by Renee Duke
He pointed behind her. Paige looked and saw he was right. But by then Uncle Trevor wasn’t by the door. He and Cousin Ophelia were making their way across the courtyard at speed, their winter boots providing just enough traction to keep them from slipping.
Penelope did not as much as glance over her shoulder. “Do you think I’m naïve enough to fall for a silly trick like that? You have to the count of ten. I’ll go slowly. One…two…”
By six, the blue mist was forming. The medallion’s response to the Paige’s desperate mental recitation of the connecting rhyme.
Penelope stopped counting. Her eyes widened as she realized what was happening.
“No-o-o!!” she screamed.
The gun went off the same instant.
Still visible within the mist, Jack recoiled. He fell to the ground just as Uncle Trevor leapt forward to catch him.
Chapter Fourteen
They materialized in the street in front of Gasthaus Altmeyer. A cold, dark, street, with no one around. Not even Dane. Neither Paige nor Uncle Trevor noticed that at first. Or the fact it was snowing. Jack was clutching the upper part of his left arm and staring at the blood soaking through his shirt and oozing on to his hand.
“She…she shot me,” he said dazedly as Uncle Trevor gently pried his hand away and tried to assess the damage.
“How bad is it?” asked Paige, thankful she’d been able to keep hold of them.
“I don’t know,” Uncle Trevor replied, whipping a large cloth handkerchief out of his pocket and wadding it up to staunch the flow of blood. “I don’t think anything vital’s been hit. Like a bone or artery. But we must get him to a doctor. I assume you said the connecting rhyme to get us here. Say it again and take us back.”
“To what? Penelope standing there ready to take another shot?”
“Does the medallion always take you to the same time and place you left from?”
“Not always. It didn’t on our last trip back from Skookaweethp’s time. But everything was topsy-turvy then. It might, or might not, do the same now. We’d be taking a really big chance.”
“Then we’ll have to get help for him here.” Still maintaining pressure on Jack’s arm, he picked the boy up. “It seems to be night-time. Go rouse the Altmeyers. If the gates are locked, pull the bell.”
Paige dashed across the street. The gates were locked, so she started to frantically pull on a rope hanging to the side.
A few moments later, light flooded the courtyard and she heard Herr Altmeyer’s voice call out, demanding to know who was there. She turned as Uncle Trevor came up behind her.
“It’s Trevor Hol—…Trevor Hastings,” Uncle Trevor called in response. “Help us, please. One of the children has been shot.”
A door banged. In less than half a minute, a key was being inserted into the lock on the other side of the gates.
At that point, Dane appeared.
Literally.
“What? How?” Paige began. “Never mind. No Time. Jack’s hurt.”
“What happened?”
“Penelope. She had a gun.”
“A gun?”
The gates swung open. Wearing only a dressing gown, a nightshirt, and a pair of slippers, a grim-faced Herr Altmeyer ushered them into the courtyard.
“How did this happen?” he asked, staring at Jack in horror.
“We got caught up in something in town,” said Uncle Trevor. “Not sure what was going on. Just thought we’d better get out of there as fast as we could.”
Herr Altmeyer gave an understanding nod. “Bring him inside. I will telephone for a doctor. One who can be trusted.”
Inside, he headed for the family’s ground floor apartment, from which Frau Altmeyer was just emerging. Having perceived bandages might be required, she had some long, thick ones in her hand, along with some towels.
“Upstairs,” she said without preamble.
She went ahead of them and threw back the covers on a bed in an empty guestroom. The doors to the others remained closed, with no sleepy-looking people stumbling out of them wondering what was going on. Either they were empty, too, or people in Nazi Germany had learned to mind their own business.
Uncle Trevor put a crying, shivering Jack down on the bed, but waved Frau Altmeyer away when she moved to cover him up.
“No. His clothes are damp. I don’t want him to take a chill. I’ll strip him as fast as I can so we can get blankets round him.”
Frau Altmeyer dispatched Paige to the apartment to find some pyjamas Gustav kept there for overnight stays with his grandparents.
