A Daring Escape

by Tricia Goyer

  The man listened to her words, and at first it seemed he didn’t understand. His eyes moved from her face to Ondřej and then to Klára, and then his eyes brightened. With a sigh he took a step forward and kneeled before the children. He took Ondřej’s hand in one of his and Klára’s in the other.

  “Oh, you have such a good mother, yes? It is clear she loves you so much. I imagine you have faced so many hard things—”

  The door opened behind her, cutting off the man’s words. Emil looked up in surprise, and she turned to see the man she’d first met outside in the foyer area—Marek, she supposed. He was the one who’d let them in.

  Marek approached and placed a hand on Klára’s shoulder as he looked to his friend. “This poor woman and her children have had a difficult trip here. I know you said not to let anyone else inside, but wasn’t it just this morning that another mother came and removed her two children off the list? Surely these two can take their place.”

  Emil’s eyes narrowed at Marek, and his displeasure was clear. “It is not your position, friend, to make those decisions.”

  “A maybe is better than a no, correct? Imagine if you were in their place.”

  Emil sighed and stood. “Yes, but we will have to find sponsors for them. And there is paperwork. It’s not easy to just replace two names with two others.”

  Marek didn’t budge, didn’t back away. He calmly stroked Klára’s hair.

  Pavla didn’t speak. She closed her eyes and held her breath, waiting—praying. She heard Emil release a frustrated sigh and then opened her eyes, fixing them on him. “I will do anything,” she said again.

  “Perhaps we should get photos today,” Marek cut in. “With beautiful children like these, finding a sponsor should not be a problem.”

  Emil ignored Marek and looked to her. His gaze narrowed on Pavla’s, and then he lifted an eyebrow. “I know what you say is true. I know you will do whatever it takes to save your children. The problem is what I can do…”

  With the slightest movement, Pavla turned her ring so that her rubies faced out, glimmering in the light. Emil spotted the ring, and even though he attempted to hide his interest, she saw it on his face.

  Over the last few months she’d used most of the money Abram had left her to buy food and supplies, but she’d saved her wedding ring for such a time as today. For such an opportunity as this.

  He nodded once in acknowledgment. “And your husband?” the man asked as she turned the rubies back around.

  “Dead.” Her voice was no more than a whisper. “They took him on Kristallnacht.”

  “I see.”

  Emil placed his hand on the American’s shoulder and squeezed it gently. She looked up at him and offered a weary smile. There was a tenderness in her gaze, yet for some reason seeing it caused a heavy rock to grow in Pavla’s stomach. This woman cared for this man, she could see, but just from the few moments she knew him, Pavla questioned whether Emil could be trusted.

  He said something in English, and the woman released a heavy sigh, answering him.

  The young woman looked at Pavla and smiled. “Beautiful children. Krásné děti,” she said in Czech, and then she went back to the work at hand.

  “Amity is in charge here. She says we can add you to the list, but there are no guarantees. Surely you understand. Since a woman took two children off this list, we can add them. This is highly unusual but…” He didn’t continue, and Pavla understood. He wants my ring. He won’t ask for it now, but he wants it.

  “Yes, I understand, but if I know their names are on the list…” Overwhelming joy flooded her heart. “That is all I ask for.”

  Emil nodded. “They will be. For that you have my word.” Then he motioned to a gray metal desk. “Please come, sit. There is paperwork we need you to fill out.”

  She followed him, and only then did she look to her children to see their response. Klára was smiling, but Ondřej wore a frown. They were both so well behaved. She only hoped this man liked what he saw. That he’d remember them. She only hoped their future mother would see their picture and…

  The tears came then, but she quickly blinked them away. She refused to let them flow. Not here, not now. She had to stay strong for these children and for this man.

  Pavla swallowed down her emotion and sat in the wooden chair. She picked up the fountain pen and only then realized her hand was shaking. Ondřej stood beside her, straight and tall as a soldier, no doubt understanding the importance of behaving. And young Klára curled next to her side. “Maminka, I’m thirsty.”

  “Shh. After we finish here we can get you something.”

  Emil rose. “I will get some water.”

  “Danke,” she said and watched as he walked away. And for the briefest moment, as she watched him pouring a cup of water from a pitcher on the back table, she wondered if she’d been mistaken concerning him. Maybe he was just like the rest of them, struggling with his place in all this and weary over not being able to do enough.

  She filled out the paperwork and turned it over to him.

  “We need photos of the children. If you will follow me to the next room.”

  They took a photo of Ondřej first, and thankfully he smiled. But as Klára stood before the desk she pouted. “I do not like this dress, Maminka. I want my red party dress for my photo.”

  “I’m sorry, Klára, we cannot go get your red dress. We left it in Olomouc, remember?”

  “I want to go get it.” Klára stomped her foot.

  “Not today. But…” She clapped her hands together, trying to distract her daughter. “Remember the large clock I told you I would take you to see? After your picture, we can walk there.”

  Klára folded her arms over her chest so her dress could not be seen, but at least she smiled for the photo.

