Simple Faith

by Anna Schmidt

  When he emerged from the bedroom and Rosa scurried in with a bucket to empty the tub and prepare it for Josef, Anja was standing at a window next to the front door. She was dressed in boys clothing, but her hair was freshly washed and hung in a braid down her back. She didn’t look a day over seventeen. He went to stand with her, trying to imagine what she really saw as she gazed out that window. But her eyes were closed, and her breathing was even and calm, and he understood that she was waiting—as was the way of her faith. She was waiting for God to reveal His plan for her and to show her the Light.

  Deciding to leave her in peace, he turned away and saw an older man—a man he assumed to be Rosa’s husband—seated in an armchair near the fire. Peter went and sat in the chair opposite him. “I am Peter Trent,” he said, offering his hand.

  “Igan,” the man replied and accepted his handshake.

  “You speak English?”

  The man shrugged. “Enough. When you and the others have eaten, I will take you to the village to meet the car.”

  Peter couldn’t help but wonder if the man had gotten it all wrong. Surely only he was to meet the car from the consulate. He was debating about whether or not to correct Igan when Josef came out of the bedroom, freshly bathed and dressed.

  “Shall we eat?” he asked.

  They all gathered at the table. “I need to speak with you,” Peter murmured to Josef as the two of them took their places.

  “We’ll eat first.”

  Anja helped Rosa serve the meager but hearty food but did not sit down with them. Instead, she stood at the kitchen window, staring out. Peter saw Josef watching her as well. After a few moments, Josef got up and went to her. Resting his hands on her shoulders, he spoke softly to her and a moment later guided her to the table, where she took a chair across from Peter. Rosa set a bowl of the root-vegetable soup in front of her.

  She stared at it and fingered her spoon.

  “Anja, you must eat something,” Josef said as he sat down and resumed eating his soup. “We still have—”

  “I am going back,” she said softly. “I will return to the monastery … to be with Daniel and Lisbeth.”

  “They are on their way here, Anja,” Josef said, and that statement finally got a reaction from her—and from Peter.

  “What are you saying?” Peter asked.

  “When Mikel sent for me, he set the meeting place at the monastery. As soon as I realized that we could all travel together, Lisbeth and I came as quickly as we could.”

  “Was he alive when you got there?” Anja asked.

  “Yes. But, Anja, there was nothing to be done—nothing that could have been done without a hospital and operating theater. I am quite certain that he was bleeding internally and that is what killed him.”

  “Did he say anything?”

  Josef hesitated.

  “Tell her,” Peter urged, not sure what might be coming but knowing that Anja deserved an answer.

  “He said to tell you that you should go with your heart—that you know what will be best for you and for Daniel and that the time is for you to do that.”

  She closed her eyes. “But my grandparents …”

  “You cannot save the world, Anja,” Josef said.

  Peter saw the faintest hint of a smile play across her lips. “I can try,” she whispered. He thought that he had never loved her more—or felt more unworthy of her love in return.

  CHAPTER 19

  Anja could not meet Peter’s gaze. She knew what Mikel’s message meant. He was telling her to save herself and Daniel—to go with Peter. And she so wanted to do just that. She was so very tired—so very lost. She felt as if she had failed everyone she had ever loved. She pushed back from the table and went again to the window. “Someone is out there,” she whispered and instinctively stepped away. Igan went on instant alert as Rosa emerged from the bedroom, the bucket now filled with dirty bathwater. They both glanced nervously at each other and then at the door.

  There was a light knock—a kind of rhythmic tapping. A signal.

  It was Josef who broke the tension. “They are here,” he exclaimed and crossed the room in three strides to throw open the door, letting in a rush of cold mountain air as well as three people—a Basque guide whom he evidently recognized, for he grasped the man’s hand, pulling him inside, and then wrapped his arms around Lisbeth. Daniel scuttled past them all to run to Anja.

  “Mama!”

  She knelt to receive his joyous greeting. And in that moment, she knew that Mikel had been right. They had done all that they could. They were no longer the rescuers—they were now the evaders.

  Daniel was telling her all about the adventure of leaving the monastery and the journey they had made. “We crossed the river,” he said, his voice awestruck.

  Anja closed her eyes against the image of her son scrambling across that suspension bridge. But then she had a vision of Lisbeth making such a journey—how was that possible?

  “How did you cross the river?” she asked.

  Daniel grinned. “It was Brother Francisco’s idea,” he gushed, glancing back at Lisbeth and the guide.

  Lisbeth smiled. “He gave us a monk’s robe, and when we came to the river, Daniel and I disguised ourselves under the robe and hood while Xavier here dealt with the border patrol, telling them that the ‘monk’ had been called to attend a family whose father had died.”

  “And they bought that?” Peter asked incredulously.

  “They did,” Lisbeth said. “We made quite a proper monk, Daniel and I,” she said as she ruffled Daniel’s hair. “And we could not have made it without you, Xavier.”

  The guide ducked his head and mumbled his thanks.

  “Come and eat something,” Josef instructed as he pulled out a chair for his wife and Rosa set a bowl of soup at her place.

