Tell Me Who I Am by Julia Navarro


  Amelia’s plan was to go to Biarritz and from there make her way down to the Spanish border, which she thought she would cross not at the official customs post but via the paths which Aitor had shown her so many years ago. She still remembered the time she had spent convalescing on her nurse Amaya’s family farm, and the friendship that had grown up between her and Amaya’s children Edurne and Aitor. Amelia wondered whether Aitor had come back from Mexico, and if so, whether he would be living in exile in the French Basque country. If that were the case, then surely Aitor would help them.

  Albert drove to Biarritz without stopping, and when they arrived Amelia took them to her grandmother Margot’s house. The old woman had died some time before, but Amelia trusted that Yvonne, her nurse, would have kept the keys or else would still be living in the house.

  When they got close to the house, on a slope overlooking the sea, Amelia noticed that the shutters were open.

  She asked Albert and Rahel to wait for her in the car, as she was not sure what she would find.

  Yvonne opened the door and at first seemed not to recognize Amelia, but then she did so, and fell into her arms, crying.

  “Mademoiselle Amelia, how marvelous to see you! Goodness, what a surprise!”

  She invited her in and then told Amelia through tears what she already knew, that grandmother Margot had died.

  “Madame did not suffer, but she was very anxious the last few days, it was as if she knew that she would die and she was sad that she could not say goodbye to her children or her grandchildren, especially to you and Mademoiselle Laura, who were her favorites.”

  Yvonne explained that grandmother Margot had given her permission to stay in the house, sure that her children, when they came to Biarritz, would carry on using it.

  “Madame made her will a few months before she died; here is an envelope she gave me, it is still sealed, but Madame told me that it contains the name of the notary whom Don Juan and Don Armando should contact. Madame was very well prepared, and very worried about the war in Spain; she gave me some money so that I should lack for nothing in my old age and... well, here I am, waiting for one of the Garayoas to appear.”

  Amelia explained that she was on her way to Spain with some friends, and that it would be good if they could rest there and have some hot food.

  It was also a relief for Albert and Rahel to find that this house was a safe haven. Yvonne didn’t ask for any explanations, and didn’t need any to know that this was something important and that Amelia was in a tight spot, and when Rahel went to bed that night and Albert collapsed out of pure exhaustion, Yvonne came to speak with Amelia.

  “Mademoiselle, I think that you have problems, and if I can help you... Madame Margot trusted me and you know how much she loved your family, I met you just after you’d been born, the same as with Mademoiselle Antonietta. I came to this house because Madame Margot’s mother, Madame Amélie brought me here, and you are named after her...”

  “I know, Yvonne, I know... Of course I can trust you! Look, we are going to enter Spain, but not via the customs post; we’re going to use the mountain passes. Do you remember Aitor, Amaya’s son? He showed me secret paths that are normally only used by goats.”

  “Lots of Spaniards have come here running away from Franco, oh, if you could only see them, the poor things! I don’t know about Aitor, but I do know of a Spanish refugee who came here and who was with the PNV. A good man, who worked a lot to feed his family. I think he had a business before the war broke out, but he lost everything when he went into exile. He was lucky enough to be married to a woman from here, and now he works in a hotel. If you would like... I don’t know... Maybe he knows something about Aitor...”

  “Thank you so much! Aitor could be a great help for us, I saw him a few months ago in Mexico and he was planning to return and help the refugees, I do so hope that he has!”

  “I will go out early tomorrow to see if I can find this man, he’ll be working at the reception of the hotel at seven.”

  Yvonne did as she had promised and told Amelia that the man from the PNV would come to see them that afternoon, as soon as he had finished his day’s work. Albert decided to let Amelia plan this part of their mission, even though he had his doubts; he thought it was unwise to trust a stranger.

  At half past six that evening, Patxi Olarra came to the house. Albert thought that he must be about fifty years old. He looked hale and hearty, but his hair was completely white.

  Amelia asked him if he knew Aitor Garmendia, and told him a little bit about Aitor, where his family farm was and that the last time she had seen him was in Mexico, as secretary to one of the leaders of the PNV in exile.

  Olarra listened in silence and took his time before replying.

  “What do you want?” he asked straight out.

  “Want? We don’t want anything, I am a childhood friend of Aitor’s...”

  “Yes, but what do you want from him?” Olarra insisted.

  “I’ve said that I would like to know if he’s around here, and if he is, then I should like to see him. I suppose that the PNV exiles stay in touch, know about each other...”

  “I will see what I can do for you.”

  Patxi Olarra got up and nodded his head and left the house without saying another word.

  “What a strange man!” Albert said.

  “Basques are men of few words, if they have to do something, they do it and that’s that,” Amelia replied.

  “I don’t know if he’s an ally or if he’s going to betray us,” Albert said, worriedly.

  “He doesn’t know anything about us, he hasn’t seen Rahel.”

  “Yes, but... I don’t know... I’m worried.”

  “He’s a good man, I promise you,” Yvonne said.

  They spent two days without hearing anything from Olarra, and Amelia decided not to wait any longer and instead to try to cross into Spain by themselves.

  “But are you sure you remember the tracks that Aitor showed you?” Albert asked.

