by Anne Dublin
“Hey!” He tightened his grip. “None of that!”
“Let me go!” Johanna yelled as she struggled to break free.
“Shut up!” Karl said. He struck Johanna hard on the face. Her cheek stung and her eyes watered. He hit her again and reached for her moneybag. She struggled to get away but he held her fast. He pushed Johanna down to the ground and pressed his hand on her mouth. She struggled to get up but he was as heavy as a fallen tree as he straddled her, trying to get her moneybag. She could scarcely breathe. What little air she inhaled was sour and sickening.
“The baby!” gasped Johanna. “The baby’s sick.”
Just then, Hans cried, “S-s-someone’s coming!”
“Damn!” Karl yanked the moneybag from Johanna’s belt, but the coins spilled onto the ground.
“C-c-come on, Karl!”
“All right,” Karl said. “Let’s go!”
The two men ran off into the fields and were soon hidden by the tall grass.
Johanna couldn’t stop shaking. Cecile was weeping. Rebecca was howling. Daniel was crouched on the ground, dazed.
“Whoa!” A tall man on horseback looked down at the group in astonishment. “What is going on here?”
Johanna struggled to stand up, but she collapsed back onto the ground.
The man jumped off his horse. “Don’t be afraid. I will help you.” But Johanna didn’t hear what he said. She had fainted.
Johanna floated on a cinnamon-scented cloud. Brightly coloured birds flew about in the perfumed air. Nutmeg trees waved their branches on the ground far below. Johanna felt as if she were wrapped in a warm cocoon. She never wanted to leave.
“Johanna! Wake up!” Cecile was shaking her shoulder. Her voice sounded far away.
Johanna opened her eyes, blinked several times, and squeezed them shut. Her head was throbbing and her face ached. She opened her eyes again. She was lying on a blanket in the wagon. Someone had put her bag under her head for a pillow.
“Rebecca!” Johanna sat up with a start. Everything spun around. She felt sick to her stomach, leaned forward, and vomited over the side of the wagon.
“Don’t worry,” said Cecile. “She’s fine.”
“Lie still,” said a man’s voice.
“Do like he says,” Daniel said.
Johanna groaned and lay back down on the blanket.
“Here. Drink this.” Johanna looked up into a pair of warm brown eyes. The young man lifted her head and put a flask to her lips.
Johanna couldn’t stop shaking. She sipped the brandy and choked. The liquid burned. “What happened?”
“You fainted,” said Cecile.
“Out like a light,” Daniel added.
“I’m sorry,” Johanna said.
“There’s nothing to be sorry about,” said Cecile. “You were very brave!”
“I agree,” said the man. He handed Johanna her moneybag. “I have taken the liberty of putting your coins back into your bag.”
She looked at the man and blushed. “Thank you. But … who are you?”
The man laughed. “You fainted during my formal introduction.” He bowed and said, “Benjamin Mendoza, at your service.” A young man in his early twenties, he wore a white cravat tucked into a dark green waistcoat, brown jacket and breeches, white knee-stockings, and riding boots.
Another man stood by the side of the wagon. He held the reins of two horses. Mendoza followed Johanna’s glance. “That is my servant. Clumsy Sam, we call him.”
“Glad to make your acquaintance,” said Sam. He bowed and his hat fell off.
“You can see why we call him that,” said Mendoza, laughing. “But a better man you will not find in all the Netherlands.” Sam retrieved his hat. His large ears were turning a definite shade of red.
“Thank you for helping us, sir,” said Cecile. “My name is Fraulein Hansen. This is Fraulein Richter —”
“Cecile,” said Johanna, blushing. “I must correct you.”
Cecile eyes opened wide in astonishment. “About what?”
Turning towards Mendoza, Johanna said, “My name is Johanna Eisen.”
“I thought it was —” said Cecile.
“I can explain,” Johanna said. But Cecile turned her stony face away. “Cecile,” Johanna repeated. “I’m sorry.”
“I don’t wish to intrude, but the day is growing short,” said Mendoza. “There is a good inn not far away, on the outskirts of Bremen. If you will allow me, I will accompany you there.”
