Come from Away

by Genevieve Graham

  Grace’s mouth gaped, and she saw her parents sit up with alarm.

  “Now son,” Danny said, “I don’t think—”

  “And just like Rudi,” Norman carried on, “I never meant to be. After they pulled me out of Dieppe, they laid us out in the medic tent. I heard the doctor saying he wasn’t sure my head was messed up enough that I should go home, but that I needed some looking at. But that kind of mess meant they’d put me in a special hospital first, see if they could fix me, and I’d heard stories about the kinds of things they did to men like me. I was almost as scared of that as I was of the Germans.”

  Norman’s eyes had lost their focus again, and Grace could only imagine what he saw.

  “While the medics were figuring out what to do with us, me and the guy in the next cot were talking. Well, I guess that’s what you could call it, anyway. He wasn’t making much sense.” He leaned towards Danny just a little. “He was worse off than me, but it was the same kind of problem. It was all in his head, you know? When he talked, it was like he was having trouble figuring out how, but I did understand him when he said he’d never had a headache like that one. Felt like it was right behind his eye. One of his eyelids drooped, so it was almost like I could see his headache in a way. Poor fellow kept getting sick. I heard one of the medics saying it was an aneurysm.” He flinched slightly, as if he could see it all over again. “He was on his way home. God, I wished I was him. I’d have happily taken on that headache and given both my legs to get outta there. Anyway, there was a hell of a lot of confusion going on in the tent, so much yelling, and I guess they didn’t get to him in time because he died an hour or so later. Never even made a sound. All I could think was that the poor sucker didn’t get to go home after all, and then I guess . . . well, I saw an opening. When no one was looking, I switched dog tags with him. I had no idea if it’d work, and I was so scared they’d come back and charge me with something, but I guess maybe they thought they were the ones who had mixed things up, because they took his body away, and they sent me home.” He threw his hands up. “I did it. I was out. I was free.”

  He paused, then he stared down at his fingers as they returned to their new habit of picking at invisible dirt. “Except when I got off the ship in Halifax, ready to come home, I couldn’t do it. I . . . couldn’t face my own family.” His voice cracked. “I dropped the other guy’s tags in the garbage and became a nobody.”

  Grace’s heart broke for her poor, lost brother, and tears streamed down her mother’s cheeks. The idea that he’d been afraid to come home was the worst of all. From across the room she noticed Rudi’s stricken face, and everything came together for her. She knew her men. Norman, Harry, Eugene, her father, and yes, Rudi, were strong, courageous fighters, ready to stand up to the worst violence the war could hurl at them, to defend their country and freedom the only way they knew how. Out there, she thought, their bodies were constantly in danger, but the most terrible damage, the pain no one warned them about, was to their minds and souls. And no medicine could heal that.

  “We’re all put in this world for one lifetime,” Norman said. “You taught me that, Dad. We do with it what we can. I guess the plan is to do something good, or at least to be happy.” He inclined his head towards their mother. “You taught me that part, Maman. Then war comes along and makes that almost impossible. But Dad, you found Maman in the middle of it all. Then the Explosion happened and you found us, gave us boys a life we never would have had. None of these things were planned, but they happened.

  “Rudi didn’t plan to end up here, but he chose to do the right thing: he brought Tommy home even though he could’ve left him to die. Then he stayed here and worked hard.” He turned to Grace, showing her the wonderfully honest smile she remembered. “And Grace, it sounds like he wants to take charge of his life and do whatever he can to be with you. You gotta admit, that’s a pretty big thing.”

  When he’d finished speaking, he sat quietly, and his fingers still picked at themselves, but he seemed different now. Less like a snail in a shell. It was as if the family had witnessed the actual moment when he shed the weight of all that guilt and shame.

  She could tell Rudi was watching her, waiting for some kind of reaction, but she couldn’t look at him. Not yet. She understood everything Norman had said, and she knew he was right, but she was still afraid.

  “Let me see that paper again,” her father said.