“Herr Altmeyer will show you,” she said, taking Uncle Trevor’s now saturated handkerchief away from Jack’s arm and replacing it with a towel. “They will be too big, but easier to put on than a nightshirt. To pull something over his head would be very painful.”
“And must therefore be avoided,” said Uncle Trevor. He took out a Swiss Army knife. “Afraid I’m going to have to cut your vest off, Jack. Shirt will probably have to go the same way.”
That’s not going to go over too well with Dad’s wardrobe people, Dane thought as he tugged off his cousin’s shoes and socks.
Jack stopped crying, and did his best to be brave, but whimpered when Uncle Trevor cut the shirt from around his injured arm.
Once the shirt and the vest had been dealt with, Uncle Trevor allowed Frau Altmeyer to drape a loose blanket around the upper part of Jack’s body. He then reached for the boy’s belt.
“Not ev-very-th-thing,” Jack pleaded, his teeth chattering. “T-There are g-girls p-present.”
“Oh, please,” said Paige, coming in with the pyjamas. “I do have a brother, you know.”
“I d-don’t c-c-care.”
“Not to worry,” said Uncle Trevor. “We’ll leave the undies. I expect they’re still relatively dry.”
Dane and Uncle Trevor got Jack into Gustav’s pyjamas, and rolled the sleeve up so Frau Altmeyer could exchange the blood-stained towel for a bandage. When the bandage was firmly in place, she secured Jack’s arm in a sling fashioned from another towel.
While she was doing that, Paige took a spare pillow from a chair and placed it under Jack’s feet.
“Elevation,” she explained. “Elevation’s important when someone’s bleeding a lot. I learned that in the First Aid part of a babysitting course I took.”
“First Aid’s all well and good,” Uncle Trevor said when they’d finished and Jack was fully tucked into bed, “but he must see a doctor.”
“Did you find a doctor, Ernst?” Frau Altmeyer asked her husband as he came into the room fully dressed.
Herr Altmeyer shook his head. “I can think of only two who would be discreet, and both are attending a conference in Berlin.”
“What about Doctor Greenberg. He is Jewish, and no longer allowed to practice. But, for us, he would come.”
“No, Gerda,” said Herr Altmeyer. “He would get in great trouble for treating a non-Jew. We cannot ask him. Not so soon after Kristallnacht.”
“Kristallnacht,” said Uncle Trevor. “The ninth of November, nineteen thirty-eight. The Night of Broken Glass,” he added, for Paige and Dane’s benefit. “Many Jewish people were attacked in the streets and their homes and businesses vandalized.”
“A date that will long be remembered,” said Frau Altmeyer. “A most terrible time. And now this. Poor little one. Why would anyone want to harm him?” She gave Jack’s blankets another tuck and bustled out muttering something about a hot water bottle.
“It wasn’t him personally,” said Uncle Trevor, whose mind had been working on a story. “Our train was delayed and we got into Munich quite late. Too late to come here. I decided to spend the night in the Bahnhofsmission at the Hauptbahnhof. There was some trouble there. I don’t quite know what it was all about, but I was foolish enough to take a picture. That brought attention our way and some SS chaps starting firing in our direction. We were forced to abandon my camera—and everything else we had with us—and run. Jack was hit in
the process. He must have a doctor, Herr Altmeyer. If not your usual one, then—”
“It is not that simple, Herr Hastings,” Herr Altmeyer broke in. “If you do not know what you were involved in, it would be unwise to bring the boy’s wound to the attention of anyone likely to report it to the authorities. We are fortunate that there are currently no guests here to run off telling tales.”
“But he must have medical attention. The bullet’s got to come out, for starters.”
“I know, but—”
“Onkel Othi,” Dane said suddenly. “He once took a bullet out of a wolf that had been shot. And Nicko’s grandmother—old Zigana. She’s a healer.”
“Do you know where they live?” Uncle Trevor asked Herr Altmeyer.
