been alone since she came to my darkroom looking for the photo of herself with Bozek.
Her eyes grow round at the sight of the boat. “Is this
yours
?”
I nod, my heart rolling loose.
“What’s it for?”
“A trip to Yugoslavia.”
“Isn’t it early to go on vacation? School isn’t out for a long time.”
I shrug. “My father wants to go before the summer crowds.”
“
The Fancy Free,
” she says, tracing the script with her fingertip. “That’s a nice name.”
A name that gives it all away.
“My father let me drive,” I tell her.
Her eyes widen again. “All by yourself?”
“Of course. It was easy.”
Her eyes brighten. Probably even Bozek hasn’t driven a car with a boat in tow.
Tati returns with cables and two padlocks. We tie the boat to the pole, Danika threading a cable through the metal rings.
When the boat is secured, Tati goes inside, leaving Danika and me behind. The lights in the parking lot come on, turning the air from gray to orange. The nighttime crickets begin to whir.
“I have something to tell you,” Danika says. She edges close and I flinch at her familiar scent. She pauses, then says, “My father joined.”
It’s like a padlock snapping shut. “Fantastic. That’s fantastic news.”
“I know you don’t approve, Patrik. I know”— she drops her voice —“that your family isn’t pro-party. But just think what this will mean for
my
family.” Her gaze outlines our escape vessel. “I thought you should know.”
“Okay. You’ve done your duty. Now I know.” I lean against the boat’s revealing name. “I ask just one thing, Danika. Leave us alone. Leave my family alone.”
“Why, Patrik, I’d never . . .”
“The damage is done. Just imagine me working deep under the dark ground.”
She passes one hand over her forehead, saying, “My father had nothing to do with that.”
“Save it,” I mutter, striding away.
Upstairs, Tati has folded up the tan bill of sale and is tucking it into his wallet. Mami busily smoothes the doilies on the arms of the chairs. Bela plays with her doll, the miniature furniture made of boxes strewn across the floor.
I approach Tati, pulling up a chair until it rests arm to arm with his. I place my hand over the doily. I feel the neat pattern against my palm, then whisper, “We have to be careful. Mr. Holub has joined the party.”
Tati shuts his wallet, grips it with both hands. “How long have you known this, Patrik?”
“I just learned.” Which is not technically a lie.
Mami begins to straighten the doilies all over again.
“What are we going to do?” I ask. Already shadows are crisscrossing the windows.
Tati slaps the wallet against his open palm. “We’ll have to leave very soon,” he says. “We’ll begin preparations.”
“Can’t we go right away?”
“We’re not even packed, Patrik. There are matters to be attended to.”
“Like the travel permission.”
“Exactly.”
“And what other matters?”
“There are some patients I have to see.”
“Patients?”
How could any patient be in worse shape than we are?
“And I have an important meeting the day after tomorrow.”
On the day we leave for Italy, it will be way too late. The waves will be choppy, the wind stiff. Clouds will be bunched along the Italian horizon, purple and mean. Two patrol boats will circle the water, the wind slapping their flags.
Suddenly, the wind will pick up. It’ll hurtle the storm toward us, the waves rearing higher. All the other boats will head for shore.
But we’ll aim for Italy, storm or no storm.
With rain falling in drops the size of coins, the patrol boats will gain on us. The guards will stand up, waving their arms, roaring a stream of threats and outrage through their megaphones.
I go to my room and lie down on the bed that is right below Danika’s. The smell of developing fluids eases through the closet door. Outside, the men with the walkie-talkies are probably nosing around
The Fancy
Her eyes grow round at the sight of the boat. “Is this
yours
?”
I nod, my heart rolling loose.
“What’s it for?”
“A trip to Yugoslavia.”
“Isn’t it early to go on vacation? School isn’t out for a long time.”
I shrug. “My father wants to go before the summer crowds.”
“
The Fancy Free,
” she says, tracing the script with her fingertip. “That’s a nice name.”
A name that gives it all away.
“My father let me drive,” I tell her.
Her eyes widen again. “All by yourself?”
“Of course. It was easy.”
Her eyes brighten. Probably even Bozek hasn’t driven a car with a boat in tow.
Tati returns with cables and two padlocks. We tie the boat to the pole, Danika threading a cable through the metal rings.
When the boat is secured, Tati goes inside, leaving Danika and me behind. The lights in the parking lot come on, turning the air from gray to orange. The nighttime crickets begin to whir.
“I have something to tell you,” Danika says. She edges close and I flinch at her familiar scent. She pauses, then says, “My father joined.”
It’s like a padlock snapping shut. “Fantastic. That’s fantastic news.”
“I know you don’t approve, Patrik. I know”— she drops her voice —“that your family isn’t pro-party. But just think what this will mean for
my
family.” Her gaze outlines our escape vessel. “I thought you should know.”
“Okay. You’ve done your duty. Now I know.” I lean against the boat’s revealing name. “I ask just one thing, Danika. Leave us alone. Leave my family alone.”
“Why, Patrik, I’d never . . .”
“The damage is done. Just imagine me working deep under the dark ground.”
She passes one hand over her forehead, saying, “My father had nothing to do with that.”
“Save it,” I mutter, striding away.
Upstairs, Tati has folded up the tan bill of sale and is tucking it into his wallet. Mami busily smoothes the doilies on the arms of the chairs. Bela plays with her doll, the miniature furniture made of boxes strewn across the floor.
I approach Tati, pulling up a chair until it rests arm to arm with his. I place my hand over the doily. I feel the neat pattern against my palm, then whisper, “We have to be careful. Mr. Holub has joined the party.”
Tati shuts his wallet, grips it with both hands. “How long have you known this, Patrik?”
“I just learned.” Which is not technically a lie.
Mami begins to straighten the doilies all over again.
“What are we going to do?” I ask. Already shadows are crisscrossing the windows.
Tati slaps the wallet against his open palm. “We’ll have to leave very soon,” he says. “We’ll begin preparations.”
“Can’t we go right away?”
“We’re not even packed, Patrik. There are matters to be attended to.”
“Like the travel permission.”
“Exactly.”
“And what other matters?”
“There are some patients I have to see.”
“Patients?”
How could any patient be in worse shape than we are?
“And I have an important meeting the day after tomorrow.”
On the day we leave for Italy, it will be way too late. The waves will be choppy, the wind stiff. Clouds will be bunched along the Italian horizon, purple and mean. Two patrol boats will circle the water, the wind slapping their flags.
Suddenly, the wind will pick up. It’ll hurtle the storm toward us, the waves rearing higher. All the other boats will head for shore.
But we’ll aim for Italy, storm or no storm.
With rain falling in drops the size of coins, the patrol boats will gain on us. The guards will stand up, waving their arms, roaring a stream of threats and outrage through their megaphones.
I go to my room and lie down on the bed that is right below Danika’s. The smell of developing fluids eases through the closet door. Outside, the men with the walkie-talkies are probably nosing around
The Fancy
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