  Rudi leaned forwards and gave it to him.

  “According to this,” Danny said, “you want us to call you Adam.”

  “Adam. Yes. Adam Neumann.”

  “Adam Neumann,” he mused, rereading the paper. He passed it to his wife, and she folded it carefully before handing it back to Rudi.

  “Every family has its secrets,” Audrey said. “I can accept that one.”

  Danny put a hand on hers and squeezed gently, watching Norman, then turned to Rudi. “All right, Adam Neumann,” he said, groaning as he stood. “I guess you’d better take me to Borgles Island.”

  Adam, not Rudi. He was changing before her eyes, and the unexpected sense of loss that washed over Grace in that moment made her light-headed. Rudi was Rudi—even though he’d been so many different people in the short time she’d known him. Maybe it was easier for the others to accept this change because they saw him as a friend. But for Grace, that wasn’t enough. The others hadn’t fallen in love with him like she had. And now that he was changing, she had so many questions. Would Adam look at her the way Rudi had? What would he do now that he had a fresh chance at life? He could do anything he wanted. He might not even stay.

  But before he stood, Rudi leaned towards Grace and searched her face. And something in her melted. Maybe, just maybe, he would stay. The thought swelled in her, grew more urgent—Please stay. I want you to stay—because every day she was around him she became more convinced that she needed him.

  “I am good man, Grace. I will show you,” he said.

  For just an instant they were the only two in the room, and she wished she could cling to that feeling forever. But her family was waiting.

  His honest, blue eyes returned to the others. “Thank you, Baker family. God bless you all.”

  PART FOUR

  THIRTY-SIX

  April 1943

  Rudi—or rather, Adam—no longer hid. He worked as hard as any other man in the plant, and Grace’s father paid him accordingly. There was more energy in his step, fresh confidence in his smile, and to Grace’s delight, he often stopped by the store to visit her. He was polite and friendly to people he met, and the curious looks he received at first evolved into familiar greetings.

  Two days of pea soup fog finally washed away under a miserable, shivering rain, so when Rudi arrived at the store that afternoon he brought with him the sweet, homey smell of wet wool. Raindrops beaded his cap and coat, and his cheeks were red from the chill. Old Mrs. Gardner was on her way out as he arrived, so he held the door open for her.

  “Hello, Adam. Lovely to see you again,” she said as she left.

  “You have a nice day, Mrs. Gardner,” he replied, then he turned back to Grace. “Nice lady.”

  “She certainly is,” Grace replied, her mind still on the conversation she and Mrs. Gardner had just had. All of a sudden she had quite a lot to think about.

  “I bring footstool.”

  She barely noticed it. “Oh, thank you. It’s perfect. You can just leave it over here.”

  “You are having good day?”

  “I am.”

  He tilted his head, studying her. “Something is different.”

  Surely he couldn’t read her that well, could he? “What do you mean?”

  “I know you, Grace. Something happened.”

  As ever, his intensity both charmed and intimidated her. He was always so interested in everything she said or did. He was right, though. Something had happened, and it was more than just a distraction.

  She leaned against the counter. “Actually, I just had a really interes
ting conversation with Mrs. Gardner.”

  “Yes? You can tell me?”

  “Sure. Maybe you can help me figure out what to do.” She let out a breath. “Actually it’s bad news and good news. The bad news is that Mrs. Gardner is sick. Very sick. She says she’s dying.”

  “This is very bad news.”

  “And she has no family. No children, and her husband died a long time ago,” she said, feeling guilty. Terrible news like this shouldn’t bring her such joy. But how could she not want to celebrate? “She said she wants to leave the store to me in her will.”

  His fair eyebrows lifted. “Grace, this is wunderbar!”

  “This would be my own store.” Her thoughts were a jumble. “I still can’t believe it. I don’t even know if I can do something like that.”

  “You can. You already do this.”

  “Yes, but . . .”

  “But, Grace, this is so good news. Our life will be so happy. When we are married, you will run store and I will make it bigger and better.”

