All Things New

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All Things New Page 22

by Felicia Mires


  He dropped to the cot to rest for a few seconds. As the blood returned to his fingers, so did excruciating pain. In spite of that, he flexed them to increase their agility. There had to be a solution to his problem. How could he get the board out of the window without making too much noise?

  A sudden idea had him removing one of his socks to pull it over his boot. Now he could kick and the sock would muffle the sound. He was too excited to wait until the pain left his hands, so he climbed up to the window again. This time Jacob swung his boot at the board with all his might. It gave at the same moment the skin on his fingers tore. He couldn't stop now for bloody fingers. If he didn't get out, he'd end up with a lot worse than bloodied fingers. He kicked again. The board moved even more. He wiped his hands on his wet shirt and got a better grip on the bar. With the next shove, he used all his body strength, and the board swung loose on one side.

  Jacob stood on the cot and pushed at the board with both hands. It moved enough to fit his body through. He put his head through the gap first then turned his shoulders sideways, but his sodden flannel shirt got in the way.

  He dropped back on the cot and took off his shirt, shoes, and trousers. He grabbed a dry set of clothes and peeked out the window. When he didn't see anyone coming, he dropped the clothes to the ground.

  It would be a tight fit so Jacob took the bowl of water and rubbed it all over his shoulders and hips. He hefted himself to the opening and put his head through. There was no one coming so he twisted his shoulders around and pushed. The rough edges of the window frame scraped into his skin as he forced his way through. It was smooth going until he came to his hips. Jacob held his breath and pulled against the window frame. With half of his body on either side of the window, it was difficult to gain leverage. Perspiration poured from his entire body, making him slippery and his grasp poor. He fell down hard on the bottom of the window frame and gasped.

  The sound of voices drew near from around the corner of the building. His time was up. He tore relentlessly at his hips. As he worked frantically to free himself, tears sprang to his eyes. When he broke through, he fell all the way to the ground with a slight thud. Now the scurry of boots and startled voices hurried toward him. With the breath knocked out of him and darkness all around, it was difficult to search for his clothes. He found his trousers, but he must have kicked the shirt away. With the guards almost upon him, he ran away, carrying his trousers.

  What if they discovered the torn window frame and noted his absence? They would send the dogs after him. He needed to reach the river where he could rinse his scent away and throw pursuers off the track.

  Something about running naked brought forth a hysterical feeling in Jacob's chest. If he didn't have so much trouble running and breathing, he would have laughed. As it was, short chortles of merriment escaped his throat as he ran along.

  For the middle of the night, the humidity was terrible. Even naked, he was drenched with sweat by the time he reached the river's edge. He dropped his trousers on the bank and waded into the cooling water. The sting of his torn skin was almost as painful as the bruises on his shoulders and hips. He ducked down and rubbed the refreshing water through his hair, not surprised by several egg-sized lumps on his head. The beating had been brief, yet severe.

  After he rinsed off completely, he went back for his trousers. Before he waded back in, he wrapped the pants around his neck. After swimming downstream about 100 meters, he returned to shore and stood dripping for a few seconds. He didn't want the scent from his slacks to touch the ground, so he continued without them for about half a mile.

  At last, Jacob felt he had sidetracked Lyon enough to put on his trousers and rest. What a story he'd have to tell Chloe when next he saw her! He leaned against a tree and pulled on his slacks. Had he not been so thin, he wouldn't have made it through the cell bars. That was one good thing about rationing. He breathed deeply and began walking. Once again, he was on the road without shoes. That pair had lasted almost two years.

  Thank you, Lord, for freedom.

  With a deep breath, Jacob began to trot toward the Darnell farmhouse, the safehouse farthest from Lyon. Perhaps it had been a coincidence that the Gestapo had been nearby that afternoon.

  Jacob noted the time as he neared the Darnell home, three in the morning. No one would be awake, but he knew how to get their attention. He'd once broken in as a Gestapo agent, now he was going in without clothes. What a laugh they would get out of that!

