Chapter 5 - Shadows

Joris's mother is busy preserving food for the upcoming hard winter due to food shortages caused by the Germans. Joris is trying to figure out how to get food to Charles King, the starving Englishman he is secretly helping. He is worried about getting caught and doesn't want to involve his family. Joris's father tells a story about the daring actions of a resistance leader named Kees Kip. Joris decides not to tell his mother about Charles King and remembers a traumatic event from the early years of the war involving a family being taken away by the Germans. Chapter 5 Shadows Mother was pleased with the mushrooms, but she was in the summerhouse doing very important last-minute things to her preserving. There was a frown between her eyes, and her mouth was puckered. Joris knew that this was not the moment to talk. After a while, the works slackened, jars of fruit and vegetables paraded like colorful soldiers on the shelves, and Mother stood watching them proudly. Whatever happens, she said, at least we'll have something to eat. It's going to be a hard winter. People may prattle about liberation, but the Germans have taken away so much of our food that even the Allies won't be able to help us right away. And if we are not liberated... There was so much real fear in her voice that Joris wandered off. It didn't seem right to tell her about Charles King. She had enough on her mind, but how was he going to get the food he'd promised to bring? Mother? He began. I'm hungry. I was surprised. It wasn't good manners to ask for snacks. That way, you got more than your share. Usually, when Joris felt hungry, he ate sorrel leaves, which grew between the grass, or he pulled up a turnip out of the garden. What's the matter? asked Mother. You know we don't eat between meals. Then she relented. There are a few cold potatoes on the plate over there, which you can have. Joris took the clammy boiled potatoes, wrapped them carefully in a big rhubarb leaf, and put them under his pillow in the press bed. Perhaps he would be able to save his bread at supper, and he could look for windfalls under the apple tree. There was not much chance of getting a piece of cheese or an egg. Mother guarded such fools. Mother guarded such food like jewels. No matter how Joris schemed, he could not see a way to lay his hands on real nourishing food for his starving Englishman. Besides, there was the difficulty of getting it to him unnoticed. Someone might have seen Joris near the mill this morning. If he went there again, it might attract suspicion. He'd have to go at night when it was dark, but that was after curfew and dangerous, too. Then there was the matter of clothes. The Englishman would not be able to leave the mill unless he was dressed like a Dutchman. But where could he find a man's suit? Anything Father could spare had been made over for Dirk Jan, and the more Joris thought about it, the more he felt that he'd rather not drag his parents into it. Then, even if things went wrong, they would not suffer the fate of poor Mr. Pouat. But he had never had a secret from his family, and he did not know how hard it was. When he tried to save the bread and butter at supper time, Mother eyed him suspiciously. Not hungry? That comes from eating between meals. Joris blushed and began to eat his bread in desperation. Luckily, Father started to talk about some great hoax played on the Germans by the Underground under the leadership of Kees Kip, one of the national heroes of the resistance. They raided the police headquarters in Amsterdam. I heard it from Mr. Koren, who was working with me on Mrs. Pouat's harvest. He has a brother living there. A police headquarters? Can you imagine what that means? It's there the Germans keep the records of the people whom they have, they say, have acted against the Reich. Kees Kip fooled the police beautifully. First, he spread a rumor that the resistance was going to raid the place at nine. Naturally, the Dutch police at headquarters were all excited and ready to deal with the attack by the Underground fighters. But nothing happened at nine. Two hours later, however, the police heard a shot knocking at the door. They opened it and saw two SS officers who had captured three resistance fighters. These swine wanted to raid this place, one of the SS men snarled at the awed Dutch policemen. He picked his prisoners and shoved them roughly against the wall in the proper Nazi manner. Have you a cell where you can lock them up until we deal with them tomorrow? The Dutch policemen bowed subserviently and led the way to the cells. In a twinkling, they were robbed of their keys, pushed into the cells, and locked up by the SS officers, who turned out to be