“Thank you,” said Johanna.
Cecile nodded.
“I guess it won’t do no harm,” said Daniel, taking the reins in his hands and clicking his tongue. “My head feels like it’s gonna roll off of my shoulders, my chest feels like the horse stepped on it, and my throat’s dry as a desert.”
— Chapter Eleven —
At the Inn
When they reached the inn, Mendoza rode up to the wagon, tipped his hat, and said, “I must leave you now. The fair is tomorrow and I have wares to sell.”
“You’re a merchant?” Johanna asked. Mendoza nodded.
“Mendoza and Sons, Spice Merchants.” He grinned. “The name of the business was wishful thinking on my father’s part. He hoped for many sons, but alas, I am the only one.”
“Spice merchants?” Johanna felt stupid asking such an obvious question, but longed to hear the sound of this man’s voice again.
“Our motto is, ‘Spices from the Four Corners of the Earth.’” Mendoza bowed again.
“That’s why I smelled spices when I fainted.” Johanna blushed. “When you carried me to the wagon …”
Mendoza smiled. “It would seem that I can never get the smell of spices out of my clothes.”
“I like the smell of spices,” Johanna said, blushing even more.
“Even pepper?”
“Even pepper.”
Mendoza chuckled.
“Thank you for everything, sir,” said Cecile.
“Thank you, indeed,” said Johanna.
“I was glad to be of service.” Mendoza smiled at them once more, then guided his horse away from the wagon. Johanna watched as Clumsy Sam followed his master down the road. Her throat tightened as she watched Mendoza leave.
“You want what?” The woman stood at the door of the inn and blocked their way. Her blue eyes were small and alert, like a bird searching for worms. Wisps of greying hair escaped from her lace cap. She wiped her round face with a soggy handkerchief.
“We need a room for the night,” Johanna said.
“Tonight? You must be joking!” the woman said. “With the fair starting tomorrow and people coming to town from everywhere?” She stood facing them, her hands on her hips. “Impossible.” She began to shut the door.
“Wait!” Johanna said. “I have a baby with me!”
“A baby?” The woman opened the door. “What baby?”
Johanna lifted her cloak, but the baby began to cry when the cold air hit her face. The woman reached over and touched Rebecca’s head. “I always did have a soft heart for a baby,” she said. “I have one small room left. I was saving it for a gentleman, but he hasn’t shown up yet. Likely won’t come before tomorrow, it being so late now. Come in. My name is Frau Hesse. I own this inn.”
Johanna had never felt so dirty and exhausted in her life. Her cheek was throbbing and she badly needed to go to the bathroom.
“Do you want the room?” asked Frau Hesse.
“How much will it be?” Johanna asked.
“Five schillings.”
“We’ll take it,” Johanna said. “Thank you.”
Frau Hesse pointed a finger at Daniel. “You can sleep in the stable, near the horses. It’s warm and dry.”
Daniel nodded. “I’ll be fine sleepin’ with the horses. Won’t be the first time; won’t be the last.”
“Please wait a moment,” said Cecile. “I need to talk to Johanna alone.”
“All right,” said Frau Hesse, shrugging. “Don’t take too long abo
ut it. There’s lots of travellers who’ll be glad to have that room.” She straightened her cap. “I’ll be right back.”
“What’s the matter?” whispered Johanna after Frau Hesse had gone.
Cecile sighed. “I don’t want to talk to you or have anything to do with you, but I don’t have a choice.” She lowered her voice. “Those robbers … took all my money. Will you help me?”
Johanna’s heart sank. She doubted she now had enough money to last the journey. I must have faith. “Don’t worry. I’ll pay for tonight’s lodgings.”
“Thank you.”
“Have you decided then?” asked Frau Hesse, hurrying back. Johanna nodded. “Right. Come with me. And you,” she said, pointing to Daniel, “take your sorry horse to the stable.”
As he led his horse away, Daniel muttered, “Women! They like to order a man around. Make our lives a misery.” He looked back at Frau Hesse with a mixture of admiration and resentment.
The girls followed Frau Hesse through the main room and up a set of narrow stairs.
