Hunger Winter

by Rob Currie

  “Let him go!” Papa said. “I’m the one you want.”

  “He should have stayed out of the way,” Adler said, breathing hard. “Drop the knife,” he hissed, reinforcing his message by increasing the pressure on Dirk’s throat. Dirk groaned and tried to reach back and grab Adler’s hair, but the powerful man easily avoided the flailing attempt.

  “Papa,” Dirk gasped. His arms fell to his sides.

  Papa’s face was grim as he dropped the knife at Adler’s feet.

  “Now let him go!” Papa said.

  Still behind Dirk, Adler turned to reach the knife on the floor. He released his right arm from Dirk’s neck but maintained pressure with his left arm. A cold wave of fear washed over Dirk. Once Adler had the knife, he’d be in complete control. Papa must’ve felt he had no choice. Dirk had to try one more time. He tugged at the choke hold and tried to bite the arm pressed against his throat, but his oxygen-deprived body had little strength. His eyes bulged. His air depleted, Dirk’s arms hung limp at his sides.

  “Don’t move,” Adler warned Papa before he bent over slowly and steadily to pick up the knife. When his head was level with Papa’s waist, he lunged to grasp the weapon.

  At that instant, Papa swung his foot up and connected solidly with the side of Adler’s head. Stunned, the Gestapo officer staggered backward and loosened his grip on Dirk’s neck. The knife clattered to the floor. Dirk twisted free, stumbled forward, gasped for air, and rubbed his neck. Papa thrust a leg behind Adler and pushed him over. Before he could recover, Papa flipped him and twisted his arm behind his back.

  Footsteps echoed in the hall.

  “We’re in here!” Papa called out. Four Dutch policemen climbed through the hole in the door and tied Adler up. They took a statement from Papa.

  Adler gave Papa a steely glare. When Papa finished talking to the police, Adler said, “I’ll find you again and finish you.”

  Papa took two steps toward the would-be assassin. He returned his stare and said firmly, “I don’t think so.” Then the police took Adler away.

  “Dirk!” Papa clasped him in his arms.

  “You beat him! You outsmarted him, Papa! And I can’t believe I found you,” Dirk said as they hugged. His eyes glistened.

  Papa stepped back and looked at Dirk from arm’s length.

  “You’re taller, and your voice is lower,” he said. He leaned forward and grinned. “And you scared Adler, before he saw who you were. He thought you were the police.” Papa chuckled.

  Dirk gave a shy smile. “I was afraid my voice would crack. It still does sometimes.”

  Papa smiled. “It sounded like a man’s voice to me.”

  Dirk beamed.

  After a comfortable silence, Dirk shifted. “I have to tell you something.”

  “Go ahead.”

  He frowned. “I was so scared when you put the knife where Adler could reach it. Now I know why you did it. But right when it happened, I didn’t understand.”

  “I’m sorry I frightened you, Dirk. I saw the look on your face. But I had to do it to make him let his guard down. Sometimes you have to take a chance—”

  “Because it’s the only chance you’ve got,” Dirk said. Then he grinned. “You got him good with your foot!” He paused. “I’ve been trying so hard to find you, Papa, because the Gestapo took Els when we were still in Oosterbeek.”

  Papa’s face grew pale. “So Adler wasn’t lying about capturing Els.” He shook his head. “When did it happen?”

  “It was just before Anna and I left to go to Tante Cora’s, so November 11. Can you find her and figure out a way to get her free?”

  Papa narrowed his eyes. “I will do everything I can.”

  “I know you will, Papa.” Dirk nodded a few times. “Oh, and do you know Colonel Klaus Fleischer? He’s a German officer who deserted his army. He helped us get here, but I can’t figure him out. When I asked him why he helped us, he wouldn’t tell me, but he said you would know.”

  Papa’s eyebrows shot up. “Klaus Fleischer helped you?”

  Dirk nodded. “Do you know him?”

  NEAR ROTTERDAM

  The wagon driver with a load of manure steered onto a side road in a rural area near Rotterdam. A few minutes later, the driver directed the wagon onto a farm and into a barn with a large open door. The driver left the barn, slid the door shut, and walked to the house. An elderly man opened the door. Once inside, the driver removed the wool hat, revealing shoulder-length blonde hair.

