Chapter 8 - Uncle Cor

The family prepares for bath time on Saturdays and discusses Charles's escape. Uncle Korr arrives unexpectedly, and they decide to go fetch Charles in the boat. Joris finds a piece of the aviator's map and a button, but is chased by Schinderhans. Joris manages to escape by climbing onto the moving wings of the mill and returns home safely. Chapter 8, Uncle Car After confessions on Saturdays came bath time. Then we are clean inside and outside for Sunday, Mother always said. In the old days, there had been a tub of clean water for everyone, but it took fuel to heat the water, so now they just took turns going in first. There was no soap, only a scrubbing brush and scouring powder, which scratched the skin. When they were all washed and had put on clean clothes, they sat in the living room drinking hot skim milk and discussing the possibilities of Charles's escape. Mother was making a winter coat for Trixie out of an olive green plush tablecloth. She said the color would go very well with Trixie's curls. She had to hurry because it was getting dark, there was no oil for lamps anymore, and even candles were scarce. Presently, she put her work aside, her eyes were beginning to ache, she shut the blackout curtains and lit a nightlight, which she put on the table. Trixie was already in bed, Freya began to bark, and a little later, there was a knock at the door. They all stiffened with fear. Who could that be? After curfew? Schindler's again? Father got up slowly and opened the door. Klor! He cried joyously. Come in, man! You're most welcome! Take off your white coat! Rika, it's your brother! There was a happy reunion. Mother immediately bustled about, opening some preserved meat and vegetables, which she had kept for just such an occasion. They hadn't known in the morning that the and lighting candles. The children hugged themselves. They hadn't known in the morning that a dreary, rain-washed day would hold such a treat. The room seemed suddenly full of warmth and festivity, and with Uncle Korr, too, had come into contact with the great world beyond where the war was being waged. Uncle Korr was a handsome man. He had Mother's deep blue eyes and her twinkle. His brows were finely penciled, like Mother's, and he had the same thick, curly blonde hair. There were scars on his cheek, which he would not explain. When George kept asking, he said, I fell asleep in the zoo and an eagle sat on me. Mother kept looking at him in a gloating way. Uncle Korr told her that he had given up his garage and laid in because there was no gasoline to be got. The Germans wanted him to work in Berlin, so he had to go into hiding, or drive under, as it was called. Is that all you are doing, then, just hiding? asked Mother, a little disappointed. Sure! What else would I be doing? And Uncle Korr gave a huge wink. Joris and Dirkjan nudged each other. Uncle Korr was an underground, of course, like Riena. Uncle Korr joked and laughed and told stories of the underground. Do you know Keith Kipp? asked Joris suddenly. Uncle Korr threw Joris a questioning glance. You know? The underground man who raided the police headquarters in Amsterdam? explained Joris. Er, yes, I suppose I do, Uncle Korr admitted slowly. What's he like? asked Joris and Dirkjan together. We don't discuss our leaders, said Uncle Korr. But he's very famous, isn't he? Dirkjan wanted to know. Oh, I wouldn't say that, answered slurred Uncle Korr. He has done no more than the others. What work do you do? asked Dirkjan in blush. He realized he was asking too much, but Uncle Korr answered quite simply. I help to find hiding places for underdivers and organize ways of getting allied soldiers and airmen across the border. Oh! Joris and Dirkjan were upon him like a whirlwind. Then you can help Charles, they told him about their aviator. And Uncle Korr was gratifyingly impressed. Well done, he said. That is important work. We must certainly get Charles out of the country. But if Schinderhans is looking for him, no time must be lost. We should go over right away while it's dark and bring him here. That mill is an obvious place for Schinderhans to look. Charles has a gun, said Joris, and he has a hiding place in the attic under a heap of old sails. Yes, but it isn't safe there. He is better off here, especially as Schinderhans has already been here. Besides, he'll need all sorts of things to dress him up. Mother and Father realized that Uncle Korr was right. What shall we do, then? Fetch him in the boat? asked Father. That might be a good idea. We can hide his uniform under a coat. So it was decided. Father couldn't leave because the mill was working. So the boys would go with Uncle Korr to fetch Charles. Uncle Korr and Dirkjan would row him home. Joris would stay behind to clean up and remove any traces of the aviator. But it's dark, said Joris. I have a flashlight, said Uncle Korr. Be careful with it, though. Wouldn't it be better if Dirkjan stayed behind? asked Mother, anxiously. No. They'll have to row, said Uncle Korr. I'm not an expert with the oars, and we have to go as quickly and quietly as possible. Besides, Joris is only a child. If he is caught, the Germans probably won't shoot him. Shoot him! Mother's eyes widened with horror. Well, that's the sort of thing we're risking, helping Charles. Don't you realize that? Uncle Korr said impatiently. Mother fell silent. She had realized it. As a remote possibility, not as a solid fact. Her brother saw people being punished for this work every day, of course. For him, these dangers were as actual as the flowerpots on the windowsill. I see, she sighed. But can't Joris come with you in the boat? Her youngest boy was still a baby to her. Look, said Uncle Korr. You must trust me. I know what I'm doing. It's essential that we are quick about removing Charles and slow about leaving no clues. I've seen tragedies resulting from a little oversight. What's the matter, Mother? Joris asked. I made that trip alone twice last night. I didn't know about it, muttered Mother. But she gave up. It was wonderful to have Uncle Korr. He knew exactly what to do. They all put on dark coats and took Father's overcoat to cover Charles' uniform. Mother said she'd make up beds for Uncle Korr and