Aharon Appelfeld - Until the Dawn's Light

She returned home at one thirty and told Kirtzl she’d found work. Then she talked with Otto and played with him on the floor. Otto was happy, as though he understood that from now on his mother would no longer abandon him for long periods of time. An hour later she left the house and hurried to the railway station. First she thought of traveling to Winterweiss, where her parents used to go on vacation, but at the last moment she changed her mind and got off at Hochstein, a small and little-known town. She rented a room in a pension and took a bath. Then she saw Adolf’s long arm before her eyes as he raised his belt against her. She felt the dizziness and the heavy stumble that quickly followed, then the effort to rise, then the blurred sensations and the weak knees. For a moment it seemed to her that Adolf was in the corridor, lying in wait for her. She buried her face in her hands, as she did when he whipped her back.

But this time he wasn’t there, he wasn’t lying in wait. The small, quiet room, filled with houseplants and covered with carpets, seemed to say, Here no one meddles in anyone else’s life. The owner of the pension is a delicate woman who guards the privacy of her tenants . The thick silence enveloped her, and she fell asleep.

Blanca slept for the rest of the day. When she awakened, she was very thirsty. She hurried to a café and ordered a cup of coffee and some cheesecake. The cake was tasty, and she ordered another slice. She sat in the café for about two hours, and the more she sat, the more her mind was emptied of thoughts. It seemed to her that all the people sitting around her and drinking coffee were much taller than she, and they knew what to do with their lives.

Then she went outside and sat on a bench. The small, unfamiliar town, about two hundred kilometers from her hometown and lit with a summer sun, felt very pleasant to her. For a moment it seemed to her that if she stayed there for a few days, her life would go back to the way it used to be, and everything would start afresh. She saw clearly the two thick mathematics books that her father used to peruse eagerly in his free time. Everything begins here, he would say with envy. Once I, too, had ideas, she thought, but they’ve vanished . At special times Blanca’s father would write out a formula for her and explain the greatness that dwelt within it.

Blanca had planned to go back and see Otto toward the evening. But she didn’t. The night was tranquil, and people strolled along the boulevard. The light danced in and out of the trees and brought hidden colors to mind. There was a time when colors like those would wash over her in the evenings and move her to tears. Mama, she was about to get up and say, I haven’t gone far away. I’ll wait for you .

Ever since she had left Blumenthal, Blanca had seen her parents with every step she took. Usually they were separate, but sometimes she saw them together, as though they knew that her life was approaching the abyss.

The next day, Blanca sat on the same bench and drank in the light. The longer she sat there, the more she felt that she was shedding the years, that in a little while she would return to the time when she would come home from school and immediately lose herself in her reading.

In the evening she went back to the pension and sank into the bathtub. “Dear God,” she called out loud, “in a little while the iron gates will open, and I’ll return to my mother and father at Number Five Cedar Street.”

At night she dreamed that the train was delayed and that she had arrived late in Blumenthal. Elsa met her at the door and called out, Here comes the thief! She immediately began to search Blanca’s clothing. Blanca’s body was paralyzed, but she could still feel Elsa’s bony fingers in her pockets. Policemen were waiting in the next room and put handcuffs on her. Don’t take Otto away from me! she shouted. Then she woke up.

The next day Blanca returned on the first train, and Otto was happy.

“I knew you’d come,” he said.

“And how are you, my dear?”

“I arranged the soldiers in rows, and now they’re guarding the king.”

“You arranged them very nicely.”

“Mama, play dominoes with me.”

“Right away,” she said and knelt down.

They played on the floor, and Kirtzl didn’t interfere. Later Otto counted to twenty, added and subtracted, and amused himself with his fingers. Blanca pretended to make mistakes, and Otto corrected her.

Later she went back to the train station and took off with no destination in mind. The harvested summer fields sped by and lulled her into a deep sleep. Blanca slept without interruption, not waking until the last stop. Then she hurried away to rent a room in an inn. The small inns, quiet and clean, made her think of an inner life that belonged solely to herself, one that no stranger had a part in. Blanca sat in cafés for hours and drank cup after cup of coffee. Sometimes she also had a drink of brandy, but never very much. For a moment she saw herself in Vienna, already in the third year in the mathematics department. After lunch she would sit in a café and read from the works of Adalbert Stifter. Her mother and father wanted to surprise her and came to visit. They were proud of her achievements. In a little while she would publish an article of her own in the well-known magazine Papyrus . Her father kept saying, I knew. I always knew .

Thus she sat and daydreamed.

On Saturday Blanca returned home and told Adolf that she had found work in a small old age home near Himmelburg. Adolf, who had drunk a great deal but wasn’t intoxicated, immediately asked, “How much are they paying you?” Blanca had prepared a few banknotes. She put them on the table and said, “More than in Blumenthal.” Adolf beamed, as though he’d been offered tasty food.

Adolf sat in his seat and Blanca served him dinner. But then, in the middle of the meal, his expression changed. He told her that two Jews had recently bought the dairy and that they wanted to lengthen the workday. The workers had declared a strike, and they were planning to attack the owners. Adolf despised Jews in general, but this time he was able to articulate his animosity.

“We’ll eliminate them,” he said, his mind finally at rest.

After the meal Adolf went to join his friends at the tavern. Blanca sat with Otto and told him that soon they’d be taking a long trip. Otto asked for details, and Blanca soared off in her imagination. Then they played dominoes, and Otto won twice. For a long time he played by himself, too, had imaginary adventures, and murmured to himself. Finally he fell asleep on the floor.

Late that night Adolf returned drunk and angry and immediately started reviling the Jews, who were destroying the Austrian economy and filling their pockets with money. Blanca made an awkward movement and knocked over a china pot. That drove Adolf out of his senses. He slapped her face and called her a careless woman who broke things without consideration. Blanca, who had learned not to react, responded this time.

“What are you talking about?” she said.

Adolf grabbed her arm and shook her, shouting, “Who said, ‘What are you talking about?’ Who dared to say, ‘What are you talking about?’ ”

Blanca, in great pain and anger, shouted back, “Murderer! Leave me alone.” Then Adolf started kicking her, and his fury didn’t subside until he’d knocked her down.

That night Blanca didn’t sleep. The blows that Adolf had dealt her hurt and burned, but, to her surprise, she didn’t feel weakness. She felt that if she had to leave, she would, and she would even be able to carry a burden on her back. She went to see Otto, who was sleeping soundly. Then she went over to the window. The darkness was dense, and no light was visible anywhere. She thought of going outdoors and sitting on the front steps, but the thought vanished, and she did nothing.