  “Els Ingelse?” the man cried. “I thought Willem was going to deliver the manure.”

  “We pulled one over on the Germans. Willem drove the wagon into Rotterdam and pretended it broke down in front of the house where I was staying. He put on a good show.” She smiled. “He pretended to be furious with the broken wheel, and he walked up to the house to borrow tools. I was waiting inside the house, near the door, dressed just like him. After he stepped inside, I walked outside and went through the motions of fixing the wagon.”

  The man let out a slow whistle. “Did you have any problems?”

  “Only one. He wore a green wool hat, and I couldn’t walk out wearing my brown one because there were eyes on the house. So we traded hats. That’s why this one is too big for me,” she added with a sheepish grin.

  “Were you afraid?” he asked.

  She shook her head. “I was too mad at the Nazis to be afraid.”

  He nodded. “So you’re on the run. What’s next?”

  “I have to get out of Rotterdam. I’ll go to my oma and opa’s house in Nijmegen. And then I have to find out where Dirk and Anna are.”

  “How will you get there?” the man objected. “I don’t have a car, and I don’t know anyone who does.”

  “Then I’ll have to ride a bicycle,” Els said.

  “But Nijmegen’s more than one hundred kilometers away!”

  “Then I better get started.” She reached over and patted him on the shoulder. “Keep your hopes up and your prayers strong.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  ST. STEPHEN’S CHURCH

  NIJMEGEN

  “YOU KNOW, when I was your age,” Papa said, “I attended a boarding school near the German border.”

  “Uh-huh,” Dirk said.

  Papa eased into a chair, and Dirk sat on the edge of one of the desks.

  “Fleischer and I attended the same school. He was a year ahead of me.”

  Dirk’s jaw dropped.

  “He was the school bully, and I was his favorite target.”

  This news blew away any good feelings Dirk had developed toward Fleischer, the way a hurricane wipes out a cottage.

  “That’s when my interest in wrestling started, because I had to find a way to defend myself.” Papa rubbed his chin. “Klaus made my life miserable for months. Then once I got good at wrestling, he stopped fighting me. But one day he tried a new strategy.”

  Lines formed on Dirk’s forehead. “What happened?”

  “He tried to push me in front of an oncoming train.”

  “What?!” Dirk shot to his feet.

  “The train was some distance away, and I’m sure he only meant to scare me. He probably assumed I would have time to scramble out of the way.” Papa paused. “But out of the corner of my eye, I saw him sneak up on me, and I stepped aside at the last second. He lost his balance and fell off the platform onto the track below.”

  Dirk scowled. “It serves him right.”

  “He hit his head on the rail and lay unconscious in the path of the oncoming train.”

  “Oh!”

  “The crowd yelled at Klaus to get out of the way, and the oncoming train blasted its horn. But when Klaus didn’t respond, I jumped down and pulled him out of the way.”

  “You saved his life!”

  “He never said anything about the incident, but he never bullied me again.”

  “I knew it! I knew there was a good reason to not trust him.” Dirk paced the room. “Do you think he helped Anna and me as a way of rep
aying you?”

  “Yes.”

  “But Papa, please don’t tell Anna why Fleischer helped us!” Dirk pleaded. “She’ll bug me forever about that, since she kept telling me that he was nice. You know how Anna can be.”

  Papa smiled again. “It’ll be our secret.” He reached over and patted Dirk on the shoulder.

  Dirk sat on the desk again. “I have another question. Can a dream have a warning message?”

  “Why do you ask?”

  “I had a dream about Mama.”

  Papa’s smile faded.

  “She warned me in a dream that I shouldn’t let anyone know who I am or who you are.” He looked up at the ceiling as he spoke. “In another dream, Fleischer attacked me and boasted about the eagle pin he wore. So I figured the dreams were warnings about him, but then he helped us. And a lady who tried to kidnap us wore an eagle pin just like the one in the dream with Fleischer.” He lowered his gaze to meet Papa’s. “So were the dreams warnings?”

