The Hesitant Hero

by Gilbert, Morris

  “I know. God is good.”

  “Which way do you think we should go now? We’re liable to find Germans on any of these roads.”

  The two discussed their options for a long time, tracing one possible route after another on their map. After they had come to a tentative decision, Tyler leaned back in his chair and stretched. “I guess this is a good time to find out how to trust God.” He shook his head, and wonder was on his face. “I’ve really never had to before. I’ve always depended on my family or someone else anytime I ran into trouble of any kind.”

  “You have a large family?”

  “I think I told you I only have two siblings, but I have a number of aunts and uncles and lots of cousins. The Winslows go way back. We can trace our roots to Gilbert Winslow, who was the first person in our family to settle in America.”

  “What was he like?”

  “Well, he was quite a ladies’ man in his youth, I understand from his journal, but he loved God. He left his sword to his son, and it’s been passed down through the generations. I think my father has it now. But there were lots of other Winslows.” Tyler told Jolie some of the stories his parents had told him of the Winslows who had fought in the wars in America, the men and the women who had found a way to serve God in hard times. Finally he said, “I’ve bored you enough talking about me.”

  “No, I wasn’t bored,” she said quietly.

  “What about you?”

  “What would you like to know?”

  “Do you have other family besides your mother?”

  “Just distant cousins.”

  Tyler was restless. He got up and opened the door and gazed out into the darkness. “Do you want to go outside with me? It’s cooler out there. Or are you ready to hit the sack?”

  “I’m really not sleepy yet,” she said as she walked to the door. “I guess I’m on edge thinking about keeping the children safe.”

  The two of them went outside and stood in the yard inhaling the strong smells of the farm.

  “It’s so peaceful here,” Jolie whispered.

  “Yes, it is. Hard to think there are men dying now and women and children too. This war is terrible.”

  “I’ve been thinking, Tyler. I have a friend named Jean Clermont. We grew up together. What do you Americans call it . . . I had a ‘crush’ on him. Is that the word?”

  “That’s it. I’ve had several myself.”

  “Well, I was fifteen, and Jean was a year older. But it never came to anything.”

  “What happened?”

  “When his father died, they moved to a small town on the coast—Honfleur—and now he’s a fisherman. I’ve been thinking maybe we ought to go there. If we could get there, maybe Jean could take you and the children across the Channel to England.”

  “There’s an idea. It’s a long way, though, and it wouldn’t be easy. Do you think he’d be willing to put himself in that kind of peril for us?”

  “It’s hard to say, but I think it’s worth a try. What do you think? In all honesty. Do you think you’ll make it, really?”

  As she looked up expectantly at him, waiting for his answer, he couldn’t help but notice how lovely she looked as the moonlight bathed her face with its soft silver. Her dark hair was pulled together at the back, which accentuated her smooth neck and slender figure.

  He tried with some difficulty to get his mind back on their travel plans. “We’ll make it,” he said, “somehow.” A restless desire was stirring in him now, and he said, “Have you ever been in love, Jolie?”

  Startled, she looked at him, her lips parted, and she smiled. “I’ve always been attracted to men who were strong—physically, I mean—but he’d have to be more than that. I went with a man named Jacques for a while. He was strong and could lift heavier weights than anyone else in our village. But”—she shrugged—”he was one of the most boring men I’ve ever known.”

  “Maybe you could marry two men. A strong man to do all the heavy work and a witty one to keep you amused.”

  “Don’t be silly.” She laughed and put her hands on her hips.

  A recklessness came over Tyler, and knowing he would regret it, he reached out and pulled her to him. To his surprise, she didn’t pull away. He lowered his head and kissed her. She stood unmoving, her lips soft beneath his own, and he waited for her to pull away. But she did not, and he felt her respond to his embrace.

  And then suddenly she did pull away. “That was a mistake.”

  “For you, maybe.”

  “For you too.”

  “Why do you say that?” he asked.