  Pavla did not know whether to laugh or cry as she left the building. Her children were on the list, but she had no idea where to go now or what to do. They had brought their carpetbag and suitcases with them. It had been too risky to leave their things unattended, especially in desperate times such as these, but it was getting late, and she had no way to get back to the refugee center.

  Dear God, if You can help me find a way…

  Her children were on the list. She had done it. They had traveled so far. Maybe soon they would be safe. As hard as it would be to let them go, at least they would be well cared for and far away from the Nazis’ threat.

  Her hands tightened around her children’s, and her mind moved to the next problem. She said they would go to the clock, but they needed food first. Surely every café around Old Town Square would be expensive. She decided to walk in the opposite direction to find a small market stall instead.

  Pavla was turning the corner onto a busier street when she heard quickened footsteps behind her. She tightened her grip on her children’s hands.

  “Ma’am?” a voice called from behind.

  She turned. “Yes?” And then she remembered. The ring. He wants my ring.

  It was Emil. His cheeks were red, flushed. “If you do not have a place to go, may I suggest one? There is an old school that we’ve converted into housing. We just got permission to use it so we can better gather people together for our transports. It isn’t much, but we have a few extra cots, and after tomorrow—when the next train goes out—you will have the whole place nearly to yourself…until we start gathering people for a new transport, that is.”

  She nodded as he spoke and then waited, waited for him to ask for the ring. Or to ask for anything else he might require. But the man said nothing else.

  “You say we can stay there for free?” She placed emphasis on the last word.

  “Yes. I thought it would be one less thing to worry about. Unless you have someplace else to go, of course. I saw you listed no address on your paperwork.”

  She offered Emil a cautious smile. “We don’t have anywhere to stay. Anything would be helpful. We don’t need much, a place to lay our heads. A little food.”

&nbs
p; “We do what we can. And we can point you to other places to get food too.” He pulled out a slip of paper with an address. “And when will you come?”

  “Today. We will come tonight.”

  “I will tell them to be expecting you.” Then, with a glance and a smile to the children, he walked away.

  TWENTY-FIVE

  Prague, Czechoslovakia

  Thursday, February 23, 1939

  Amity reached over and took Clark’s hand as they stood side by side on the train’s platform. A line of children stood in a long row—173 of them. Each wore a label, prepared by her helpers, tied around their necks. Adventure shone in their gazes. Their parents had said their goodbyes, and most of the children had no idea of the reason for their journey. “A happy adventure,” their mothers had told them. “Nice people will care for you, and I will join you soon.”

  Everything was ready for their journey. Sack lunches had been stored on the train in large boxes. Amity, Clark, and Madeline had awakened early and had spent a happy hour packing food in Madeline’s kitchen for the children. Then they had hired a taxi to take the food to Wilson Station.

  The children’s luggage had been packed in the belly of the train. Each child had two labels on their suitcases—one sticker stating the station they were leaving from and another stating the one they’d be arriving at.

  Amity thought of all that was packed inside those suitcases: shirts, pants, dresses, socks…love. All the love a parent could pack for the journey. Only love would make such a sacrifice. Sending their child away was the hardest part, trusting that others would provide the love and care they needed.

  Amity was thankful to have Clark with her in Madeline’s house. As he had been in London, he was a gentleman in every way. He also came upon more ideas for his novel each day. Amity fell asleep at night as the pounding of typewriter keys drifted up from the kitchen bedroom. That was always a good sign.

  Standing next to her at the train station, he placed his hand on her back. With a friendly smile, she marked off each name as the child passed and boarded the train.

  The line of labeled children represented many hours of work and just as many hours of prayers. Then she marked off the names of the adult workers. One woman—a Londoner who’d come to accompany the children on their journey—paused before her and opened her arms for a hug. Amity offered her one.

  Clark grabbed the woman’s hand and gave it a firm shake. “Have a safe journey, and thank you for caring for the children.”

  Immediately the woman’s face brightened. “It’s my honor. I am certain the children will be just fine. It is an exciting adventure, after all.” Then with quick steps she hurried into the train car and found a seat next to a cluster of young girls.

  When the last child entered, Amity released a breath. “I cannot believe this is happening. I cannot believe these mothers have trusted us with their children’s lives. It is such a huge responsibility.”

  “It’s your smile, Amity, that puts these mothers at ease. They needed someone here like you. Andrew is a wise man. He made a good choice. Since they trust you, they feel they can trust the families who are waiting. Your smile is saving these children’s lives.”

  Seeing the children onto the train was the easy part. Harder had been watching the goodbyes of the parents—mostly mothers. All of them arrived with brave faces, but Amity took note of their splotchy skin and red-rimmed eyes. Had they slept at all last night, knowing that it would be the last time they would see their child for a long time—most likely years, if not forever?

  Amity placed a hand over her heart, suddenly longing for Celia. At least she knew Celia was safe and happy. She had no doubt that she would see her again.

  Clark stood with a hand on her shoulder as she watched the goodbyes. Madeline stood next to her too, listening to the mothers’ words.

  “Watch your brother.”

  “Try to stay together.”

  “Be a good boy and girl. I will write and think of you. I will be coming for you very soon.”

