Too Many Men (75 page)

Ruth felt sick. A wave of biliousness rose up in her throat. She wished Höss would go back to his conversation about himself and his wife fleeing the Allies.

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“As you wish,” Höss said. “In Wismar, my wife and I heard, by chance, in a farmhouse, that the Führer was dead. When we heard this news,” Höss said, “my wife and I knew exactly what we must do. We must go. With the Führer gone, our world would be gone, too. It didn’t seem possible to go on living. We knew we would be hounded and persecuted wherever we went.

“I had a supply of poison for myself and my wife,” Höss said. “We prepared to take the poison. But then, we decided for the sake of the children, we should try to stay alive.”

“Good parents to the end,” Ruth said.

“It was a big mistake,” Höss said. “One which I regret to this day. We all would have been spared a large amount of suffering and grief and distress. The pain and misery my wife and the children had to endure could have been avoided.

“The Reichsführer was, together with other members of the government, in hiding, in Flensburg. I reported there. It was a disheartening meeting. All talk of continuing to fight for our ideals was gone. It was truly now every man for himself.

“ ‘Well, gentlemen, this is the end,’ the Reichsführer said to us,” Höss said. “And then he gave us our final directive. ‘Hide in the army,’ he said.

Hide in the army. Can you believe that? Hide like a coward. To this day I am still filled with disgust at the Reichsführer’s directive.”

“I sent my son back to his mother, together with my driver and my car,”

he said.

“A family man to the very end,” Ruth said.

“I am not quite at the end,” Höss said. “By sheer chance I heard on the radio that Himmler had been arrested and had taken his own life, with poison. I had my vial of poison on me, also. I made the decision not to take the poison. I would wait and see what eventuated. The departmental staff were given false papers. The papers which would enable them to disappear into the navy.

“I was fortunate in that I had a certain knowledge about naval life, and I was able to blend in well. But my profession was stated as farmer, I was soon released,” Höss said. “I worked on a farm near Flensburg for eight months. It was a peaceful time. My wife’s brother worked in Flensburg. He helped me to stay in touch with my wife.”

“You were a close family, obviously,” Ruth said.

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“Very close,” Höss said. “It was through my brother-in-law that I heard that the British Field Security Police were searching for me. I learned that they were keeping my family under surveillance. I knew I could not remain free for much longer.”

“And you were right,” Ruth said. “You were arrested on March 11, 1946.”

“My vial of poison had broken two days earlier,” Höss said.

“That was very bad timing,” Ruth said.

“It was very bad luck,” Höss said. He sounded morose.

“You believe in luck?” Ruth said.

“Of course,” said Höss, in a flat voice.

“So luck is one of the genuinely random elements?” Ruth said.

“As is bad luck,” said Höss. “It was my bad luck to be captured.”

“Of course,” Ruth said.

“It was necessary for me to be destroyed,” he said. “The world demanded it. Without knowing it, I was a cog in the wheel of a large piece of extermination machinery. When the machinery was smashed to pieces and all its parts disassembled, it was necessary for me, too, to be destroyed.”

“How can you say that with a straight face?” Ruth said.

“Let the public continue to regard me as a cruel, pitiless, heartless per-secutor,” Höss said. “Let them see me as a mass murderer. An inhuman, barbarous, bestial being. They could never understand that I, too, had a heart, and I was not evil.

“I can see, now that I have had much time to reflect upon the facts,”

Höss said, “that the leaders of the Third Reich, because of a policy of force, must bear the guilt of causing this vast war and all the consequences thereof.”

He cleared his throat. “I see, also, now, from a perspective of time,” he said, “that the extermination of Jews was fundamentally wrong.”

“Really?” said Ruth, sitting up.

“Of course,” said Höss. “Precisely because of these mass exterminations, Germany drew upon herself the ire and anger of the whole world.”

Ruth slumped back into her seat. “There was a hatred of Germany for many years,” Höss said. “It took quite a few years for the hostility toward Germany to evaporate.”

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“Do you think it has completely disappeared?” Ruth said.

“Of course,” Höss said. “Don’t you?”

“Yes,” she said.