  As Jacob slipped inside, he found the farmhouse silent and in perfect order. There was no evidence that soldiers had overrun the place, so Jacob stopped trying to be quiet as he left the kitchen for the back stairs. Ferdinand should come running down any moment. Seconds later, he felt a bash on the head and sank to the floor.

  After that, everything happened at once. Lights blazed as Ferdinand and Antoinette rushed into the hallway. "What's going on down here?"

  Jacob heard voices as if from far away.

  "That man was sneaking in the house."

  Rachelle started to cry. "Oh, Ferdinand…it's Jacques. Is he dead?"

  "Just knocked out. Get a glass of water. He's been beaten pretty badly."

  "Where are his clothes?"

  "Antoinette, as badly as he's been beaten, it looks as if he had to escape without them."

  "Jacques, Jacques, can you hear me?" Antoinette threw the glass of water in his face.

  "Not in his face, Antoinette, for him to drink."

  "I know that, cherie, I got two glasses."

  Jacob felt the glass at his mouth, and some of the water managed to dribble in his lips. He now had the most abominable headache he'd ever endured.

  "Who hit me?"

  "I did."

  Jacob didn't recognize the voice, but he wasn't going to open his eyes. "Antoinette…some aspirin, please?"

  "Where is Chloe?" asked Ferdinand.

  "With her parents."

  "What happened?"

  "I was on my way here this afternoon…uh...yesterday…when I ran into a trap. The Gibbet were about a mile from here. Did you know?"

  "Non, we've had no trouble."

  "Lost my radio."

  "Not to mention your clothes," said the unknown voice.

  "That is enough," said Antoinette with authority. "Back up and let him swallow the pills. You can discuss it in the morning. He needs to lie down."

  Ferdinand helped Jacob up the stairs and into a bed. Tomorrow, they had a lot to discuss.

  Chapter 18

  The next few months were a chaotic time for Jacob as the Alliance went underground with the Maquis, a disassociated group of resisters with little or no leadership. With the end of the war in sight, they united with the Alliance under the military guidance of General De Gaulle, the leader of Free France, stationed in London. Many of the Maquis were bandits brought together by their common hatred for the Nazis. They were constantly on the run from the Gestapo, yet the demand for their sabotage services was greater than ever before. One evening over a brushwood fire, someone asked Jacob to relate his escape through the cell bars.

  "I couldn't believe it when my head would only fit past one bar," he said, grinning. "But I was thankful. I hadn't expected it to fit at all, though I did have to leave my clothes behind to fit the rest of my body through."

  A grizzled old man laughed quietly to himself.

  "What is it?" asked Jacob.

  "Would you like to know why you were able to get past only one?"

  Jacob nodded.

  "I've put the bars in a prison many times. Before the cement hardens, the officials come in to measure the gaps in the bars. When they leave, we push aside one of the bars. It's called the bar of freedom."

  Jacob laughed along with the others. On the inside, he was thanking God for the strange practices of the French. It had saved his life.

  Although Jacob traveled in the midst of many, he felt the isolation from Chloe as if he were alone. These compatriots had become like brothers, but Chloe was his w
ife. He longed for a way to reach her, to send a message to her. He prayed she wouldn't be worried about him.

  Since Jacob's departure, Chloe hadn't heard from him at all. Was he dead or alive?

  Oh, Lord, let him be alive and well.

  She'd made great gains in her quest to know the Lord, though she still felt the ultimate sacrifice for her would be to set Jacob free. The war had required huge sacrifices and changes in their lives. Jacob deserved to make his own choices after the war ended. Sometimes she missed him so badly she wondered how she would have made it without God. The Lord had become her anchor.

  The town of Cachet experienced a constant flux of German troops and civilian repairmen. The bombing raids on the nearby railway were extensive, as was the damage to the electrical lines. Cachet was a town 'on the way' to those making repairs or those in the first phase of retreat. One day, a stranger knocked on the door.

