The officer slowly scanned the truck from left to right with his light. Lara hunched down as the circular beam traveled close to where she hid. It reminded her of the night her family fled Salzburg, when all nine of them crouched behind garbage bins and bales of hay as they made their way through the villages toward the mountains. The parallel between then and now was eerie, and the hairs on her arms stood on end at comparing the two. There was only one significant difference: this time she was alone. No protective father or comforting mother for guidance. She’d felt safe with them—now, not so much.
The ray from the flashlight crossed the front of the bag where she hid. Lara held her breath, making herself small, scared to let even a wisp of air from her lips. Squeezing her eyes shut, she pictured Erich. This was for him. She had to be as still as possible.
“What’d you say was in the bags?” the officer’s gruff words penetrated the silence.
“Grains,” Hans replied. “Mostly wheat. Some corn.”
“Hmm.”
Lara couldn’t see anything, but she didn’t like the tone of the officer’s voice.
“You don’t have any jewels in those bags, do ya?”
“Jewels? No. Like I said, it’s all dry goods from a farm a couple hours back.”
“Well, we’ve heard that story before. Seen lots of fellas like you acting all innocent, but really trying to pull one past us.”
“I’m telling you officer, I don’t have jewels—or anything else—in this truck.”
“Gonna have to see for myself, I’m afraid.”
Lara heard a click, and then the violent rip of fabric. The officer plunged his pocket knife into the burlap, slashing it open. Mustard-colored kernels spilled from the opening like blood from a wound.
“Hey! I’m supposed to deliver that!” Hans protested.
“Quiet!” The officer barked his commands. He tore open another sack and Lara heard the tiny grains ping off the aluminum floor.
“Please, Sir! I won’t get paid if my shipment is ruined!”
“Jürgen, leave it be.” Another man’s voice rose through the dark, calm and steady.
“Ah, I’m just havin’ a little fun,” Jürgen said as he slashed a third bag. As the wheat cascaded to the floor, a plume of dust rose in the truck. Lara put her hand over her mouth to keep from coughing.
“C’mon. That’s enough.”
“You’re goin’ soft on me, Walter.” Jürgen stepped back from the door, sheathing his knife. He turned to Hans, who stood helplessly watching his precious supply trickle over the tailgate to the gravel below. “You’re free to go.”
The two officers turned toward their booth, chuckling cruelties.
“Bastards,” Hans muttered, as he pushed handfuls of grain back into the bags.
“What did you say?” Jürgen’s voice boomed from a yard away.
“Nothing. I didn’t say anything.”
Jürgen was on him in three long strides. The barrel of his pistol whipped Hans above the right eyebrow.
“Don’t you ever speak that way to a German officer. Next time, you won’t be so lucky.”
Lara didn’t dare move. She wished she could help Hans, but fear kept her frozen. The sound of footsteps leaving told her the officers were gone. Hans said not a word. A minute later, the door slammed shut and she once again found herself surrounded by pitch blackness.
Twenty-One
The minutes felt like hours as the truck pushed forward into Switzerland. They had to be nearing the drop-off point. When Elias had arranged for her secret passage, Hans agreed to take Lara as far as he could without deviating from his route.
“I’ll help,” he’d said. “Happy to. But I can’t drop her off on her front doorstep. If I’m not on time, it’d draw suspicion.”
“That’s fine,” Elias said. Then to Lara, “You might have to walk a bit.”
“I’ll manage,” she said.
Hans filled in the details. “I’m heading directly to Geneva, so you’ll have to find your way north to Zürich.”
Without another option, she agreed. “Okay.”
Now, bouncing along with the movement of the rig, Lara thought about reuniting with her family. How would she explain everything to her parents? Would they accept her back, or shun her as a dishonorable pariah? Her stomach twisted at the possibility.
Remorse and shame took up permanent residence in her brain—making themselves cozy and not showing any signs of leaving. All she could do was pray for forgiveness.
Pushing the doubts to the back of her mind, Lara refocused. There’d be no chance for redemption if she didn’t make it home at all. Let’s take it one step at a time.
