Leyla’s Tale (Part Six)

     I had been considering a move to the United States for some time.  After World War II many Hidden Ones moved there.  The devastation of the war in Europe made it easier to fabricate identities with no paperwork.  Just about every large concentration of European immigrants in the U.S. had a few Hidden Ones in it.

     My recent encounter with Hans Glickenhoff convinced me of the need to abandon my current identity and move on.  I had a score to settle with him but Hans held all the high cards at the moment.  I would have to wait until I had the advantage to confront him.  So it seemed the right time to make the move to the New World.  

     My friend Katya had given me an open invitation to visit her if I ever got the United States.  She had moved to the U.S. in 1948 and in her current identity she had become a model living in Manhattan. 

     She was living a much higher profile life than one of us usually did.  Most Hidden Ones were short with dark hair and eyes like me.  Katya was tall and blonde with pale blue eyes.  She had always been free spirited and extroverted even when we were children in Eastern Europe.  She was constantly getting in trouble with her parents for sneaking out to see boys.  Katya knew the importance of keeping a low profile among humans but she rejected the quiet lifestyle most of us lived.  But I loved her like a sister and was looking forward to seeing her again.  I also wanted to warn her since if the Hunters knew so much about me they had to know about her.

     I arrived at Idlewild Airport on a chilly Sunday in October.  Katya met me after I cleared customs.  We hugged and exchanged cheek kisses.  She wore a light blue sheath dress that matched her eyes combined with gold pumps and purse.  I felt like a frumpy Hausfrau next to her casual elegance. 

     “Aren’t you cold?” I asked.

     “I’ve done too many winter fashion shoots to mind,” she laughed.  Katya spoke English with what I assumed was an American accent.  I wondered how long it would take me to develop mine.  “You’re going to love New York.  I’ve got so much to show and tell you.”

     “I’ve got a lot to talk to you about, too.”

     She caught the serious tone in my voice.  “I haven’t seen you in almost fifteen years.  I think those things can wait a little longer.  Can’t we just be two carefree girls for a while?”

     “Sure, Katya.  I’d like that.”  Tracking down Hunters had consumed my life since the war.  I had neglected my friends, especially Katya, my oldest and closest friend.  She wasn’t asking for much.  How could I deny her?

     We took a cab to her brownstone apartment building in midtown Manhattan.  Her place was larger than I expected, easily twice the size of my old apartment in Hamburg.  It was furnished and decorated in a colorfully eclectic style.  In a prominent spot on the living room wall hung a portrait of Katya in a black gown. 

     “Some people say I look like Grace Kelly in that painting.” 

     “Grace who?”

     “Grace Kelly.  She was a movie actress a few years ago.  She married Prince Rainier of Monaco and now she’s Princess Grace.  You need to learn about popular culture if you want to blend in here.”

     I shrugged and carried my bags into the spare bedroom.   Katya said she often let friends stay with her if they fell on hard times.  She didn’t elaborate and I didn’t press her on the point.  I joined her in the kitchen where she was breading cutlets for schnitzel.  An open wine bottle and glasses were on the counter.  “Turn on the record player and pour us some wine.”

     I went to the living room.  There was already a record on the turntable so I found the power stitch and put the needle at the start of the album.  The sounds of jazz music filled the apartment.  Back in the kitchen I poured the wine and handed Katya a glass.  She fried the schnitzel and got a large bowl of potato salad out of the refrigerator.  “Tonight we’re having a meal just like Momma used to make.  I used her recipes but it can never be as good.”

     We reminisced about our childhood in Europe as we ate.  Afterwards we settled on a couch in front of her television set.  It was the first color television I had seen.  I was fascinated by Walt Disney’s Wonderful World of Color.  Katya and I ended up talking for hours about our days in Europe together.  It was just after midnight when I finally had to call it a night.  Even our kind is affected by jet lag.

     I rose late the next morning.  After a quick breakfast of coffee and pastry Katya took me sightseeing and shopping.  I had been in large cities before but New York was like nothing I had ever seen.  There was an upbeat energy to the people that was very different from what I was used to.  We visited the Empire State Building where I marveled at the spectacular view from the observation deck.  After pastrami sandwiches at a crowded deli Katya took me to Saks on Fifth Avenue.  She selected several dresses, shoes and accessories for me.  I deferred to her judgment on appropriate American fashion.  The sales people knew Katya and addressed her as “Miss Bathory” so she must have been a frequent customer.  I tried to pay but she insisted on buying everything for me. 

     Money was not a problem.  We had each inherited assets from our parents (Katya’s were taken by Hunters in 1940).  Years of compound interest had increased our bank accounts considerably. 

     We took a taxi back to the apartment to drop off the purchases then it was off to a theater to see an Elvis Presley movie as my first lesson in American culture.  I expected Katya to take me out for a night on the town but she surprised me by wanting to go home after the movie.  “President Kennedy is speaking on television tonight.  It has to be something important.”

     So for the second night in a row we settled in front of the television.  President Kennedy spoke about Soviet offensive missile sites in Cuba and a military quarantine of Cuba.  He stated that a nuclear missile launch from Cuba would be considered an attack on the United States by the Soviet Union and be followed by a retaliatory strike on them. 

     I was very afraid.  I was no stranger to war.  I had lived through two major wars and several minor ones in Europe.  But this was different.  No one knew what the outcome of a nuclear exchange between the United States and the Soviet Union would be.  Even assuming we survived the bombs, I had no idea how radiation would affect our kind.  Would we be safe or would we succumb to radiation sickness?  I really did not want to find out. 

     Katya had photo shoots to do that week so I was on my own during the days.  I used the time to visit several banks and open accounts under different names at each one.  While the clothes Katya had selected were good for these tasks where it helped to look like a woman of means, I needed some new everyday clothes as well.  I visited Bloomingdale’s and purchased several outfits.  I noticed right away the cheerfulness of the locals was gone.  There was a much more somber feel to the city.  We watched the evening news together each night.  Katya tried to be upbeat but usually ended up being anger at human stupidity.  We slept together in her bed like we used to when we were girls. 

     The Cuban Missile Crisis ended a week later.  The world let out a collective sigh of relief went back to normal.  

     I realized how much I had missed Katya.  I was glad I had been with her during the crisis and not alone.  I had originally planned on only staying with her for a few weeks at most or so but now I was thinking of staying longer.  I liked not being alone.