Page 18 of Winter's End
“I have seen more than my share of violence,” Evi burst out. “Innocent people shot in the street. Nazis leaving a shop owner for dead, his blood dripping into the gutter…”
Mila spoke quietly. “She is right, Lotte. You have seen these things for yourself. You risk your life – and your daughter’s life – every time you transport a fugitive.”
She could see Lotte’s mouth working.
“These Nazi bastards have been getting away with murder from the moment they crossed our border,” Mila said. “We work daily to sabotage their phone lines, bomb their transports, keep innocents from dying at their hands – but they never lack for new ways to torture us.”
She paused. “Lotte, this is a chance for Evi – your beautiful, brave Evi – to help us eliminate oneverdoemdeNazi at a time.”
In the silence, Evi locked eyes with her mother. “I have to do this, Mam.”
Mila saw the defeat in Lotte’s face. “…What, exactly, would she have to do?”
EVI
The kerosene lamp flickered and died early on a Thursday night – all at once, without warning, plunging them into darkness as they sat eating a dinner of cold cabbage soup.
Mam burst into tears. Evi rose silently, carrying their dishes to the sink. She reached into a cabinet with a steadiness that surprised her. “We have candles, Mam,” she said. “We will be fine.”
“I’m sorry,lieveling,” Lotte sniffled. “I am the mother. I should be the brave one. It is only that …”
“Youarebrave,” Evie murmured, setting two fat candles in a pair of brass holders. “I hope I can be as brave as you have been from the moment the Germans stormed in.”
She struck a match and set the candles alight, bringing an eerie, dancing light into the cabin.
“It is fortunate the hold is empty,” Mam’s face was half in shadow. “It will be pitch dark down there.”
She paused. “Evi, Zoe asked me yesterday if we could manage to shelter two little children – Jewish orphans from Germany who saw their parents shot to death by Nazis as they watched.”
Evi’s eyes widened.
“Resistance forces are trying to spirit the children out of Germany and deliver them to relatives in Portugal,” Mam said.
“Portugal?”
“Yes. From Belgium into Southern France, then though Spain and into Portugal – which is still,Godzijdank,a neutral country.”
But the danger in such an extended route was daunting, Evi knew. “How old are these children?”
“I believe they are four and six.”
Evi shivered, not just from the cold. Her mother’s face looked older in the flickering light. “Mam,” she said, “children that young cannot possibly be in the hold by themselves.”
“I know. I know that, Evi, but neither can they be turned away. Most of the hiding families in Haarlem are already caring for more children than they can feed – and we are at least able to transport them down river to be moved along to other hands.”
Evi washed and dried the few dishes by candlelight. “When are the children scheduled to arrive?”
“If they arrive. We can never know for certain, you know that, Evi – but perhaps in the next few days if God is good to them.”
Evi took a deep breath. “We may as well go to bed now, Mam. Tomorrow, in the light of day, we will talk about what we can or cannot do.”
...
First light came late as winter stole more of the daylight. Evi had been awakened by air raid sirens during the night and once she thought she had heard the scream of a grenade. She climbed out of bed just after seven and dressed in the murky darkness.
With no way to light classrooms as the days darkened, she was fairly sure school would be closed. But all was quiet, and she missed her friends. She decided to find out for certain.
She scribbled a note for Mam, who was still asleep, pulled a wool cap over her ears, and hoisted her book bag over a shoulder. Inmoments, she blended into a smaller group than usual heading toward the main road. She was not surprised. Without power, fewer businesses could operate, and there were fewer places for people to go.
