Chasing Shadows

by Lynn Austin

  “Eloise . . . don’t . . . ,” Ans murmured.

  Miriam’s chest squeezed with dread. “What laws?” She needed to know.

  Eloise started to reply, but something in Miriam’s expression seemed to stop her. She looked away, fussing with her teapot. “I didn’t mean to frighten you, Miriam. You’re like a daughter to me. You and darling Ans. Herman and I were never able to have children, you know, and so I’d like to think of you as the daughters I never had.” Ans leaned forward to comfort Eloise as her eyes filled with tears, but she shooed her away. “Never mind my silly blubbering. Let’s talk about happier things.”

  She pulled a handkerchief from her purse while Ans smoothly changed the subject, talking about the baby again and asking if they preferred a boy or a girl.

  Miriam couldn’t stop worrying about Eloise’s ominous words as she walked home. The Nazis had appointed a Reichskommissar. He was passing new laws. The laws the Nazis had passed in Germany had gradually restricted the daily lives of Jewish citizens until nearly everything was taken from them and they’d become prisoners in their own homes.

  She tried to calm her fears by practicing her violin after returning home, but Tchaikovsky’s moving melody didn’t soothe her the way it usually did. Her fingers wouldn’t move right and she kept making mistakes until she finally returned the instrument to its case. She would ask Avi about the new laws as soon as he arrived home.

  “I had coffee with Eloise and Ans today,” she began before he’d even removed his jacket. “I told them about the baby.”

  “I’m sure they were very happy for you.” He took her into his arms and kissed her as he did every day when he got home.

  Miriam didn’t release him. “But then Eloise told us something sad. She said she and her husband were never able to have children. I felt so sorry for her, Avi. She started crying in the restaurant.”

  “Mrs. Huizenga has always seemed very fragile.” He smoothed a strand of Miriam’s dark hair from her face, a tender gesture that should have comforted her but sent a ripple of dread through her instead. Would she and Avi always be together?

  “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  “Eloise told me that the new Reichskommissar for the Netherlands is passing laws. Do you know about this?”

  “A little bit . . .”

  “Why haven’t you told me?”

  “Because so far the laws haven’t affected us. I didn’t want you to worry.”

  “You aren’t protecting me by shielding me from the truth, Avi. We promised to share everything with each other, the good things and the hard things.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  He tried to hold her close again, but she pulled away and looked at him. “Tell me about the laws.”

  He exhaled with a weary sigh. “A few months ago, they passed a law saying that Jews can’t be hired for civil service positions. Jews who are already civil servants can’t be promoted. That includes staff positions at the university. University professors all over the country signed a letter of protest, but it didn’t do any good.”

  “They passed the same law in Germany in the beginning, remember?”

  He nodded, closing his eyes.

  “Is there more?”

  “A second law requires all civil servants to submit a letter in writing, stating whether they are Aryan or Jewish.”

  “Abba has to do that?”

  Avi looked down for a moment as if reluctant to reply. “Yes. But the Dutch Protestant churches issued a public protest, calling the law an outrage.”

  “Did the protest do any good?”

  “No.”

  Miriam felt a boulder drop into the pit of her stomach. “Avi, this is how it started in Germany, remember? The persecution began gradually, a small step at a time until we ended up—”

  “Miriam, don’t.”

  He held her tightly, trying to soothe her as she struggled to breathe. She hadn’t suffered a panic attack in months—until today. “But we can see what’s coming. We’ve been through this before.”

  “And yet we’re alive, Miriam. And we’re together. We escaped from them once before and we can do it again.”

  Tears slipped down her face. “What kind of a world will our baby be born into?”

  “Only God knows.”

  Miriam was curled on the sofa in Avi’s arms, still tearful, when Abba arrived home.

  “You’ve heard the news?” he asked when he saw them there. He had a newspaper in his hand. He looked grief-stricken.

  “No, Abba. What’s wrong?”

