by Liz Tolsma
He wormed his way down the steps. Anna followed in his wake.
They set foot on the wooden platform. She caught up to him. He spoke to her in a low tone. “Hurry, but don’t run.”
The flash of a gray-green German uniform in the crowd caught her eye. Her throat closed, allowing nothing but the smallest amount of air through.
“Go, go. To your left.”
She wound her way through the crowd. “Let us through. My grandmother is ill. Please, let us by.” Babička even gave a convincing groan. The crowd parted for the three of them.
Lord, watch over Horst. Keep him safe, whatever is happening.
A tug on her shawl stopped her. “Do you need help?” A man in a bowler hat motioned in Georg’s direction. “I can take you to the doctor.”
Anna wormed her way to Georg’s side. “Ne. Thank you. The motion of the train made her sick. As soon as we get her home and tucked in bed, she’ll be fine. But her stomach is sour, and I don’t want her to . . .”
The man backed away. “Fine, then. Take her home.”
Georg gave her a thin-lipped smile. For someone taught never to lie, that one had rolled off her tongue.
They cleared the group assembled on the platform to welcome arrivals and to see loved ones off. Warm sun greeted them.
“Which way now?”
Georg scanned the street in both directions.
A commotion broke out behind them. “Stop that man. Stop him.”
“Don’t look back.” Georg shifted Babička’s weight.
Anna clamped her mouth to keep from crying out for Horst. But she had to know.
A gunshot. Two. Three.
“Horst!”
Screams rippled through the crowd.
“Run!” Georg sprinted off with Babička.
Anna turned around. Some people fell to the ground. Some scattered. Some froze to the spot.
“Anna, now!”
She spun back. Georg dashed away. She hurried to catch up.
They raced down a few blocks, passed little shops, their windows sparkling in the light. Passed quaint village cottages, white fences marking the property boundaries. Georg turned several times.
They came to a row of businesses. He hustled into the alley behind them and stopped. He set Babička down and bent over.
Anna raised her arms in order to catch her breath. A minute or two went by before she could speak. “Horst.”
“You can’t think about him.”
“But they might have shot him. He might be—”
“Get that thought out of your mind. Right now, we have to find a way out of here. If he made it, we might be able to rejoin him in Plzeň. But Kuhn will be on the lookout for us. This town isn’t safe.”
“We can’t leave him behind.”
“We have to. You know that. Our plan never was to stay together. As soon as the situation there quiets down, we’ll think about our next move. Right now, rest.”
But how could she rest when Horst wasn’t by her side? When he might be injured. Or worse.
“I’m going back.”
Georg grabbed her so hard he must have left a bruise on her upper arm. “You are going nowhere. How are you going to help him? You’ll only put him in more danger. And yourself. And your grandmother. Think.”
She didn’t want to think. Didn’t want to face what her reality might be.
She hugged herself. Cold. Alone.
God, spare him.
Panting, Horst reached the train car’s exit. A crowd gathered at the edge of the tracks. Czech? They might let him pass. German? Not a chance.
He raised the gun he’d wrestled from Kuhn in the air. “Out of my way, or I shoot.”
Whatever nationality, they moved aside. He made for the steps.
From the top one, he caught a glimpse of Anna and the others hurrying away from the train into the large, many-windowed Beaux Arts station.
“Halten sie.” German. A Nazi soldier. In front of him. “You there, drop your weapon.”
Horst hesitated no more than a second before lowering the gun. That’s all the time his fellow countryman needed. One, two, three bullets ricocheted off the metal steps below him and the metal railing to his side. His stomach rattled around his midsection in much the same way.
He jumped from the top step and landed in the gravel with a thud.
The soldier marched in his direction.
Then, an unforgettable sight. The group of bystanders and passengers formed a barrier around him. They held the Nazi back. Refused to let him through.
Horst sucked in his breath.
“Move, or I’ll shoot all of you.”
The crowd didn’t budge.
A young man grabbed Horst by the wrist. “Come with me.”
Should he? Did he trust this person?
I trust God.
Horst followed him along the length of the train and into the open. Small stones crunched under their feet. Sweat soaked Horst’s shirt.
They ran into a grove of trees some distance from the station. When Horst, winded from the fight and the sprint, didn’t think he could manage another step, the man stopped. “You are a crazy person.”
“Why did you help me?” Horst gulped air.
“You’re German. Why was he after you?”
“I’m a deserter.”
“A coward?”
“Not like you think. I protected a woman and had to go into hiding with her when the Nazis discovered us.” Anna. This man led him away from where they disappeared. “I have to find her. She was with me.”
“You truly are crazy if you go back into the town. I’m sure those Nazis have their German shepherds sniffing out your scent as we speak. Ne, you can’t return there.”
Anna had slipped through his fingers.
He had to trust the Lord. Trust Him to bring them together again someday. Soon.
“Can you help me get to Plzeň?”
“That’s near the front, you know.”
“I know. That’s where they’re headed.”
“Come with me. I don’t have transportation to get you there, but I’ll give you what provisions I have and point you in the right direction.”