  “Of course,” Amelia replied with more certainty than she felt.

  For her part, Rahel had put so much trust in Amelia that even though she was older she relied on Amelia like a child.

  Amelia had everything organized for the next day, so she suggested that they go to bed early and rest.

  “The mountain paths are not easy, so it’s best if we rest now.”

  They had not yet gone to sleep when someone rang the doorbell. They tensed up, watchful. Yvonne sent Rahel upstairs and went down to open the door.

  Outside someone asked for Amelia and she recognized the voice and cried out in happiness.

  “Aitor! You’ve come!”

  “Don’t think it’s that easy to get from one side to the other,” Aitor said as he hugged his friend.

  They spoke for a while. Aitor explained that his boss had decided to send him back to be a go-between between those who were trying to escape and those who had organized themselves in exile.

  “We try to be discreet so as not to get the French authorities into trouble, because even though France is at war with Germany it hasn’t yet broken with Spain, so we have to be careful. You can’t imagine the hundreds of thousands of refugees that there are in the camps, nor the conditions they are living in... We are trying to help some of our own and to get people across the border, but it is difficult.”

  “We’re trying to get into Spain via one of those mountain passes you told me about, we need to save someone...”

  Amelia explained about Rahel and about how they were trying to get her to Lisbon.

  “It won’t be easy, especially not at this time of the year, it’s almost winter and it’s snowing. And there are soldiers and Franco’s police everywhere.”

  “But you use the mountain passes; or if not, how do you get people out of Spain?”

  Aitor said nothing. He didn’t want to disappoint Amelia, but he also didn’t want to put his organization in danger by trying to do something so complicated as bringing
a Jew across Spanish territory all the way to Portugal. If they were stopped and tortured they would say where and how and with whom they had crossed the border and everything would be laid bare.

  “I don’t have the authority to make this decision, I need to talk to my superiors,” Aitor said.

  “You don’t need to, if you don’t want to help me, don’t do it. We will be going tomorrow, and if you don’t come then we’ll try ourselves.”

  “Please, Amelia, don’t do anything crazy! You’ll probably get lost in the mountains, and that’s all the more likely at this time of year. It’s not a game, it’s not a walk in the hills.”

  “We cannot stay here, Rahel is in greater danger with every day that passes. Her only chance is to get to Portugal.”

  “She could get a French residence permit... They are at war with Germany.”

  “Are you laughing at me? Do I need to remind you where the Spanish refugees have ended up? Do you want me to tell you about their Jewish policy? Get out, Aitor, I don’t want to put you in a difficult situation, you’re fighting your own war and Rahel is not a part of it, you don’t need to help us.”

  “If anything goes wrong you’re risking your lives,” Aitor warned.

  “I know, we all know, but we don’t have any other option.”

  Aitor left in a bad mood. He hadn’t been able to reason with Amelia, to convince her that the shepherd tracks in the mountains were dangerous.

  Nor could Albert convince Amelia to try to find another solution.

  “I am going tomorrow with Rahel, and I promise you that I will get to the other side,” Amelia replied angrily to Albert’s reasoning.

  At three o’clock in the morning, when Albert, Amelia, and Rahel were saying goodbye to Yvonne, they heard some soft knocks at the door. The old maid went to open up and was surprised to see Aitor.

  “You’re as stubborn as a mule, so I’ve got no other option than to help you, or else you’ll end up showing the police where the paths across the mountains are,” he said.

  Amelia hugged him in gratitude.

  “Thank you! Thank you so much!”

  “Are you well prepared? You need warm clothing or you’ll die of cold.”

  “I think we’ve got everything we need,” Albert said.

  The first night they slept in the open air, and after that in shepherd’s huts. Aitor led the way, his steps firm in spite of the darkness, and Albert brought up the rear. Amelia and Rahel walked in silence, without complaining about the hard ground or the fear provoked by the sounds they heard at night.

  “There’s not very far to go before we enter Spain, and it’s better to do it while it’s still dark,” Aitor told them one dawn.

  “How much further is there to go?” Albert asked.

  “No more than fifteen kilometers. Then we will go to my grandparents’ farm. They’re waiting for us there.”

  Amelia spied Amaya in the doorway of the farmhouse and ran to her crying. She hugged her nurse and the woman covered her with kisses.

  “But dear Amelia, how beautiful you are! How much you have changed! Good Lord, I thought I would never see you again!”

  They went into the farmhouse, which held such memories for Amelia, and she was shocked to find out that Aitor’s grandfather had died and that his grandmother lay sick in bed.

  “She doesn’t even talk anymore,” Amaya said, pointing sadly to the old woman, who did not seem to recognize them.

  Amaya made them some food, and cackled to see Albert’s expression as he drank his bowl of milk.

  “You don’t like it? I suppose you’ve never had real milk before, fresh from the cow.”

  “What have you heard about my family?”

  “Edurne writes from time to time, but she’s very scared, you know that the police open letters and suspect everyone. Your sister Antonietta is getting better, Lola’s son is still in your uncle and aunt’s house because his grandmother is still in the hospital. Don Armando is working, and your cousin Laura is happy in her school. My Edurne looks after them well, don’t you worry.”