  “I told Miriam what’s been happening these past few weeks,” Avi said. “Is there more?”

  Abba sank onto a chair as if his legs could no longer hold him. “Oh, my dear ones . . . Today there was another new law from the Reichskommissar.” He cleared his throat and loosened his collar as if struggling to speak the words. “All Jewish teachers and university professors are no longer allowed to work.”

  “Abba, no!” Just like in Cologne.

  “I’ve been dismissed. The university community is outraged. The professors and students are all fighting against this, and there’s talk of a strike. They’re holding a public protest at the university tomorrow.”

  “I want to go with you, Abba.”

  “And do what? What is it you think you can do, Miriam? No, my dear, you and your child must stay here where it’s safe.”

  “If enough people at the university protest,” Avi said, “the Nazis will have to listen.”

  Abba shook his head. “The law will be backed by Nazi troops and the Gestapo. The Dutch people will have no choice but to carry them out.” He drew a deep breath as if gathering strength. “We need to find a way out of this country, Avraham. We must apply for visas—”

  “I agree, but where can we go? How will we get there?” He released Miriam and struggled to his feet as if he wanted to run. “The consulates have all closed. I was promised a visa for Palestine, but then the British declared war and the Nazis invaded us and there’s no longer a British embassy here.”

  Abba stood too, taking control, halting Avi’s frantic pacing. “Enough of this, now. We will eat our dinner and walk to the synagogue for evening prayers. The other men are also searching for a way out. We’ll find one together.”

  After Abba and Avi left for work the next day, Miriam walked to the town house to ask Eloise if she knew more about the firings at the university. She found her in the breakfast room with Ans, having their morning tea. “I’m sorry to barge in—”

  “Nonsense. Ans, fetch another cup for Miriam.”

  She sat down at the table, determined to remain calm, breathing slowly. “Yesterday you mentioned the new laws that the Nazis have passed. But have you heard about the latest one?” Eloise shook her head, frowning. “All Jewish teachers and professors have been fired. Including Abba.”

  Ans froze, her cup halfway to her mouth. Eloise slumped back against her chair. “I knew Herman was upset when he came home last night, but he just mumbled about problems at work.”

  “Abba said that the other professors and students are holding a protest at the university today. They’re calling for a strike. Maybe if there’s enough public outrage . . . maybe they’ll change their minds.”

  Eloise sprang to her feet as if a jolt of electricity had shot through her. “We’re going! I’m not going to sit by without adding my voice to the protests. Give me a moment to change my clothes and we’ll be on our way.” She headed toward the stairs before Ans could stop her.

  “I’m sorry, Ans,” Miriam said. “I was sure she must know about it already. I just wanted to ask if she had more information.”

  “I don’t think I can stop her from going. But will you come with me in case I need help?”

  “Yes, certainly. I feel like this is all my fault.”

  “It’s not. I understand why her husband tries to shelter her, but I don’t think he realizes that she actually copes better when she’s doing something.”

  “I�
�m ready,” Eloise said when she returned. “Do you know where the protest is being held?”

  “No. Abba didn’t want me to go.”

  “We’ll find it. Let’s go.”

  Miriam and Ans could barely keep up with Eloise as she strode from the house, crossed the bridge, and headed toward the cluster of university buildings off Rapenburg Street. It was easy to follow the shouts and chanting voices of protesting students as they drew close. Students handed out flyers with details about the new anti-Jewish laws.

  “We can’t let them do here what they did in Nazi Germany!” one student shouted. “We must stand up for our freedom and our rights!”

  His words gave Miriam hope. She linked arms with Ans and Eloise so they wouldn’t get separated and followed the flow to where the public speeches had begun.

  “Who is that man?” Eloise asked a student as a distinguished-looking gentleman mounted the platform.

  “That’s Professor Cleveringa, dean of the law faculty.”

