by Renee Duke
Jack was still asleep when Paige, Dane, and Uncle Trevor joined the Altmeyers for breakfast at half past eight. At half past nine, Herr Reitzel drove up in Onkel Gottfried’s old car.
“Gottfried and Marta are safely away, then?” Herr Altmeyer inquired.
“They are,” Herr Reitzel replied. “Would the older children like to come with us, Herr Hastings? My mother-in-law will take good care of Jack, and it would be better for them than sitting by his bedside, worrying.”
Uncle Trevor looked inquiringly at Paige and Dane, who both nodded.
“Gut,” said Herr Reitzel. “I have coats for them in the back of the car. I understand theirs were lost. Along with the rest of your clothing.”
“Yes. I’m going to have to go shopping later.”
“That will not be necessary. I am much the same size as you, and Frieda and Gustav have outgrown things that will fit the children.”
“What would you have used for money if you’d gone shopping?” Paige asked in a whisper as they made their way to the car.
“The era-appropriate dosh I very sensibly left in the era-appropriate wallet I very sensibly left in the era-appropriate suitcase I left with Herr Altmeyer. I was very relieved when he said he still had it.”
Half an hour later, they were in the countryside. Herr Reitzel had told them the Brases were staying with a friendly farmer, but when he pulled up in front of the farmhouse there were no Gypsy caravans in the yard or anywhere nearby.
Herr Reitzel got out of the car and went to speak to the farmer.
“They moved on two days ago,” he told them upon his return. “Not because of trouble, but because they received a message and left to meet Kezia’s brother, James Delomar.”
“Any idea where?”
“A small Austrian town just across the border, but the distance is such that they are likely to still be on the road. Horse-drawn caravans do not move as fast as motor vehicles. We will drive that way and see if we can overtake them.”
Close to the Austrian border, a strange feeling came over Dane. They had come to a crossroads and Herr Reitzel was about to turn left.
“No, Herr Reitzel. Not that way. Turn the other way. Please.”
“The border is—”
“I can’t explain it,” said Dane. “The Brases are near. Very near. But they didn’t go left. They went right.”
Herr Reitzel looked at Uncle Trevor and raised his eyebrows.
Uncle Trevor tried to make light of it. “Clairvoyant instructions, perhaps? Little Rosa is supposed to ‘know’ things. Maybe she knows we’re following them and is making us aware of a change in course.”
“I think you jest, Herr Hastings. But she is an unusually perceptive child. Just before our Hindenburg tickets were stolen, she told my wife her apprehensions were unnecessary because we would be going to America by sea, not air.” He shrugged. “I suppose it would do no harm to turn right and travel in that direction for a few miles.”
As soon as they rounded the first bend, they saw the Brase family’s caravans at the side of the road next to a snow-covered meadow. Herr Reitzel pulled up behind them and he and Uncle Trevor went to talk to Nicko’s father and some of the other grown-ups standing by the large lead caravan. Nicko, his brother, Delo, and sisters, Nadya and Rosa were by the caravan Onkel Othi had for his ‘friends’. Paige and Dane got out of the car and hurried to over to them.
Now fourteen, Nicko towered over Dane, and his voice had broken.
“Onkel Othi and my grandmother will do all they can for Jack,” he said after they explained why they had come. “You were lucky to find us. We move often now. Even though it is winter.”
“The guy whose farm you stayed at told us where you’d gone,” said Paige. “But back at the crossroads, Dane somehow knew you’d turned right instead of left like Herr Reitzel was expecting.”
“We turned because my Uncle Jimmy is in the next town. That was not supposed to be our meeting place, so something must have happened to make him change it. He might have been turned away at the border or expelled from Austria once he was there. He left signs so we would know where to look for him.”
“We didn’t see any sign by the crossroads,” said Paige.
“You are not Gypsies. But it’s a good thing we came this way. If we hadn’t, we wouldn’t have found the bird.”
“What bird?”
“He was flapping about in the snow over in the meadow. I thought it would take several of us to catch him, but when I approached, he came to me.”
“Where is he now?” asked Dane.
“Inside the caravan.”
He opened the door.
“An eagle!” Paige exclaimed, staring at a golden eagle perched atop a wooden trunk.