“You are approaching your death again, aren’t you?” she said to Höss suddenly. He didn’t reply. “You have to live through it all again, don’t you?” Ruth said. “They’re trying to make you get it right, aren’t they?” she said.

“Who?” Höss said.

“I don’t know,” she said. “But I’m right, aren’t I? They’re going to make you relive every unpleasant moment, every unsavory aspect of your existence, every ill, until you get it right?”

“Only those moments I myself find difficult to endure,” Höss said quietly.

She was right, she thought. Höss was about to die again. He had said he was going on a journey. A journey with a higher end in mind. Höss had thought she had known where he was heading. “Heading” was a tasteless choice of a word to use in the case of someone who was about to be hanged, Ruth thought to herself.

Ruth heard Höss clearing his throat. She knew he was preparing himself. She knew that Höss knew that his death was close. She heard another sound. A quiet sound. It was the sound of a noose being slipped around Höss’s neck. Höss swallowed a few times. She could feel his nervousness.

She could feel the tension in the air.

“Mein Gott,”
Höss cried.

Ruth looked in the direction of the cry. “Please do not watch,” Höss said.

“I can’t see,” Ruth said.

“Yes, you can,” Höss said. “If you look, you will be a witness to this. I would very much prefer it if I could be on my own.”

“It’s out of my control,” Ruth said.

“Go away,” Höss pleaded.

“I don’t know how to,” she said. It was true, she thought. She would have left if she could. Or would she? Was she staying voluntarily? She didn’t know.

Some bubbles of air escaped from somewhere. Ruth realized with horror that Höss was losing control of his bowels. She felt sick. She was sure

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she could smell the shit. She could hear Höss panting. She could hear his shame. She could hear him trying to retain control. Trying to tighten his grip on his sphincter. He groaned as he failed. The groan was followed by the sound of flooding. Ruth gripped the sides of her seat. Höss seemed to have let go.
“Mein Gott,”
Höss cried out again.

He was calling to God, Ruth thought. He wasn’t calling out to his wife.

Ruth wondered if Höss was going to have to start at the very beginning again. To live through his adolescence and his early adulthood. And how many times did you have to die before you were finally dead? Ruth thought. Before you ceased to exist? Did that time ever arrive?

“I thought you could help me to avoid this,” Höss said in a strained voice.

“Me?” she said.

“Yes,” he said. “I thought you would be my salvation.”

“Me, your salvation?” Ruth said. She was stunned. She could still smell Höss. The smell was terrible. She put her hand over her nose.

Ruth’s body suddenly felt very hot. She could feel Höss tense himself.

She could feel that he was holding his breath. Something was moving. She knew what it was. The noose was tightening. There was a brisk sound. A snap. Ruth had thought that it would be a louder sound. The sound of a man being hanged. She could feel him twitching. A gurgling noise came from Höss.

Ruth dug her heel into the floor of the plane. Höss spluttered. She dug her heel in again. His body began to twitch again. Small involuntary jerks.

There were some more trickles and several gulping sounds. Ruth kept her heel on the ground. She could feel she was covered in sweat. She heard a thud. A loud thud. She knew that Höss was gone.

She picked up her bag and got out her lipstick. She felt much much better. Almost refreshed. Clearheaded. She lifted her heel up. It had remained pressed into the floor. She crossed her legs. She knew Höss was gone. She smiled. She didn’t think she would be hearing from him again. She hoped she was right.

Chapter Seventeen

R
uth and Edek had been standing in the baggage collection area for twenty minutes. There was no luggage in sight. The carousel hadn’t even begun to move. The other passengers were just standing there. Mute. Resigned. There was no movement among the people waiting for luggage. No agitation. In America, Ruth thought, there would have been consternation, irritation, complaints, and accusations. Here in Lódz, the passengers stood and waited. In silence.

“What is happening?” Edek said.

“Nothing is happening,” Ruth said. “The baggage isn’t arriving,” Ruth said.

“What is wrong with them?” Edek said. “Everything does take two times as long as necessary.” He asked a couple of passengers, in Polish, if they knew why the luggage was delayed. Both men shrugged their shoulders.