  “You are incorrigible. And before you ask, that means I can’t fix you. Why do you always say such crazy things?”

  “Because is truth.” One side of his mouth curled up in a devilish way, and he walked right up to her, put his arms around her waist before she could object. “I mean what I say, Grace. I am good man, and you are wanting to marry me.”

  She put her hands on his shoulders, grateful the store was empty in that moment. “You have a rather high opinion of yourself, don’t you?” She could tell he had no idea what she’d just said, so she made it easier. “Why would I want to marry you, Adam Neumann?”

  He’d gotten used to his new name, she thought. She wasn’t entirely comfortable with it yet, but she was getting there.

  “Many, many things,” he said. “I get money from working, I am strong, I am handsome—What? You tell me this before!”

  How could she not laugh when he said things like that? He was adorable, and the twinkle in his eyes was contagious. But it was the way he kissed her cheek that stopped her heart.

  “You are dream girl to me, Grace.” He kissed her other cheek. “I am making you love me someday.”

  She already did, but she wasn’t about to tell him that. Not yet.

  Her family was thrilled with her news about the store, and she started thinking about Rudi’s suggestions about improving it. Maybe she could build a cozy tea room off the side. In the summer maybe they could sell ice cream, maybe even get one of those milkshake machines. Oh, it could be so much fun, making the place her own.

  When she was at work the next day, everything was exactly the same as it had been before—except it was all different. The shelves, the floor, the windows . . . they would one day be hers. When the phone rang at the end of the day, she sounded like she was singing when she answered.

  “Good morning! Gardner’s General Store.”

  “Hey, little sister.”

  “Eugene! What are you doing, calling me? You coming home?”

  “Yes . . . and no. Grace, I couldn’t reach Maman and Dad. There’s been an accident—”

  Every happy thought vanished. “What?”

  “It’s Harry. He’s in the hospital.”

  They heard a gasp. Too late they both realized there was a third person on the line.

  “What is it, Eugene?” Linda demanded. “What’s wrong?”

  “Don’t worry, Linda, he’s okay. We got in a bit of a tussle with a U-boat, and he took a little shrapnel to the head.”

  “His head!”

  “Yes, but it didn’t go deep. Just added another mark of honour to that scar he’s already got. Don’t worry. He’s better looking than ever.”

  Grace turned her back to the store and leaned over the counter, head in her hand. Harry was hurt. How many of these telephone calls was she going to get? “You’re sure he’s okay, Eugene?”

  “He will be. Still unconscious, but the doctor says everything went fine in surgery—”

  “Surgery?!” Linda’s voice was shrill as a chicken’s.

  “Linda, let Eugene speak.”

  “Those damn Germans shot my Harry in the head!”

  “Linda, please. We need to be calm. What should we do, Eugene?”

  “Tell Maman and Dad to come to Halifax and meet us at Ste. Anne’s Hospital. And pack a bag. Uncle Mick says we can stay at his place for a few days while Harry recovers.”

  “I’m coming, too,” Linda interjected.

  That would make being calm impossible. “Linda, Uncle Mick doesn’t have that much room.”

  “Oh no?” she snapped. “Does he have room for your Nazi boyfriend?”

  Grace willed herself to stay cool. “Adam is not a Nazi, Linda. And I would prefer it if you didn’t speak that way.”

  But Linda was like a dog on a bone. “I know what you are doing, pretending it’s normal to have a German living there, but it’s wrong. It should be reported.”

  So much heat rushed to Grace’s head she felt light-headed. Linda hadn’t said anything about Rudi for a while, and Grace had thought she was finished with her threats. “What are you saying?”

  “You shouldn’t be protecting the enemy!”

  Eugene finally took control. “Linda, this is not the time. We need to think about Harry right now.”

  “Fine,” Linda said. “But I am not happy about this. Somebody’s going to pay for causing him pain.” Her voice cracked with emotion on the last word. “I’m sorry. I just . . . I hate this. The war is bad enough, but him being shot is the most terrible thing. Please tell Harry I love him.”