“How far is it?”
“A few days’ walk.”
Days. He might not have days. The Nazis might pick him up along the way as they fled the advancing American troops.
But right now, he had no other choice.
“Now what?” Anna moved farther into the alley’s shadow as a group of young girls passed by, their hair rolled, lines drawn down the backs of their legs to imitate stockings. “How are we going to get to Plzeň?”
Georg pushed his glasses up his nose. “We might have to walk.”
“Walk? Plzeň is about eighty kilometers from Žatec. Babička can’t make it that far. Ne, you need another plan. A better one.”
Georg paced in the small space. “The train is out of the question. They’ll have guards posted all over, waiting for us. Probably combing the town for us as we speak.”
“Then we have to leave. Fast.” Freedom lay less than one hundred kilometers to the southwest. So close. So far away.
“Bicycle. Could she ride?”
“Why ask the question when you know the answer?”
A burst of air escaped Georg’s lips. “The only other options are a car or a wagon.”
“And how do you propose getting either one of those?”
Babička rubbed Anna’s arm. “Let the man think. Stop pestering him.”
“I’m sorry. But please, hurry with a plan.”
“I remember waiting for your grandfather.”
“Where did he go?”
“He went to school in Vienna, to study banking. The years passed with a maddening slowness. I wanted them to hurry, so he would return. So we could be together forever.”
“Exactly.”
“But the Lord used our time apart. We grew as people. As Christians, we relied on our faith more than we ever did before. He did c
ome home. What a time of rejoicing and celebration. I appreciated him more because of his absence and never took for granted a single day we had together. Our separation taught me to savor each moment with him. And I did.”
“Now, he waits for you. But I don’t even know if Horst is alive.”
“You’ll find out. Everything happens in the Lord’s time.”
Anna hugged Babička. “It’s hard, because I want it to happen in my time.”
“You’ll look back on this, and it will be a small pebble in a rock quarry.”
“What would I do without you? I wouldn’t have made it this far.”
“You would have. The Lord is faithful.”
“I know your next words.”
Babička nodded, a strand of gray hair sticking out from under her embroidered shawl. “Then follow my advice.”
So easy to say. So much harder to do. Lord, I’m trusting You with my life. With Horst’s. Be with him wherever he is, whatever is happening to him. Have You taken him home? Please, Lord, don’t let that be the case. Watch over him. Bring us together again. In Your time.
She struggled with those last words. With meaning them and trusting them.
But her void wasn’t as deep as it had been. God filled the empty place in her heart. Returned a soft background of music.
Georg sucked in a breath. “I know how we can get out of here.”
Anna straightened. “Don’t leave us in suspense.”
“The Czechs have no petrol for their automobiles. The Germans are driving eastward.”
“That doesn’t sound like a plan.”
“Let him explain, Anna.”
“I have a contact. Well, a man I went to secondary school with. The last I heard, he lived around here. He was a mechanic.”
“A mechanic?”
“Beruško, stop interrupting.”
“Don’t you see? He has access to cars.”
“Can he get petrol?”
“It’s our only chance. We’ll have to find him first. I’m going on nothing more than a hunch. There is no other way.”
If she wanted to be reunited with Horst, she had to get to Plzeň. “It’s an idea, if nothing else. How do we locate him?”
“I’ll go on my own and ask around. The authorities will be on alert for a man and two women, but not a man on his own.”
Her legs shook. “Ne, you can’t go. The people at the train station got a good look at you. But with my shawl over my head, they didn’t catch a glimpse of me. I’ll search. Tell me his name and what he looks like.”
“Edvard Hornick. Tall, skinny fellow, at least in those days. Brown hair, brown eyes. He had a scar over his left eye. One winter, I hit him with an icy snowball, and it cut him.”
With trembling hands, Anna lifted the dark shawl over her head. She stepped from the sunless alley into the waning daylight. Men hustled home from work. Women rushed back from the market with their meager supplies to start supper.
She approached one man. He nodded to a couple of people in passing. He must know the town well. “Pardon me, but do you know Edvard Hornick? He’s an old friend of mine from school. He is a mechanic. Or was. I suspect the war put him out of business.”
The man, his hair parted on the side and slicked back, shook his head. “Never heard of him. But I only came last year.”
She stopped a woman coming from the bakery, no bulge in her shopping bag. “Do you know Edvard Hornick?”
She pursed her lips. “The name is familiar, but I can’t place him. Sorry I can’t help.”
After a few more people indicated they didn’t know Edvard, she entered a dressmaker’s shop. The window sat barren, no dress forms draped in the latest fashions. For years now, Anna, as a Jew, hadn’t been able to buy clothing or material. The same fate now befell the general population as the war’s end approached.
The young woman behind the counter stood. She smoothed her slim-fitting flowered dress and tucked a blonde curl behind her ear. “May I help you, miss?”
Anna’s energy rushed out of her body. She leaned on the counter. Lord, let this be the place. “I’m looking for Edvard Hornick.”
The woman’s blue eyes brightened. “I know him. He’s my brother’s friend.”