  “Maybe,” Papa said. “You said that dream included an eagle.”

  “Yes.”

  “How good is your German?” Papa asked.

  “Okay, I guess. Why?”

  “The man who tried to kill me today is named ‘Adler,’ which is the German word for ‘eagle.’”

  Dirk’s mouth hung open.

  “Really? Wow.” After a long silence, Dirk said, “I have another question. How do you still believe in God when so many bad things have happened?”

  “Let me ask you a question. Why did you keep that stone I sent you?”

  “It was from you. I held the stone sometimes when things got really bad. It meant you love us, and you’d come back to us as soon as you could. Oh, and Anna loves the ribbon you sent her.”

  Papa smiled. “That’s how Christians are. We love the cross because it’s a sign that even when things get really bad, Christ loves us and he’s coming back.”

  “Hmm,” Dirk said. “I never thought about it like that before.” A brief silence followed.

  Father and son talked for another hour as Dirk related the adventures and difficulties he and Anna had experienced in recent weeks.

  Finally Papa checked his watch. “Oh. You’d better go back to the house. Oma and Opa will be worried. Tell them what happened and that I’m here.”

  “Aren’t you coming with me?”

  “I’ll come in a few minutes. It’s obviously not safe for me to be here in Nijmegen. Adler’s probably not the only one who knows I’m here. Whoever sent him could send someone else after me.”

  Dirk took a step back. “What are you going to do?”

  “I’m going to arrange to take you and Anna someplace safe. Right now I have to go to my office to gather some things that I’ll need for our trip and leave notes for the other church staff.”

  As Papa walked down the hall to his office, Dirk went to the sanctuary, retrieved his stone, and walked across the street.

  When he entered the house, Oma rushed up to him. “Are you all right?”

  “Did something happen?” Opa asked.

  “I’ll tell you, but where’s Anna? I don’t want her to hear,” Dirk whispered.

  “She’s taking a bath, and she’s headed for an early bedtime. What happened to you?” Oma said with a worried look. She stabilized herself by gripping a nearby bookcase. Opa stepped closer to Dirk.

  Dirk told them that the pastor was really Papa in disguise and that he would be coming over in a few minutes. Oma and Opa exclaimed in surprise. Dirk also recounted Adler’s appearance and the fight, though he left out most of the details. Oma and Opa listened intently and asked a lot of questions.

  Fifteen minutes into the conversation, Anna, now in her pajamas, walked into the room. She waved a finger in Dirk’s face. “Where were you? You were supposed to play hide-and-go-seek with me,” she said.

  “He took some food to the pastor, and he stayed to talk,” Opa said.

  Thanks, Opa.

  “And as for you, young lady,” Opa said, turning his gaze toward Anna, “it’s your bedtime.”

  “But I don’t want to go to bed.”

  “Listen,” Oma said as she led Anna toward the stairs. “Only three more days until December 5.”

  Anna’s face lit up. “Sinterklaas!” she exclaimed.

  “That’s right,” Oma said. “We’ll leave out the wooden shoes for him. What kind of presents and treats do you think he’ll bring us?”

  “Ohhh!” Anna said with eyes nearly as big as stroopwafels. She threw her arms around Oma’s waist and held tight.

  “Now, it won’t do if Sinterklaas comes and finds out you haven’t been going to bed on time,” Oma said as she walked up the stairs and motioned for Anna to follow. “Maybe his helper, Zwarte Piet, is listening at our chimney right now to find out if you’re being good.” Anna gasped, shot a look at the fireplace, and scampered up the steps. Since Dirk had been involved in Anna’s bedtime routine every night for the past few months, he followed Anna up the stairs in case she asked for him.

  Before lying down, she tried and failed to tie the orange ribbon in her hair.

  “Let’s put a rubber band around some of your pretty hair,” Oma said. “Then I’ll tie the ribbon in a bow, and you can pull it tight. Can you do that?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  She turned Anna toward the mirror. Anna tugged on the ribbon, and on the third try, the bow held.

  “There,” Anna said. “I did it all by myself.”

  Oma fought back a smile.