  Anja saw Peter touch Josef’s arm. “I’ll be right back,” Josef told Lisbeth.

  The two men moved to a corner of the room, where they spoke in low voices but with increasingly animated hand gestures for a few moments. Anja’s curiosity got the better of her, and she joined them. “What’s the problem?”

  She saw them exchange looks. “Tell me,” she insisted. “I am still part of this.”

  “Peter is concerned that the British will take him under their protection but not the rest of us.”

  “But why wouldn’t they? We are in danger, and there is Daniel—an innocent—not to mention a pregnant American.”

  “Governments are cautious when it comes to such matters,” Peter explained. “If they provide protection for you, Lisbeth, Daniel, and Josef, then that opens them to demands for protection from others—many that they have already turned down.”

  Lisbeth crossed the room and linked her arm through Josef’s. “It’s true, Anja. When we were in Munich, so many of our neighbors and friends tried to get papers to leave, but only a few were lucky.”

  Anja stared at Josef and then Peter. “You are telling us that the British will not permit …”

  “I don’t know, Anja. I haven’t exactly been in the inner circle of British policy. I just can’t see the Brits making an exception in this case when their mission is to recover downed airmen and get them back to their units.”

  She knew that he was right.

  “And yet we are so close,” Lisbeth said, her voice shaking as she cradled the mound that held her unborn child. “There must be a way. I don’t think we can go back.”

  “We will do this,” Anja said. “I do not know how, but we will all leave.” She returned to the table, where she ate every bite of her soup, her brain racing with possibilities that she rejected one by one. But experience had taught her that in time she would find the solution. And if not her, then surely Josef or Peter would have some idea. Josef was right in saying that there was nothing she could do to help her grandparents. Her focus had to be on Daniel and Lisbeth and Josef and their unborn child.

  She was aware that Peter was watching her closely. If they worked together, the
n just maybe they could get everyone to a safe place. She saw that Daniel was still eating his soup, so she got up and approached Peter. “Could I talk to you?”

  “Of course.”

  “Not here,” she added when she saw Josef headed their way. She walked into the kitchen where Rosa was cleaning up after the meal. Anja knew that the woman spoke nothing but her own Basque dialect, so she handed Peter a dish towel and indicated that he should dry the dishes while she washed and Rosa put things away. Rosa nodded repeatedly, agreeing to this new arrangement.

  “You are right,” Anja began. “The British may not agree to take us all, but you and Lisbeth are American. They will take you.”

  “I’m not going anywhere without you and Daniel.”

  She sighed wearily. “Don’t be a fool. You would then be absent without leave—and if caught, you would be tried and sent to prison.”

  “What do you suggest?” He sounded irritated.

  She would have to learn that he did not like not being in charge. I will have to learn? That implied a need to know him better—a future together. The thought made her pause. They were so very different. How could they possibly make a life together even if they did survive?

  “I suggest,” she began, with no idea what came next until she spotted Josef sitting with Lisbeth at the table. “I suggest that you and Josef trade identities—just until we can reach the embassy in Madrid.”

  “So that works for Josef and Lisbeth. What about you and Daniel?”

  “And you,” she reminded him.

  “Forget me. Anja, please tell me part of your plan does not include going back on your own.”

  “No. I am not foolhardy.” She frowned as she watched her beloved son show Josef the small carved mountain goat that he and Peter had made together. “What if Daniel goes with Josef and Lisbeth? They could say that they found him wandering in the countryside. Surely the British would take him as well.”

  “Possibly.” He wiped a bowl over and over again, long after it had dried. He was thinking through her idea, and that meant he was considering it. With that in mind, she pressed forward.

  “You and I can make it to the embassy on our own, Peter. I know we can.” She looked up at him, willing him to believe in her, to work with her.

  “Let’s ask Josef what he thinks.”

  If he had suggested asking Lisbeth, she would not have been surprised, but she knew that because of Josef’s German heritage, Peter had never fully trusted him. This was progress.

  Peter signaled Josef to join them and explained Anja’s idea.

  “It just might work to get us all to the embassy, but once there …”

  “One step at a time,” Peter said. “How far to San Sebastian?”

  “If we leave soon, we can be there by dusk at the latest. Igan says that we’ll go to a pub run by a British couple where we will get clothes for the more tropical climate of southern Spain and new identity papers. A cab will take us from there to Bilbao and the British consulate there.”

  “That will take about two hours by car,” Anja calculated. “Depending on roadblocks and such of course, we can possibly make it there by late tonight. That’s when we’ll make the switch. Josef, you will become Peter traveling with Lisbeth, an American, and Daniel, a boy separated from his mother.”

  “We’ll stay overnight at the consulate,” Josef added. “Then tomorrow the consulate will provide us with an official car with diplomatic immunity to take us to the embassy in Madrid. From there it will be on to Gibraltar.”

  Anja felt a sense of relief. They would move forward. There would no doubt be roadblocks along the way, but they would meet them and overcome them. “I’ll go tell Lisbeth the plan,” she said.

  It came as no surprise that Lisbeth did not question their idea. Indeed, she enthusiastically endorsed it. “I’m sure it will work. When do we go?”