  “We were amused at what Damien said about our getting married and adopting them all, but that could never be.”

  “And why not?”

  “We’re too different, Tyler. We’ve been through all this before.” She shook her head. “We’d better be up early in the morning. Good night.”

  Tyler wandered aimlessly outside as she returned to the house. A bird flew overhead, throwing its shadow over Tyler. He glanced up quickly and saw the owl sail across the clear sky and then disappear into the trees.

  “Good hunting,” Tyler said before turning to go inside the house.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  A Horse Named Crazy

  The horse that the Duviviers had loaned to Tyler and Jolie was a strange-looking creature. It was tall and rawboned with a multicolored design that Tyler had never seen before. It reminded Tyler a great deal of a quilt that had come down to him from his grandmother, and he had started calling the horse Crazy Quilt. Rochelle and Yolande, after being informed of the origin of the title, were delighted with it, but they shortened the name of the horse to Crazy. Damien wanted to call it One Eye, for obvious reasons, but he was overruled by Yolande and Rochelle.

  “We make a pretty odd-looking parade, don’t we, Jolie?” Tyler asked. He and Jolie were sitting at the front of the wagon with Yolande and the baby in the back. Rochelle and Damien were walking alongside the wagon, finding it easy to keep up with Crazy’s leisurely pace. The dust was thick and the lack of rain had made it so fine that the breeze lifted it in a cloud behind them.

  Jolie shook her head. “The horse seems strong enough, but it certainly is a queer-looking animal.”

  “We were lucky to get it. I hope it holds out until we get to the coast.”

  “I think it will. Let’s hope so, anyway.”

  “It reminds me of an English teacher I had in high school,” Tyler said.

  “An English teacher!” Jolie cocked her head. “How could a weird-looking animal like that remind you of an English teacher?”

  “She was tall and lanky and wore clothes that didn’t match. I think she was color-blind. She would come to school one day with a purple skirt and an orange blouse, and the next day with a pink skirt and green blouse. I don’t think she could see the difference.”

  They stopped at noon to have a meal, and afterward they traded places with Rochelle and Damien and let Rochelle drive the horse. She was nervous about driving the horse at first, but Tyler laughed and reassured her, “Don’t worry. He’s not going to run away with you. I don’t think he’s capable of such a thing.”

  Before long Damien insisted on having a turn, and no matter how much the children shouted or slapped the reins, Crazy never varied his pace.

  “I think he’s a one-speed horse,” Jolie said with a smile. “Just what we need for this trip.”

  As the day went by, they saw very little civilian traffic and no military vehicles. As the sun started dropping, they reached a creek that meandered across the road. “I think we’d better camp here for the night,” Tyler said.

  “Can’t we go on to a village?” Jolie asked. “It would be good if we could buy some food.”

  “I don’t think it would be a good idea. Look, we can pull the wagon off over there behind those trees.” The banks of the creek were crowded with tall poplar trees. “They’re so thick no one will ever know we’re there.”

  “I guess you’re right,�
�� she said. “We can buy food if we encounter a farmer along the way tomorrow.”

  Tyler jumped up into the wagon and drove Crazy down alongside the bank. He chose a spot that was well shaded by the tall trees. The water of the creek caught the angled sun and made a pleasant sound as it bubbled over the stones.

  Tyler unhitched Crazy from the wagon and took him to a grassy spot, anchoring the horse with a long rope to a tree, not that Crazy seemed to have any inclinations to run off. He patted the horse on the neck, muttering, “I guess you’ve got all the responsibility of getting us out of this, boy.”

  There was plenty of deadwood nearby, so by the time the sun had set, Tyler had built a fire. Jolie gave the baby a bottle while the children looked for thin sticks to roast some meat. Fortunately, Madame Duvivier had given them several more cans of milk, so they had enough for the time being.