Charles in the attic. But she didn't know what to do. Mother said she'd make up beds for Uncle Korr and Charles in the attic. It was a much more frightening journey this time than it had been before. There was no moon, only wind and rain. And they knew Schindler Hans was on the prowl looking for the missing aviator. Dirk Jan was a skilful rower. They glided swiftly and silently along the canals of the old mill. Joris and Dirk Jan fetched Charles. They explained what was happening and gave him Father's coat to put on. Then Dirk Jan and Charles hurried to the boat. Joris stayed behind watching the boat disappear in the night. He returned to the mill where he moved his flashlight around, shading it with his hands. The cat wound herself around his ankles, mewing. It was comforting not to be alone. Ah, there, he had found something. A piece of the aviator's map with English lettering on it. If the Germans had seen that! He also found a brass button and put both in his pocket. He searched elsewhere but found nothing. As he went out, he carefully shut the door. Joris's thin coat was soon drenched. The flashlight in his pocket bumped against his thigh as he walked. Squelch, squelch. On his clogs. Rain trickled down his nose. He was thinking only of the misery of wetness when a voice sounded suddenly behind him. Halt! Who is there? Who is there after curfew? Bleh! Leaned at Schinderhans. Joris didn't think twice. He kicked his clogs into the bushes and ran. Schinderhans could not see well enough to shoot, but he began to run, too, and saw that they were going in the direction of the watchmen. He also saw that it was only a boy he was pursuing, not a man. One of the Verhagen kids, I suppose, he muttered. Wait till I catch him! There! There! The thought gave extra energy to his legs. Joris was running as fast as his lungs would let him, and thinking furiously, he must not let Schinderhans find out who he was. He had to get home, and yet Liendert must not see him go in. If he was captured, all was up with that piece of aviator's map in his pocket. The watchmen. The watchmen! Joris looked at it in despair. Winged watchmen! Guardian angel! His breath came in wheezy gasps. He heard Schinderhans' footsteps coming closer. Soon, he would not be able to run anymore. There was a stitch in his side. Then he saw he was near the moving wings of the mill, dark and vague, but unmistakable. He grabbed one of them and jumped on it, melting into its shadow. He had to move fast to keep his head up, as the wing carried him higher and higher, far out of the reach of his pursuer. Joris felt a momentary exhilaration, but he hadn't time to think about it. He had to keep changing his position. A wrong move might send him plummeting to the ground with a broken neck, but that danger seemed nothing compared to the thought of Schinderhans. He had to hold tight to the slippery, wet gates as he moved, for he felt wind gusts tugging at him, slapping the rain about his ears. Slowly, the wing was going down again. Down, down, down. Schinderhans was no longer there. He had gone around the mill to the other side. Joris let go and stood for a moment, feeling the earth turn around him. Then he flattened himself against the wall and inched his way to the door behind the moving wings. He felt them whistling past him, narrowly missing him, but he was able to reach the door, lift the latch, and slip inside, into the safety of his home. He rushed into the living room, where Mother, Father, Charles, and Uncle Kor were chatting. Dirk-Chan had already gone to bed. Schinderhans, he gasped. Freya started to bark at the same moment. Uncle Kor and Charles sneaked upstairs, and Mother helped strip Joris of his clothes, drying his hair with her apron. Then he climbed over Dirk-Chan, jumping naked under the covers. Mother hurried to the kitchen with his wet clothes. All this took so little time that when Father opened the door to Schinderhans, all evidence of Joris's entry had vanished. I have to report one of your boys. He's out after thirteen days. Schinderhans growled. Impossible, Father answered. Both boys are peaceful and undead. I don't believe it, insisted Laintert. I've just been chasing one all over the place. There's Dirk! Ah, you must be mistaken, said Father. See for yourself, but be quiet. Don't wake them. He led the way into the living room. Joris lay motionless against the wall, his eyes closed. Beside him, Dirk-Chan was snoring convincingly. Laintert stared. He put out his hand and felt Dirk-Chan's hair. It was dry. That could have sworn. He said. It's dark, explained Father. One little rascal looks much like another. You'd better find out who it was. Boys have no business being out at this time. Schinderhans was thinking hard with his dummy little brain. He knew there had been no time for the boy to have gone around to the mill ahead of him and gotten into bed all dry. No, he had just vanished. In the ditch, perhaps? Was he outside now, mocking Laintert? With a muffled curse, Laintert rushed out of the mill, leaving Father to shut the door and bolt it. Phew, said Father. Dirk-Chan had encouraged to invite Laintert into the house with two underdivers in the attic. But apparently he had disarmed Laintert's suspicions. Joris lay shaking and shivering in bed. When he thought of the dangers he had escaped, his teeth chattered. Presently, he heard his father and mother come into the room, and Uncle Kor with him. What happened, they asked. Dirk-Chan was sitting up now. He had been awake all the time. Joris sat up too. Mother wrapped a blanket around his shoulders. When he came to the part where he had got onto the mill wing, Mother gahed, grabbed Father in fright. And when she heard how Joris had squeezed past the wings into the north door, Mother clapped her tongue and went to fetch hot milk for him. She fussed about him like a worried mother hen. Uncle Kor looked at Joris with an admiring glint in his eyes. It'll do, he remarked before going upstairs. Boy, you must have been scared, said Dirk-Chan admiringly. Mother tucked him in. Now go to sleep, she said, blowing out the candles. Father was the last to say goodnight. My plucky boy, he murmured, putting his head on Joris's damp head. Joris went to sleep happily.