“Not just any eagle,” said Dane. “Our eagle. He was the one who brought us here. He knew Jack was hurt, and he knew Onkel Othi and Old Zigana could help him.”
Chapter Fifteen
Paige stared at him. “You’re saying this is the eagle from Skookaweethp’s time?”
“And others. He’s turned up every time we’ve been in trouble or haven’t been certain of something. To warn, like just before the inn ambush and the lightning strike, or to reassure, like with the Meadowbrooks.” Seeing the other children’s mystified looks, he quickly added. “Spirit creatures are part of our country’s culture. Its First Nation culture. Indian culture, I guess you guys would call it. They believe people have specific birds or animals that watch over them. We have some native blood and think our spirit creature is an eagle.”
“You do not look as though you have native blood,” said Delo. “But if you do, I suggest you keep quiet about it. Only pure Aryan blood is welcome in Germany.”
“Yeah, we heard the Nazis had stepped up their persecution of Gypsies, Jews, and a bunch of other people,” said Paige. “I guess that’s why you move around a lot now.”
“And to find work,” said Delo, “Despite what the Nazis say, we are not ‘work-shy’. It is more that people will no longer hire us, or buy our goods.”
Just then Uncle Trevor called for Paige and Dane to return to the car.
“Gunter is leery of Othi and Zigana going into Munich in broad daylight,” he told them. “I can’t say I blame him, but it means we’ll have to bring Jack to them. They expect to catch up to Kezia’s brother in the next town. Do you want to come back to Munich with me and Herr Reitzel, or stay with the Brases?”
“Stay with us,” Rosa urged. “He wants you to.” She nodded toward the eagle.
“We’ll stay,” said Dane, who felt reassured by its presence.
Delo suggested the two of them ride to the next town on the front seat of the animal caravan, while he and Nicko walked beside it.
“Gadje tire easily,” he explained.
“If you can walk, boy, so can we,” Paige declared.
“What’s wrong with the eagle?” Dane asked Nicko as they tramped briskly along.
“Some of his feathers have been singed. He can fly a little, but not well. I will keep him until he molts off the damaged feathers and grows new ones. Onkel Othi says, with an eagle, that could take months. Possibly over a year.”
Singed feathers. In Skookaweethp’s time, a protective circle had shielded Dane, Paige, and Jack from the energy bolts Khatcheres had thrown at them. But the eagle had been flying high above them, beyond the circle’s range.
I suppose it might have been struck, Paige said to herself. But that was thousands of years ago. It can’t be the same bird. Although…if we can travel through time, why couldn’t it? We have seen golden eagles in every era we’ve visited.
“If we had some loose eagle feathers, Onkel Othi knows how to clip off old feathers and implant new ones,” Nicko went on. “Perhaps in the spring, we can find some. Then he would be able to fly properly again, and we could set him free sooner.”
Just outside the town, Nicko’s father called for the caravans to halt and walked into town to seek his English brother-in-law.
> “Did he see another sign that told him your uncle was actually in the town?” Paige asked Nicko.
“Yes.”
“What kind of sign?”
“That is not for gadje to know. Even good gadje.”
Paige and Dane helped Nicko and some of the other children gather wood for a fire, which Nicko soon had blazing. His mother and eldest sister brought out cooking utensils and made a stew. While they worked, the twin girls watched the youngest children, Lena’s little girl, Zensi, and Ambros, known as Brosi, the baby brother who had so enchanted people at the Marienplatz. Now two, he was still an engaging child with dark curls and a ready smile. His laughter was infectious as Ava and eight-year-old Nadya played some kind of clapping game with him.
But the scene did not bring pleasure to everyone. Nicko’s cousin and elder brother watched Nadya, Zensi, and Brosi with sadness until, abruptly, Drogo turned away and marched off into the woods. Vester stayed a few moments, then followed.
“Watching the little ones sometimes makes them think of the children they will not have,” Nicko’s mother explained to Paige and Dane. “Two years ago, they were in Berlin with Gunter, Philo, and Poldi when the Nazis took them and…and made it so they couldn’t.”
“The others, too?” Paige asked.
