The cars ahead of her, now crawling, quickly turned into white mounds of snow: their red tail lights scarcely visible. In spite of having to drive under these difficult conditions, Helga was thankful. From past experience, she knew the frontier guards were cursory in their check when the weather was this bad.
Her mind was in a daze of bewilderment, excitement and doubt. She had read and heard so much about the dangers of picking up a lone hitch hiker, but this boy had seemed so open, friendly and warm. She had been convinced he was completely honest and likeable, but now she began to wonder. Was it really possible he could have lost everything, including his passport? But he was honest, she assured herself. He had wanted to return the money she had given him. This business about having to get into Switzerland and this man Ron had told him about from whom he could get another passport (forged?) really worried her. She remembered the conviction in Larry’s voice when he had said, Sure, I like you. No one could speak like that without meaning it, but all the same, was he making use of her?
She saw the frontier sign with the word halt, half hidden by the snow. The cars ahead of her were already crawling by the frontier post. She could see the German guard, snug behind his glass shelter, waving them impatiendy through.
Her heart was thumping when it came to her turn, but the guard merely waved his hand and then turned away. She had her passport and green card on her lap. Now for the Swiss frontier, she thought and flinched. She was behind three cars. Two of them were waved through: the one just ahead of her had Swiss number plates. She felt a chill of fear when she saw two frontier guards, their capes and peaked caps covered with snow, standing either side of the car ahead. There was some talk, then the guard on the off-side of the car came towards her. She lowered the window, seeing the Swiss car move off.
The guard saluted her, his face purple with the cold and accepted her passport and green card.
As he flicked through the pages of her passport, he asked, “Have you anything to declare?”
“No, nothing.”
She realized he was looking at her and there was approval in his eyes and she forced a smile. He returned her papers.
“Have you heard if it is getting worse?” she asked. “It couldn’t be worse than this, madame,” he said with a grin, then he saluted her and stepped back.
She wound up the window and set the car moving. She felt a little sick but triumphant. Now she had the problem of getting Larry out of the boot. She couldn’t just stop and let him get out to be seen by any and every eye.
He must be freezing in the boot, she thought as she drove with the traffic. Then ahead of her she saw a big building site. In this blizzard, no one could be working, she thought and she swung the car on to the rough road leading to the site. Looking in the driving mirror she saw she had already lost sight of the main road, wiped from view by the blinding snow. She stopped the car, got out into the driving snow and ran around to the boot. She had to struggle to release the catch, then she lifted the lid. “Quick!”
He slid out and had shut the boot before she realized he was moving.
“You drive… I’ll tell you where to go,” she said and ran around to the passenger’s seat. They both got in the car and slammed the doors, then she found him looking at her, his face alight with that warm, friendly grin.
“You see, ma’am… like I told you… it worked.”
“Yes… you must be frozen.”
“I’m fine, but I want to thank you, ma’am.” He reached out and his hand 33
closed over hers. “I really appreciate it and I think you have a load of guts if you’ll excuse me saying it like that.”
She could feel his coldness through her glove.
“Let’s get something to eat,” she said reluctantly withdrawing her hand. “Then we can talk.”
She directed him up St. Jacobs’ strasse, then she told him to turn right where there was a parking lot. As he found space and cut the engine, he said, “You know this town, ma’am?”
“I know it. There’s a restaurant not far from here. We’ll have to walk. Would you put my suitcases in the boot?”
Ten minutes later, both plastered with snow, they entered the steam heat of a modest restaurant she had once visited on another of her lone journeys.
Because she was not only cold but very nervous she could face nothing but a plate of soup. She ordered soup, two large pork chops and chips for Larry.
“Let’s eat first,” she said, sure he would be interested only in the food that was coming and wouldn’t concentrate on answering her questions.
When the meal was finished and they had thawed out and were sipping coffee, she said, “Look, Larry, I want to know more about this. I want to know more about this girl who took your passport.”
He looked away and she imagined he was shuffling his feet.
“Well, ma’am, I guess you’ve done enough for me for me to lay it on the line, but I guess it’s kind of embarrassing.” He stared down at his hands, frowning. “You see, ma’am, every so often I have to have a woman.” He pulled at the peak of his cap. This time she hadn’t reminded him to take it off. “I get this urge, and it gets too much for me.” Again he dragged at the peak of his cap. “Excuse me. You asked me… I’m laying it on the line. I hope you will understand.”
Yes, I understand, she thought, you get this urge from time to time. I’m never free of it!
“Of course, Larry… was she a pro?”
He nodded, not looking at her.
“Yeah. It got pretty hairy. Two guys broke in, and there was a punch-up. They sure handled me and they threw me out.” He looked at her, then away. “I guess I was lucky to keep my trousers.”
She searched his face for any signs of a fight, but found none. She felt compassion. She understood he didn’t want to admit to her that some cheap little whore had robbed him of everything he owned.
There was no point in pressing this, she decided. It really wasn’t important. He was just a kid… kids did things like this. The important thing was his passport.
“Well, Larry, we are now in Switzerland,” she said. “You have no passport. What are you going to do?”
“I guess I’ve got to have a passport.” He fingered the peak of his cap, then he flushed. “Goddamn it! I’m still wearing this goddamn thing!” He tore the cap off his head and stuffed it under his thigh. “Excuse me, ma’am. I guess I’m a hick. I just don’t know when I’m wearing it.”
“How do you get another passport?” she asked. “What was this you said about… Ron?”
He shifted in his seat.
“Well, he gave me an address right here, ma’am. It costs, but I can get around to that.” He leaned forward, resting his big hands on the table and looked directly at her. “Look, ma’am, you’ve done enough for me. Thank you for everything. Thank you for getting me through the frontier. Thank you for this meal. You’ve been great! Now, I’m on my own. From now on, you don’t have to think of me. I’ll manage.”
She regarded him steadily.
“That was a very pretty speech, Larry, but I think you have been watching too much television. Your next line, set against a fading sunset should be, “And thanks for the memory, but this is goodbye”.”
He turned beetroot red as he gaped at her.
“What was that again, ma’am?”
She took from her bag her gold cigarette case and lit a cigarette with her gold Dunhill.
“I go so far, Larry, but don’t push it. I don’t kid easily. If you want to be on your own, then get up and go. If you want to manage on your own so bravely, I’m not stopping you, but don’t give me this corny dialogue… do I make myself clear?”
He reached for the peak of his cap, but not finding it, he ran his fingers through his hair.
“Excuse me, ma’am. I didn’t mean a come-on. Honest… I’m just a hick… excuse me.”