  “As soon as possible.”

  “Is there time for us to all meet for worship? We should pray on this, Anja—together.”

  “Yes. You’re right. Let me speak with Daniel and explain things to him.”

  While she talked to her son, she saw Josef begin to arrange the sparse furnishings of the farmhouse into a circle. Peter was helping him, and apparently Igan was explaining to Rosa why the two men were rearranging the room.

  In silence they all took seats and closed their eyes. Even Rosa, Igan, and Xavier joined the circle. Anja saw how naturally Peter shifted into the routine of silent worship. She wondered if he was recalling Christmas Eve when they had all gathered for worship in the café. That seemed so long ago, and so much had shifted and changed in the days that had followed. It was April now, and as they moved farther south, it would feel more like spring with warmer breezes and flowers in bloom. After the winter they had known, spring would be a welcome change.

  She closed her eyes, trying to clear her mind and open her heart to receive the clarity of God’s message. But she continued to recall all that she and Peter had shared over these weeks and months. She thought about the train ride in the coffin and the stay at Gisele’s, and when she thought about their walk in the snow in Paris, her heart beat a little faster. She glanced at Peter and blushed when she realized that he was watching her with eyes filled with such tenderness. It was as if his love for her was a physical force. She wondered if her love for him was as transparent.

  They left that afternoon for the two-hour hike to San Sebastian. Word had been sent ahead to the pub, and the British couple received them warmly. As promised there were fresh clothes more suited to the warmer weather of Spain and new identity papers that were closer to their true identities than anything Peter had carried for the last few months. He handed his papers to Josef and took the German’s for himself.

  They introduced Daniel as a boy who had been separated from his family and who was now traveling with Lisbeth. “We will see that he has papers that will give him the best possible chance of going all the way to England with you,” the pub owner assured Lisbeth. She turned to Peter and Anja. “I’m afraid the cab will not hold all of you, so we have arranged for bicycles for you two if that will suit.”

  “That will suit just fine,” Peter assured her.

  “Excellent. Give my husband an hour to change the boy’s papers while you change clothes. Then you can be on your way.”

  An hour later, the cab had been sent for and the bicycles were waiting by the front entrance. “You should ride ahead,” the pub owner instructed Peter. He gave them a description of the car that he was expecting and told them that when they saw it they should turn onto a side road or cross a field as if they were headed in another direction. “He will not stop if he sees anyone else in the area. Find cover and stay there until you see the car return. Presumably your friends here will be inside and you will follow—at a distance.”

  “And if they are not inside?”

  “Then assume that something has gone wrong. They will be safe here as will you, and we can try again tomorrow.”

  Peter nodded. He and Anja said their good-byes and then peddled on down the road. They had gone some distance, and he was beginning to think that perhaps the car would not come, when he heard an engine backfire and saw a battered sedan heading toward them. Peter turned off the road and began peddling along a path headed away from the road. Anja followed.

  Once the car passed, they dismounted and walked their bikes back closer to the road where there was an outcropping of rocks and a cluster of trees. They laid the bikes on the ground beneath the trees and hid behind the rocks to wait for the sound of the car returning. The sun had set, and it would soon be dark.

  “There’s no doubt that we will hear that car,” Peter joked. He was nervous but not because of the escape plan and everything that might go wrong. He was nervous because, for the first time in weeks, he and Anja were alone together and could speak freely. Unlike in the mountains, there had been no warnings to remain silent. He had longed for a moment like this, and now he had no idea what to say. “I’m
sorry about Mikel,” he blurted.

  “I should have known how truly ill he was. Perhaps it was because I would not have been able to do anything to help him that I made myself believe that he was getting better.”

  “You did the best you could, Anja. Mikel knew that you were there, and for him that was the best possible medicine.” Okay, that was stupid. “I didn’t mean that the way it came out. I only meant to say …”

  She placed her hand on his. “I know what you meant to say, Peter. Thank you. It helps more than you know.”

  They were quiet for a moment, but she had not moved her hand from his. He linked his fingers with hers and chuckled. “I was not exactly Mikel’s favorite person, you know.”

  “He was jealous.”

  “Why? He was this mountain man who could do everything. How could he be jealous of me?”

  She hesitated for a long moment, and then she looked up at him. “Because he knew that I love you.”

  He felt as if all the breath had been forced from his lungs. He had dreamed of hearing her say this. He had spent hours imagining the life they would share. And all the while he had told himself that it would never be.

  “Well, say something,” she urged anxiously.

  “I love you—you know that. You have known that.”

  “But?”

  He pulled her into his arms and kissed her with all the pent-up passion that he had suppressed for weeks now. “No buts,” he whispered when they were finally forced to take a breath. “When this is all finally over, I want to spend the rest of my life with you and Daniel. I want to live wherever you choose—with your grandparents or in the same place as Lisbeth and Josef. Wherever you say. I want to have children with you—brothers and sisters for Daniel. I want to do wonderful things with you—change the world with you….” The stuff of his dreams came pouring out.

  She laid her finger on his lips. “Yes,” she whispered and then kissed him gently.