The truck slowed, the tires rolling to the brim of the road. As it jerked to a stop, Lara braced herself against the burlap. Her heartbeat quickened again. Was this her stop? Or had they been intercepted by more patrollers?
She crouched lower and bit her bottom lip. The back door opened. Outside, the crimson tail lights blended with the night sky to create a maroon hue, which illuminated the silhouette of a man. His arm held the door ajar.
“Psst,” a raspy voice hissed. “Girl!”
Lara peeked her head above the bag.
“Come on,” Hans said. “Time to go.”
Lara stood and was relieved to see, not a Nazi officer, but a short, stocky man in overalls. She grabbed her bag and pushed through the sacks of grain until she reached the exit. Hans extended a hand to help her down. As her feet hit the gravel, she looked around. They were on the side of a back road. The headlights of the truck illuminated farmlands in either direction.
“Where are we?” Lara asked. Without any identifying landmarks, she couldn’t be sure she was even in the right country. Had Hans taken her where he’d said? It occurred to her that she’d taken him for his word—but could he be trusted? Hans could have driven north or south instead of west. She could be in Italy for all she knew.
“Lucerne,” Hans replied. “I went out of my way as much as I could, but I’m afraid this is as close to Zürich as I can get. You’re about twenty miles south.”
Lara relaxed her tightened shoulders. He seemed genuine. But then again, she didn’t have the best track record for detecting fraud.
Lara shook her head, and Hans continued. “We’re on a side street, but if you take the next turn up ahead, it will lead you back toward the main roads. Head due north, and when you reach the lake, follow the bank and it will take you directly to Zürich.”
She nodded along with his directions even though fear was setting in. She’d never been out on her own like this in an unfamiliar place. Twenty miles? It would take hours to get home. And what if she took a wrong turn or got lost?
“How do I know which direction is north?”
“See that star?” He pointed to the sky where one star burned brighter than the rest.
“Yes.”
“Follow it. It will lead you north. Once the sun comes up, that will reinforce you’re headed in the right direction. Remember, the sun always rises in the east.”
“Okay.”
Hans watched the nerves tighten in her head. “Just be careful, will ya? I’m sorry I can’t get you closer.”
“Thank you,” she breathed. “I’m so very thankful.” She was lucky to have gotten this far under such circumstances, and she knew it.
Hans tipped his cap and hurried back to the driver’s side door. He hopped in and shifted into gear. Lara stepped off the berm into the grass, laden with dew. As the tires spun, a cloud of dust rippled where Lara stood, and she shielded her face from breathing it in. The truck drove off into the distance, its taillights shrinking to red pin pricks.
She was alone.
Anxiety crept up through her limbs. Lara looked left, then right. Nothing stirred. It was a ghostly feeling. Paralyzed in the moment, Lara considered melting to the ground. If only she could wait until morning—everything seemed easier in the daylight. But she had no idea of the time. Was dawn in two hours or six?
Erich.
She was wasting time. A rush of adrenaline took over. Step by step, Lara walked, moderately at first, before quickening her pace to just short of a jog.
The speed-walking was a full-body exercise, forcing her to switch her bag from shoulder to shoulder when the muscles started to burn. Every so often, a burst of energy hit. She’d run several yards before slowing to a walk and catching her breath again. It was awkward, trying to run with the burden of extra weight, as well as shoes built much more for fashion than function. All the while, only one thought kept her going: the quicker she got home, the quicker she could get help.
Along a stretch of heavy brush, a branch snapped to her right. Lara whipped her head around, fearing the attack of a wild animal. Heart in her throat, she jumped to the other side of the road. The sense that she wasn’t the only living thing prowling the night sent a chill down her spine. And with nothing sharper than a hair pin to use in self-defense, she pushed away the fear and walked on.
