Masters of Silence

by Kathy Kacer

  “Excuse me, sir,” he began, bowing to the soldier who still held the sandwich in his outstretched hand. “I feel terrible that we’ve made such a mess of your commander’s uniform. By way of apology, let me offer a bit of entertainment to you and all of the soldiers.” He pointed to the children. “My young friends here are not only scouts in training, they are also young performers.”

  The soldier stopped inspecting the sandwich and looked up. Even their commander stopped rubbing at the stain on his uniform. “Performers?” He stared at Helen, Henry, and Albert. “What did you say your names were?”

  Helen was the first one to speak. “I’m Claire Rochette,” she said, trying to keep her voice even.

  “Marc,” Albert said next. His face had gone white. “Marc Durand.”

  But when Helen looked over at Henry, she could see that he was frozen. All of the courage that he had shown until now seemed to have disappeared. A veil of fear passed over his face and rested there like a thick blanket.

  “And you?” the soldier said, staring at Henry. “I asked your name.”

  Henry opened his mouth to speak and then clamped it shut. His eyes were bulging, his breath coming in quick shallow gulps.

  This can’t be happening again, Helen thought. Not now! It was as if Henry was disappearing back into that silent place.

  “Well?” the soldier insisted.

  And still no sound came out of Henry. The soldier was just beginning to come closer when Helen spoke up again. “His name is Andre. He’s my brother. He’s very shy.” It was as if they were back in the store again, Henry paralyzed with fear and Helen trying desperately to rescue him. And then she took a deep breath and said, “And yes, we’re performers. Would you like to see?”

  The soldier paused, his gaze shifting from Henry over to Helen.

  Without waiting for a reply, Helen took a step forward and bowed deeply to the soldiers, sweeping her arm across her chest and plunging forward from the waist. She held her position until she heard the soldiers begin to chuckle. Only then did she stand up and take her position. She knew exactly which skit she would do for the soldiers. It was the very first one she had seen Marcel do at the convent—where he was the lion tamer. Helen extended her arm out in front of her, pretending to hold an imaginary chair. She thrust the chair forward and snapped her other hand in the air as if she were holding a whip. But as she tried to shuffle forward and back, she knew that her movements were clumsy and not at all convincing.

  “I don’t know what she’s trying to do,” one of the soldiers said. “Has she got a fan in her hand?”

  Helen tried once more, snapping her make-believe whip and trying to command the lion to sit and then stand up on its hind legs.

  The commander scratched at his head. “Perhaps it’s a sword,” he said.

  Finally, Helen turned to face Henry. She looked him straight in the eye, urging him to join her. I need your help, Henry, her eyes pleaded. Show the soldiers that you can do this.

  Henry gulped, nodded, and jumped in behind his sister. He held his own make-believe whip and chair in his hand and began to push the imaginary lion back a few steps.

  “It’s a lion,” the soldier exclaimed. “Can’t you see it?”

  With Henry by her side, Helen began to force the lion to yield to her. At one point, Henry approached the lion and pretended to force it to open its mouth, placing his own head inside. The soldiers roared their approval.

  The next time Helen turned around, her eyes locked with Albert’s. If they were to convince these guards that they could put on a show, then all three of them would have to join in. The color had drained from Albert’s face and he was breathing fast. But Helen held out her hand to him and he grabbed it. It was cold and clammy, but she held fast and pulled him into their circus ring. The three of them began to walk forward, making the imaginary lion lie down and roll over as if it were a puppy. Albert was as stiff and awkward as he had been when they had first tried the skits in the forest.

  At one point, he very nearly lost his balance as he pretended that the lion was coming after him. He turned and began to run around the imaginary ring. His arms windmilled in circles as he struggled to regain his footing. Helen and Henry both reached out to grab him and pull him upright. The soldiers roared with laughter and applauded loudly. It was if Albert’s clumsiness was the funniest part of the routine. And as the laughter from the guards grew, Albert began to exaggerate the awkward movements, tripping over his feet and nearly falling to the ground again. The soldiers roared even louder. Finally, the three children held their hands up in the air and bowed once more to the soldiers, who cheered.

  Their commander nodded his head approvingly. “You are training them well, indeed,” he said to Marcel, “and giving them many skills.” He pointed at Albert. “That one is a real comedian.”

  Marcel responded with a bow that was as deep and dramatic as the children’s had been. By now, the soldier holding the sandwich had discarded it onto the ground. Quietly and almost invisibly, Helen reached down, retrieved the sandwich, and stuffed it back into Marcel’s bag.

  Finally, the commander barked at his troop to fall into line. He bowed curtly to Marcel and then marched his regiment off into the forest, leaving Helen and the others alone once more. Gradually, the shouts and commands from the troop’s leader grew fainter, their footfalls and popping of branches faded and finally disappeared. Birds began to fly overhead and small animals resumed their foraging. Marcel held his hand up in the air, indicating that the children should keep still and not talk for a few minutes longer, just to be sure that the danger had passed. Finally, he lowered his hand.