“Somewhere on the outskirts of the city. They have never been forthcoming with an actual address. Even if we had one, they are not likely to be there. There was a large Gypsy round-up during the summer and, two weeks ago, Heinrich Himmler issued a decree designed to further ‘combat the Gypsy plague’—a decree which will doubtless result in even more arrests. Gypsy travel is now much restricted, but because of the new decree, Gunter fears staying in one place. He prefers to keep moving about, believing this to be safer. I disagree. I think the Nazis will go for the nomadic Gypsies first, not the sedentary or semi-sedentary, but…” He threw up his hands, then lowered them and thought for moment. “Helmut might know where they are. I will go and wake him. If he does know, I will borrow an automobile from a friend and go to find them. It will be for them to say if they will help, and whether it is best for them to come here, or for the boy to be taken to them.”
He hurried out. Uncle Trevor remained standing for a few moments, then pulled a chair up to the bed and began to stroke Jack’s tousled curls and murmur comforting words. Paige and Dane stayed at the foot of the bed, uncertain what to say or do.
A few minutes later, Frau Altmeyer came in with a tray of hot drinks in her hands and a hot water bottle tucked under her arm.
Paige took the tray from her and set it on top of a dresser.
“Drink those,” said Frau Altmeyer. “You will all be cold, having been out on such a night. Hot baths you must have also. I will see to it.” She slid the hot water bottle beneath Jack’s covers. “You must not drink,” she said to him. “You are still shaking a little. From shock, as well as cold. Drinking or eating might cause you to retch.” She looked at Uncle Trevor. “A little nursing, I know. Not much. Not enough to take out the bullet. Ernst says Othi Brase might be able to do this.”
“If he and Herr Reitzel can find him,” Uncle Trevor replied.
Frau Altmeyer nodded and went off to see to their baths.
Paige handed round the drinks, which Uncle Trevor and Dane gratefully took.
“So, it’s nineteen-thirty-eight now,” Uncle Trevor said after a sip or two.
“It shouldn’t be,” said Paige. “When Jack and I left, it was nineteen-thirty-seven. The Reitzels were planning to go to America on the Hindenburg and we wanted to check the crash date with you.”
“Sixth of May, nineteen-thirty-eight,” Uncle Trevor replied. “It left Germany on the third.”
“Yeah, well, that would have been it, then, so we were right to be concerned. But we thought if Dane stayed here the medallion would stop Time while we were gone and we’d be able to talk them out of going. They obviously didn’t go, but equally obviously, Time didn’t stop.” She gave a start that almost spilled her drink. “Which means Dane’s been living in Nazi Germany for over a year!”
Dane dismissed this notion. “No, I haven’t. Or, if I have, I sure don’t remember doing it. It was weird. For a few seconds I was standing across the street waiting for you guys to come back. Then, suddenly, I was at the Reitzels’ house. Well, sort of at the Reitzels’ house. It was like I was there, but invisible; watching and listening to them without them knowing. They were arguing about going on the Hindenburg, but only for a minute. The next minute they were talking about the crash and saying how thankful they were not to have been on that flight.”
“Why weren’t they?”
“I don’t know.”
“And if they were talking in German, which I expect they were, how could you understand them?”
“Don’t know that, either. But I do know I haven’t spent over a year here. Like I said, first I was across the street, and then I was at the Reitzels, and then I was back here again. Outside the gate. With you. In nineteen-thirty-eight.” He thought for a moment. “Maybe it was Time adjusting itself to compensate for something that wasn’t right. Like it did when Khatcheres was messing with our modern-day lives. People got zapped around then as well. As soon as we got back from Skookaweethp’s time, Jack was zapped from our house in Kelowna to Granddad’s house in Windsor. And so was Granddad, from Uncle Edmond’s house in Eton. You, too, Uncle Trevor. You found yourself back in your own house in York.”
“I did indeed. You might have something there.” He checked Jack’s arm. “Bleeding seems to have slowed down. You look like you’re getting sleepy, old chap.”
“A bit,” Jack admitted.
“Then Paige and Dane should go have those baths Frau Altmeyer talked about. I expect she’s got them ready by now.”
She had. She’d run one for Dane in the guest bathroom, and another for Paige in the family’s own. They both finished at about the same time and returned to Jack’s room in some nightclothes and dressing gowns Frau Altmeyer had found for them.