Lara took several short breaks to rest her legs and quench her dry mouth. Sweet Ottie had filled the girl’s flask before she left—feeling a motherly instinct to send Lara off as prepared as possible. The water was heavenly on her tongue, its coolness hydrating her shaky lips. Lara’s body was weak, and she wanted nothing more than to curl up in a ball and wish this nightmare away. But her brain commanded otherwise. And so somehow, someway, she got back up and took another step forward.
This walk-run-walk pattern continued up dimly-lit streets lined with fields and woods. She passed through small villages but never saw a soul. Houses were dark, curtains drawn. Inside, people slept soundly, without a thought of crooked lovers or kidnapped babies.
Her legs ached and her chest tightened from the labor of heavy breathing. Every time she stopped to rest, the thought of Erich’s face propelled her forward. With each step, she was that much closer to home.
After nearly four hours, she guessed, a shimmer of white flashed through a row of sparse trees. The lake, she thought. The sight of the water told her she was going the right way. Long and skinny, Lake Zürichsee narrowed to a point at Zürich.
Lara followed the grassy bank, mesmerized by the pale band of silver that reflected off the water. Moon-bleached stones lined the edge where the ripples met the Earth.
As the lake rounded out at the northern tip, Lara knew she was getting close. She’d been to the lake with Marlene and her siblings a handful of times. The children had fished, the little girls squealing at the slimy scales of their catches. The lake was a stunning representation of Mother Nature. Now, Lara thought the scenery was even more beautiful under the cover of night.
With the lake behind her, trees and vegetation gave way to the outskirts of the city. From there, Lara knew the way. The Weiss home sat near the city’s center, just a couple blocks from Main Street. Just a little bit further, she urged herself. The realization infused her with a renewed vigor, and she picked up her pace to run along the darkened sidewalks of Zürich. Her arms swung. Fresh tears filled her eyes. She was almost home.
The sky faded from black to indigo, a moody ombre that indicated morning was coming. Lara ran past the courthouse. Its massive pillars supported a pitched roof, where a turret clock sat at its center. She squinted to read the curved hands—just after five o’clock. Her father, always an early riser, was probably getting ready for work. Lara imagined her younger siblings sleeping peacefully in their beds, and felt a sudden pang of envy. She missed her own bed: its familiar softness, the safety it provided.
The house came into view as she rounded the corner. Box lanterns framed either side of the front door, their flames flickering in the murky morning hours.
Lara sprinted up the front steps with surprising momentum for someone whose legs had been working overtime through the night. She reached for the knob on the front door. It was locked. Maybe someone was awake. Peering through the narrow window next to the doorframe, she saw no movement inside.
The key, she remembered.
Her parents hid a spare key under a patio stone in the back garden for the older children who walked home from school. Gone were the days of butlers answering the door. When the family settled in Switzerland, they had to adjust to new household dynamics—one of which was not getting locked outside without a key.
Lara dashed off the steps two at a time and circled the side of the house, coming to the little courtyard below her window on the second floor. It was framed with rose bushes, her mother’s favorite. Crouching beside the round stone engraved with a large “W” in a swirly script, Lara lifted the edge. Underneath, a small brass key.
The back door entered directly into the kitchen. Before she even slid the key into the knob, Lara noticed a light coming from inside. Her heart raced, knowing someone—her father, most likely—was awake on the other side of the wall. Lara turned the key and the door sprung open. The rich smell of freshly-brewed coffee hit her face, bringing her already-awakened senses to full tilt.
It smelled like home.
A cupboard door shut and there stood Gerald, mug in hand and shock on his face.
“Father!”
“Lara!” They exclaimed as they ran into each other’s arms.
“Oh Father, I’m so sorry. I made a terrible mistake,” she wept, clutching the fabric of his shirt in her fists. Gerald held her tightly, stupefied by her sudden appearance. “I never should have left. Please forgive me.” Her tears soaked his collar.
“You’re back,” he whispered, stunned. He stroked her hair. “Thank God.”
But, wait—something was missing.
Gerald pulled back from her grasp, straightening his arms and gripping Lara’s shoulders. Grim-faced, their eyes met.
