All Is Fair

by Dee Garretson

  Still smiling, the boy got up and pulled a coat off a peg on the wall, then went out the door as if he had been sent to fetch water.

  The sister led me down a narrow hallway lined with doors, each one opening into a small room like a cell. The wing had to be part of the original building, because it was all stone and the doorways looked as if they had been made for much shorter people. The chill from the stones seeped into the air, and I wished I could have stayed in the kitchen. The sister stopped at one door and indicated that I should go in.

  Ducking my head, I went in. The room held a narrow iron bed covered with a thin frayed blanket, and a small chest of drawers with a basin on top. A cross hung over the bed, but otherwise the room was empty of decoration.

  “I apologize for the blanket. All our better ones are used by the patients, but at least it’s not too chilly in here today.”

  “I hope I’m not putting someone out,” I said.

  “You aren’t. So many of our sisters have gone to stay at other hospitals, we have only about a third of the number we had before the war. There is plenty of room.”

  I couldn’t get over the fact that we were in a German abbey being treated like we were guests. “Sister, I don’t understand why you are helping us, and also helping the German soldiers.”

  The woman took hold of the cross she wore around her neck. “Life is so full of choices. Germany is my country, but my first responsibility is to God. I do not care who wins this war as long as it ends quickly. It is a waste and a tragedy. I prayed long hours about it and decided I must do what small bit I can to make it stop. But I will also give help to the dying.” She let go of the cross. “Get some rest and I’ll wake you after vespers.”

  After she left, I took off my shoes and lay down, pulling the thin coverlet over me. It smelled of lavender. I thought about Mr. Applewhite and our old housekeeper before Miss Tanner arguing over lavender, Mr. Applewhite saying it wasn’t suited for Lincolnshire and the housekeeper stomping around saying he should grow it anyway because she needed it to keep the sheets smelling nice. The last thing I remembered thinking before I went to sleep was how much the bees must like the lavender.

  When I woke, I could tell it was late afternoon. I washed and rebraided my hair, wishing I had both a brush and a mirror. When I went out into the hallway, there was absolute silence. Tracing my way back to the kitchen, I found it empty as well. Getting nervous, I went over to the door to the room where Lucas had slept and listened, but didn’t hear anything. Pushing open the door, I peeked in and was relieved to see Lucas there, asleep, sprawled on his back, his hair tousled and his expression untroubled.

  He didn’t stir, so I decided to let him sleep and went outside instead. It had turned out to be a beautiful day. The sun streamed across the garden under a clear sky. The silence made me feel as if the entire abbey was slumbering, keeping quiet while waiting for peacetime to return.

  I walked around looking at the gardens. As I drew closer to the church, I could hear distant sounds of singing coming from the chapel. Oscar was working among the apple trees, pruning them. He saw me approach and I raised my hand to wave to him.

  “Hello,” I said. He beckoned to me, smiling and pointing to an area beyond the beehives and then walking toward them, urging me to come along. I followed him past the cemetery to an area that looked to have been a garden in the past, now mostly given over to nature. There were bird cherries in bloom, their white flowers letting off a fragrance that scented the entire area.

  Oscar smiled again and pointed downward. There, at the base of the tree, was a garden in miniature, with tiny paths of pebbles and bits of moss growing as if it were lawn. A little house made of bark stood in the center. There was even an area made into a pond, where a chipped glass bowl had been dug in to hold water.

  “It’s wonderful! Like a fairy garden!” I said, kneeling down to examine it more closely. It was like I was Alice in the looking glass, grown huge and seeing the world made small. I knew I had to try to make one of these gardens at home. We sat for several minutes in companionable silence until Oscar touched me on the shoulder, motioning to me to go back to the abbey.

  Lucas and Sister Ann were just coming out of the kitchen when I came around the corner.

  Lucas ran to me. “Mina! Where were you? I was worried.”

  “I took a walk and found Oscar. I didn’t think I was gone that long.”