  “Of course we will, Linda.”

  As she hung up, Grace looked blankly around the shelves she’d restocked that morning. What had been exciting minutes before now meant nothing.

  She understood why Linda reacted the way she did—she loved Harry. If someone threatened Rudi, Grace would do anything to protect him, too. Now, once again, one of her brothers was hurt. Would these trials never end? Would none of them ever be able to move on from this horrible place in time? How crazy it was that she’d just been dreaming about the future, as if it could be happy! Rage pulsed from her heart to her throat until there was nothing she could do to hold it back.

  When her sobs slowed, she lifted her head off the counter and looked around, finding her anchor among the neat rows of canned vegetables and goods. Every item stood exactly where she’d put it, all lined up like soldiers. In the few minutes since Eugene had telephoned, nothing in the store had changed. She took a deep breath, appreciating that small fact. The place was untouched, unaffected by the world’s troubles, and something about that was comforting.

  Strange that such an unrelated thing could change her whole perspective, but it did. Life would go on in this village whether the war did or not, she realized. That’s just how it was, and there was nothing anyone could do about it. All she was responsible for was making sure the life she lived was a good one, that she took care of the people she loved, and that she did everything she could to ensure they were happy.

  “I can do that,” she said out loud.

  With fresh resolve, she wiped her eyes, closed the store, and headed home.

  THIRTY-SEVEN

  As arranged, Eugene and Uncle Mick met them at the hospital that evening. Grace and her mother rushed to embrace Eugene while her father shook Uncle Mick’s hand.

  “How’s my boy doing?” Danny asked.

  “He’ll be okay,” Eugene replied. “Doctor said the wound was superficial. Just needed a few stitches.”

  The door to Harry’s room opened, and the nurse appeared.

  “Are you all here to see Mr. Baker? He’s had some medicine, and he’s probably going to sleep the rest of the night. Would you like to see him anyway?”

  At the sight of Harry all wrapped up and lying still as death, both Grace and her mother caught their breath. Most of his head was swathed in clean white bandages, though they’d left his good eye uncovered. The purple, crescent-shaped bruise
underneath it was very dark, striking against his pale skin, but his chest rose and fell softly under the light blue hospital pyjamas. He was alive. Thank God.

  “The doctor wasn’t worried at all, and he’s seen thousands of men wounded,” Uncle Mick assured them, putting a companionable arm around Audrey. “I’ve seen much worse. Hell, Harry’s been worse. Remember the little fella so long ago? He’s a fighter if ever I’ve seen one.”

  “That’s true,” Audrey managed. “All my boys are fighters.”

  They were quiet, each to their own thoughts, and Harry continued to breathe, slow and easy. Grace took his hand and whispered, “We love you, Harry. And Linda does too. She’s anxious to see you.”

  “I gave the doctor my telephone number,” Mick said, “and I told my housekeeper to expect a crowd for dinner. How’s about we head up that way when you’re ready? You’ve probably forgotten how hungry you are.”

  Back at Uncle Mick’s house, Grace called Linda. Eugene stood by, listening in as Grace assured her friend that Harry was doing well and receiving the best of care. Other than that, the conversation belonged to Linda, as usual. She was furious at the entire German race for Harry being injured, and she warned them she wasn’t going to hold her tongue a minute longer. Grace winced at some of her words, tried to refute others, but there was no convincing Linda of anything. What bothered Grace the most was the way she kept talking about Rudi, as if he was the root of all the evil in the world.

  “Please don’t do anything crazy,” Grace said when Linda paused for breath. “Harry’s gonna be fine, and there’s no need to do anything to involve Adam. Think about your actions—you could ruin his life.”

  “I don’t care about his life, Grace.”

  “But I do. Don’t do anything. Promise me.”

  “I’m sorry. I can’t do that. I have to look out for me and Harry now.”

  “Oh, Eugene,” Grace said when the conversation was done and they’d both hung up. “She’s going to ruin everything.”