“Where’s Erich?” he asked, a distinct alarm rising in his voice. She didn’t respond, but her tears and look of defeat was enough to cause him panic.
“Lara!” He shook her shoulders. “Where is Erich?”
“Gone,” she managed between sobs.
“What do you mean gone? Where? What happened?”
“Rubin took him.”
“Rubin?”
“Yes. We went back to Austria to be with Rubin.” She sniffed and took a deep breath, trying to regain her composure. “He said we could be a family. So I went. I took Erich. But right away I knew something wasn’t right. I knew it and I ignored it. And now look what’s happened. I’m so sorry, Father.”
Gerald’s eyes were wide in disbelief. Erich was gone? And here in front of him stood his daughter, taking the blame. He pulled her back into his chest and ran his hand down her hair.
“What’s going on?” A frantic Marlene flew into the kitchen, tying the belt of her robe around her waist. At the sight of Lara, she dropped her hands and rushed toward them. “Lara! Oh, thank the Lord you’re home.” She wrapped her arms around the girl and kissed her head.
Consumed with relief, it took Marlene a moment to realize the absence of her precious grandson. “Wait, where’s Erich?” Her eyes darted between Lara and Gerald, decoding the agony on their faces. “No,” she said, bringing a hand to her mouth. “Tell me it’s not true.” Her face crumpled and she dropped her head into her hands.
“I’m so sorry, Mother. It’s all my fault.”
“Rubin kidnapped Erich,” Gerald said. “He’s somewhere in Austria. Or God knows where.”
“We can find him, right?” Lara looked up to her father with hopeful eyes. “That’s why I came back. I knew you’d know what to do, Father.”
Gerald looked to his wife, her face twisted in uncertainty. When he didn’t immediately respond, Lara returned to panic.
“You can help, right Father? Can’t you call the authorities?” Hysteria rose in her voice. “Father, please. We have to get him back!”
“I can’t just call up the Austrian authorities, Lara, you know that,” Gerald snapped. He paced around the island in the center of the kitchen, hands on his hips. “I’m a traitor to them. They don’t care about us. The last thing
they’ll want to do is help our family.”
“But he’s my son. And he was kidnapped from me!”
“He’s Rubin’s son, too. The police will say he has the same right to be a parent.” Gerald ran his fingers over his scalp. “Plus, it doesn’t look very good that Rubin never even knew Erich existed. We lied, Lara. That’s not going to help our case.”
“But—”
“There’s no buts, Lara.” Her father’s voice elevated, his look severe. “No one in Austria will want to help us.”
“That’s not true. There are people there who have resisted German occupation. Loyal Austrians. I met some. That’s how I got home.”
He wanted to scream at her, to discipline her for her foolishness. How could she be so naïve? Look what you’ve done! he wanted to cry. But when Gerald looked at his daughter, he knew she’d already imposed a lifetime of punishment on herself.
Lara bowed her head, overwhelmed with shame. What had she done? If they didn’t get Erich back, she wouldn’t be able to go on living.
Marlene stood against the wall, biting the skin around her thumb. Pools of water filled her eyes. “We’ve got to think of something,” she said. “Gerald? There’s got to be some way.”
They stared at each other. Lara’s eyes pleaded for a miraculous answer she knew wasn’t possible. Her father was angry, and his temper wasn’t something she wanted to be on the receiving end of. Could he look past his disappointment? For the sake of Erich?
The silence was unbearable. Gerald stood still, turning scenarios over in his mind. Then, as if a joint decision had been made, he spoke, adamantly.
“I’ll go.”
Marlene stepped toward him. “What? But Gerald, you can’t. You’ll be arrested.”
“We have no choice. I won’t be able to live knowing I didn’t at least try.”
It was pointless to argue. When her husband set his mind on something, he didn’t easily sway. Gerald’s strong will was one of the things Marlene had initially fallen in love with, and while she’d worked to soften his exterior, she knew the inner workings of his mind remained steadfast.
All That Shines and Whispers Page 15
