Chapter 12 - St

Dirk Jan and Joris were excited for Saint Nicholas Day, but they knew they wouldn't get much to eat. They pretended to see Saint Nicholas trying to buy a present but being refused. The girls enjoyed teasing and imagining Saint Nicholas's arrival. They put their slippers out and received small gifts. Later, they saw the real Saint Nicholas outside their window and he came into their home. Trixie sang a song, and Koba and Betsy sang their father's secret song. Saint Nicholas gave them chocolate and had dinner with the family. He promised to bring good news to their father. The girls went to bed happy and tired. Chapter 12, Saint Nicholas. The great day of Saint Nicholas was coming closer. Dirk Jan and Joris pretended to be excited, though they knew very well they'd be lucky if there was something extra to eat. When they came home from school, their faces red from the biting wind, they'd say, We've seen Saint Nicholas. He was trying to buy a present at Miss Janson's store, but Miss Janson wouldn't let him have anything. He doesn't have to buy, said Betsy. He brings everything with him from Spain. Maybe they're short there, too, teased Dirk Jan. It's Spain, snorted Betsy. No fear. Another time, Joris would come with the tale that the Gestapo had arrested Saint Nicholas for walking around without an identity card. Crow would take it seriously and shook her head, but little Betsy put her finger on the weak spot. He doesn't need an identity card. Everyone knows him, she crowed. You're just fooling him. All the same, the little girls enjoyed the teasing. It made everything seem more magical, even if it wasn't true. Anywhere you looked but those early December days, you might see Saint Nicholas coming towards you on his splendid white horse, the red of his coat contrasting with the white frosty trees, his mitre with its gold cross glittering in the twilight. Beside him, he would have this black Moorish servant in a gorgeous red velvet suit. The two of them might be peeping through a gap in the curtain when the girls lay in bed at night, or perhaps they would peek down from a hole in the mill's latch to see if Koba and Betsy were being good. So Koba and Betsy were very good. They did not cry for their mother anymore, not even at night. They told Trixie such wonderful tales of Saint Nicholas's supernatural powers that that young lady was quite won over. At first, she'd been a little frightened of this magical personage whom she had never seen, but Koba's and Betsy's fervor was catching, and she, too, began to ask eagerly, When's he coming? When shall I see him? Mother tried to think of a way she could manage a Saint Nicholas costume, but she had used all her extra tablecloth and sheets already, so where would she find cotton wool for a beard? She had to give it up. From Saint Nicholas Eve, Koba and Betsy trustfully put their little leather slippers beside the clogs of the other three, their janitor's only foot out there, since the man that Koba and Betsy lived detested the lack of trust in their attitude. Mother had managed the impossible. Out of old ribbons and a little strand of wool, she had made three little dolls, no bigger than a finger, with shoes made of red sealing wax and dresses fashioned from an old tin cushion. For each of the boys, she had knitted a pair of woolen mittens out of a muffler of her own. The joy of the children, the next morning, rang through the house. Dirk Jan and Joris were immensely pleased. They had been suffering from cold hands, and the mittens were deliciously warm. They kept to them all day. They had expected nothing, and this was riches. The girls nourished their tiny new babies tenderly, and Betsy jumped around trying to find him. See, see, Saint Nicholas knew where to find us, didn't he? But she still expected him to appear personally during the day and had an answer for all the difficulties Mother invented, which might prevent it from happening. As it began to grow dark, the little girls were not to be kept away from the windows. Their little noses were pressed flat against the panes in expectation of the Saint. Mother had kept some extra candles to brighten the evening. She had made eel soup and apple fritters, and she tried to coax the girls to the table. It was time to close the blackout curtains. Trixie came willingly enough. She knew the delight of food by experience, whereas Saint Nicholas was only hearsay. But Koba and Betsy set up heart-wrenging protests. He'll be coming soon now. Look, there's a moon in the sky. They began to sing the traditional Dutch Saint