“I own and run this inn,” she said, “leastways since my poor husband passed away five years ago. From the gout, it was. How the man suffered, I can’t begin to tell you!
“All his joints hurt something awful. His big toes were always throbbing. Many a day he’d have to stay in bed, so bad was the pain. He was a good man, God rest his soul.” She stopped at the top of the stairs and wiped her face. “Ah well, life brings good and bad to us all. We have to make the best of it, that’s what I always say.”
Frau Hesse unlocked the door and stood aside as they walked in. “Here we are.”
The spotless wooden floor gleamed in the light from the candle Frau Hesse was holding. A white pitcher and basin stood on a washstand. A bed with clean linens was set against one wall. A fresh breeze from the river blew in through the open window.
“The girl will bring you water to wash up,” said Frau Hesse. “Come down when you’re ready for supper.” She gazed at Rebecca, who was thrashing about in Johanna’s arms. She sighed. “I had six babies. Five died. God rest their precious souls. Only the boy’s left now.” She smoothed the quilt on the bed. “I must go now. Lots to do. Never a minute’s rest.” She hurried out of the room and shut the door behind her.
Johanna put Rebecca on the bed, took off her cloak, and walked over to Cecile. Putting her hand on Cecile’s shoulder, she said, “Thank you for saying I was brave back there.”
Cecile refused to answer and only shook off Johanna’s hand.
“What’s wrong?” asked Johanna.
“Why did you lie to me again?”
“I had to change my name,” said Johanna. “I thought Frau Taubman wouldn’t give me a job if she knew I was Jewish. So, I had to pretend —”
“And you had to lie to me, too?” Cecile sniffed. “I was your friend.”
Johanna looked down at the floor. “I didn’t know if I could trust you.”
“Obviously.”
“I wanted to,” said Johanna, “but I wasn’t sure.”
“And can you trust me now?”
Johanna hesitated. “I hope so.”
“At least that’s an honest answer.” Cecile sat down on the bed and patted Rebecca’s back. “So, is Eisen your real name? Or is that another lie?”
“It’s my real name. I swear!” Johanna paused. “Cecile? Can’t we be friends again?”
“I don’t know,” said Cecile, shaking her head. “Just … please don’t talk to me for a while. I need to think.” She lay down on the bed and turned her back to Johanna.
As if sensing the anger between the two girls, Rebecca started to cry. Johanna picked her up and tried to distract her by showing her a tree outside the window, gulls flying in the darkening sky, and the long barges on the river. Finally Rebecca stopped crying, with only an occasional hiccup.
Just then, a servant brought in a kettle with warm water. Johanna washed the baby and changed her diaper. She rinsed the soiled diapers and hung them to dry on some hooks on the wall.
The main room was filled with people who were staying at the inn. It looked inviting, as candles flickered on the walls and a fire crackled in the fireplace. When Johanna and Cecile entered the room, Frau Hesse persuaded some people to make room for them at a table near the fire.
“I made this myself,” said Frau Hesse, ladling turnip stew into wooden bowls. Johanna held Rebecca in her lap, mashed the stew with her spoon, blew on it, and fed the baby. She gulped her food down with loud slurping noises.
“Rebecca is just like my brother,” Cecile said, her chin in her hand. “He never takes time to chew, either.”
Johanna let out her breath. At last, Cecile was talking to her. “My little brother and sister were like that, too.”
“If you don’t mind, I’ll sit with you for a minute,” Frau Hesse said. “I need a bit of a break and it’s nice to visit with two young women, instead of the rowdy bunch I usually get.” She sat down hard on the bench beside Cecile. “So, what brings you to Bremen? It’s unusual to see young women travelling alone.”
“We —” Johanna began.
“I have a brother here,” said Cecile. “I’m supposed to meet him.”
“Really?” said Frau Hesse, raising her eyebrows. “Where does he live?”
“Just a minute. I’ve got the address somewhere.” Cecile searched in her bag. “Here.” She held the paper out to Frau Hesse.
“Can’t read,” said Frau Hesse, shrugging. “What does it say?”
“Johanna can read.” Cecile handed the paper to Johanna.
“It says Antoine — that’s her brother — lives at Kolpingstrasse, Number 17.”