  The farmer had given them some chunks of beef, which they roasted on the sticks that the children had gathered. The beef was tasty, even though the children had some difficulty cooking it without burning it. As Tyler sat on the ground gnawing on a piece of the beef, he remarked to Jolie, “This is just like when I was in the Boy Scouts on an overnight camp-out, except I’m a little farther from home.”

  “It is nice, isn’t it?” She looked up at the stars. “It’s hard to believe that right now there are men lying on battlefields crying out in pain from their wounds and even dying. It’s hard to think about awful things like that, but I suppose we have to face reality.”

  “I guess all things are relative. We’re here and we’re safe, for today at least. My folks always said if you had something to eat and a place to stay, you should never complain.”

  They sat there talking quietly, and finally Jolie said, “I’d like to read a little from the Bible if it’s all right with everyone. I think if we keep the fire big enough, I’ll be able to see just fine.”

  The children all gathered around, Marie on Rochelle’s lap, while Tyler put another log on the fire and Jolie opened the Bible. Tyler sat back against a tree, his legs crossed, and watched the children, who looked eager to listen.

  “Now a certain man was sick, named Lazarus, of Bethany, the town of Mary and her sister Martha.

  “(It was that Mary which anointed the Lord with ointment, and wiped his feet with her hair, whose brother Lazarus was sick.)

  “Therefore his sisters sent unto him, saying, Lord, behold, he whom thou lovest is sick.

  “When Jesus heard that, he said, This sickness is not unto death, but for the glory of God, that the Son of God might be glorified thereby.

  “Now Jesus loved Martha, and her sister, and Lazarus.

  “When he had heard therefore that he was sick, he abode two days still in the same place—”

  Damien piped up, “If He knew His friend was sick, why did He wait for three days? I would have gone right then!”

  Jolie took her eyes off the Bible and said, “I think He wanted to show everyone that He was the Son of God. Just listen to the rest of the story.” She continued to read the story, telling of how Jesus went to Judea, where Lazarus was.

  “Jesus therefore again groaning in himself cometh to the grave. It was a cave, and a stone lay upon it.

  “Jesus said, Take ye away the stone. Martha, the sister of him that was dead, saith unto him, Lord, by this time he stinketh: for he hath been dead four days.

  “Jesus saith unto her, Said I not unto thee, that, if thou wouldest believe, thou shouldest see the glory of God?

  “Then they took away the stone—”

  “But He was dead!” Rochelle whispered. “Why did Jesus tell them to do that?”

  “Because He was ready to do what He’d come to do,” Jolie said. “Now, listen to the rest of the story.”

  “He cried with a loud voice, Lazarus, come forth.

  “And he that was dead came forth, bound hand and foot with graveclothes: and his face was bound about with a napkin. Jesus saith unto them, Loose him, and let him go.”

  Jolie looked around at the children, her face alight. “Isn’t that a wonderful story?”

  “Is it true?” Rochelle asked doubtfully. “I never heard of anyone who was dead coming back to life.”

  “It’s all true, but, of course, Jesus is God, and He can do things that the rest of us can’t do.”

  “I have a Bible,” Rochelle said, “but it’s different from yours.”

  “Do you? Could I see it?” Jolie asked.

  Rochelle got up and passed the baby to Jolie, then went to the wagon. She opened one of the suitcases, rummaged around in it, and came back with a book in her hand. She handed it to Jolie and said, “I don’t think you can read it.”

  Jolie opened it and then looked up and smiled. “It’s in Hebrew, isn’t it?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, I can’t read it, of course. Will you read some of it to us?”

  “But you won’t understand it.”

  “I know, but I would love to hear what Hebrew sounds like. I’ve always wished that I could read Hebrew.”

  Rochelle took the Bible and began to read. Tyler sat there listening, entranced by the unusual sounds. He understood not one word of it, but as the firelight flickered on the face of the young girl, he saw the beauty of womanhood that lay ahead for her and wondered what her future would be.

  “Why don’t you translate it for us,” Jolie said.

  “You mean tell you what it means?”

  “Yes. Could you do that?”

