by Kathy Kacer
The nun stopped and whirled to face Helen. “Do you know how dangerous that was? Do you realize what could have happened?”
“I know, Sister Agnes. But this wasn’t our fault.”
“I told you to speak with no one!”
“But you never told us that there might be Nazi soldiers in the store.”
Sister Agnes looked madder than Henry had ever seen. There was practically fire coming out of her eyes. But there was also something different about the look on her face. She looked scared. That was something Henry hadn’t seen before.
“I … thought I might lose you today,” Sister Agnes said, her face pale and her voice shaking. “Those soldiers are searching for Jews. And not just grown-ups.They are searching for children, like the two of you.” She swept her arm out to include Henry.
Sister Agnes sounded as if she was really worried about them. And Helen looked as if she might cry. He wanted to do something to help, but he felt more helpless than ever.
“It was a mistake to leave the convent,” Sister Agnes continued. The worried look disappeared. “I’m afraid that will have to be the only time for you two—and the last time for all of you!”
Then she turned and kept marching down the road. Helen dropped back to walk with Henry. At first, she didn’t say a word. He looked up at her. He hadn’t wanted to make her mad, and he hated it when he saw that she was scared. He wanted to tell her that he felt that way, too, and that they were in this together. He wanted to tell her that he would always try to watch out for her. She had spoken up for him in the store, but he was the one who had stopped her from saying his real name. They could have been in even bigger trouble if she’d done that. He’d even looked sad and had made his lower lip shake when Helen had talked about their parents being dead. Did she realize what he had done? Did she understand that he was looking out for her, too? He wanted to tell her all of those things. But no words came out of his mouth.
They walked together a little while longer until Helen finally turned to him. “I know what you were trying to do in there, Henry,” she said. “I almost said your name. If you hadn’t grabbed my arm and stopped me, I don’t know what would have happened.”
So, she does understand after all.
“That was pretty brave of you.”
He glanced up at her and the slightest smile crept across his face.
Helen sighed and looked up ahead to where Sister Agnes was still marching along, her arms swinging furiously back and forth with every long step that she took. “I don’t know what’s going to happen when we get back to the convent. We’re probably going to be in real trouble, that’s for sure. But I want to thank you for stopping me in there.”
Henry felt his heart swell. She knows! She understood what he had done. That was most important.
“Sometimes I think I need to protect you,” Helen continued. “But I’m glad you’re here to protect me, too.”
Together, they continued walking toward the convent. Henry still felt afraid and still felt as if he wasn’t ready to speak. But something had changed for him. Helen had called him brave. He needed to believe it was true.
CHAPTER 10
Helen
As soon as they arrived back at the convent, Sister Agnes stormed ahead to the head nun’s office. And not long after that, Mère Supérieure summoned them to meet with her. Helen wasn’t surprised, but she dreaded what was to come. What had Sister Agnes meant when she’d said it was the last time they would be able to leave the convent? And would they be sent away from here? If that happened, then how would Maman ever find them? How would she ever come back for them? How would they ever be a whole family again? Those thoughts were more terrifying than anything else.
“We didn’t do anything wrong,” Helen cried once they were seated in front of Mère Supérieure.
“Didn’t do anything wrong?” the head nun asked. “There are so many things that you did wrong—leaving your brother alone, talking to those soldiers. How can you not see that?”
Helen did not back down. She clenched her fists in her lap and sat farther up in the chair. “Sister Agnes told us we could get our things on our own. And we didn’t see the soldiers. They just appeared out of nowhere.”
Mère Supérieure barely heard what she was saying. “You knew you were not supposed to talk to anyone when you were out. Don’t you realize what danger you might have put this convent in? The other children?”
“But the soldiers questioned us!” Helen persisted. “Were we supposed to turn and walk away? Don’t you think that would have been even more dangerous?” How could the head nun not understand this?
Mère Supérieure sighed.
“We didn’t give anything away,” Helen continued. “We remembered our names—Claire and Andre.” She reached over and squeezed Henry’s hand as she carefully sidestepped around the part where she had very nearly blurted their real names.
Henry looked at her as she spoke. There was a mixture of understanding and pride on his face. Then he turned and stared defiantly at Mère Supérieure.
The nun shook her head. “Thank goodness you remembered what you had been taught. And we can only hope that it was enough. But how can I make you understand the risk that you took?” The head nun’s voice was sounding more tired and less cross.
“I’m sorry, Mère Supérieure. And I know how angry Sister Agnes is. I’m sure there will be some punishment for us.” Helen hung her head and waited. She would take whatever Sister Agnes doled out: washing dishes for a month, scrubbing floors, making everyone’s beds—whatever it was, she could handle it. Just don’t send us away, Helen prayed.
“Sister Agnes was terrified!” Mère Supérieure said. “She worries about you and all of the children at the convent. And it’s not about being punished. It’s just that …” She paused and Helen looked up.
“It’s the first time that the Nazis have appeared in our town,” the head nun said. “We’ve seen their flags and we know they’re in this area. But we’ve never spotted them this close to our convent before.”
