CHAPTER 24
An Allied plane buzzed over Cornelia’s house, low in the sky. Her insides turned to ice and she froze, holding her breath, her dust cloth clutched in her hands. The pilots sent to liberate them often shot at any moving target, regardless of what it might be. They killed an older woman on an outlying farm last week as she pinned her clothes on the line. Cornelia no longer hung her laundry out to dry but instead strung another line across the kitchen and dried her dresses with the men’s garments.
She hated biking home from Frou de Bruin’s farm and pedaled as fast as she could, praying the entire way that she wouldn’t encounter any British or American planes.
Fear held her hand all day long and slept beside her at night.
The droning of the aircraft died away. Cornelia released her breath.
She tucked the dust rag into her apron pocket and straightened her back. Gerrit chafed more and more every day under his confinement, so it surprised her that he dozed, Pepper the cat cocooned against his chest. With the coming of the warmer weather, she had all she could do to keep him and Johan from stepping outside.
She went to the hall closet for the broom.
Pepper’s soft cat hair floated on an air current as she swept. She moved the coffee table in order to better clean under it and it scraped against the floor. Gerrit stirred, then sat up and stretched, Pepper doing the same. Weeks ago when he did this, he gasped in pain. Now, only a small grimace marred his smooth forehead.
“I didn’t mean to disturb you. I can finish later.” She moved to go to the kitchen, her broom in her hand.
His words stopped her forward progress. “Don’t go.”
She turned and caught his pleading look. Her breath hitched. With his wavy blond hair, square jaw, and blue eyes, he was handsome. Hans had been good-looking too, but with a different, more boy-like quality.
She stood her broom in the corner and sat next to him on the blue davenport, her leg brushing his. She shivered.
He snaked his left arm over the back of the couch, cupping her shoulder. She didn’t protest.
She settled into the crook of his arm, her head on his shoulder. She had never been able to do that with Hans because he was so much taller than she. When they nestled, her head had rested on his chest. A few silent moments passed as she didn’t know what to say, awkward like a girl on her first date. At last she blurted out, “How are you feeling?”
“For a man who was executed, pretty well.”
She giggled at his dry wit, feeling like a schoolgirl. “You look well too.” Heat tinged her ears. “Does it still hurt? Your arm, I mean.”
“Not much. Only if I move a certain way.” He rotated his shoulder, the muscles in his arm contracting and relaxing beneath his blue cotton shirt.
She forced herself to study the red painted floor instead of staring at him. “Good. Maybe you won’t have any lingering effects.”
“I’m ready to build furniture with Heit.”
“Is that what you want to do afterward?”
“It’s hard to think about the war being over.”
She dared to look at him once again. “It will be strange. Strange not to have to watch every word you say. Strange not to have the soldiers on the streets.”
He smiled, the dimple dancing in his cheek. “Strange to be able to go outside.”
“Strange in a good way, though.”
“Wonderful.” He cracked his knuckles. “We will be rid of the Nazis at last. Get rid of them so they will never hurt another person.”
“You have done all you can for your sister. She doesn’t know how blessed she is to have you.”
“She is the one who is a blessing to me. I need to do more for her.”
“You’re a good big brother.”
He shifted in the chair and settled in again. “And what about your big sister?”
Cornelia shook her head. “That first night Anki seemed so lost, but now she has changed. She has become strong and hard. She is better at accepting God’s will than I was.”
“Is that good or bad?”
“Piet is still alive, so I suppose she has hope and that is what has kept her from falling apart. Perhaps in a few weeks, when all of this is behind us, he will come home. He has to come home. I don’t want to see my sister suffer like I did.”
He stroked her knee, sending tingles from her toes to her head.
“What about you?”
“A dear older widow in our church told me soon after Hans died that the grief would lessen over time. I didn’t believe her, not understanding how I could go on without him. But her words were true. The ache has lessened, slowly, over a long time.” And Gerrit was the cause of it. A light had dawned in her life and pierced the darkness.
She touched his upper arm and heat suffused her entire body, replacing the cold of earlier. Johan was upstairs.
“Cornelia.”
“Ja.” Her thoughts scattered and she couldn’t say more.
He held her chin and caught her full attention. “The time has come for me to resume my deliveries. I’m well enough to get around now”—he swallowed hard—“but your home is safe for me, if you don’t mind me staying here. Otherwise, I can always find another base.”
She shot out of her seat like an antiaircraft rocket. They had such a nice conversation, and now he ruined it with this talk. The war intruded every time. “You can’t go outside. As soon as you step foot out of this house, they will nab you.”
He pulled her back beside him. “I got to the police station without any problems, didn’t I?”
“That was before they rounded up all the men. Now it’s too dangerous for any man to move about, least of all you.” Why did he insist on doing this? She worried the hem of her gray sweater.
He held her hand. “Just because it’s dangerous doesn’t mean I shouldn’t do it. The war may be over in a few days or weeks, but there is still work to be done.”
“They’ll find you, and this time you won’t survive the execution, you know.”
