shorter wooden bars were bolted over and into the crossbars.
Adeline noticed a gap of perhaps five centimeters between the short bars and the bottom of the wagon and was inspired. Finding a large rock, she used it to pound at the left, top, side rail and soon had it separated from the wagon.
She beat down the nails so they would not cut her, then fed the rail through the gap in the front-wheel support from the left side to the right. The rail now stuck out from the bottom of both sides of the wagon a good thirty centimeters.
Adeline got a piece of rope she’d used to bind some of their things in a bundle, cut it in two, and used the pieces to tie the rail in place on both sides of the wagon. It took far too long. The sun was rising as she finished. For a moment, she thought about turning back, but the idea of being in Emil’s arms would not let her.
“Walt, come around front and take the handle. Will, you still push.”
With that, Adeline went around to the right side, squatted to grab the rail, and lifted it and the wagon’s front end, becoming the fourth wheel. She had to adopt an