  “I suppose she’s told you nothing about my son Javier or Santiago...”

  “They see your son at a distance and he’s a beautiful boy who lacks for nothing. Águeda looks after him and keeps him wonderfully clean. Aren’t you going to try to find a telephone and ring them?”

  “Of course she isn’t!” Aitor interrupted. “It’s better to be discreet and the less notice we attract the better; the police monitor all calls.”

  “Yes, you’re right,” Amelia admitted.

  “Now I will tell you how to get to Portugal. I have a friend who’s in the scrap-metal business, and he goes all over the place with his little truck. He’ll take you to Portugal, but you’ll have to pay him. It’s a long trip and they might stop you, so it won’t be cheap, do you have any money?”

  Albert said that he would pay whatever was needed, and Aitor looked at him, clearly thinking that this was no ordinary man. He wondered if Amelia might be in love with him and came to the conclusion that no, she probably wasn’t, even though they made a good couple.

  They didn’t have to wait more than half an hour before Jose María Eguía, the scrap-metal merchant, came to the farmhouse. Aitor went out to see him as soon as he heard the truck’s engine.

  Eguía asked them to pay him in advance.

  “If I get into trouble,” he said, “then at least I’ll have some pesetas, which I’ll need. I’ve got a wife, three kids, and my mother-in-law living with us, and not a lot to throw in the pot. Also, if you do a job you’ve got to get paid for it, right?”

  They didn’t haggle at all, and said goodbye to Aitor and Amaya.

  “Thank you, I’ll never forget what you’ve done for me,” Amelia said.

  “Take care. I know your passport is in order, and Albert’s too, but I’m not so sure about the Jewish kid... I don’t know what they’d do to her if the police stopped her.”

  “We’ll be careful, don’t worry.”

  “You can trust Eguía. He’s a good man, even if he is a bit rough. His grandparents have a farm near here, we used to play together when we were kids.”

  “Is he in the PNV?” Amelia asked.

  “No, he’s not interested in politics.”

  They barely fit in the truck. Albert sat next to Eguía and Amelia and Rahel got into the back, on top of a pile of scrap metal, but neither of the women complained.

  “Do you think we’ll make it to Portugal?” Rahel asked Amelia shyly.

  “Of course we will. It’s a long trip and it’ll seem even longer on these roads, but we’ll get there and Albert will help you get to the United States.”

  Rahel looked at her, grateful for these words of encouragement. It was not an easy journey and it soon became clear that the truck was in worse shape than it had at first appeared. They got a puncture in Santander and Eguía said, after taking the tire off, that it was no longer any use and that they would have to buy a new one.

  “But don’t you have a spare tire?” Albert asked, slightly alarmed.

  “Bah! Where am I going to get a spare tire from? We don’t have anything here.”

  In the end they found an old garage that sold them a used tire. Albert, naturally, paid for it.

  “If I pay then the money doesn’t add up,” Eguía explained.

  They bought bread and whatever they could find, and they ate and slept in the truck. Albert offered to drive, and although Eguía resisted at first he ended up accepting so that he could rest.

  “What a trek! If I’d have known I’d have asked for more money,” the scrap-metal dealer complained.

  Later on, Albert James wrote some articles about postwar Spain in which he spoke of a country that lacked everything, and where fear had sealed people’s throats.

  He said that whenever they stopped to have a coffee in a bar, or to fill up with gas, or when they went into a little shop in a dead-end town to buy bread, they always met with a wall of silence in the face
of any attempt to find out people’s opinions about the political situation.

  He was also surprised by the extremely patriotic speeches given by the new bosses, but above all, he was shocked by the hunger he saw. In one of his articles he wrote that the Spaniards of that time had hunger drawn on their faces.

  No sooner had they reached Asturias than the truck stopped on a mountain pass. They had to get out and push the truck to the side of the road, and then Eguía tried to fix it.

  “Oh, this is terrible!” he said when he took a look at the engine.

  “But can you fix it?” Amelia asked.

  “I don’t know, maybe yes, maybe no.”

  They were lucky. A few army trucks were passing by and Eguía flagged them down.

  The captain who was in charge of the convoy turned out to be friendly.

  “I don’t know much about this myself, but the sergeant is a whiz with engines and he’ll sort things out straight away.”

  Amelia prayed that he wouldn’t ask them for their papers. She was especially scared that they would ask Rahel questions, because she only spoke German, or even that they would speak to Albert, who spoke Spanish, but not very fluently. At first the captain was not particularly interested in the two women, but Albert did intrigue him.

  “Where are you from, then?” he asked.

  “I’m from the United States.”

  “Goodness! You wouldn’t be one of those who came across to fight with the International Brigades?” he said, laughing.

  “No, of course not.”

  “You can see it in your face, you can see that you’re a rich fellow, one of those Americans with dollars to spare.”

  “There’s never money to spare,” Albert said, just to say something.

  “And what about the girls?”

  “My wife and her sister.”

  “You’re a brave man to put up with the wife and the sister-in-law at the same time.”

  “They’re good people,” Albert said, who didn’t understand all the captain’s jokes.

 
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