Anna relaxed her shoulders. Could it be? God answered her so fast? “Where can I find him?”
“His shop is on the other side of town. I feel sorry for him. His only business in almost six years has been the Nazis. People around here don’t like that he worked with them, but he had to earn a living. With no petrol, his usual customers didn’t come.”
“Can you write down directions for me to find him?”
“What is it you want with him?”
“I’m passing through town. He told me if I ever came to the area to find him. All these years later, here I am. With the war on, I know it’s not the best time, but I always liked him.” Heat rose in Anna’s face from the lie. Hopefully, the woman would think it was from embarrassment over her admission.
“He’s married now, with a little one on the way.”
“I would love to meet his wife, then. And say hello.”
The woman led the way to the door. “I’ll take you to his house. You’ll like his wife. She’s very sweet. My name is Iva, by the way.”
“Anna.”
Iva led the way through the narrow streets of Žatec. Anna would never have found the house without her help. They came to a humble cottage on the edge of town. Iva knocked, and a woman, her belly rounded, answered the door. “How nice to see you, Iva. We were about to sit down to supper.”
“I’m sorry to disturb you. I brought a friend of Edvard’s with me. They went to school together in Prague. This is Anna.”
“Nice to meet you, Anna. Won’t you come in?”
A young man rose from the small table. He rubbed his head, his hair thinning. “I’m sorry, but I don’t remember you. What did you say your name was again?”
I trust God.
“My name isn’t important. I come on behalf of Georg Klima.”
Edvard pointed at her. “Him, I remember.”
“He and I and one other person are on our way to Plzeň. And we need your assistance.”
“I don’t have money for train fare.”
“That’s not what we need.” She swallowed around the lump in her throat, her hands sweating. “We need a car to get us there. Can you help?”
Edvard Hornick stood beside his table, the light dim in this little cottage at the edge of Žatec. Anna held her breath, afraid to hope.
“I don’t know. It’s risky. The only cars I have access to are Nazi vehicles.”
“Do any of them have petrol?”
“Yes, a couple.”
“Enough to get us to Plzeň?”
“I believe so.” But he gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head.
He was going to turn them down. And then what? This was their one and only shot. “I know it’s asking a great deal of you. I’ve come to you on blind faith that you might help us. My husband is waiting for me there, as is Georg’s wife. We don’t want to be trapped in Soviet territory when they’re in American hands.” She glanced at Edvard’s wife. “You know how terrible that would be. To be separated from the one you love.”
He gazed at his bride, his face glowing. She’d hit the mark.
“I can’t imagine being parted with someone I love so dearly. I’ll help you. But why didn’t Georg come himself?”
“Help me find my way back to him, and you can speak to him.”
Edvard’s wife cried as she kissed her husband good-bye. Was Anna wrong for taking him from her while trying to reach Horst? Who knew any more in this topsy-turvy world.
Edvard and Anna hurried through the darkening streets. She led him to the alley where Georg and Babička waited.
Even in the low light, Anna caught how, like little boys, both men grinned when they recognized each other. They slapped each other on the back.
“How good to see you, Edva
rd.”
“And you, Georg. Can you tell me why you sent this woman to help you find your wife?”
When Georg glanced at her, Anna shrugged.
“It’s a bit more complicated than that. Someday, I’ll explain it to you. For now, we need to get to Plzeň. Paní Doubeková can’t walk, and there are reasons I can’t explain to you why we can’t take the train.”
Edvard stared at Georg for a moment. “I can surmise. In school, you always were the first to help a classmate who fell on the playground or who didn’t understand their math equations. Yes, the picture is clearer to me now.”
“Will you help?”
“We’ll have to go under the cover of darkness. A car heading to Plzeň during the day would draw too much attention.”
“All the better.” Georg clapped once. “When can we be on our way?”
“Right now.”
“The last stage of our journey, Babička.” Anna embraced her grandmother.
“I pray you’re right.”
Edvard retraced his steps through the town toward his shop. “The war will end within days. Mark my words. Hitler is dead. How much longer can the Germans go on?”
“Dead?” Georg stopped in his tracks.
“You didn’t hear?”
“Ne. We haven’t had access to any news for several days.”
“General Doenitz is now in charge. Berlin is about to fall.”
Goose bumps broke out on Anna’s arms. Could it be that after six years of war, they were in the final hours of the battle? Czechoslovakia had been the first country to come under Nazi control. And, it looked like it would be the last country to taste liberation.
“It appears they’ll make their final stand around Plzeň. Are you sure that’s where you want to go?”
“Yes, we have to get there.”
They came to the dingy shop. Edvard retrieved the keys to one of the automobiles and started it. Anna slid in beside her grandmother. “You can rest now, Babička. It’s almost over.”
Please, God, let Horst be alive. To come so close and to have him not survive would be too much. She couldn’t stand another loss.
Edvard pulled out of the garage and into the inky night, his headlights off. “We have to be careful. The Americans have bombed Prague and a few other targets.” The news would sadden Horst. All his preservation work for nothing.