  The crowd stilled as the professor told how his distinguished mentor and colleague, Professor Meijers, had been dismissed from Leiden University because he was Jewish. Cleveringa read the letter of dismissal, and Miriam cringed at the ugliness of the hatred it spewed. It was happening again. Her lungs squeezed until she could barely draw a breath.

  The police and Gestapo arrived moments after he finished his speech.

  “Let’s go! We need to go home!” Ans said. She linked arms with them, dragging them away from the campus and rushing toward the town house.

  Miriam felt dizzy. She had to keep stopping to catch her breath.

  They were almost to the bridge when a student brushed past them, shoving a flimsy newspaper into Eloise’s hand. She halted to read it. “It’s an underground newspaper! From the Resistance!” She hurried after the student before Ans could stop her, calling, “Wait! Please listen. I want to help.”

  The student halted. He looked wary, ready to run. “The truth of what’s happening should be spread all across the country,” Eloise said. “Can you put me in contact with your editor? I can help. I was a journalist in Belgium.”

  He looked all around before saying, “Go to the Leiden Observatory tomorrow morning at nine. If he agrees to meet with you, he’ll be there.”

  “Eloise, are you sure about this?” Ans asked.

  “How can any decent person stand by and allow this to happen?” she asked.

  “Let’s go home,” Ans said. They started walking again.

  “When this started happening in Germany, there weren’t many people who were brave enough to stand up for us,” Miriam said. “The Nazis had already created such a climate of terror and hatred that everyone was afraid of them. Thank you for helping us.”

  “I can’t promise it will do any good,” Eloise said, “but I’m going to try.”

  Miriam was able to breathe again by the time she reached her apartment. It helped to know that her friends and others at the university were standing up for Abba. She told him so as soon as he arrived home. “Don’t be angry with me, Abba, but I went to the university this morning with Mrs. Huizenga and Ans. We heard the law professor’s speech. People are going to support you. They won’t let you be fired. I heard them calling for a strike.” He started shaking his head before Miriam even finished.

  “The strike won’t do any good. The Gestapo arrested Professor Cleveringa right after he finished his speech. They’ve closed the university.”

  “So Professor Huizenga is out of a job too?”

  “It would seem so.”

  Avi took the news very hard when he returned home. He had taken off his coat and hat, but he put them back on again right away. “Come, Abba,” he said. “Let’s go to the synagogue for evening prayers.”

  CHAPTER 22

  Ans grew more and more concerned for Eloise’s state of mind after returning from the protest. Trying to calm her seemed hopeless. Eloise paced through the town house, ranting nonstop about the Nazis and their unfair treatment of the Jews. She was waiting to speak with her husband the moment he came home from work, which was earlier than usual.

  “I know all about what happened at the university this morning,” she told him without a word of greeting. “Come and sit down, Herman. There’s something I need to tell you.” Ans tried to excuse herself so they could have privacy, but Eloise insisted she stay. “We’re all in this together, Ans.”

  The professor sank down on the sofa, his long legs outstretched, his body limp. He ran his hand over his face. “Go ahead and tell me, Eloise. This day couldn’t possibly get any worse.”

  “I was there,” she said. “I heard Professor Cleveringa’s speech. It was brilliant.”

  He sat up in alarm. “What were you doing there? Ans, did you let her go—?”

  “Don’t get mad at Ans—she couldn’t have stopped me if she had bound and gagged me and locked me in the closet.”

  “But why? How did you even hear about the protest?”

  “Miriam came over to tell us that her father and all the other Jewish professors had been fired. She said there was going to be a public protest. I simply had to do something.”

  “Do you also know that the Nazis closed the university, for now, after the speech?” he asked. “And arrested Professor Cleveringa?”

  “I’m not surprised. But it won’t do them any good. It won’t stop the students and the people of Leiden from protesting this outrage. We simply can’t stand by and allow them to persecute our Jewish people the way they did in Germany.”

