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.