  That was when Helen sank to the ground. She was so shaken from this encounter with the soldiers that she no longer trusted herself to remain standing. Albert seemed just as stunned. A moment later, Henry walked over to her and crouched down. She smiled faintly at him.

  “Are you all right?” Henry asked.

  She reached over and brushed the curls off his forehead. He didn’t flinch and he didn’t move away. “I’m … I’m fine. What about you?”

  He grinned. “I’m okay.”

  As he smiled broadly, one eyebrow lifted up higher than the other. It was just like Maman! Helen gasped. “You were amazing,” she said. “Signaling to Marcel like that.”

  “I got scared when they spoke to me,” Henry said, looking down.

  “It doesn’t matter. You jumped into the skit when you needed to. The important thing is that we got through it.”

  Henry shrugged. “You were pretty good, too. You knew what to do when the clown wanted us to perform.”

  By now, Albert had walked over to join them. He kneeled down beside Helen.

  “And you were the biggest surprise of all,” she said to him.

  “Who knew that acting badly could actually be good,” Albert replied, laughing softly and shaking his head.

  Marcel listened to their exchange. “You were all more than amazing,” he said quietly. “The three of you completely distracted the soldiers with your performance. I knew I could count on you.”

  CHAPTER 35

  Henry

  The hiking had gotten easier again. Henry felt strong as he trekked up and down those steep hills in the fresh air. He felt muscles in his legs that he hadn’t felt in such a long time. His senses were more alert as well. He could tell whether the crackle of a branch was simply a rabbit scurrying up ahead or a deer stepping over a fallen tree trunk or a fox hunting for small rodents.

  There had been no other encounters with the Nazis, though Henry was always on guard for any sign of trouble. When the clown had raised his hand with his danger signal, it felt like second nature to him to hide, and then to pass messages to the clown. So, he wasn’t sure why he had frozen like that when the soldier had asked his name. Thank goodness Helen had stepped in. Together, they had done everything that the clown had taught them. Still, he wasn’t su
re what had overtaken him back there, and it troubled him.

  He talked to Helen about this as they trudged through the woods.

  “Were you scared?” he asked. “Back there with those soldiers? When they were talking to you?”

  She looked at him. “I was very scared!”

  “But you didn’t look it.”

  Helen shrugged. “That’s just an act. If you could have looked inside of me, you would have seen that I was a wreck.”

  Henry smiled. “I thought you said you weren’t very good at acting.”

  This time it was Helen’s turn to smile. “I guess I’m getting better.”

  The growth in the forest had started to thin out. Trees were farther apart and the path under Henry’s feet was growing flatter and more even. Up ahead, Henry could hear something new—the sound of rushing water. A few steps farther and they were out of the woods and onto the bank of a river that stretched in both directions for as far as Henry could see. Water was flowing across rocks and logs, surging past in some places and then slowing to a lazy current in others. The clown came to a stop. A moment later, they joined him at the river’s edge.

  “We have to cross here,” the clown said. “And then, our destination will be near.”

  Destination? Henry could not believe his ears. Were they really that close to the Swiss border? When he looked at Helen, her mouth had dropped open and she, too, was staring across the river in disbelief.

  “You’ll have to hold your backpacks above your heads as you cross,” the clown continued. “It isn’t too deep, but the footing can be a bit tricky. Don’t worry,” he added. “I’ll lead the way.” With that, he turned and began to wade across the river. He moved quickly until he was roughly halfway across. The water swirled around his legs and splashed up to his waist. Then he turned back to the group still standing on the bank.

  “You see?” he called back. “It isn’t too deep. Follow the course that I took. Come toward me and then we’ll go from here.”

  For a moment, no one moved. And then, Albert took the first step. He lifted his backpack up in the air and waded into the water. Henry watched as he carefully picked his way to the center of the river and then glanced back, motioning for them to follow.

  Helen stepped in next, carefully placing one foot in front of the other. Finally, it was Henry’s turn. The water was icy cold, creeping up his legs until it came to just below his waist. He placed his feet ever so carefully on the river bottom, wobbling over some loose stones and then finding a secure footing.

  “Are you okay?” Helen called back to him.

  He looked up and smiled, nodding at her to keep going. “I’m fine,” he replied. “Right behind you.”

  It took about twenty steps for Henry to reach the midpoint. When they were all together, the clown nodded his approval and then continued wading forward until he arrived at the other bank and climbed out. Then he turned once more. “You’re almost there,” he said. And then he motioned for Henry and the others to follow.

  Minutes later, all of them stood on the opposite shore, wringing out their trousers and placing their bundles on their backs once more. The clown waited until everyone was ready before he took off, proceeding along a path and then turning sharply to the left. After a few more minutes of walking, he raised his hand. Henry and the others gathered around him. That’s when the clown pointed ahead of them to a barbed-wire fence that looked nearly as high as the clown. It stretched to the right and to the left, disappearing into the distance on either side.

  “That’s the border,” the clown said.

  CHAPTER 36

  Helen

  When people had said that Switzerland was a safe place for Jews, Helen had thought it meant that Jews would be made to feel welcome there. But there were no open doors at the Swiss border—no signs that said “We’re glad to have you.” There was nothing friendly about the barbed-wire fence that looked six feet high and miles wide. It was ugly and hostile. Its razor-sharp spikes said no one was wanted.