  “See, this is a good and kind woman. She and her friends will take you to England.”

  One small girl, with dark hair in a perfectly neat pony tail and blue bow, clung to her mother’s waist. “Maminka, no. Do not make me go. I promise to be good. I promise never to be bad again. I won’t cry anymore for my things back home. I promise.”

  Hearing the girl’s pleas broke her heart, and Amity looked at the mother’s face. Her eyes were wide, frantic. Amity saw the woman needed help, lest she take her daughter’s hand, turn, and walk away. Yet the great love the mother had for her child led to this moment. It was loving enough to realize that her child was safer in the arms of another.

  Amity called Madeline to her and asked her to translate.

  “Let me see what I can do,” Amity whispered, with Madeline translating. She wiped a stray tear from her own face and then leaned down.

  Amity reached her hand out to the young girl. “I know it’s hard to leave your mother. Would you like me to go with you to line up with the children? They are nice boys and girls. I know you will find friends.”

  The small girl hesitated. Finally, with a sad smile, small fingers wrapped around Amity’s larger ones.

  “Ready?”

  The young girl gave the slightest nod and then released her mother’s hand. They moved forward, and Amity turned to tell the girl’s mother that all would be fine, but the woman had already turned and rushed away. Amity understood. If she did not leave the girl now, maybe she never would.

  Government officials checked all their paperwork, and then sooner than expected, the train pulled away. Amity heaved a sigh as she watched it leave. They’d done it. All those children would soon be safe in England.

  She stood at the station for another fifteen minutes, making sure the train didn’t return for any reason. Looking around, she noticed Madeline was already gone. After getting a cup of coffee inside the station, she and Clark caught a taxi.

  The office was strangely quiet when they entered, and then she heard voices in the back. It was Emil and Madeline. She wondered if it was a repeat of the conversation they’d had on that dark street a few weeks ago, if that had indeed been Emil in that group of men.

  With quiet steps she moved to the back office. Clark followed. She paused outside the door, and it was Emil’s voice she heard.

  “I do not know why you are so upset. They made it on, did they not?”

  “Yes, Emil, but they have not got to the border yet. It is a risk you should not have taken. It could have ruined—”

  Not able to stand by and eavesdrop any longer, Amity opened the door and rushed in. “What is this?” She looked to Madeline. “You have to tell me. What’s going on.”

  Madeline pointed a shaking finger toward Emil. “It is him. You should be thankful, Amity, that the train left at all.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Emil turned his back on her, running his hand through his hair. “Everything is fine. She didn’t even need to know.” Then he turned around and looked at Clark.

  Amity was confused. She turned to Clark, standing next to her. “Do you know anything about this?”

  “Me?” Clark laughed. “Why would I know anything about this?”

  Emil crossed his arms over his chest with a huff and leaned against the wall. “All right. If you have to know, I snuck two adults onto the transport.”

  Amity’s mouth dropped open. Her eyelashes fluttered. “What?”

  “They were two artists. They’d already been arrested by the Germans in the Sudetenland, and we managed to get them out of jail there.” He flung his hands into the air. “I promise you, Amity, if we did not get them out of the country they would have been the first to be rounded up and sent to a camp. Or worse, killed.”

  Arms quivering, she stepped forward. “Artists? What do you mean by artists?”

  “Jewish artists.” He shook his head. “They are very well known, which is exactly what Hitler hates. You would
know them—”

  She raised her hand. “Please do not tell me. The less I know, the better.” She pressed her fingers to her forehead. “I do not want to know their names. I do not want to know how you managed to get them out. I assume you sent them as adult leaders but…no, please do not tell me.”

  Amity turned back to Clark, who was being strangely silent. She eyed him closer. “And do you have anything to say?”

  Clark looked to her, and again she could see the wheels turning in his head. Instead of the anger she felt, she could sense excitement in his gaze. “Can I tell you my guess? How I plan to write this into my novel?”

  As much as she didn’t want to, Amity couldn’t help but smile at his lighthearted take on the situation. She placed a hand on her hip. “Well, tell me, Mr. Cartwright, how are you going to write this into your novel?”

  “My character is going to add two extra children to the sanctioned list. They will have forged papers, of course, but no one will need to know this.” He glanced from Madeline to Emil and then back to her again. “Then, when the names are transposed to the final forms—filled out at the train station—with the final total number of refugees leaving, I would make a ‘mistake’ and have only the passport numbers and names listed for two of the children—ages omitted. No one will notice at the station, and no one would care about the ages of the adults at the border.”

  Nodding, she turned and strode to the door. She placed her hand onto the doorknob and paused. Part of her wanted to be mad at them for doing this behind her back, but the other part of her understood. What would she do to save a life? Would she bend the rules? She wasn’t sure.

  Amity cleared her throat. “I don’t need to know if that’s how it was done or not. Let us just say that this is a fictional plot idea we were discussing.” She opened the door again, urging herself to remain calm. She had to remember that lives were at stake. She had to remember all the time both Madeline and Emil had given to this cause. No one would have left the station today if it hadn’t been for them.