Kane and Abel Read online

  On the third day at sea, Jerzy brought a Polish girl to their table for supper. Her name, he informed Wladek casually, was Zaphia. It was the first time in his life that Wladek had ever looked at a girl twice, and from that moment he couldn’t stop looking at her. She rekindled his memories of Florentyna. The warm grey eyes, the long fair hair that fell onto her shoulders, the soft, gentle voice. He found he wanted to touch her. She occasionally smiled across at Wladek, who was miserably aware of how much better looking Jerzy was than he. He tagged along when Jerzy escorted her back to the women’s quarters.

  Jerzy turned on him afterwards, mildly irritated. ‘Can’t you find a woman of your own? This one’s mine.’

  Wladek didn’t admit that he had no idea how to find a woman of his own.

  ‘There will be enough time for girls when we reach America,’ he said scornfully.

  ‘Why wait for America? I intend to have as many on this ship as possible.’

  ‘How will you manage that?’ asked Wladek, intent on acquiring knowledge without admitting to his ignorance.

  ‘We have twelve more days on this awful old tub, and by the time we reach America, I intend to have had twelve women,’ boasted Jerzy.

  ‘What can you do with twelve women?’ asked Wladek.

  ‘Fuck them, of course.’

  Wladek looked perplexed.

  ‘Good God,’ said Jerzy. ‘Don’t tell me the man who survived the Germans, escaped from the Russians, killed a man at the age of twelve and narrowly missed having his hand chopped off by a bunch of savage Turks has never bedded a woman?’ He laughed so loud that a multilingual chorus from the surrounding bunks told him to shut up.

  ‘Well,’ Jerzy continued in a whisper, ‘the time has come to broaden your education, because at last I’ve found something I can teach you.’ He peered over the side of his bunk, although he could not see Wladek’s face in the dark. ‘Zaphia’s an understanding sort of girl. I don’t doubt she could be persuaded to expand your education a little. I’ll see if I can arrange it.’

  Wladek didn’t reply.

  No more was said on the subject, but the next day Zaphia began to show a little more interest in Wladek. She sat next to him at mealtimes, and they talked for hours of their experiences and expectations. She was an orphan from Poznan, on her way to join cousins in Chicago. Wladek told her that he was going to New York, and would probably live with Jerzy.

  ‘I hope New York is not far from Chicago,’ said Zaphia.

  ‘You can come and see me when I am the mayor,’ said Jerzy expansively.

  She sniffed disparagingly. ‘You’re too Polish, Jerzy. You can’t speak good English like Wladek.’

  ‘I’ll learn,’ Jerzy said confidently. ‘And I’ll start by making my name American. From today I will be George Novak. Then I’ll have no trouble. Everyone in the United States will think I’m American. What about you, Wladek Koskiewicz? Nothing much you can do with a name like that?’

  Wladek looked at the newly christened George in silent resentment of his own name. Unable to adopt the title to which he felt himself the rightful heir, he hated the name Koskiewicz, which only reminded him of his illegitimacy.

  ‘I’ll manage,’ he said. ‘I’ll even help you with your English if you like.’

  ‘And I’ll help you find a girl.’

  Zaphia giggled. ‘You needn’t bother, he’s found one.’

  Jerzy, or George, as he now insisted they call him, retreated after supper each night into one of the tarpaulin-covered lifeboats with a different girl. Wladek longed to know what he got up to, even though some of the women George selected were not merely filthy, but would clearly have been unattractive even when scrubbed.

  One night after supper, when George had disappeared again, Wladek and Zaphia sat out on deck. She placed an arm around his neck and began to kiss him. He pressed his mouth firmly against hers; it felt horribly unfamiliar, and he didn’t know what to do next. To his surprise and embarrassment, her tongue parted his lips. After a few moments of apprehension, Wladek found her open mouth intensely exciting, and was alarmed to find his penis stiffening. He tried to draw away, not wishing to embarrass her, but she didn’t seem to mind. She began to press her body gently and rhythmically against his, and pulled his hands down to her buttocks. His swollen penis throbbed against her stomach, giving him almost unbearable pleasure. She disengaged her mouth and whispered in his ear.