She withdrew her fingers from his grasp and walked in circles around the room, her hand against her heart. Losing him might be worse than losing Hans. She had already lived with Gerrit longer than she had with her husband.
“These days we all live in terror.”
She stopped and looked at the side of his blond head. “But you aren’t afraid.”
“I am. All the time.” He turned to face her and she saw the sincerity in the sure set of his pink mouth.
“You?”
“When I’m out, I hear the footsteps of soldiers behind me, about to grab me. When I’m home, I see them outside of my window. They haunt me.”
“Does Mies haunt you?”
He nodded, then he tipped his head, staring at her.
“There is more to the story.”
“Ja.”
She returned to her seat beside him, this time careful not to brush against him. “What about her? Did she hurt Dorathee?”
“Nee. I tried to explain to her why I had be involved in the Resistance, for Dorathee, but either she didn’t listen or didn’t understand. We broke off communication for a while.
“At last I managed to get home and I brought a fellow Resistance worker with me for a break. Already then, the Gestapo was watching my parents’ house in Leeuwarden. Going there was dangerous, but we were careful and didn’t arouse suspicion.” He stopped and rubbed his temples.
“Please continue.”
“Mies came to see me, but the meeting went much as it had the last time we had been together. She screamed and yelled and stormed out of the house. In the midst of her hurt and anger, she ran into a soldier just outside our door.”
He paused, gasping for breath. Cornelia held his hand. “She turned you in, didn’t she?”
He nodded. “I got out the back way and hid in the neighbor’s bushes. My friend didn’t make it. They arrested him. No one has seen or heard from him since.”
“What about your parents?”
“They weren’t home at the time. The Gestapo questioned them but released them a few hours later.”
She lowered her voice. “And then you witnessed the deaths of nine more men.”
“Ja, Mies haunts me in a way. That night I realized how dangerous this line of work is.”
“You don’t show it.”
“Emotion will sign your death sentence.”
“Is that what happened to you? Did you show emotion? Is that why they shot you?”
“Nee. In the Leeuwarden area, there was a failed attempt to blow up some rail lines. In retaliation, they rounded up some men at a house they suspected of being used for Underground purposes. They were right, and I was there with stolen ration cards and forged identification papers on my person.”
“Even with all that, you are ready to go out and face possible execution again?”
“Ja.”
“Why?”
He leaned forward, his breath on her cheek. “I see my sister’s helpless face in all of those in hiding. There are so many to help who would starve to death without ration cards.”
She slid away a little. “How can you make yourself do it if you are frightened?”
“‘In God I will praise his word, in God I have put my trust; I will not fear what flesh can do unto me.’ That’s from Psalm 56. Throughout the entire psalm, David reassures himself that he doesn’t need to be afraid because God will turn back his enemies. Our dominee preached on it early in the war. I repeat it to myself during the long hours on my bike and on foot, when I’m delivering my cargo.”
“That helps?”
“Ja.”
“Yet you hate the Germans.”
“I don’t hate them.”
“You do.”
“I want to see them defeated. I want them to leave our country forever. How can you not work toward that?” He stood, his face over hers, then turned to pace the room. “You should want to.”
ANXIOUS AS HE was to get back to work, Gerrit waited until dark that night before making his way to Bear’s house. The group leader must have work for him to do here. Going back to work near his home in Leeuwarden would be much, much more perilous.
The fresh air tasted of salt and earth and grass.
He stopped and did a few neck circles, loosening the kinks. If more Nederlanders had resisted, if they had worked to kick the Germans out of their country, this war would have been over years ago.
So much loss of life because people refused to stand up for what was right. He kicked a stone.
Clouds scuttling across the black sky hid the moon and cloaked everything in an eerie darkness. No light eked out from behind the blackout curtains. He could easily run into a patrol never having seen them.
“When I cry unto thee, then shall mine enemies turn back: this I know; for God is for me.”
He heard the stomp of feet in front of him and to the right. His heart tripped over itself. He dashed ahead into a narrow space between two buildings.
Not breathing, he listened as the footsteps approached, two men speaking in what sounded like German, though he couldn’t hear their words. They passed directly in front of him and he flattened himself against the brick wall, his shoulder aching.
He waited for a full five minutes after the footsteps died away before venturing out again. Taking a circuitous route through numerous side streets and back alleys, he reached the group’s headquarters half an hour later—about twenty minutes longer than it should have taken. But as the door opened, his heart rate returned to normal.
Maarten admitted him, clapping him on the back with his large, work-roughened hand. “Hey, here you are.”
Gerrit gave his friend a playful shove. “I can’t sit back and let Cornelia wait on me for the rest of the war.”
“Why not?” Maarten grinned and jabbed him back. “She is beautiful and I know you are smitten.”
“This is not why I risked my life to come here. Is Bear around?”
Maarten led him to the kitchen where the hulking man sat at the table, a coffee cup dwarfed in his hands. Another man sat across from him.
Maarten motioned toward the man. “This is Junior. Sit and I’ll get you some of our best coffee.”