  “All is well,” the sister said, giving a small package to me. “I’ve made up a package of food for you to take. Best you go along before it’s completely dark.”

  Oscar came around the corner and looked at the bundle and then at me. He frowned.

  “Our friends need to leave,” Sister Ann told him.

  “You are a wonderful gardener,” I told him. “Thank you for showing me what you’ve done.”

  Oscar took a small, smooth gray stone out of his pocket. He held it out.

  I took it.

  “I like stones,” he said. “This one is nice and smooth, isn’t it?”

  “Thank you,” I said, not knowing what else to say. I put the stone in my pocket, trying to think of something I could give him. I had no jewelry on, and there was nothing in the coat pockets except the green ribbon. I pulled it out and handed it to Oscar.

  When Oscar took it, a huge smile crossed his face. “Thank you.”

  “That is a lovely present,” Sister Ann said.

  “We should be on our way,” Lucas said. “Thank you for your help, Sister.”

  “You’re welcome. I will pray for your safety.”

  I heard automobiles coming up the road. Two black cars with German flags on them turned into the long drive up to the abbey.

  “Go now!” the sister said. “And stay out of sight!” She made a shooing motion with her hands. The fear in her voice frightened me. Lucas took my hand and we ran. When we reached a small stand of apple trees, I stopped. “We need to read the message before we go any farther. And I want to see what’s happening at the abbey,” I said. “Sister Anne sounded so scared.”

  “They were official German cars,” Lucas said.

  “But she’s German and she takes care of German soldiers.” I looked out from behind a tree. The cars were still there. The drivers stood next to them, smoking cigarettes. “Maybe they are visiting a patient.” But I didn’t really believe that even as I said it.

  “Nothing is happening. What does the message say?”

  I took it out of my pocket and unrolled it. There were only two words on it.

  maus scheune

  “It says ‘mouse barn.’ That’s the one that belongs to an old lady who hates cats. Frau Ulrich’s barn.”

  “I remember that from the map,” Lucas said.

  “How could you? You only saw it once.”

  He shook his head. “No, I studied it several times. Andrew did too.”

  Of course. I’d known the map wasn’t for pilots, but it hadn’t occurred to me to wonder what they’d done with it.

  “We should go,” Lucas said. I looked back at the abbey. There were people going down the drive toward the cars. At first I thought it was just the men in uniform returning, but then I caught sight of Sister Anne. She was in the middle of the group, surrounded on all sides. One man motioned her into the backseat of the first car. The rest of the men got in.

  I grabbed Lucas’s hand. “They’re taking her away!”

  He took my other hand. His fingers were cold. “Maybe it’s not what we think. And if it is, they may just question her and let her go. We can’t know, and we need to move.” He took a step backward, tugging on my hands. “Please, Mina,” he pleaded. “We’ve come this far, and right now there is nothing we can do for her.”

  I felt sick to my stomach and my head was pounding again, but I made myself turn away from the abbey.

  We waited until Lucas said they were gone. We went down the hill and into the woods. The last time I had been in the woods below the abbey, my cousins and I had been pretending to be
lost princesses escaping from an evil witch. We had spent the afternoon terrifying ourselves, seeing witches behind every dark fir tree. The forest lent itself to fright, with deep shadows and closely set trees giving it a foreboding atmosphere. But that had been a long time ago, and in more than just years.

  As Lucas and I walked, the evening mist came up, adding to the strange atmosphere. There were no sounds, as if the animals had all deserted the forest. A few times, I thought I saw someone through the mist, but I told myself I was letting my imagination run wild from thinking about the witch game. Still, I couldn’t shake the feeling that there was a presence there, though I felt a little like Lettie for thinking such a thing. Lucas didn’t speak. His silence and my unease made the walk seem long, longer than I’d remembered it to be. I tried to think about how he might be feeling now that we were so close to seeing his father again, but it was hard to put myself in his place. My father had always been a major presence in my life. I couldn’t imagine how I’d feel if he hadn’t been there.