Nicholas songs. See, the moon shines through the trees. Now listen, said Mother. Do you hear those bombers? How can Saint Nicholas come when there is great war on? But at that moment, Betsy uttered a shriek. There! There he is! He's coming! I knew it! I knew it! She was dancing around wildly, and after one look, out of the window, Koba was dancing too. Incredulous, Mother looked out, and indeed, majestic against the darkening sky, his cloak flowing regally from his shoulders, a magnificent beard rippling down his chest, his miter one glow and sparkle of gold and jewels, walked Saint Nicholas, beside him small and lithe, with quick steps, strode, teased her boss, his servant, a melded cab, with a feather jauntily over one ear. Saint Joseph, preserve us, cried Mother. Those girls must be witches. There is the authentic Saint Nicholas in person. Shutting the blackout curtain, she hurriedly arranged the room to receive the bishop. She lit that extra candle, kept the food warm on the stove, and when Fred barked, she was ready to open the door to her visitors. She called Father and the boys down from the attic, where they were inspecting eel nets. The whole family gathered in the living room as Saint Nicholas entered majestically, stamping his golden staff. Teased her boss, followed and stood smiling, his teeth white and his black face. Koba and Betsy, suddenly shy, hid behind a chair. Trixie fled to Mother and, tightly clasping the folds of her skirt, pointed a fat finger at Teased her boss and crowed, Look at the tiny little black Saint Nicholas! No hush, that's Teased her boss, Trixie. It's Saint Nicholas, the bishop, with the red hat. Oh, I like this little one, said Trixie rudely. Teased her boss rewarded her with a special ring. One day, everybody, greeted Saint Nicholas. Good day, everybody, greeted Saint Nicholas solemnly. God be with you. God be with you, good Saint, said Father, holding out a chair for his guests. But Saint Nicholas didn't promise. He stood tall and straight, the gold braid glittering on his cloak. Are there any good children here? He asked from a deep voice. Yes, me, said Trixie, coming forward cautiously with a look over her shoulder to see if Mother was still safely there. Ah, how do you do, said Saint Nicholas, giving her his full attention, and holding out his hand, from which a white lace ruffled, hung down gracefully. Trixie ventured forward, shook hands, and looked up at the immense height, up along the beard, the mustache, the long nose, until she saw the twinkling blue eyes. I like you, she said suddenly, confident. I like you, too, Saint Nicholas agreed. Then he caught sight of the two little girls towering behind the chair. And those children, he asked, haven't they been good? You know, said that little voice, you know everything, said Nicholas, smiling. Then I know you've been good, he said. Come here and shake hands with me. The two girls came forward, but Trixie wasn't ready to yield the limelight yet. I can sing a song, she knows. Every curl in her head charged with fire. Well, that's lovely, said Saint Nicholas, sitting down at last on the chair Father was holding ready for him. Let's hear it. We love songs, don't we? Theatre boss. Yes, sir, said theatre boss. Trixie took a deep breath and then sang with great vigor, but without much tune. Saint Nicholas, oh bonnie, bonnie, bonnie, sends me sweets and cakes with honey, sends me presents in my shoe. Saint Nicholas, I love you. That's five, said Saint Nicholas. You're a good little singer. I know, admitted Trixie, modestly. Then she ran to bury her head in Mother's lap, overwhelmed with her own success. And you, asked Saint Nicholas to the other little girls, can you sing a song? The little girls blushed rosily. They looked at each other, and then they stood and looked away again. I know one song, said Hobo. Bessie knows it, too. Yes, said Bessie, looking solemn. It's Father's song, said Hobo. Yes, said Hobo. He sings it to us softly at night. No one may hear it, Hobo exclaimed. Well, sing it to us, heard Saint Nicholas. Everyone was interested. What kind of song was that, that a father sang secretly to his little girls at night? Hobo and Bessie clasped each other by the hair. The candlelight glinted on their curved, corn-colored braids. They breathed deeply and sang in a clear, firm little voice. I trust in my protection, and the Lord's anger I feel. On you my strength is founded, so keep my spirit true. It is my wish to forgive, to say a valiant cry, and in the faithful passion which has no end to find. There was a silence