Kees Kip and a friend. The so-called prisoners were also Underground workers, and they helped destroy every document in the place. They also took all the weapons and ration coupons and anything else they could use. They didn't finish until three in the morning and managed to get away safely. This story is going the rounds in Amsterdam. We could use more men like Kees Kip, Father finished. He's the most daring and imaginative Underground leader we have. While everyone was listening raptly to Father's story, Joris hid the rest of his bread. Who is Kees Kip, he asked. Nobody knows. The resistance works with false names. Relatives are too easily traced. All the same, it was terribly risky, said Mother. Of course it was, said Father. But they had a good reason for doing it. Because of that action, hundreds of people will not be arrested. We owe the resistance more than we know. I wish I knew where my brother was, said Mother worriedly. I haven't heard from him in ages, and I'm afraid he may be doing dangerous work, too. As you would yourself if you were Kees, said Father, looking at her quizzically. I wish I was old enough, muttered Dirk Jan. The war will be over before I've had a chance to fight. For shame, scolded Mother. Do you want this misery to go on? Just so you can strut about like a hero? Eat your applesauce and keep quiet. I'm only too thankful, mutt, that my boys are safe. Joris, who had begun to wonder whether to tell about Charles King, decided again to keep his mouth shut. Mother would probably consider Charles too dangerous. Besides, Charles was his. They weren't going to take Charles away from him. Mother, who had a horrible way of guessing what one was thinking, looked at him suspiciously. What's the matter with your hair? she asked. It's full of cobwebs. Oh, nothing, muttered Joris, wondering why Mother always noticed the wrong things. He had washed his hands and his face, and had been quite proud of remembering. I hope you aren't messing around in our attics, Mother continued sharply. You know I don't like that. Joris assured her that he hadn't. Mm-hmm. Anyway, your attics. Haven't any cobwebs, he said cleverly. Mother looked mullified, but she threatened him with a bath. Which wasn't fair. Baths were for Saturdays. It was bad enough once a week. It's nothing, he said. I can brush it off. Mother did not press the matter because a bath meant fuel to warm the water. She was saving as much as she could for winter. Meanwhile, Joris was wondering how he could sneak out after dark to bring food to his aviator. He had a mask, besides the potatoes, most of his slice of bread, and margarine, and a pancake. Joris went outside and pulled some carrots and turnips. He found apples, too. He hid them all in a basket under a bush. Trixie had followed him and was watching him with his intent eyes. Is it beneath? she asked. Uh, yeah, said Joris. He hoped she would not mention it to Mother. I'll help, cried Trixie, and rushed about tugging at bits of grass and sorrel and scattering them into the basket. Then she looked up radiantly. I like bunnies, she said. That evening, Joris did not have a chance to get away unnoticed. Usually, no one paid the slightest attention to him, but now, when something really important had cropped up, everyone seemed to be watching him. Whenever he got up, someone asked him where he was going. Mother even supervised his undressing so that she could keep his clothes on. So he could not keep his clothes on as he had planned. At last, he lay in bed, tossing and turning. Dirk Jan grumbled that he could not sleep. Joris forced himself to lie still. Mother and Father had gone into their press bed on the other side of the room. Joris stared wide-eyed into the darkness. Perhaps he ought to have told Mother. And now he remembered the terrible thing he had witnessed three years ago in the first year of the war. He and Mother had chanced to be in the village when German SS men took the Groen family out of their home and loaded them into a van. Joris remembered exactly how it happened. The street was empty. People fled into their houses and locked their doors. Mother and Joris stood rooted to the spot. They had nowhere to go. Mother flung her apron over Joris's head. He was still very small then, but he peeked underneath and saw it all. The old grandfather, who could hardly walk, was taken. He had a little black cap on his head and a big yellow star on his coat. Then came Mrs. Groen, two boys and a little girl, all wearing stars. Last of all came Mrs. Groen. And Joris would never forget her face. When she saw Mother, she made a sign to her, pointing to her garden. The SS men weren't looking. Mrs. Groen tried to say something with her lips without