“I hope the luggage isn’t lost,” Ruth said. Edek asked another passenger if it was common for luggage to be lost. “Not common, but not unheard of,” the man said.

“Great,” said Ruth. “I’ll have to live in these clothes and use the shit shampoo at the hotel.”

“It is not necessary to speak like this, Ruthie,” Edek said. Ruth wondered why he was so bothered by the word “shit,” or any other of the mild

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obscenities she occasionally used. They must sound more profound to him than they did to native English speakers.

“If the luggage is lost we will buy new everything,” Edek said. “We can afford it.”

“I’m not that bothered,” Ruth said. It was true, she thought. She would be home soon. She could replace everything. She could buy new face creams, new cleansers, a new running outfit. She could buy another pedometer, another cassette recorder, another headset with a microphone attachment. There was no need to panic. Everything could be replaced.

The lost luggage really didn’t bother her. She didn’t care, she thought, if the airline employees or someone else had stolen the luggage. Then, she thought of the coat. Israel Rothwax’s coat was in her suitcase.

“The coat,” she said to Edek.

“You will buy another coat,” Edek said.

“No, it’s your father’s coat,” Ruth said. Edek was quiet for a minute.

“This coat, to tell you the truth, was going to look a bit funny on you, Ruthie,” he said.

“I want the coat,” she said. “I’m not going to lose the coat.”

“The luggage will come,” Edek said.

They stood and waited. It was lucky she had kept the photographs in her bag, Ruth thought. She opened her bag. The photographs were still there. After ten minutes Edek turned to Ruth. “You stay here and watch for the suitcases. I will be back in a couple of minutes.”

“Where are you going?” Ruth said. But he was already off. “I’ll be back,” he called out to Ruth as he ran toward the exit.

I’ll be back, Ruth thought. Did Edek think he was Arnold Schwarzenegger in
The Terminator
? Edek had used exactly the same intonation as Arnold, and an almost identical accent. An intonation of urgency.

And remedy. What was Edek up to? Ruth wondered. What was he going to do? Rush out onto the tarmac? Talk to the ground staff? Ruth felt agitated.

Why did Edek always have to do something unexpected? Why couldn’t he have waited quietly? Like the Poles. Not one of the assembled passengers had moved. No one was looking at their watch, or speaking into mobile phones. They were all immobile.

There was the sound of machinery starting up. And a loud series of shudders. The carousel began moving. The crowd remained static. Ruth T O O M A N Y M E N

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moved closer to the carousel. A few pieces of luggage came out. After several circuits, Ruth’s suitcase emerged. It was followed by Edek’s. Ruth pulled both cases off the carousel. The bright yellow masking tape was still wound around Edek’s case. But he had added some more tape. Now, bright yellow tape was taped along the length of the case as well as across the middle. Ruth had meant to ask Edek in the taxi, in Kraków, when he had added the extra tape. But Zofia’s kisses had sidetracked her.

Ruth could still hear the sound of those kisses Zofia had begun blowing as they were getting into the car. Mwah, mwah, mwah. She remembered Edek smiling at the kisses. Ruth looked at Edek’s suitcase. What was the purpose of the second round of bright yellow masking tape? The suitcase was already easily identifiable with the initial strips. Who knew what was behind Edek’s thinking? And where was Edek?

She looked around the airport. Was he calling Garth? she thought. No, why would he call Garth from the airport? He could call Garth from his room at the hotel. She had no idea what Edek could be doing. His movements and thoughts were impossible to track or predict. She looked at her own suitcase. It was so subdued. All black, with black leather, neatly filled-in luggage labels. She didn’t think she could travel with wild yellow bands of plastic tape wound around her case. Although she wasn’t sure why she had to be so pristine and prissy.

“Ruthie,” she heard. She looked up. It was Edek. He was running across the baggage collection area toward her. She wished he didn’t have to run everywhere. As far as she could see, most of the emergencies in Edek’s life were over with. He didn’t have to run. It was dangerous to run at his age. He could easily slip.

“I did get a driver to take us to the hotel,” Edek said, puffing a bit. Ruth was relieved. Edek had only been getting a taxi.

“That’s good,” she said. “Is it a Mercedes?”