This admission was huge, Helen realized. And terrifying. The danger that the head nun had alluded to—soldiers searching for Jews in surrounding towns and villages—was getting closer. Hitler’s soldiers were nearby. This place of safety was feeling less and less secure.
“But if you didn’t know about the Nazis, and Sister Agnes didn’t know about them, how could my brother and I have known they would be in the store?”
“Yes, I suppose you’re right.” Mère Supérieure sighed again and shook her head. “I don’t know what to think. The Nazis being this close changes everything for us.”
It felt for a moment as if Mère Supérieure had forgotten that Helen and her brother were in her office. She stared off into space, her lips moving as if she was still talking but no sound was coming out. Finally, her gaze came back to rest on the children. “I must discuss this with the other sisters.” She paused and then added, “That’s all. You may both go.”
Helen stood, grabbed Henry by the arm, and the two of them fled the room.
Henry bolted down the hall and up the staircase before Helen had a chance to talk to him. But Michelle was waiting for her outside the head nun’s office.
“I heard what happened when you went into town. Everyone’s talking about it. Are you okay?” Michelle took Helen’s arm and steered her down the hallway to a quiet classroom where the nuns would not hear their conversation. Her eyes were filled with concern.
Helen quickly told her about their encounter with the Nazi soldiers. “It was terrible. They were this close to us.” She held her hands inches apart. “And they started asking questions about who we were and where we were living, and where our parents were. I was shaking so hard I thought I’d fall down.” Even now, her stomach was churning just recalling the events in the store.
Michelle gasped. “I’ve been to town with the sisters a few times. I’ve se
en those flags on the buildings. But I’ve never seen any soldiers.”
Helen nodded. “That’s what Mère Supérieure said. They’ve never been this close to the convent. What do you think it means?”
Michelle shook her head. “I don’t know.”
The girls stood in silence and then Michelle spoke again. “Maybe it was only a one-time thing. Maybe the soldiers were just passing through town and now they’re gone.”
Helen looked doubtful. “Mère Supérieure was pretty upset about the whole thing.”
“But we have to keep believing that we’re safe here, right?” Michelle paused. “Mère Supérieure said we’re still safe, didn’t she?”
“She just said that she needs time to think.”
“Think about what?”
Helen shrugged her shoulders. She had no answer.
“Do you think you’re going to be in trouble with Sister Agnes?” Michelle finally asked.
“I have no idea. I still say that Henry and I did nothing wrong. But there’s no telling what Sister Agnes will twist this into.”
A punishment from the mean nun seemed almost insignificant right now—and the least of her worries. She could deal with whatever the nuns doled out to her. What she couldn’t shake was the feeling that the danger out there everyone spoke of was getting closer and closer to her and everyone at the convent. She looked over at Michelle. Her friend hadn’t stood inches from the Nazis like she had. Michelle hadn’t felt the soldier’s breath on her face or heard him say that the Jews are disgusting. Like Michelle, Helen wanted to believe that things wouldn’t get any worse and the only thing to worry about was whether or not she would be hit with more chores and less free time. But the sick feeling in her stomach was not going away.
CHAPTER 11
Helen
Helen could barely sleep that night, and every time she drifted off, she saw the faces of Nazi soldiers looming before her, demanding her name. Maman was calling out to her, but Helen couldn’t find her. And Henry was gripping her arm, his mouth open in a silent scream. What was her name? Helen couldn’t remember. She was suffocating and choking. And then she would wake up, coughing and sweaty, and not wanting to close her eyes for fear that the dream would start again.
She finally gave up on sleep and sat up in bed. It didn’t help that the room was stifling hot. The soft snores of the other girls filled the dark space. She pushed back the covers and got out of bed, creeping to the door and pulling it open with hardly a creak. She didn’t want to wake anyone, didn’t want to answer any questions about why she was up and wandering about. She didn’t know if it was okay to venture from her room in the middle of the night. But she had to get some air.
The hallway felt cooler and Helen breathed in deeply, wiping the sweat from her upper lip and brushing away the curls that were stuck to her forehead. She tiptoed carefully down the staircase, holding on to the wooden railing and glancing every now and then over her shoulder. No one was about.
What now? she wondered as she reached the landing and allowed her eyes to adjust to the darkness. Perhaps a glass of water would help. Then, she might be ready to get back into bed. Dark shadows stretched across the wooden floor and up the walls as she walked toward the kitchen. It was strange to be here all alone, and to hear nothing. Normally, the halls buzzed with children running from room to room. Tonight, these dark and quiet halls reminded her of the night she and Henry had first arrived. That was just a few weeks ago, but it felt like so much longer.
Helen reached the kitchen and swung the door open. She thought for a moment about turning on a light, and then rejected the idea. She sensed she’d be in trouble if one of the nuns found her here in the middle of the night. And if that nun happened to be Sister Agnes, there was no telling what would follow. Better to make her way in the dark.