“Kolpingstrasse?”
“Do you know where that is?” asked Cecile.
Frau Hesse nodded. “I know Bremen like the back of my hand. That street is just a few blocks from the market square. The Rathaus — that’s the town hall — is there. Nice building, all carved with arches and statues. And St. Peter’s Cathedral. It’s over five hundred years old.” She lowered her voice. “They say there’s a cellar under the cathedral, filled with dried-up corpses.” Her voice returned to normal. “And then there’s the new Schütting, the merchants’ hall. We have a nice town here.”
“So it seems!” Johanna said. Will I ever have a home again? she wondered.
“How can I send a message to my brother?” said Cecile. “I hope … I hope he’s all right.”
Johanna touched Cecile lightly on the arm. “I hope he is, too.” Cecile looked at Johanna with surprise, but didn’t move her arm away.
“Wait a minute.” Frau Hesse stood up, walked towards the kitchen, opened the door and called, “Peter! Come here!” A young boy of about ten years old followed her back to their table. His hair was bright red and freckles were sprinkled all over his face.
“This is my son, Peter,” Frau Hesse said. “This young lady needs a message taken to her brother. To the old part of town.”
“I can take it.” Peter grinned. “Mama, can I ride the horse into town?”
Frau Hesse wagged a finger at Peter. “You’ll go in the morning. I’ll not have you riding in the dark.”
“Yes, Mama!” Peter said, hugging his mother.
“Off, boy! You’re getting me all wet!” Peter moved away but kept grinning at his mother.
“Frau Hesse,” said Johanna. “May I send a message, too?” She was patting Rebecca’s back to help her burp.
“Why not?” Frau Hesse said. “Where to?”
Johanna swallowed hard. “Is there a good doctor in Bremen?”
Frau Hesse looked at Johanna sharply. “What’s wrong? Are you sick?”
“No. I’m just … I’m worried about my baby.”
“She’s a nice baby,” said Peter, putting his finger out for Rebecca to clasp.
“What’s wrong with her?” asked Frau Hesse.
“She’s got a bit of a rash,” said Johanna. “That’s all.” Just then, Rebecca gave a loud belch and grinned, pr
oud of what she’d done.
“Here, let me see.” Frau Hesse held out her arms to the baby. Johanna handed Rebecca to her. Frau Hesse lifted the baby’s dress and looked under her diaper. She examined the baby’s arms and legs, and gently stroked her head.
An awful thought crept into Johanna’s mind as she watched Frau Hesse with the baby.
What if … what if I left Rebecca here with Frau Hesse? She seems like a good woman. She would take care of her. She would feed and clothe her. She would be kind to her. Then I’d be free to continue the journey alone. I could go to Amsterdam, get a job, and send for Mama. She tried to brush the thought away, but she felt like an insect caught in the sticky strands of a spider’s web.
No! I can’t abandon Rebecca — now or ever. She took a big breath and clenched her fists. I must do the right thing. That is what freedom means. To make the right choice.
“She doesn’t look very sick to me,” said Frau Hesse, smiling at the baby and handing her back to Johanna. “But if you want a good doctor, Doctor Weiss is best for sick children.
“Why, I remember when Peter was a baby. Such a bad case of the croup he had. Couldn’t stop coughing for a day and a night. We were afraid he wouldn’t survive. But the doctor fixed him up real good. And look at him now.” She stopped to take a breath and put an arm around her son. “Peter, you know where Doctor Weiss lives, don’t you?”
“Yes, Mama.”
“Good. You’ll take a message to the doctor, too.”
“I’ll write it as soon as I put the baby to sleep,” Johanna said. She held Rebecca in her arms and rocked her gently. She hummed Mama’s lullaby.
Sleep, little baby, safely sleep.
The birds are singing in the woods.
They sing and hop in the grass so green.
They’ll bring the baby something good.
Rebecca’s eyes started to close as she cuddled into the warmth of Johanna’s body. Johanna felt comforted by the trust Rebecca had in her.
“Good. It’s settled,” said Frau Hesse. “Now boy, back to work.” She pinched Peter on the cheek.