  ‘I think the time has come to take your clothes off, Wladek.’ She detached herself, and burst out laughing when he didn’t move. ‘Well, maybe tomorrow,’ she said, pushing herself up off the deck before kissing him.

  Wladek stumbled back to his bunk in a daze, determined not to make a fool of himself a second time. No sooner had he settled in his berth, imagining what might have happened if he’d taken off his trousers, than a large hand grabbed him by the hair and pulled him out of his bunk and onto the floor. In an instant, any thoughts of Zaphia vanished. Two men he had never seen before towered above him. They dragged him to a far corner and pushed him up against the wall. One of them clamped his hand firmly over Wladek’s mouth, and held a knife to his throat.

  ‘Don’t make a sound, Polack’ whispered the man holding the knife, as he pushed the blade against Wladek’s skin. ‘All we want is the silver band.’

  The realization that his treasure might be stolen was almost as horrifying to Wladek as the thought of losing his hand. Before he could respond, the other man wrenched the band from his wrist.

  Suddenly someone leapt onto the back of the man holding the knife. This gave Wladek the chance to punch the one who was holding him pinned to the wall. The sleepy emigrants around them began to wake and take an interest in what was going on. The two intruders were no match for the Poles, and escaped as quickly as they could, but not before George had managed to stick the knife into the side of one of them.

  ‘Go to the cholera!’ shouted Wladek at his retreating back.

  ‘I don’t think they’ll be back in a hurry,’ said George. He looked down at the silver band lying in the sawdust on the floor. ‘It’s magnificent,’ he said almost reverently. ‘There will always be men who will go after such a prize.’

  Wladek picked up the band and slipped it back onto his wrist.

  ‘You nearly lost it that time,’ said George. ‘Lucky for you I was a little late getting back tonight.’

  ‘Why were you late?’ asked Wladek.

  ‘I found some other idiot in my lifeboat tonight, already with his pants down. I soon got rid of him.’

  ‘How did you manage that?’ asked Wladek as he climbed back into his bunk.

  ‘I told him the girl he was on top of had the pox. I’ve never seen anyone get dressed so quickly.’

  ‘What do you do when you’re in the lifeboat?’ asked Wladek.

  ‘Fuck them silly - what do you think I do?’ With that George rolled over and went to sleep.

  Lying in his bunk, unable to sleep, Wladek touched the silver band and thought about what George had said, wondering what it would be like to ‘fuck’ Zaphia.

  The next morning the ship was hit by a storm, and all the passengers were ordered below decks. The stench of so many bodies in close proximity, intensified by the ship’s heating system, seemed to permeate every inch of their quarters, and few escaped being violently sick.

  ‘The worst of it is,’ groaned George, ‘now I won’t be able to make it a round dozen.’

  When the storm abated, anyone who could still move headed for the decks. Wladek and George made their way around the crowded gangways, thankful to gulp the fresh sea air. Many of the girls smiled at George, but not one of them gave Wladek a second look. A dark-haired girl, her cheeks made pink by the wind, smiled when she passed George. He turned to Wladek.

  ‘I’ll have her tonight.’ Wladek stared at the girl and noticed the way she looked at George. ‘Tonight,’ he repeated as the girl passed within earshot. She pretended not to hear him, and walked away a little too quickly.


  ‘Turn round, Wladek, and see if she’s still looking at me.’

  Wladek turned around. ‘Yes, she is,’ he said, surprised.

  ‘She’s mine tonight,’ said George. ‘Have you had Zaphia yet?’

  ‘No,’ said Wladek. ‘Tonight.’

  ‘About time. After all, you’re never going to see her again once we’ve reached New York.’

  George arrived at supper that night with the dark-haired girl who they’d seen on deck. Wladek and Zaphia left them, went onto the deck and strolled around the ship several times. Wladek glanced sideways at her pleasing figure. It had to be now or never. He led her to a shadowy corner near one of the lifeboats, and started to kiss her. She responded by opening her mouth, then leant back a little until her shoulders were resting against the tarpaulin. They heard groans coming from inside the lifeboat. It didn’t help. Wladek moved towards her, and she drew his hands slowly up to her breasts. He touched them tentatively, surprised by their softness. She undid a couple of buttons on her blouse and slipped his hand inside. His first feel of her naked flesh was delicious.

