Read Online Waiting for Robert Capa by Susana Fortes - Free Book Online Page B

She noted a soft tickling on her side before the tears began clouding her vision.
    Damn it, she said. Stupid damn Jew. Are you going to give those sons of bitches the satisfaction of bringing you to tears? She slammed the floor with her fist, brusquely, with a desperate rage aimed more at herself than anybody else, and on the same impulse she stood up, took the camera out of its bag—placing her eye on the viewfinder, adjusting the focus, then the diaphragm, first framing the parrot’s limp head, closing in on its tongue—and began to shoot. Hardened look, her nostrils dilated, her hands steady, white knuckles each time she pressed the shutter. Click. Click. Click. Click. Click…
    When Ruth and Chim arrived, they didn’t need to ask what had happened. They found her leaning on the kitchen table, her shirtsleeves rolled up above her elbows, frowning, concentrated on gluing back together the books that could still be salvaged. She was pale and wore a tense expression, obstinate, disciplined, as if that manual task was the only thing that could help her control her emotions. She didn’t move when they arrived or say a word. Chim weaved through the debris so he could hug her, but she put the brakes on him with her hand. She didn’t need comforting from anyone.
    â€œThey take anything?” he asked.
    â€œNothing essential.” Her voice sounded more gloomy than fragile. Her tennis shoes and clothes hanging in the back wardrobe were the only things that had survived the raid intact. “They boiled Captain Flint alive.”
    â€œYou have to leave this house,” Chim tried reasoning. “They can return at any time.”
    â€œAnd what good would that do?” said Gerta. “If they look, they’ll find you. The only thing we can do is be prepared in case it happens again.”
    Ruth knew perfectly what she was referring to but preferred not to argue with her friend this time. “They didn’t have to kill him,” she said. “He was an old and amusing bird; he’d go with anyone.”
    Gerta turned her face to the wall so they wouldn’t see her expression and swallowed saliva, but turned back soon after. While Chim tried convincing her, she remained motionless, her hand supporting her head. All his reasoning proved completely useless in making them desist. But they at least welcomed his offer to stay and sleep there that night. He would never think of leaving them alone.
    With the frenetic passion of those who, in reality, are trying to change the world, they dedicated the rest of the day to repairing all the damages. They plugged up the holes in the lock with filler. Ruth packed the typewriter in a leather bag to bring to a friend’s office in Le Marais. Chim was in charge of taking Captain Flint with him, wrapped up in a towel. Despite all her character and strength, Gerta did not have the heart to do it. He looked even smaller, like that, with his feathers drenched. Chim looked at him with affection, remembering his bow-legged walk, up to his old tricks all over the living room. He had never learned to talk, but on occasion he had the ability to listen with an intelligence that many humans would envy. Later, Chim climbed up a ladder with a brush in his hand and a hat made of newspaper on his head, absorbed in leaving the walls in the hallway immaculate, like pieces of eternity. His arms were speckled with tiny drops of paint. By the end of the day, everything seemed to be pretty close to being back in its place. You could say that the house had been able to withstand its first attack. Everything was impregnated with the smell of paint and solvent. They opened the windows and delighted in breathing in that uncertain air of summer’s beginnings.
    The political climate couldn’t have been more heated. England’s refusal to help France detain Hitler’s remilitarization of the Rhineland caused the French to think they’d been abandoned