Page 23 of Winter's End
“So, Gerrit,” Zoe began. “My mother has kept me informed over the years. But tell me, how does a shy little boy from Enschede become the head of a hospital in Heemstede?”
Gerrit laughed. “He muddles his way through school, grows a dapper little beard, and somehow, he manages to fool people smarter than he into thinking he is a brilliant administrator. And you, Zoe? You are a veterinarian, yes? In Haarlem?”
“Yes, and yes. It is a perfect job for me. My patients never question my diagnoses.”
Gerrit chuckled.
The two had lived kilometers apart in the first ten years of their lives, playing in the park nearly every afternoon, learning to swim, to skate. They had not seen one another for nearly as many years, but she was happy to feel that there was still an easiness between them.
“You are well, Gerrit?”
“Mostly. Like everyone.” He paused. “Do you remember Jaan Voelker?”
“Of course. He used to play soccer with us.”
Gerrit sighed. “He was killed last month in a German bomb strike. He was working to repair a blocked sewer line at the time. Wrong time, wrong place…an innocent – “
“Oh Gerrit, I am so sorry.”
She told him about her encounter with the Gestapo on the way home from visiting her parents – the blatant cruelty, the pistol inches from her face. “It is the reason why I work for the Resistance, Gerrit. We all must do what we can.”
He nodded sadly, and it was time, she knew, to tell him the reason for her visit.
She repeated Daan’s concern for the Haarlem families losing their homes to the German outpost.
“Think about this, please Gerrit,” she said. “Several of these families are hiding Jewish children. Now they have no place to go.”
She paused. “This is a public hospital, cousin, an established hospital, and not one the Germans are apt to search without reason. Do you think you could find a way to house these people here?”
Gerrit met her gaze. When he spoke, his voice was quiet. “We are at this moment, Zoe, hiding more than a few Jewish doctors in this hospital, as well as three downed Allied airmen who were grabbed by sympathizers and brought here for care so they would not be found bythe Germans. They are posing here as hospital patients and medical personnel. We are hiding them, as they say, in plain sight..”
Zoe brought her hands to her face. “Oh, Gerrit…”
“But whole families, Zoe – and children…I don’t see how…”
“We are skilled at moving people, Gerrit.” She leaned forward. “We can bring them here in small groups, take circuitous routes so as not to draw attention. Only as many as you can manage to accommodate, cousin…It isurgente. These people are desperate.”
Gerritt rubbed the back of his neck. “I know.”
He got up and paced across his office. “Perhaps the basement. It is where our morgue is housed. But there is not much light or open space down there. It would not be a decent space for children…”
He paced a moment more, then turned to face her, his hands resting on his desk. “Waits…I have another idea….”
He sat. “Before the war began, we had started to renovate the top floor of the hospital. Our hope was to create a ward expressly for cancer patients – and a research lab to …well, no matter. We abandoned the project when the funds ran dry after the German occupation. Part of the floor is still unusable because it is only half-renovated.”
Zoe leaned forward. “If we could insulate it, Gerrit – keep it masked from entry as though it still being renovated…”
“I don’t know…”
“We could dress some of the men in work clothes, cousin.” Zoe leaned forward. “Give them paint and some building materials they could pretend to use if they needed to…”
Gerrit stood, resumed his pacing. “Yes, but even if we could manage it, Zoe, I’m not sure how we could feed these people. Our kitchen is struggling now to feed our patients.”
“Lieve god, Gerrit, we are all hungry. We hear rumors that tulip growers are plowing over their fields and eating the bulbs...“
She touched her cousin’s shoulder. “I can promise you the Resistance Council will do its best to find food for these people. But first we must keep them off the streets.”
Gerrit ran a hand through his beard. “All right” he said at last. “We will find a way.”