  ‘Christ, your hand is frozen,’ Zaphia said.

  Wladek pulled her towards him, his mouth dry, his breath heavy. She parted her legs a little and Wladek fell clumsily against her, aware of several layers of clothing. She moved in sympathy with him for a couple of minutes, then pushed him away.

  ‘Not here on the deck,’ she said. ‘Let’s find a boat.’

  The first three boats they checked were already occupied, but they finally found an empty one and wriggled under the tarpaulin. In the pitch darkness, Wladek could hear her making some adjustments to her clothing. She then pulled him gently on top of her. It took her very little time to bring Wladek to his earlier pitch of excitement, despite the remaining layers of clothing. He thrust himself between her legs, and was on the point of orgasm when she again pushed him away.

  ‘Why don’t you undo your trousers?’ she whispered.

  He hurriedly undid his fly buttons and thrust himself inside her. He came almost immediately, and quickly withdrew, feeling the sticky sperm running down the inside of his thigh. He lay dazed, shocked by the abruptness of the act, painfully aware that the wooden notches of the lifeboat were digging uncomfortably into his elbows and knees.

  ‘Was that the first time you’ve made love to a girl?’ asked Zaphia, wishing he would climb off her.

  ‘No, of course not.’

  ‘Do you love me, Wladek?’

  ‘Yes, I do,’ he said. ‘And as soon as I’ve settled in New York, I’ll come and find you in Chicago.’

  ‘I’d like that, Wladek,’ she said as she buttoned up her dress. ‘I love you, too.’

  ‘Did you fuck her?’ was George’s first question on Wladek’s return.

  Yes.’

  ‘Was it good?’

  ‘Not bad,’ said Wladek, ‘but I’ve had better.’

  In the morning they were awakened by the noise of other passengers already celebrating their last day on board the Black Arrow. Some of them had been on deck long before sunrise, hoping to catch the first sight of land.

  Wladek packed his few belongings in his suitcase, put on his only suit and cap, and joined Zaphia and George on deck. The three of them peered into the distance, waiting in silence for their first glimpse of the United States of America.

  ‘There it is!’ shouted a passenger from a deck above them, and cheering broke out as more and more passengers spotted the grey strip of Long Island on the horizon.

  A little tug bustled up to the side of the Black Arrow and guided her between Brooklyn and Staten Island and on into New York Harbor. The Statue of Liberty seemed to welcome them, her lamp lifted high into the early morning sky. Wladek gazed in awe at the emerging skyline of Manhattan.

  Finally they moored near the turreted and spired red brick buildings of Ellis Island. The first- and second-class passengers who had private cabins and their own separate decks disembarked first. Wladek hadn’t caught a glimpse of them until that morning. Their bags were carried for them by porters, and they were greeted by smiling faces at the dockside. Wladek knew there would be no smiling faces to greet him.

  After the favoured few had disembarked, the captain announced over the loudspeaker that the rest of the passengers would not be leaving the ship for several hours. A groan of disappointment went up as the message was translated into various languages. Zaphia sat down on the deck and burst into tears. Wladek tried to comfort her. Eventually an immigration official came around with numbered labels which he hung round the passengers’ necks. Wladek’s was B.127; it reminded him of the last time he was a number. Would America turn out to be even worse than the Russian camps?

  In the middle of the afternoon - they had been offered no food, nor further information - an announcement over a loudspeaker told them they could disembark. Wladek, George and Zaphia joined the others as they shuffled slowly down the gangplank to set foot on American soil for the first time. Immediately the men were separated from the women and sent off to a different shed. Wladek kissed Zaphia and didn’t want to let her go, holding up the line. An official parted them.

  ‘All right, let’s get moving,’ he said. ‘You’ll be able to meet up on the other side.’ Wladek lost sight of Zaphia as he and George were pushed forward.

  They spent their first night in America in a damp shed. They were unable to sleep as interpreters moved among the crowded rows of bunks, offering assistance to the bewildered immigrants.