Nicko’s mother nodded. “Zensi will be Lena’s only child, and Brosi the last of mine. But at least Gunter and I have several children. As does Poldi, who also has two daughters and another son, all, as yet, unmutilated. Vester and Drogo have been denied that kind of happiness. It’s hard for Lena and Philo, too. They’re still so young, and wanted more babies.”
“That’s awful,” said Paige. “You should get out of Germany before that happens to Nicko, or Rosa, or any of the others. Go to some other country. Preferably one outside of Europe.”
“Such as the land of my birth? I suspect that’s why my brother’s come. To persuade us to go back to England with him.”
“You should.”
“And I would. But the same can’t be said for Poldi and Othi. Poldi’s a resourceful sort, but I doubt Zigana would leave Othi to the mercies of the Nazis. Nor would Gunter and I leave her.”
“You’ve got to try and talk them into it,” said Dane.
“I’ll try, but I doubt I’ll succeed. Jimmy won’t, either, even though he is, as our gadjo father used to say, ‘a right charmer’.” She looked across at her youngest child. “Brosi’s a lot like him.”
About half an hour later, Nicko’s father returned with Uncle Jimmy. After they had eaten a share of the stew, the grown-ups and older teens stayed around the fire and spoke at length in German, with Nicko’s mother translating for his English uncle. His father and Onkel Poldi contributed a good bit to the conversation, seemingly on opposite sides. Occasionally, Onkel Othi would say something, but mostly he just reached down and patted Bruna and Fritzi from time to time.
“Doesn’t look like Uncle Jimmy’s winning them over,” Paige observed from the steps of Onkel Othi’s animal caravan, where she, Dane, Nicko, Delo, and Rosa had been checking on the eagle.
When Herr Reitzel and Uncle Trevor arrived with Jack, both Old Zigana and Onkel Othi withdrew from the debate and Paige and Dane ran to the car.
“How’s he doing?” Paige asked Uncle Trevor as Onkel Othi took Jack from him and headed toward the caravan used by Old Zigana.
“Well, he’s still in pain, but Frau Altmeyer figured he was over shock and let him have a sweet pastry. He didn’t eat much of it, though, so you know he’s out of sorts.”
He started to follow Onkel Othi and Old Zigana to the caravan, but the old woman turned and shook her head.
“She and Othi will do all that is necessary,” said Nicko’s mother, coming up behind them. “Zigana will give him something to make him sleep while Othi’s getting the bullet out. A secret concoction of her own, but safe and effective, like the salve she’ll put on the wound afterwards to stave off infection.”
“Yes, we definitely want to avoid that,” said Uncle Trevor, well aware that infected wounds had often proved fatal in the days before antibiotics came into general use.
“Join us,” Nicko’s mother went on, waving toward the assembled adults. “You and Herr Reitzel can add your voices to my brother’s. He wants us to go back to England with him but isn’t finding many takers. Poldi and some of the others think he’s exaggerating the benefits. Othi’s just being stubborn because he doesn’t want to have his animals taken off him.”
“England’s quarantine laws are very strict. But he’d get them back after six months.”
“To Othi, that would be an eternity.”
When Uncle Trevor and Herr Reitzel joined the adults at the fire, Paige and Dane re-joined Nicko, Delo, and Rosa at the animal caravan.
“What do you guys think about going to England?” Dane asked.
“I’d like to,” said Delo. “Our mother often talks about her homeland.”
“Gypsies have no homeland,” Nicko retorted. “But that doesn’t mean we should let ourselves be driven out of the one we live in.”
“It wouldn’t be forever,” said Dane. “Just for a few years maybe, until it was safe to come back. Really horrible things could happen if you stay.”
Nicko scowled. “They already have. Drogo says, now that he and our other men have been damaged, what more can the Nazis do to them?”
“There’s a lot more they could do,” said Paige. “And will.”
Eleven-year-old Rosa looked desolate, as though the horrors to come had already passed before her inner eye. “That is what I have said.”
“Then why aren’t they listening to you? They usually do.”
“But not always. They didn’t for Berlin, and won’t now, either. We will just have to survive as best we can. Some things must be as they will be.”
“Do you…do you know exactly how they will be?”
“No. Only that there will be a terrible porajmos, a great devouring of our people. At the end of it, not many will be left.”
“All the more reason for you guys to get out of Germany while you can,” Paige persisted. “Even if not everyone wants to leave, some of you could go.”