  When she answered, he looked her up and down. "Chloe Conran?"

  Jacob had forgotten to tell her what to do if someone came looking for him. What should she say?

  "She lives here. Can I help you?"

  The man smiled. "Well, pretty lady, you look just like the Chloe I was asked to deliver a message to. Are you married? The Lion says you're his wife."

  "Oui, I'm married to Jacques. What is the message?"

  The man held out an envelope with Jacob's handwriting on it then turned to go.

  "Wait!"

  He paused and looked back at her.

  "Could you wait a moment so I could send a note back?"

  He glanced around outside, clearly nervous, but he nodded.

  "Come in, please," she added.

  She shut the door behind him and tore the envelope open without even going to her room.

  My Darling Chloe,

  I would give practically anything to be talking to you myself, but that wasn't possible so I thought a letter was the next best thing. Work has kept me very busy, but my thoughts have always been on you. I can't wait until we have a place of our own. You know that's what I'm working toward, or I could never live without you and our son. You made me smile again. You made me love again. I think I'll be home soon, for good. But what is a home without the people you love? Think about where you want that home to be. Chloe, remember that as much as I love you, God loves you more. He sacrificed more. He can give you a more lasting peace. I've been working on a worldly peace for almost fourteen years and haven't gotten the victory yet. Try the peace that is everlasting. My heart still beats for you. Jacques

  The letter said all the things Chloe longed to hear, and yet it told her nothing specific. No one could suspect a thing from what Jacob said. But it gave her a very real sense of how he was. She picked up a pen and wrote. It didn't take long to say the things that would deny her heart and give him his freedom. So many times she'd rehearsed them already in her mind.

  She sealed the letter and handed it to the messenger. "I appreciate you waiting." She hesitated for a moment. "Does Jacques look well?"

  He offered her a sympathetic smile. "Oui, Madame, as well as any of us."

  "Thank you…so much."

  He nodded and slipped away through the hedges. A tear slid down Chloe's cheek. She might never hear from Jacob again.

  As the war drew to a close, Paris was a most dangerous place to be, a city preparing for the end. Nazi cars constantly cruised the roads. Indiscriminate machine-guns erupted in cross-fires, killing children in the streets.

  General von Choltitz, the Nazi commander in Paris, was preparing his defenses. The Nazis dug trenches six feet deep at the entrances to the capital, set up anti-tank defenses, and installed troop units along the city's outskirts. As huge numbers of soldiers swarmed across Paris, the Alliance became convinced the Nazis were evacuating. The defenses put in place were merely to gain time for their retreat.

  Into this atmosphere, Jacob appeared. He and other Alliance leaders scoured the reports they received, many contradictory. Though the bridges and railways had been mined, those that remained wouldn't be blown because the Germans wouldn't cut off their own retreat.

  The Nazis had barely enough fuel to power their tanks and vehicles for a hard drive home and no manpower to counteract a city uprising and an Allied assault. All this information was documented and prepared for the Allied chiefs. Two days later, de Gaulle landed in France to take charge of the Nazi surrender.

  Even this wasn't the end for Jacob. The Alliance continued to move ahead of the Wehrmacht, relating all the German army's defenses to the Allies. When pockets of German defenses were set up, Jacob recorded their locations and sent the information to General Patton of the American army. Sometime during the chaotic turnover, Jacob met up with his messenger to Chloe.

  "I'd almost given you up. Did you have trouble getting through the German lines?"

  "I was stopped several times, but as it was obvious I was just there to repair the electrical lines, I was allowed safe conduct. By the way, your wife is well and sends you greetings. She made me wait for this."

  He held out the letter from Chloe. Jacob jumped up and grabbed it, unable to contain his excitement. He ripped it open as he walked into another room.

  Dear Jacques,

  We were all thrilled to learn of your safety and well- being. The whole town feels we owe our lives to you. There is nothing we could ever say or do to thank you for what you've done. I owe you so much more. Your continued self-sacrifice showed me that God could be real, that He is real. I believe.