She reached the sink and turned on the water, letting the cool stream run across her hands and then bringing them up to her face. She stayed that way for a moment, pressing her hands against her cheeks and then across the back of her neck. Finally, she closed her eyes and bent forward to take a sip. Suddenly, the kitchen was flooded in light and a voice behind her asked, “What are you doing here?”
Helen whirled around, squinting in the harsh bright light. There in the doorway was a young boy.
“You scared me to death!” she cried. “I thought you were one of the nuns.”
The boy had dark brown eyes and wavy brown hair that he brushed out of his eyes as he stared at Helen. There was a small smile on his lips. “Do I look like one of the nuns? Besides, only guilty people get scared when they’re caught.”
Now he was sounding like one of the nuns!
He extended his hand to her. “I’m Albert,” he said. Without waiting for an invitation, he entered the kitchen, allowing the door to shut behind him, and walked up to her. His hand was still extended, waiting for Helen to grab it and return the greeting.
“Do you make a habit of sneaking up on people?” she asked, ignoring his hand. Still shaken, she brushed away the drops of water streaming down her chin and onto her nightgown.
The boy shrugged. “Sorry. I’m not used to finding anyone up in the middle of the night.” He extended his hand again. “Can we start again? I’m Albert. Albert Gotlieb.”
Helen had seen this boy in passing here at the convent. He was one of the older ones. She stared at his hand for a moment and then reached over to shake it. “I’m Helen.”
He smiled. “Yes, Helen Rosenthal. I know your name. I’m sorry I haven’t said hello to you sooner.”
“Are you the welcoming committee?”
“Not exactly. But I’ve been here for eight months now, and I notice everything and everyone.”
“Why are you up?” Helen asked.
“I’m not much of a sleeper. Never have been. The sisters know that, so they let me roam around at night. What about you?”
“I couldn’t sleep either,” Helen replied, feeling her heartbeat slow to normal. “I just came for some water.”
Albert moved over to the icebox. He swung the door open and peered inside. “How about some milk? The sisters don’t mind if I get something when I’m up. We just have to put everything away before the cook gets here in the morning.” He glanced over at her. “Hide the evidence and all.”
Helen hesitated. She wasn’t really in the mood for company. But a glass of cool milk certainly sounded inviting. She nodded and pulled out a stool from behind the counter. By now, Albert had taken the jar of milk from the icebox, uncapped it, and poured some milk into two glasses that he had taken down from the cupboard. He slid one over to Helen and then took a seat opposite her.
She took a long sip. Delicious!
“I’d warm it for you, but lighting the stove in the middle of the night may bring the nuns running,” Albert said.
“This is perfect.” Helen allowed herself to smile for the first time. “Thank you,” she added.
Albert sat back and stared at her. “So, why couldn’t you sleep?”
Helen hesitated again. How much did she really want to share with this boy she had just met? Then again, why not just tell him what she was worried about? He seemed to know his way around, and perhaps he had information that might calm her fears. It was worth a try. She quickly filled him in on what had happened to her and Henry on their outing.
“Yes, I heard about what happened to you in town. Is that what’s keeping you up?” he asked.
Helen nodded. “That and all this talk that the Nazis may be closer to this place than anyone had thought.”
Albert shook his head. “As I said, I’ve been at the convent for some time now and nothing bad has happened here. I trust the nuns. They’ll do whatever they need to do to keep us safe. If this place becomes dangerous, they’ll move us somewhere else.”
“But where?” Helen demanded. Maman had said there were no other places to go. And if they left, how would her m
other ever find her? She didn’t share that worry with Albert.
He shrugged his shoulders. “I’ve learned not to think too far into the future.”
Helen sighed. “My father always said that worrying about tomorrow takes all the joy out of today. But all I ever do is worry about the future. Doesn’t it scare you to think about leaving here and going somewhere else?”
Albert shrugged again. “I’m all alone, so it really doesn’t matter to me where I go.”
“Where are you from?”
“Vienna. When my parents were taken, I was passed around from neighbor to neighbor—the friendly ones of course, not the ones who were out to get us. I finally ended up here with a group of kids smuggled out of Austria. I have no idea what’s happened to my parents. But I guess I’m luckier than many. I’m still alive.”
Helen gulped. It was the kind of story she had heard from so many of the children here. “Do you have any brothers or sisters?”
Albert shook his head. “No, it’s just me.” He paused and then suddenly asked, “How is your brother doing? Henry, right?”
This boy knew a lot. She nodded.
Albert leaned forward and stared at her. “Seriously, though, I’ve noticed that he’s having a hard time. I introduced myself to him a couple of days ago, but he just stared back at me. I know he’s not talking.”
There was nothing in Albert’s eyes to suggest that he wanted to pry. His face was open and sincere. But it was unnerving to have him stare at her. She looked away, fidgeted with the sleeve of her nightgown, and scratched at a stain on the counter. Albert waited patiently without saying another word. Finally, Helen looked up at him.
“I’m worried about Henry. You’re right; he doesn’t talk, and after our outing to town, I’m afraid he may disappear into himself even more. I’m not sure there’s anything anyone can do for him.”