Page 81 - LEIBY

Chapter 9 81

carriages. He stood as close as he could to the tracks, and as the
train passed him, he leaped high into the air and down into one
of the carriages. He rolled on the floor of the train, but quickly
got up and held onto a projection on the wall – at the speed the
train was traveling, he was in danger of being hurled outside if
he didn’t hold on tightly. A frigid wind hit him in the face, and
he shivered.

Eventually the train stopped at a station and Leiby jumped off.
His teeth chattered from cold and he hurried to find some hot
water. He filled the tin mug he always had on him and drank,
warming his hands on the sides of the mug, and planning his
next steps in his mind. He spotted a familiar figure – yes! It was
Berele, a veteran partisan who had served together with him in
their troop.

“Berele!” Leiby was happy to see him.

“Leiby!” Berele ran towards him. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m on a search for surviving relatives,” Leiby replied, “And
what about you?”

“I’m the supervisor of this station now,” Berele said proudly, and
led Leiby to his office. On the small metal plaque on the door
were the words “Boris Zuvatov – Supervisor.” The room was
furnished in good taste, with a large framed picture of Stalin on
the wall and a massive Red Army flag waving behind the desk.

Boris Zuvatov looked entirely different from how he had looked
in the forest. Then, his clothing had been tattered and torn, and
his hair had been long and wild. Now his hair was cropped
short and combed fastidiously, and the gold-framed glasses that
he wore gave him an air of authority.

“Berele,” Leiby complimented, still shivering. “It’s so nice and
warm here.”

“You look ill, Leiby,” Berele was concerned.

“I’m not ill, but I must have caught a bad cold.”

“Do you have a place to sleep?”