For half a second, he thought the cell had gotten their hands on some genuine coffee beans. One taste of the bitter brew Maarten handed him told him that was not the case.
His friend pulled back his chair and took his place at the table. “We were discussing some logistical matters. One of the group got caught in the razzia the other week.”
“I may have the solution to your problems. I’m healed enough to take on deliveries again, but I cannot go back to Leeuwarden. The moment I step foot inside the town limits, I will be arrested. The entire area is too dangerous for me to work. I have decided to stay here for a while, so I can take on some of the load.”
Bear played with his mug’s handle, then looked at Maarten. “What do you think?”
The dark-haired man nodded. “I have known Gerrit since we were in knickers. He is religious and trustworthy. You won’t find anyone so loyal. He will work hard and won’t betray us.”
“But he was arrested once. He is a wanted man here as much as in Leeuwarden.” Bear pushed away his empty cup.
Gerrit leaned forward. “That is true. They are on the lookout for me here too, but I don’t think the outlying areas are as dangerous. I’m not known around here, so there is no risk of being turned in by sympathizers. They don’t realize I have a price on my head. If you make me some identity cards, I will be even safer.”
Junior leaned his tall frame back in his creaky chair. “We need the help and Rooster has never given us bad information.” Rooster was Maarten’s code name. When they were kids, he did have this uncanny ability to imitate any farm animal.
Junior continued, “He wouldn’t put us at jeopardy by recommending someone unreliable. For weeks this man has known about us, since Rooster went to see him right after the execution. If he wanted to turn us in, he has had ample opportunity.”
Adrenaline pumped through Gerrit. More than fish needed water, he needed to be busy.
Bear growled. “Are we agreed, then?”
The two others gave their assent.
“I have your first assignment for you, Jan Aartsma.”
He felt like a kid waiting for a school vacation.
“It won’t be easy. In fact, it is very dangerous.”
Gerrit couldn’t wait to finish the job he had started.
And then Bear told Gerrit what he needed to do.
CHAPTER 25
You are asking me to do what?” Gerrit gripped the edge of the well-polished kitchen table in the Resistance house. “I can’t do that.”
Bear rubbed his bald head. “If you can’t accept this assignment, we don’t have any work for you.”
He couldn’t sit in confinement anymore, couldn’t watch others working for the end of the war and the liberation of all of the Netherlands. But in his years of Resistance work, never had he been asked to do something like this. He had heard of others attempting such a brazen act. Most often it hadn’t ended well.
He fidgeted in the hard chair. What Bear asked of him bordered on the area where he vowed never to go. He had done plenty of illegal things in the past years, always convinced he stood on the side of right. But this …
He wiped his damp hands on his brown pleated trousers. Then he stood and walked to the back of the chair. Wrapping one hand around his stomach, he cupped his jaw in the other, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.
He had been raised in one of the strictest tsjerkes in all of the Netherlands and had been taught right from wrong at an early age. He knew the Ten Commandments. Theft was wrong. But if he didn’t complete this task, many people would die. What would his dominee say? What would God say?
He looked into the angular face of his friend with the strange code name. “What do you think?”
“The decision is yours; I have already made
mine. What does your conscience tell you?”
Gerrit shook his head. Any sailor would be proud of all the knots in his gut. He shifted his weight again.
Lord, help me to do what is right.
Conviction filled his heart. This was the job his heavenly Father had for him. He took a deep breath. “I will steal the ration cards.”
Bear, Maarten, and Junior all nodded and smiled. Gerrit rejoined them at the table and together they worked out the details of the plan. Everything had to be precise and without flaw. Backup plans needed to be made in case of glitches. He concentrated on each word they said, committing it to memory. Writing it down posed too much risk to himself and the others if he got caught.
Hours later Gerrit’s eyes itched. He prayed his exhausted mind would retain all of this information. Bear scraped back his chair and stood. “You know the plan. If anything goes wrong, we can’t help you. You will be on your own.” He offered his paw-like hand. “Good luck.”
Maarten also stood. “God will watch over him and he will be fine.”
The man with a trunk like a tree showed Gerrit to the door. “In case of a raid, the fewer who are in this place at one time, the better, so I want you to go two houses down on the left. An elderly couple lives there. Tell them I sent you and the woman will give you a hot breakfast, a place to sleep, and the money to bribe the guard. You can leave from there tonight.”
Bear turned to go, but Gerrit touched his arm to stop him. “I can’t do that. I have to get back to Cornelia. She must be sick with worry by now. If I don’t show up until after supper, she will be in a state.”
“You can’t do a lot of things, can you? Distractions aren’t good. We can’t afford them. If you are involved with a woman, perhaps it would be best to find someone else to do the job.”
Gerrit needed to get back to work, but what about Cornelia? He couldn’t lose this opportunity. Perhaps he could slip by and see her later today, before he began his assignment. “Nee, I won’t be distracted.”
“Good, then you will go to Beppe and Pake’s house for a little rest.”
Gerrit relaxed a little with the thought that Cornelia did have Johan with her. He would occupy her time and keep her calm.
Liz Tolsma Page 17