when the children stopped. Saint Nicholas had tears in his eyes, and so had mother and father. Pretty, innocent Mike had sung the second couplet of the forbidden national anthem, the song of William the Silent. Thank you, said Saint Nicholas in a husky voice. But the momentary lull was soon broken for Saint Nicholas told Pieterbos to look in the bag and see what was in it. To everyone's amazement, Pieterbos pulled out six chocolate bars. They were small bars, but they might have been gold. Chocolate had been unknown in Holland for the past three years. Now Betsy believed more than ever in Saint Nicholas's magic. Saint Nicholas sat at the table and had supper with the family. Mother had added to the meal a sauce of the mushrooms George had picked so that there would be enough food for everybody. Betsy explained that she had never before eaten with Saint Nicholas. Are you going to see my daddy? she asked. Saint Nicholas was struggling with the soup. He seemed to have difficulty finding his mouth through his ears. Yes, yes, he said. Of course, I don't forget people. What will you bring him? asked Betsy. Bread pudding? she told him. Bread pudding seemed to be a family joke, the stationmaster's spouse. No, I'm going to bring him good news of his little girl. He'll like that best. Saint Nicholas coaxed and Betsy nodded. That seemed reasonable. After supper, the girls were put to bed. They soon fell asleep, exhausted from all the excitement. The rest of the family withdrew to the kitchen where Saint Nicholas thankfully put off his miter and their prickly beard, and Pietrobus washed his face at the sink. The others had guessed that Saint Nicholas was Uncle Cor, but they had been wondering about Pietrobus and exclaimed when the gay little face of Rihanna emerged from the bath. I'm dying to know, said Mother, what brings you two here? You've no idea what a godsend you are. Betsy was convinced that Saint Nicholas would come. I could not get it out of her head. I'd have hated for her to be disillusioned. It was sheer necessity, said Uncle Cor. There was a German police raid at one of our meetings. All of us got away, I think. Rihanna came to warn us ahead of time, which gave us the chance we needed. She gave Rihanna an uproaring nod, and she blushed. We had to escape through a window on the roof, and as we were surrounded, Rihanna and I crawled through the window into the attic next door. There was a Saint Nicholas party going on downstairs. We explained what had happened. They were real patriots. They let us put on costumes. The lady of the house blackened Rihanna with shoe polish, and we calmly left through the door into the street. The German soldiers laughed and led us through. Everywhere we were cheered. There aren't as many Saint Nicholas figures around now with so many people in hiding, though it's a perfect disguise. We even got a lift out of the city on a German soldier's lorry. The soldiers made all sorts of jokes, and when they found that this bag of peterbusts was empty, they filled it with chocolate from their own rations. When we came to... say her word, we asked them to let us off. Ria wanted to visit her uncle, so we did. He was startled out of his wits. He didn't expect to see Saint Nicholas, and then we came on here. I told Rianna this would be the real thing, that you had three little girls with you. Oh, they're ducks, said Rianna. The way they looked at you, Saint Nicholas, with those big eyes full of faith. Yes, said Uncle Thor. When I saw those trusting, reverent eyes raised to me, I felt unworthy. It must be hard for God to refuse the prayer of little children. What are you playing them out for? Asked Mother. Will you stay here for a while? Uncle Thor gave a short laugh. Ha! I'll have to, he said. It's risking my life to show my nose in Leyden at present, but the work has to go on. I'm wondering if Dirk Jan could go to Leyden to deliver a message for me tomorrow. Certainly, said Father. Dirk Jan is old enough, and he has a lot of sense. He could do that for you. Dirk Jan flushed with pleasure, but Mother looked worried. Still, if Dirk Jan could help her brother. You see, my regular little courier will have to lie low a bit, too, said Uncle Thor, looking at Rianna. She'll stay with her uncle until the trouble in Leyden was blown over, or keeping the Germans so busy they can't concentrate too long on the same thing. You must... You must come and visit often, said Mother, with a warm look at Rianna. She loved Rianna for having warmed her brother in time. What dread things might otherwise have happened?