  In the morning they were lined up for medical examinations. Wladek was told to climb a steep flight of stairs, an exercise the blue-uniformed doctor made him repeat twice, observing his limp carefully. Wladek tried very hard to minimize it, until finally the doctor was satisfied. Wladek was next made to remove his cap and his stiff collar so that his face, eyes, hair, hands and neck could be examined carefully. The man standing behind him had a harelip; the doctor stopped him immediately, put a chalk cross on his right shoulder and sent him to the other end of the shed.

  After the physical was over, Wladek joined George to stand in another long line outside the Public Examination room, where each person was interviewed for about five minutes. Wladek could only wonder what they were being asked.

  It was three more hours before George was ushered into the tiny cubicle. When he came out, he grinned at Wladek. ‘Easy,’ he said, ‘even for someone as dumb as you.’

  Wladek could feel the palms of his hands sweating as he stepped forward and followed an official into a small, undecorated cubicle. There were two examiners seated behind a desk, writing furiously on what looked like official papers.

  ‘Do you speak English?’ asked the first.

  ‘Yes, sir, I do quite good,’ replied Wladek, wishing he had practised his English more on the voyage.

  ‘What is your name?’

  ‘Wladek Koskiewicz, sir.’

  The second man passed him a big black book. ‘Do you know what this is?’

  ‘Yes, sir, the Bible.’

  ‘Do you believe in God?’

  ‘Yes, sir, I do.’

  ‘Put your hand on the Bible and swear that you will answer our questions truthfully.’

  Wladek placed his right hand on the Bible and said, ‘I promise I tell the truth.’

  ‘What is your nationality?’

  ‘Polish.’

  ‘Who paid for your passage?’

  ‘I paid from my money that I earn in Polish consulate in Constantinople.’

  The first official studied Wladek’s papers, nodded and then asked, ‘Do you have a home to go to?’

  ‘Yes, sir. I go stay at Mr Peter Novak. He my friend’s uncle. He live in New York.’

  ‘Good. Do you have a job to go to?’

  ‘Yes, sir. I go work in bakery of Mr Novak.’

  ‘Have you ever been arrested?’ asked the other man.

  Russia flashed through Wladek’s mind. That couldn’t count. Turkey - he wasn’t going to mention that.

  �
��No, sir, never.’

  ‘Are you an anarchist?’

  ‘No, sir.’

  ‘Are you a communist?’

  ‘No, sir. I hate communists - they kill my sister.’

  ‘Are you willing to abide by the laws of the United States of America?’

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  ‘Have you any money?’

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  ‘May we see it?’

  ‘Yes, sir.’ Wladek placed a bundle of bills and a few coins on the table.

  ‘Thank you,’ said the examiner. ‘You may put the money back in your pocket.’

  ‘What is twenty-one plus twenty-four?’ the second examiner asked.

  ‘Forty-five,’ said Wladek without hesitation.

  ‘How many legs does a cow have?’

  Wladek could not believe his ears. ‘Four, sir,’ he said, wondering if it was a trick question.

  ‘And a horse?’

  ‘Four, sir,’ said Wladek, still in disbelief.

  ‘Which would you throw overboard if you were out at sea in a small boat which needed to be lightened, bread or money?’

  ‘The money, sir,’ said Wladek.

  ‘Good.’ The examiner picked up a card marked ‘Admitted’ and handed it to Wladek. ‘After you’ve changed your money for dollars, show this card to the Immigration Officer. Tell him your full name and he will give you a registration card. You will then be given an entry certificate. If you do not commit a crime for five years, then pass a simple reading and writing examination in English and agree to obey the Constitution, you will be allowed to apply for full United States citizenship. Good luck, Wladek.’

  ‘Thank you, sir.’

  At the money-exchange counter Wladek handed in a year’s worth of Turkish savings along with three 50-rouble notes. He was given $47 and 20 cents in exchange for the Turkish money, but was told the roubles were worthless. He thought of Dr Dubien and his fifteen years of diligent saving.

  The final step was to see the Immigration Officer, who was seated behind a counter near the exit barrier, directly under a picture of President Harding. Wladek and George walked across and stood in front of him.