"Don't throw me out Mama, please... please, I need you."
Ruda had reached up, held the big fat woman, smelled her heavy perfume. She wanted to lie in this woman's arms, wanted her to comfort her, and Magda rocked her gently. "I can't let you, it's too much of a risk, just get yourself cleaned up, like a nice good Mama's girl."
Magda had cupped Ruda's face, and then on an impulse kissed her lips. She thrust her tongue into Ruda's mouth. She started smothering her. She took Ruda's hand and put it under her skirts, between her big fat thighs. "Oh yes... yes, push your fingers inside me, Ruda, yes... yes!"
Magda sweated and moaned, and Ruda pressed and could feel the wetness dripping from Magda, seeping down her thick thighs. She began to moan and groan as she climaxed, and then she sighed... her body shuddered. Ruda prayed it was over, she could hardly breathe.
Ruda had to wait for Magda to finish bathing before she could wash. Magda tossed her a few clothes from a trunk, and told Ruda she could have them. They were good clothes, hardly worn, and Ruda clutched them tightly. Magda dressed in one of her tents, slipped on some gold bangles, and redid her makeup. "Go on, sweetface, get yourself all cleaned up and out of here. When you're through, come into the office. I'll give you some money, don't expect a lot, I need every cent I earn, but I'll see you have enough to get to another big city, maybe give you a few contacts."
Ruda slipped into Magda's bathwater, it was still quite warm. She soaped her body and leaned back. She dreamed of the lion tamer, Luis Grimaldi. She had to get to America, she had to find Kellerman, she had to find Luis Grimaldi wherever he was.
Ruda buttoned up the dress, it was too short, and the neckline gaped on her thin shoulders. She had been given a pair of underpants, the crotch hung very low, they were many sizes too large, but they were silk. She put on a nice plaid coat with padded shoulders, then she went to the dressing table to brush her hair and see if she could find a safety pin to close up the neckline of the dress.
She looked over the dressing table dusted with powder, there were pots of cream and makeup jars everywhere. There was a large box full of beaded necklaces and cheap bangles, but no safety pin. Ruda inched open the small drawer under the mirror; in a leather jewel box she saw rows of rings. She picked one up and squinted; it was gold. She looked over the rings again. They were Magda's famous diamonds, the rings she wore on every finger.
Ruda took a handful and started for the door. Then she went back and took a necklace, stuffing it into her pocket. Her heart was pounding. She opened the door and crept down the stairs, past the kitchens and the rest rooms. She saw no one, but as she reached the entrance to the club, she heard voices. Magda was giving the barman hell because he was not watering the drinks enough.
Ruda ran out and down the street in a panic, not sure which way to go, or where. She kept putting her hands into her coat pockets, making sure the rings were there.
She went to a club she had worked at with Rudi and spoke to the manager, who gave her the once-over. She was looking very classy... he touched her coat. "Found yourself a rich American, have you?"
Ruda smiled. "No, something better, I got people, a family with money, and they want a contact for passports."
The manager shrugged and said he couldn't help her, he knew of no one dealing in foreign documents or currency.
"Kellerman. I want to talk to Kellerman, I know you know him, and I know he's somewhere in the Kreuzberg district. Now you tell me, or I tip off the authorities, I know this club is a contact drop."
Ruda found Kellerman sitting in a bar playing poker. It had been a long walk. She didn't have money for a taxi, even for a bus.
Kellerman didn't recognize her, and she didn't remind him where they had last met. He took her into a back room and looked her over, leaning against the wall as if he were some American movie star — all three feet of him.
"So what do you want?"
"Visa, passport, tickets to America."
He laughed out loud. "Oh yeah... what makes you think I can get them?"
Ruda sat down and swung her leg, her legs were good, and she inched up her skirt.
"Friend told me, I got something to trade!"
Kellerman touched her knee. "Baby, if it's your cunt, forget it. What you want costs a lot more than a fuck!"
"Maybe I've got a lot more."
Kellerman shoved his hands into his tiny pockets. "Let's see what you got."
Ruda was no fool, she had stashed the bulk of the stones under a broken-down truck outside the bar. She took out only a couple of rings, and held them in the palm of her hand. Kellerman picked one up, examined it, then prodded her palm with his short squat finger. "Good stones... but this isn't enough."
"I have more, a lot more, and I've got a marriage license."
"You'll need birth certificates, inoculation, visas, passport, then tickets..."
Ruda felt her heart drop. How much was this going to cost? She held out her hand again. "I've got more, a necklace, diamonds... how much do I need?"
Kellerman touched her palm again, and then he pushed back the sleeve of her coat and saw the tattoo. She tried to withdraw her wrist, but he held on to her. "S'okay, I won't hurt you... where were you?"
Ruda bowed her head. "Does it matter?"
"I guess not, all that matters is you survived, eh? I'm not prying — see, I got one too."
He lifted his sleeve. Then he flushed and pulled his cuff down. "I don't show it to anybody... I was at Birkenau."
She virtually whispered it. "So was I."
He looked up into her face, and reached to touch her cheek with his short stubby hand. There was no need to speak, there was mutual understanding in their eyes, it was not compassion, or love, it was a kind of solidarity. Ruda kneeled, and Kellerman cradled her in his arms. Still they did not speak, and it was Kellerman who broke the embrace. Stepping back he said, softly: "Never get down on your knees for anyone. Look at me, show me a fist, show me some fire in those eyes... I'll get us out of this shit. Get up, up on your feet, girl." He began to pace up and down, short, blunt steps.
"We got to find a buyer first, sell the stones, turn them into cash, then we can do the deal. If you got more like the ones you showed me, we can get enough."
"We? I don't understand, why we?"
He gave her a cheeky wide smile. He had perfect white teeth, and his face was cherubic under the thick black curly hair. "Yeah, that's the deal — Ruda, you said your name was?"
"Yes, Ruda—" She could not say her recently acquired last name.
"The deal is, Ruda, I get the documents, make all the arrangements, but I want to come with you. We both go to America, and I'll get us a license. We get married, you go as Ruda Kellerman, it'll make it a lot easier. I already got my papers, I just never had enough dough to get out of this shithole."
She hesitated, then smiled. He looked up at her. "You know when you smile, it changes your whole face."
"Same could be said of you."
He chuckled. "I guess maybe we've neither had too much to smile about, but have we got a deal?"
She nodded, but then held her hand up. "But it's just a marriage of convenience, right? And where the stones go, I go? Agreed?"
He laughed, and then swung the door wide with a flourish. "Let's go, partner. America here we come!"
It had taken two nerve-wracking months. Ruda and Kellerman stayed in his small rented room. He never made any advances toward her; instead they played cards and he taught her how to read and write. They felt safe together and they liked each other. He found out about the magician, and said she would come to no harm, he would take care of her. And he did. He pocketed a lot of the money for himself, but he kept his promise, he got them to America.