  My cousins’ house was down in a valley, just outside Winnefeld. The house itself was an old stone manor that had been added to many times, and it was surrounded by outbuildings and stables. When we came upon it, I could tell no one had lived there for years. It wasn’t neglected exactly, but it didn’t look as perfectly kept as it had before the war. All the windows were shuttered and the gardens looked as if someone was trying to keep up with them, but couldn’t manage. Some of the roses had been cut back, but the blackthorn hedge hadn’t been pruned for a long time, and its thorny branches made the house seem a little like a fortress.

  I wondered if the house still smelled of cocoa. My aunt had loved the drink, so of course my cousins had loved it too. They had had it every day in place of tea—another reason I had always been happy to come visit them and stayed for as long as I could. I didn’t know why the scent lingered so in the house, but you could smell it as soon as you opened the door. I didn’t know if it would ever smell that way again.

  “We need to keep going,” Lucas urged. I realized I’d been standing there staring at the house. The lights of a motorcar appeared in the distance. The vehicle went past the house and on into the village, traveling very slowly. “That had some sort of official seal on it,” Lucas whispered.

  I didn’t want to think what that might mean. “Frau Ulrich’s barn is this way,” I said. We dodged and crept through shrubs and around outbuildings until we came to the mouse barn. It was practically falling apart. There were no lights on in the woman’s cottage.

  I remembered that there was a door on one side that would be better to use than the main one. That one would surely be rusted and creaky.

  We went in. Not only could I smell the mice, but I could hear them skittering everywhere. I don’t mind mice, but the thought of the hundreds surrounding us made my skin creep. “They’re more scared of us than we are of them,” I whispered.

  “What?” Lucas asked.

  “I’m just talking to myself. Ignore me.”

  There was enough light coming in from between the decaying wood boards of the structure that I could see some old equipment and hay bales. There was even some broken furniture. “The hay bales will be full of mice,” I whispered, shuddering at the thought. “Let’s find somewhere else to sit while we wait.” I wished I knew how many hours that would be. I hoped it wouldn’t be for long.

  Lucas made us a bench out of the debris and I sank down onto it gratefully, glad to be off my feet.

  I jumped at every sound, convinced I heard someone approaching. As the hours wore on, I relaxed a little. Lucas, after he got tired of pacing, settled down next to me.

  “How will we know if something has gone wrong?” I asked finally.

  “If no one is here by dawn, then something has gone wrong.” He put his arm around me. It felt right, like he had been doing it for years. “You should sleep again if you can. We have hours to go.”

  I did sleep, though very lightly, thinking I heard mice scrambling about nearby. I wished that we had Sam the unsinkable cat back with us. He would have guarded us while I slept. I was thinking about the Belgian girl and the cat when Lucas said my name very softly.

  “Mina, wake up.” He took a lock of my hair that had come loose and twirled it around his finger. “It won’t be long now.” He leaned in close. I thought he was going to kiss me again, but he didn’t.

  He pulled back. “I hear someone outside.”

  CHAPTER

  TWENTY-ONE

  I COULD HEAR someone too. Soft footsteps, barely audible. We got up and went behind a stack of hay bales, crouching down just in time. The door opened and an electric torch played around the barn.

  Behind the light, I could make out a man. It had to be our contact. Who else could it be? I was about to call out when I saw the man wore a German uniform.

  Lucas saw it too. He got out the gun and lifted it very slowly. The man eased his way in, still playing the light around.

  Something about the way the German moved struck a chord of memory in me. As the man drew closer to the bales, Lucas shifted. I could feel him trembling, like he was getting ready to spring. A thin ray of moonlight came through the door and I saw who it was. Before I could speak, Lucas leaped up, the gun raised in his hand.

  I yelled, “No!” and threw myself at him, grasping the arm with the gun with both hands. “Don’t shoot! It’s my brother!” I shouted.

  “Mina?” the man said.