making a sound. Mother noticed it, for she grabbed Joris more tightly. When the van had closed with a dull thud and had roared off, Mother went to look in the garden. She heard the sad wails of a baby and found the younger Groen child tucked away in the bushes. It wasn't six months old yet. Mrs. Groen had managed to hide it. Mother grabbed the baby fiercely and hid it under her coat. She walked off with it so fast that Joris had to try to keep up with her. He noticed that Mother was weeping. No one saw them. People were still cowering behind the locked doors. Only when they were on the dike did Mother slow up a bit and settle the baby more comfortably and stop crying as soon as they had felt Mother's arms about it. Never, never, said Mother. She was half choking. Was there such a sin since Adam fell? Then it was that Joris saw her angry with the terrible anger of an avenging angel. Her blue eyes flashed and her voice trembled as she said, I would not blame God if he destroyed us for it. The words seemed to hover in the air like a menacing cloud. Joris trotted on silently for a while, then he asked, Do you think God is going to destroy us? Some of Mother's anger seemed to melt away as she looked at him. No, she said in a gentler voice, God isn't like that. He returns good for evil. But we haven't done anything bad, have we? asked Joris. It's only the Germans, isn't it? Mother shook her head. The Germans are people like us. They chose the wrong leader for themselves. That's all. The minute we disobey God, we're all just as bad. Remember, Joris, she told him solemnly, that you must love others as if they were our Lord. All of them, without exception. That is what he taught us. But you don't love the Germans, do you? asked Joris. Mother began to weep again. She held the baby very tightly as if something were hurting her. No, she said fiercely. No, I don't. I can't. They have done things that are too terrible. I can't forgive them. I'm sorry. It is too hard. Joris was amazed. His mother, who was so wise and powerful and good, could not do what she knew to be right. He had not known that it happened to grown-ups, too. But I shall love this baby, Mother said, as if she were making a bargain with God. I'll love it more than anyone else. Joris did not mind. He knew his mother loved him, too, and it seemed only fair to such a poor, abandoned baby. Joris did not know what the baby's name was, so he called her Beatrix, after one of the princesses. Trixie was a happy baby, and Joris thought she had good reason to be, because now she shares his father and mother, who were the best in the world. No one outside the mill knew what had happened. Mother pretended that Trixie was her own. She seldom went into the village, so people thought it was true, though they were surprised that they had not heard about it earlier. Perhaps some people did have doubts, but no one mentioned them. Everyone thought of Trixie as the youngest Verhagen, even the Verhagens themselves. Joris used to have nightmares after that. He would dream that the Germans were coming to take his father and mother away. Sometimes he awoke screaming. But when he was awake, he thought that if only he could go to those soldiers and explain that it was his own mother and father they wanted, not just anybody. Surely the soldiers had mothers and fathers, too. Well, then, of course they would not be able to take them. They would salute him and click their heels, saying, Hail Hitler! and go away. That's what he thought when he was awake and the sun shone. But at night the terrors would begin again. Perhaps it was because it was dark that Joris now wondered whether it might not happen to his family after all. If he was not careful, then the Germans might come to the mill and might discover who Trixie was. Her warm clothing was so different. Her warm coloring was so different from the pale blondness of the Verhagens. Had he been foolish to promise help to Charles? But he could not let Charles starve. Hoping that everything and everyone was asleep by now, he got up. He fell for his clothes and put them on blindly. It did not matter if they were inside out. Freya was locked in the kitchen. He had taken care of that. He stuffed the food he had hidden under his pillow into his pockets and then sneaked out. Aboard creaked. Then he got a fright. He listened for a while, but no one stirred. Quietly he left the room and managed to open the door without rousing the household. Once outside, he took a deep breath. Already the air smelled of dry leaves. The moon flooded the landscape with silver. Joris found his basket and walked along the dike, seeking the shadows. Overhead was the familiar drone of bombers. To be continued ...