  “Oh yes. This is the story of the prophet Elijah. . . .” She went on to tell the story of Elijah, who had challenged the prophets of Baal and in the end had been victorious.

  “That’s a strong story,” Tyler said. “That Elijah was some man, wasn’t he?”

  “He sure was!” Damien said, his face beaming. “I want to be just like him when I grow up. I’d like to call fire down on the Germans and burn ’em up!”

  Tyler had to smile at this bombastic statement, but he was more interested in watching Jolie as she cuddled the baby. It made a pretty scene, and he pondered again Jolie’s rare combination of beauty and strength. The firelight brought out her fine eyes, and her lips were broad and maternal as she leaned over and kissed Marie. Glancing around the small circle, he thought of how strange it was that he was at this place at this time. His life had taken a turn he would never have expected, and he suddenly realized that he could never again be the man he’d once been.

  The full moon rose, and there was much chatter and laughter around the fire. Marie was getting restless in Jolie’s arms, and before long her occasional pouts turned to outright cries. No amount of cuddling or cooing or jiggling would help.

  “I guess we’ll just have to let her cry,” Jolie told Tyler. “That seems to be what she wants to do.”

  “Do you think it’s serious?”

  “No, I don’t think so. She may just have some gas, something simple like that. She doesn’t seem to have a fever. Hard to know about babies. You can’t know how they’re hurting, and there’s no way they can tell you.”

  “Do you want me to hold her so you can go to bed?”

  “No, you go ahead and sleep, Tyler. I’ll walk with her a bit and see if that helps.”

  Tyler got the children settled in the wagon and then curled up on the ground with a blanket. He was more fatigued than he had realized and quickly dropped off to sleep. When he woke once some time later, he saw that Jolie and Marie were both asleep on the ground near the fire. She’s some woman, he thought. I’ve never known anyone like her.

  ****

  They traveled steadily the next day, and Tyler estimated they had covered about fifteen kilometers. Crazy set the pace, and there was no hurrying him, but on the other hand, he never seemed to slow down.

  In the middle of the afternoon, Tyler looked at the map and then peered up ahead. “It looks like a town up there. It must be Orléans.”

  “Do you think we should go in?” Jolie asked. “We’re going to need some
more milk for Marie pretty soon.”

  “I think it’s too risky, don’t you?”

  “Maybe I should just go in alone. You and the kids find a good place to camp off the road. I can go in and be back in a couple of hours at the most.” She gave him a bright smile, adding, “I’ll be all right, Tyler.”

  Tyler did not like it, but he didn’t see that they had much choice, so he nodded. “But don’t be too long.”

  ****

  Orléans was a medium-sized town, larger than many they had passed through, and Jolie easily found what she needed: fresh milk for Marie, and some fresh cheese, bread, and fruit for the rest of them. Then she spotted a drugstore and thought to stock up on some medical supplies, such as aspirin, ointment, and bandages, in case they might not be available later on.

  The druggist smiled at her. He was a tall man with a full head of silver hair and kind eyes. “Are you getting ready to start a hospital, mademoiselle?”

  “Oh no, just making sure I have plenty of supplies. You know how difficult it is when you run out of supplies.”

  “That’s a good thing,” he said as he nodded. “These are hard times—very difficult. We don’t know what will happen next.”

  “What’s the latest news?”

  “It’s always the same. The Germans are coming on faster than I could have believed. They will be here any day now.” He shook his head sadly. “It’s a sad day for France, indeed it is.”

  Jolie left the drugstore, and even as she stepped out the door, she heard the rumble of trucks. A convoy of trucks open to the sky and filled with German soldiers was coming down the street. She stepped back and stared at them.

  The column stopped and a handsome officer leaped to the ground from the lead truck. He barked out some commands, and the soldiers began to disembark. From the little German she knew, she understood that he had said they would have a break. She started to walk away, but she was not quick enough. The officer came directly to her and stood before her smiling.