“No,” said Nicko. “We are a family. We stay together.”
When Onkel Othi came out of the caravan, Uncle Trevor hurried over to see how things had gone.
Reporting back to Paige and Dane he said, “The bullet’s out and Othi’s says the arm should heal nicely. He gave me a pot of Zigana’s salve and some liquid stuff to help with any residual pain. Jack’s still out cold, so we’d better get him back to the guesthouse before he wakes up and requires some.”
Onkel Othi brought Jack out to the car sporting a fresh bandage and sling, and settled him between Paige and Dane. The entire Brase family waved good-bye and called out good wishes.
“Such good people,” Herr Reitzel said as they drove off. “I have invited them to join us at Gasthaus Altmeyer on Christmas Day. My father-in-law thinks even the Nazis will not be hounding anyone too zealously on Christmas Day. Or, Julfest, as we are now supposed to call it. Herr Hitler wants more emphasis placed on our pre-Christian roots and would have us return to the winter solstice celebrations of our Nordic ancestors.”
“Hitler doesn’t like Christmas?” Paige queried. “Why? Does it make people too happy?”
Herr Reitzel laughed. “That, too, possibly. But more because it is such a beloved religious festival. Much too beloved for it to be successfully banned, so, instead, the Nazis just try to discourage religious observance. New Christmas carols have been written that contain no religious references whatsoever, and old ones rewritten so that they do not contain them either. But the Nazification of religion is not just for Christmastime. Two years ago, a national ‘church’ was created. The Reich Church. Its churches have a sword and swastika instead of a cross, and Mein Kampf instead of the Bible. Even regular churches have come under Nazi influence. The Führer’s portrait hangs as prominently in them as it does in schools, a
not so subtle suggestion to the young that they should be worshipping Hitler instead of God.”
“I heard about that’,” said Uncle Trevor. “And about Catholic priests and Protestant pastors being placed under arrest for speaking out against the Nazis.”
“What about Father Gervas?” Dane asked, worried.
“As yet, he has escaped notice. His friend, SisterMaria Innocentia, has not been so lucky. Though still allowed to pursue her art, her drawings and figurines can no longer be sold in Germany.”
“Her ‘Volunteers’ painting and plea for peace didn’t go over well, then,” said Paige.
“It did not. Neither did her pictures of angels with the Jewish Star of David on their gowns. Or the cross with a menorah she puts in some of her designs. Any hint that Christianity is connected to Judaism is frowned on by the Nazis. But most people still have strong religious beliefs. Herr Hitler’s attempts to have us embrace the Nazi version of Christmas have found little genuine support. Only the most ardent Nazis place swastikas atop their Christmas trees. Gottfried, for example.”
“So you’re not letting Marta put one on top of yours?” Paige teased.
“No. There are limits to our perceived acceptance of her devotion. She will have to put up with our traditional tree on Heiligabend. Christmas Eve,” he added for clarification.
When they got to Gasthaus Altmeyer, Frau Altmeyer took immediate charge of Jack, who was beginning to stir. After he had been taken upstairs, Herr Altmeyer asked Herr Reitzel if the Brases had accepted the Christmas invitation.
“Ah, sehr gut,” he said upon receiving an affirmative answer. “And you also, Herr Hastings. You and the children will stay with us for Christmas? It is but two days away and Jack should—”
“—probably not travel,” said Uncle Trevor. “I agree. I’ll go into town later and wire the family. I won’t go into detail. I’ll just say Jack’s a bit under the weather and we won’t be home for Christmas.”
“I do expect to be, however,” he said to Paige and Dane when both Herr Altmeyer and Herr Reitzel had moved out of earshot. “‘Home’, I mean. I know we run the risk of materializing right back in front of Penelope—and more importantly, Penelope’s gun—but knowing that makes it a bit less of a risk. You can all be poised to jump aside and, if I’m ready for her, I should be able to disarm her before she can re-aim. No point in going yet, though. Better to wait until Jack’s arm’s healed up enough to escape notice. Since Ophelia was with me, his mother’s sure to find out Penelope shot at him, but we’ll just have to pretend she missed. Otherwise, there will be awkward questions about why the wound isn’t fresh and bleeding.”