  Even worse than the fence itself were the soldiers on the other side. They patrolled back and forth, some carrying rifles on their shoulders, others pointing them directly in front of them, ready to use if provoked. Helen had thought that the soldiers would greet them warmly in this so-called safe country. That didn’t look as if it was going to happen. These soldiers looked just as threatening as the Nazi soldiers they were fleeing.

  As if he had read her mind, Marcel gathered the children toward him and knelt down. They crouched in front of him.

  “I’ll help get you past the barbed wire,” he said, his voice low and urgent. “But after that, you’ll be on your own.”

  Helen glanced nervously at the soldiers.

  “I know,” Marcel said. “They don’t look friendly. They’ve caught too many spies trying to get across. They’ll be suspicious of you, even though you’re young. That’s why you’ll have to show them these.”

  With that, he reached into his backpack and pulled out the sandwich that he had wrapped days earlier. It was flattened from having been banged about in his bag and inspected by the Nazi soldier. It looked soft and soggy. He placed the sandwich on the ground before him and slowly unwrapped it. Then he peeled off the top of the baguette and removed the documents wrapped and hidden inside. Then he unwrapped those, being careful not to let them get wet, and smiled.

  “I knew those soldiers would never get to these. Good thing they were protected by the wax paper.”

  He held the papers up in the air.

  “Clean as a whistle,” he said, handing Helen, Henry, and Albert their identity documents. “Keep these in your pockets. As soon as the soldiers surround you, tell them who you are and show them your papers. You’ll be fine.”

  Helen looked down at hers. Her real name—Helen Rosenthal—was spelled out in dark letters. She hoped she would never have to use that other name again.

  “I have one more thing for you,” Marcel said, glancing at Helen and Henry.

  They both watched as he reached into his bag again and pulled out another soggy sandwich that had been buried at the bottom. He unwrapped it and pulled the layers apart to reveal what looked like one more document, still wrapped up. And when he pulled the waxy layers away, Helen realized what it was. She gasped when she saw the two small photographs of her parents that Marcel had pulled out of her backpack before they left the convent—her father, so serious and unsmiling, and Maman, her eyes lit up and that one freckle by the side of her mouth.

  “How did you manage to keep these?” Helen asked in amazement.

  “I knew they were too important to leave behind. I wrapped them up that first day in the barn, just like your documents.”

  Gently, the clown placed the photos in Helen’s hands. She stared down at them for a moment, then smoothed them out and brought them close to her body. Even though there were tears in her eyes, she looked up at Marcel and smiled.

  “Once the Swiss government is convinced you are not a threat, they’ll help you try and find your parents,” he said softly “You can’t lose hope.”

  “Thank you,” she said, her voice catching.

  Marcel glanced up at the sky and then once more at the barbed-wire fence. “We’ll wait for the soldiers to change guard and then we’ll dig our way under the fence.” He looked back at Helen, Henry, and Albert with a smile. “Are you ready to get dirty?”

  All three children nodded.

  CHAPTER 37

  Henry

  Once the soldiers finished their shift, they would disappear inside the barrack. Then, the clown explained, they would have only ten minutes to dig a hole and burrow under the fence before new soldiers came on duty. They would have to work quickly. But the clown told Henry and the others that before that could happen, they should rest and gather their strength for what would be their final push to safety.

  Henry removed his backpack and rested his head against it. Th
at’s when Helen crawled over to where he was lying. Henry sat up.

  “I just wanted to make sure you’re okay,” she said as she sat cross-legged in front of him.

  Henry picked at a thread that dangled from his pack. “You’re always doing that.”

  “Doing what?”

  “Making sure I’m okay.”

  “I guess I can’t help myself,” Helen said. “You’re my little brother. Maman told me to watch out for you.”

  “She said we should watch out for each other,” Henry said.

  Helen nodded. “You’re right. I guess you’re a lot stronger than I thought.”

  “Maman told me I had to be brave,” Henry continued. “She wrote that in her letter to me.”

  That’s when Henry told Helen about going to the zoo with Maman and Papa, and about how he had wanted to put his hand inside the lion’s cage, thinking he could tame the wild animal. “Maman wrote that if I ever felt scared, I should think about that time.”

  “I remember that!” Helen exclaimed. “Maman and Papa were so afraid for you. But you were fearless.” She paused. “I won’t underestimate you anymore, Henry.”

  “You’re pretty brave yourself,” he replied, still picking at the thread. “And I don’t mind if you look out for me every now and then.”

  “As long as you do the same for me.”

  Just then, Henry detected some movement on the other side of the barbed wire. The soldiers were falling into a straight line and marching toward the small building that was their outpost. The clown was by their side in an instant.

  “Now’s our chance,” he said, motioning for the three children to crawl after him to the fence.

  They followed on hands and knees and immediately began to dig in the soft dirt, taking turns until they had made a deep ditch. Then the clown removed his jacket and used it to raise the barbed wire up so that it wouldn’t brush against their backs when they wiggled underneath.