  I can only think of one way to show my gratitude, to release you. I know at the time, it seemed the best way to get me out of Cachet was to marry me, but now there is no reason for you to be tied down. Papan has never recorded the marriage in the official books. You shouldn't have any trouble if you just tear up the marriage certificate. Or, if you feel it would be more proper, file a divorce. I won't contest it.

  I see no reason for you to be bothered with coming back here. In fact, I think it would be better if you didn't. I shall always be grateful.

  Chloe

  At a time when most were exultant at the victory of the Allies, Jacob felt his world coming apart. His heart leaped when he read that she believed in the Savior, but he stared with disbelief at the words that said she no longer wanted to be part of his life. Could it be true? Did she not love him?

  He thought back to their last night together. She had participated in their lovemaking with abandon, sworn her love. It couldn't be true that she didn't want him. Yet, there in his hands was the evidence. He dashed at tears as they slipped down his cheek. When Jacob prayed, he heard no answers. Should he run to her immediately or wait for her to send for him? Should he write her another letter? In the end, he decided to do nothing. The situation around him required his utmost attention to details. It wouldn't do to become lax when they were so close to the end.

  Freedom was in sight. As soon as the retreating Nazis passed through an area, the French flag miraculously appeared to fly proudly from houses and public buildings. Jacob was a personal witness when the Nazi army crossed the Rhine for home. The retreating Wehrmacht could be seen for miles as they plunged into Germany.

  He longed more and more for his son. His work for France was finished. He needed to tend to the well-being of his own family. He continued to pray for Chloe, but when the opportunity came to catch a plane returning to England, Jacob took it.

  In the comfort of his family's love, Jacob felt renewed. He couldn't get over his longing for Chloe, but he was able to push it to the side as he got to know his son. A little boy no longer smiled up at him, but a tow-headed, fourteen-year old lad with a mischievous grin. Jacob became enchanted once again with the joy of fatherhood.

  He felt, too, the love of his heavenly Father. As he prayed and sought the Lord, Palestine no longer seemed like a phantom dream but a real possibility. The British government was anxious to show their gratitude to Jacob, and he suggested that an opportunity to move his family to Palestine would be deeply appreci
ated. The matter, he was told, would be taken under advisement.

  Meanwhile, he had come to peace over Chloe. God told him repeatedly to trust him and let go. It wasn't something Jacob wanted to hear, and he argued at first.

  Lord, just as you and I are in covenant, so are Chloe and I. How could you ask me to turn my back on that? You brought us together.

  The answer was always the same. Trust me.

  The Germans finally surrendered on May 8, 1945.

  In Cachet, residents returned to their abandoned homes to find disarray and disrepair. There was so much to be done that Chloe fell exhausted into bed every night. Father Mercier relied on her heavily as he strove to minister to the hurting population. No one asked about what had happened to Chloe. No one talked about it. She could start her life over with all the other war refugees. Cachet had been decimated by the war, and it began to look as if some families had paid the ultimate price. No one ever returned to some houses. This became most evident as weeks went by and they received no word on the patrons of the Chateau.

  One day, an official letter arrived from Paris. The Vicomte Paul Philibert de La Cachet and his wife were listed as dead. All of their belongings were now subject to the state.

  Chloe remembered that the ruined castle might yet hold secret treasures for the state of France. She wrote a letter, asking for assistance in retrieving the Chateau's treasure from its wartime hiding place.

  Several weeks later, she received a reply. Someone would be happy to help her if she could wait a while longer. Taking care of the citizens had almost overwhelmed the beleaguered government. Treasure would have to wait.

  When Chloe thought of Jacob, the loneliness brought a pang to her heart. She didn't regret giving him back his freedom, but she regretted not having him in her life. She prayed for his life, his child, and his wife. She hoped he'd found peace and contentment at last. But she thought of him every day.

 

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