  Lucas lowered the gun and I let go of him. I ran to Crispin and flung my arms around him, hugging him tightly. He didn’t hug me back. I let go and stepped back, trying to see his face. It really was him. I didn’t understand why he was just standing there. He didn’t seem happy to see me. His face was stony, so expressionless he looked like a different person. Crispin had never been able to hide his emotions. I took another step back. “Crispin, what are you doing here? Why are you in a German uniform?” I asked, unable to comprehend what I was seeing.

  “I don’t understand,” Lucas said. “Your brother is a German soldier?”

  “No, of course not,” Crispin snapped. “Mina, I can’t believe you are here. Are you daft?” He sounded furious. “What on earth is happening? Where is Andrew?”

  “If you will stop asking questions, I’ll tell you,” I said, stung by his anger. He acted as if we were back at Hallington and he had tired of me following him around. “But you have questions to answer yourself, when I’m done explaining.” I felt like crying. He should have been happier to see me. All that time I’d spent thinking about him and missing him, and he was just standing there glaring at me.

  I plunged into the explanation, and then stopped in midsentence. It all became clear to me. “Andrew has known all along, hasn’t he?” I said. “And he didn’t tell me.” Anger threatened to overcome me. Andrew had known how torn up I was about Crispin and he hadn’t said a word. He had let me suffer, think my brother was either dead or starving as a prisoner of war. I hated him.

  I spun around. “Did you know?” I hissed at Lucas.

  He shook his head. “I had no idea.”

  “Andrew knew,” Crispin said, “but he was under orders not to tell anyone.” He turned to Lucas. “You must be Lucas. Your father is outside. I’ll go get him. I’d like to talk more, but we don’t have much time. Not everyone in the village can be trusted. I want to be out of here as quickly as possible.”

  “Wait. You can’t just appear out of nowhere without explaining,” I said. “Does Father know you are here too?”

  Crispin gave a faint smile. “Yes, he knows. He helped arrange it.”

  “How could he keep it a secret?” I didn’t understand.

  “No one knew until very recently that I was safely in place. I had a spot of trouble. And there was no sense in telling you I was alive only to find out I was dead.”

  “‘A spot of trouble’? It’s been months!”

  “More than a spot, I suppose. I was laid up with a badly broken leg in a village north
of here. Some kind souls took me in and hid me.”

  “But how could you agree? It’s so dangerous!”

  “Someone had to do it. You know my German is good enough to pass as a native. I can do far more getting valuable information out than slogging through the mud with a rifle. Now, I really need to bring in Lucas’s father. We can’t linger here.”

  I wanted to keep talking to him to make sure I wasn’t in the middle of some exhaustion dream, but he hurried out the door.

  Lucas came over and put his arm around my shoulders. “I feel like I’m inside one of your plays,” he said. “Long-lost brother reappears. Father and son meet after many years. Though I’d prefer you erase the possibility of soldiers with guns bursting in.”

  “Me too,” I murmured. “I’d erase the mice too.”

  He squeezed my arm and then took his own away when the door opened again.

  The man Crispin brought in looked nothing like Lucas. He was older than I had expected, stooped over and frail. He did fit the image of a university professor perfectly, right down to his thinning hair and wire glasses. I expected him to begin to lecture right then and there.

  Herr Mueller stood looking at Lucas, frowning. Lucas’s face was expressionless. “I’d like to speak to my son alone,” the man said in heavily accented English.

  “Mina and I will be right outside,” Crispin said. “Hurry, please.”

  We went out. Neither Crispin nor I spoke. I tried to make out some of the conversation between Lucas and his father, but only muffled voices came through the wall. Crispin shifted and then I heard a cracking sound, as if someone had stepped on a twig nearby.

  Crispin pulled me behind a hedge. He held one finger to his lips and then let go of me. I stood still, rigid with fear, hoping Lucas would have the sense to keep his father in the barn. There was no way to warn him.

  Crispin peered around the hedge. I moved so I could see too, though he tried to push me back. We both froze when a figure came into view, a man creeping toward the barn door.