By then, Jack was asleep. Despite having left their own time during daylight hours, both of them felt quite weary, too.
“Did you leave me any hot water?” Uncle Trevor asked Dane.
“I will do for you a fresh bath, Herr Hastings,” said Frau Altmeyer, getting up from the room’s other chair.
“No, no. Stay where you are. I can draw my own. And I intend to get dressed again afterwards, so you don’t have to look me out any night attire.”
“I doubt I have anything that would fit him anyway,” Frau Altmeyer said to the children as he went off to have his bath. “My husband’s nightshirts would be too small, and they are the only adult-sized ones we have, for it is usually only the children who stay with us. Frieda, Marta, and Gustav. With so many Nazi guests, it has not lately been possible to have Hani here overnight.” She sighed. “Poor Hani can rarely even visit here now. It will be much better for her in America.”
“Are they still going?” Paige inquired, taking Uncle Trevor’s vacated chair and leaving Dane no option but to perch on the side of the bed. “They were talking about it when we saw them last year. They even had tickets.”
“Tickets for the Hindenburg. On the very flight that ended so terribly. By great good fortune, those tickets were stolen and they did not have enough money to replace them. A blessing in disguise. But they have been saving again and soon they will go. This time on a ship, as my daughter wished from the beginning. And now, they will stay there. As will we. The guesthouse is closed just now because it has been sold and there is much to do. I am to go with the others, and my husband will follow once everything is settled.”
“Good,” said Paige. “Better than good. Wonderful. You’ll all be out of Germany when, uh, if war comes.”
“It will come. This we know.”
Uncle Trevor’s bath was a quick one, as he wanted to be ready to go out if he had to. Re-dressing, he congratulated himself on having donned fairly conservative clothing for the visit to the Deutsches Museum back in his own time. Though men’s fashions had definitely changed since the nineteen-thirties, his plain suit, tie, and overcoat were unlikely to draw comment. Returning to Jack’s room, he saw Herr Altmeyer coming up the stairs with a younger man.
“My son-in-law, Helmet Reitzel,” said Herr Altmeyer. “How is the boy?”
“Sleeping,” Uncle Trevor replied. “But we must find someone to remove the bullet. Do you know where the Brases are, Herr Reitzel?”
“I know where they were a week ago. We have not gone to
them because we do not as yet have an automobile.”
“I was unable to borrow my friend’s,” Herr Altmeyer said apologetically. “It was not until we got to his house and found it empty that I remembered he and his family were going to Leipzig for Christmas.”
“But in a few hours, Gottfried will be bringing me his automobile,” said Herr Reitzel. “He has a new one. A present from his high-class friends.”
“And he’s giving you the old one? I didn’t think he liked you all that much.”
“He detests me. And I him. The automobile is destined for someone more deserving. Someone who could not take delivery of it until later today, when Gottfried will be in Austria. He is therefore leaving it at my house.” He gave a grim smile. “He is unlikely to give me permission to use it until the new owner takes possession, but the only one who might tell him is Marta, and he is taking her with him. He has been promising her a trip to Austria ever since Herr Hitler added it to the growing Nazi empire.”
“You’re letting her go?”
“My American brother-in-law says we have opposed her too much. She is thirteen now, an age when many young girls reject the wishes and opinions of their parents. If she thinks we want her to pursue the activities we so abhor, they may become less attractive to her.”
“Reverse psychology?”
“We are ready to try anything, Herr Hastings.”
“What time is Gottfried bringing the auto?” Herr Altmeyer asked, having just heard four chirps from the cuckoo clock guestroom.
“Nine o’clock.”
“Then I would suggest you and Herr Hastings get some rest and go to look for the Brases as soon after that as you are able. You may have any room you wish, Herr Hastings.”
“Thank you. I’ll just check on Jack and chase the other two to bed.”
The other two were already asleep, Paige in his former chair and Dane in Frau Altmeyer’s, to which she had directed him when she noticed him nodding off. A blanket had been placed around each. Uncle Trevor roused them and steered them, unprotesting, toward vacant rooms.
