gotten permission for them to use the toilets in the station. Meli got up gratefully, taking Vlora by the hand. She hesitated, looking at Baba and Mehmet and her little brothers. She was afraid to let them out of her sight even for a minute, but she really couldn't wait any longer.
Mama was half carrying Granny. Auntie Burbuqe and Nexima each carried a twin, so Meli took little Elez's hand. With a hundred pardons and excuses, they made their way through the crowd to the toilets. Meli was terrified that once others saw where they were headed, the room would be mobbed and they'd never get in, but they got there first, before the crowd realized what was happening. They were wearing so much clothing, it was a struggle to use the toilet. She helped Vlora first, then went herself. By the time they were at the basins, trying to clean up a bit, women and children were pouring into the small room. Meli quickly washed Vlora's and Elez's faces with her hand and splashed cool water on her own filthy face and hands before they had to squeeze out to leave space for others as needy as themselves.
It was well after midnight when they heard the long whistle of an oncoming train. Meli's relief turned to horror when she saw that the engine coming to a halt was pulling a long line of freight cars. It was just like the terrifying old stories. Policemen flung open the huge sliding doors. The metallic rattle echoed down the line like the death throes of a mechanical beast.
"Hold on to each other!" Baba's voice pierced her fear. "Tight! Hold on tight!"
"Move! Move! You lazy pigs! Get up there! Now!" The police used their big pistols to push and shove the Albanians up and into the cars. With babies crying and old people whimpering and the frightened crowd pushing and shoving, Meli was terrified that she would let go of Adil's and Isuf's small hands, but she clung to them as though all their lives depended on it. Baba and Uncle Fadil helped Mama, Auntie Burbuqe, and Nexima up first. Then they handed Granny and Nexima's children and Vlora up to them before they climbed in themselves.
"Meli, Mehmet," Baba called. "Help the boys!" Meli hesitated. How could she hand one brother up without letting go of the other's hand?
"I've got him," Mehmet said, and he slung Isuf up to Baba's waiting arms as though he were nothing but a small parcel. Then it was Adil's turn.
"Now you, Meli," Mehmet said.
Again she hesitated. She was nearly as heavy as Mehmet. "Come on!" he barked, grabbing her around the waist and hoisting her up so that she was on her knees, falling forward into the crowded interior. Baba pulled her to her feet and then, holding to the side of the car, leaned out and pulled Mehmet to safety. Seconds later a policeman came by and gave the door a powerful shove, and they were plunged into darkness.
She heard Baba and Uncle Fadil calling everyone's name. No one was missing. They might die, but they would at least die together.
There was no room for most people to sit down, although Meli learned later that Baba and Uncle Fadil had managed to get Granny to the side of the car, where she could sit leaning against the metal wall. Meli herself could only stand in the crowded boxcar, sweating in her two dresses, her sweater, and her jacket. She held on to her little brothers by their hands, their shoulders, their jacket collars—anything to keep contact with them in the dark.
She would never know just how long the family was on the train. It simply sat at the station for what seemed like hours before it began noisily to move, waking up all the sleeping children. Then it went for what could hardly have been more than a few yards before it squealed and shuddered to a stop. This happened over and over again, each time the train stopping so suddenly that it would throw the occupants hard against each other. Once Meli heard Adil cry out in alarm.
Don't let him be crushed,
she prayed.
She tried not to think of the smell. At first it was simply the sweat