'He's an excellent cook,' said the senior prisoner. 'Trained in the castle of a baron. Only the best for the guards.'
'Ah,' said the guard, greed overcoming suspicion. 'Hurry UP, then.'
the four of them ran to the truck, and the convoy started.
The journey was again slow and arduous, but at least he was not walking this time, nor, being summer, was it unbearably cold. Wladek worked hard on preparing the food and, as he bad no desire to be noticed, hardly spoke to anyone for the entire journey other than Stanislaw, the chief cook.
When they eventually reached Irkutsk, the drive had taken nearly sixteen days. The train waiting to go to Moscow was already standing in the station. It had been there for several hours, but was unable to continue its journey until the train bringing the new prisoners had arrived.
Wladek sat on the side of the platform with the others from the field kitchen, three of them with no interest or purpose in anything around them~ dulled by the experience, but one of them intent on every move, studying the train on the other side of the platform carefully. There were several open entrances and Wladek quickly selected the one he would use when his moment came.
'Are you going to try an escape?' asked Stanislaw suddenly.
VVladek began to sweat but did not answer.
Stanislaw stared at him. 'You are?'
Still Wladek said nothing.
The old cook stared at the thirteen - year - old boy. He nodded his head up and down in agreement. If he had had a tail, it would have wagged.
'Good luck. I'll make sure they don't realise you're missing for at least two days.'
Stanislaw touched his arm and Wadek caught sight of the prisoners' train in the distance, slowly inching its way towards them. He tensed in anticipation, his heart pounding, his eyes following the movement of every soldier. He waited for the incoming train to come to a halt and watched the tired prisoners pile out on to the platform, hundreds of them, anonymous men with only a past. When the station was a chaos of people and the guards were fully occupied, Wladek ran under the carriage and jum ed on to the other train. No p one showed any interest as he went into a lavatory at the end of the carriage. He locked himself in and waited and prayed, every moment expecting someone to knock on the door. It seemed a life tinie to Wladek before the train began to move out of the station. It was, in fact, seventeen minutes.
'At last, at last,' he said out loud. He looked through the little window and watched the station growing smaller and smaller in the distance, a mass of new prisoners being hitched up to the chains, ready for the journey to camp 201, the guards laughing, as they locked them in. How many would reach the camp alive? How many would be fed to the wolves? How long before they missed him? Wladek sat in the lavatory for several more minutes, terrified to move, not sure what he ought to do next. Suddenly there was a banging on the door.
Wladek thought quickly - the guard, the ticket collector, a soldier - a succession of images flashed through his mind, each one more frightening than the last. He needed to use the lavatory for the first time. The banging persisted.
'Come on, come on,' said a man in coarse Russian.
Wladek had little choice. If it was a soldier, there was no way out, a dwarf could not have squeezed through the little window. If it wasn't a soldier, he would only draw attention to himself by staying there. He took off his prison clothes, made them into as small a bundle as possible, and threw them out of the window. Then he removed a soft hat from the pocket of his suit to cover his shaved head, and opened the door. An agitated man rushed in, pulling down his trousers even before Wladek had left.
Once in the corridor, Wladek felt isolated and terrifyingly conspicuous in his out - of - date suit, an apple placed on a pile of oranges. He immediately went in search of another lavatory. When he found one that was unoccupied, he locked himself in and quickly undid the stitches in his suitj extracting one of the four fifty - ruble notes. He replaced the other three and returned to the corridor. He looked for the most crowded carriage he could find and hid himself in a corner. Some men were playing pitch - and - toss in the middle of the carriage for a few rubles to while away the time. Wladek had always beaten Leon when they had played in the castle, and he would have liked to have joined the contestants, but he feared winning and drawing attention to himself. The game went on for a long time and Wladek began to remember the stratagems. The temptation to risk li~is two hundred rubles was almost irresistible.
One of the gamblers, who had parted with a considerable amount of his money, retired in disgust and sat down by Wladek, swearing.
'The luck. wasn't with you,' said Wladek, wanting to hear the sound of his own voice.