  Oma pulled the covers up to Anna’s chin and patted the top blanket. She sat on the edge of the bed and closed her eyes. “Dear God, please bring Papa and Els to us. Thank you that Dirk and Anna are here. Amen.”

  She and Dirk walked to the door but stopped when Anna stirred.

  “Oma,” Anna said with a yawn, “you forgot to thank God for Sinterklaas.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  TEN MINUTES AFTER Anna went to sleep, someone knocked on the front door. Oma rushed to the front of the house, Opa and Dirk close behind, and threw the door open. She looked at the bearded man on the porch and cried, “Hans!” He stepped into her embrace. Opa and Dirk joined them, and the four of them formed a hugging family circle.

  “Opa and Oma,” Dirk said. “I guess Sinterklaas brought our present a little early.”

  “Oh,” Oma exclaimed. “You have to tell Anna. She’s missed you so much.”

  “I would love to, but let her sleep for now. I’m still in danger, and I have to make arrangements to get out of the country. We’ll likely leave before dawn,” he said.

  Oma cocked her head slightly to the side. “But Dirk said the police arrested that man who attacked you.”

  “Yes. But whoever sent him could send someone else.”

  A chill went up Dirk’s spine. He tried not to think about what someone like that would do to Papa.

  “May I use your telephone?” Papa asked.

  “Of course,” Oma said.

  An hour later, Papa hung up the telephone, walked to the living room, and sat down.

  “At three in the morning, someone’s coming to pick up Dirk, Anna, and me. Dirk, let’s wear our clothes to bed, so we can leave quickly.” Turning to Oma and Opa, he said, “Soldiers will be stationed at your house around the clock to be sure that whoever’s looking for me doesn’t try to harm you.”

  Oma’s eyes grew wide. “Are you sure we’ll be safe? You make these enemies sound formidable.”

  “Yes, you’ll be in good hands. I made sure of it.”

  “You should get Sergeant Michaels to come here. Nobody would mess with him,” Dirk said.

  Oma and Opa smiled.

  “When our ride comes, where will we go?” Dirk asked.

  “A driver will take us to Belgium, where we’ll stay with friends.”

  “But what about Els, Papa? Shouldn’t we stay here to find her?” Dirk asked.

  “Once we get to Belgium, I’ll make sure you and Anna are safe. Then I’ll co
me back to find Els. But in the meantime, let’s keep our hopes up and our prayers strong.” He rubbed his chin. “I’ll sleep in the living room tonight until I hear the signal—two quick knocks, a pause, and then a third knock. Then we’ll leave, and the soldiers will come and stay here.” He stood. “Get some sleep. Tomorrow will be a very good day but a long one.”

  Oma and Opa headed to their bedroom in the back of the house. Dirk walked up the stairs to his room.

  Papa went up to Anna’s room. The half moon outside gave a little light through the sheer window shade. A limp form lay on the bed, nestled under the covers.

  “Oh, Anna.” His voice cracked. “I’ve missed you so much.” He stared at her face, which was the only part of her sticking out from the blankets. My feisty Anna. He kissed her lightly on the top of her head. He touched the orange ribbon in her hair with his fingertip and wiped his eyes with the back of his hand.

  “Anna and Dirk are here, but where’s Els?” he whispered. “Dear God, bring her back to us.” He took a long, deep breath, exhaled slowly, and left the room.

  When he reached the first floor, he walked to the living room and said to himself, “I might as well make it easier for Anna to recognize me.” He walked to the bathroom and shaved his beard. Then he returned to the living room, pulled a blanket off a chair, and lay down on the floor.

  At 1:45 a.m. Otto Adler rose from his recliner, walked to a nearby table, and picked up a sheet of paper with handwriting on it. He scanned the page and set it back on the table. “Johann went to kill Ingelse but didn’t come back,” he said to the empty room. He pounded the wall with his fist. “I bet the Dutchman outsmarted him and suckered him into talking. I told Johann not to talk! Just shoot him! But he never listens to his older brother,” he growled. “I won’t make that mistake.”

  He made a phone call.

  “You ready? Good. I’ll be there at 2:20.” He reached for the sheet of paper. “Yes, I’m going to go over it again.”

  He listened.