  “The Nazis don’t tolerate protests, Eloise. You’re putting yourself in their crosshairs.”

  “I don’t plan on standing in the street with a placard. I have something else in mind.”

  “Eloise, please . . .” Ans had never seen him look so weary and worried.

  “I plan to do this.” Eloise handed him the underground newspaper, then waited, watching while he skimmed it. “Now don’t be angry with me, Herman. It won’t do any good because I won’t change my mind. I’m going to work for this newspaper.”

  “Doing what?”

  “I can monitor the radio broadcasts in both English and French. Ans knows German. We can report the real news so the Dutch people will know the truth, not the lies and propaganda that the Nazis want us to believe. It’s what I studied to do.”

  “But it always upsets you when you learn what’s really going on. I couldn’t bear to see you have another breakdown—”

  “Herman, listen to me.” She moved closer to him on the sofa and took his face in her hands. “I feel stronger when I’m fighting back. I can push the terrible memories away because this time I’m going to write a different ending to my story. I won’t be a coward. I’m not going to hide from them. We can do this work together. It seems you’re out of a job at the moment, aren’t you?”

  He gave a weak smile, and Ans saw the love in his eyes. “Yes, but let’s think about this for just a minute . . .”

  “The Resistance is rising up, Herman, and I need to be part of it. We can’t give in to the Nazis’ demands without a fight. This persecution of the Jewish people isn’t just a cause to me. It’s personal. This is about standing up for my friend Miriam and for her husband and her father and for the child she’s carrying.”

  The professor captured Eloise’s wildly gesturing hands and stilled them in his. “I know you’re well aware of what happened to your parents—”

  “They died while helping the Resistance. I survived. And I’ve been dying every day since then. The doctors said when the bad memories come, I should replace them with different thoughts. Positive thoughts. And positive actions. Working for the newspaper will save my life—I’m certain of it.”

  “And if you’re arrested? Imprisoned? Eloise, I couldn’t bear it.”

  “It would be no worse than the prison that my own mind has kept me in.”

  The professor turned to Ans, his expression pleading. “Ans, what do you think? Should Eloise do this? Is this wise? The Na
zis will see this newspaper as treasonous. Anyone caught working for it will be imprisoned—or worse.”

  Ans chose her words carefully. “I’m not sure I’m qualified to give an opinion. But I’m also disgusted by what the Nazis are doing. I would like to work for the Resistance too. If Eloise decides to work for them, I will help her.”

  “This isn’t what you signed on for, Ans,” he said. “You need to talk with your family first. They may object to you putting yourself in danger.”

  “I don’t need to talk to them. I already know they’ll agree. They plan to fight back too. My grandfather said that everyone needs to make a conscious choice, whether they’re going to be for or against the enemy. He said if we choose to do nothing, then we’re choosing to be on the enemy’s side.”

  “I’ve arranged to meet with the editor of this newspaper,” Eloise said, waving it. “Tomorrow, in fact. Ans will come with me, won’t you? We’ll fight the Nazis on every possible front.” The professor looked up at Ans, pleading silently.

  “Yes. We’ll go together.”

  “I hate it that we’ve had so little time together lately,” Ans said as she went into Erik’s arms the following afternoon. “Can we go for a walk?” Evenings out together were no longer possible with the new curfew laws, so they snatched whatever moments they could.

  “There won’t be time. I’m going on duty soon. Maybe we can just sit out here on the steps for a few minutes.”

  Ans sank down on the cold stone step beside him, her head on his shoulder. “This terrible war is interrupting everyone’s life,” she said. “Will we still be able to see each other this weekend?”

  “That’s what I came to tell you. There’s a meeting I have to attend.”

  “Is it about the protests at the university?” Erik had never mentioned seeing her at the demonstration for Prince Bernhard’s birthday, so Ans assumed that he hadn’t. Should she tell him that she’d gone to the protest at the university yesterday?