Page 23 of A Song in the Dark

chapter Eight

Chaisley longed for a nap. Not just any old nap would do, either. It would have to rival Rip Van Winkle to erase her exhaustion.

Two concerts a day for the last two weeks was a grueling pace. All the days seemed to blur together.

Another concert was before her tonight, so she’d lain on the couch in her dressing room to tame her thoughts and rest her mind. But the voices of the hungry wouldn’t leave her alone.

After hearing of the poverty and people struggling along the way, her heart had broken.

So she talked to Melanie and Rick and they devised a new plan of action.

On the morning of her concerts, they went to the market and purchased breads, fruits, and cheeses to give people on the streets.

Melanie and Rick did all the disbursing since she didn’t navigate the crowds as well as they did.

But she sat in the car with the window cracked so she could hear people’s responses.

It was those voices that she heard on repeat. Gratitude that someone cared. Crying out for them to return tomorrow.

If only she could help everyone—fix the world. But she was only one person.

Hitler’s plan was no longer just a whispered secret.

She’d heard many rumblings in the towns they’d visited so far.

But most people chose to go on with their lives and do their best. Not that she could blame them.

Food had to be put on the table. Provisions had to be earned for roofs over their heads.

No one wanted to be gathered up and taken to a work camp.

Many Jews had fled Germany already. From what she’d heard, those who’d had the money and the way to obtain the correct papers and visas had started to leave as early as 1933.

Then there were those who saved up for it and left—going as far as their money would take them.

But they were hard-pressed to find work, and many looked down their noses at them.

Because some countries—like Hungary—were beginning to side with Germany and taking on the same rules and beliefs.

What had this world come to?

“Chaisley.” Melanie’s voice preceded a touch to her shoulder. “Fifteen minutes until you need to be onstage, but Dr. Grafton is here to see you.”

She bolted to a sitting position. “Goodness. I must look a mess. Please send him in.”

“You don’t look a mess at all. He’s right outside, so I’ll get him.” A few steps sounded, then the door opened.

Gracious, she must have been deep in her thoughts. She hadn’t even heard Melanie enter the room. Chaisley swiped at her face. “Dr. G,” she held out her arms. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

He wrapped her in a hug. “I know there’s not much time, and I must get back on the road, but your grandmother asked me to stop in and find out if you’d finished the code you were working on. She suspects that your last letter to her was opened by the Nazis.”

They hadn’t wasted any time, had they? Sweat flushed across her body. Of all the scenarios she’d run through in her head, her mail being surveilled so soon hadn’t been one. A foolish mistake. “Yes, I finished it. But it’s complicated.”

“Complicated is good. Less chance for them to know what we’re communicating.” He touched her cheek. “It’s so good to see you.”

The warmth in his words squeezed her heart. “I’ve missed you.” She leaned into his hand. If only they could go back to simpler times. “I’m so grateful for your help. How do I teach you and Grandmother the new code?”

“I’ll come see you in one week’s time. Make sure Melanie knows the code by then. The four of us will be the only ones who know it. At least for now and until we are confident in it.”

She nodded. Now was not the time to tell him about her conversation with Hitler. He needed his focus, and she didn’t need another person hovering and telling her it had been reckless. “I’ll have everything ready for you in a week.”

“Stay vigilant, you two. Your driver seems to be an honorable man as well. I’m glad he’s around to keep you safe. I better let you get to your performance. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

And with quick footsteps, he was gone.

Melanie grabbed her hand. “The place is packed—again. With lots of young students as well as plenty of other people from the community it would seem.” She tugged at Chaisley’s shoulders and led her over to the chair. “Let me brush out your hair and you’ll be ready to go.”

Melanie pulled the brush through her hair in long, gentle strokes, and Chaisley breathed deep, held it for a count of four, then exhaled and held it again. It was good to get her focus back on the task at hand. Having Dr. G close again made her heart ache for home.

Lord, if there is just one person that we need to meet or help tonight, please guide us.

The new melody that had started in her heart and mind over the last few weeks wouldn’t leave her alone.

It was the saddest melody she’d ever composed, and it had grown exponentially as she worked on it.

There was no ending yet, but perhaps over time there would be a resolve from minor to major.

Something to leave the listener with hope.

“I’ve been praying for you and will be there right beside you. Rick is also going to be onstage again, just in case.”

“Oh?”

“We were talking before Dr. Grafton arrived, and Rick thinks it’s best for your protection to have a ‘show of strength,’ I think is how he put it. You aren’t a weak blind female. You are the world’s best pianist, and you are confident and well-protected.”

She could agree to that. In these tenuous times, it was best to stay ahead of things. “I’ll have to thank him for thinking of that.”

Five minutes later, she was standing at the edge of the curtains on the stage of the Hungarian State Opera House.

She pasted on a smile and lifted her shoulders as she walked out onto the stage to deafening applause. Rick’s footsteps matched her own, bolstering her confidence, making her feel strong and courageous for whatever lay ahead.

Reaching the left edge of the piano, she ran her hand over the smooth surface and gripped it tight as she found the bench with her leg.

Once she was seated and comfortable, she launched into her favorite piece to the wild cheers of the audience. She’d forgotten how boisterous young people could be. It made her smile widen and energized her.

Two and a half hours later, she stood from the piano and bowed.

“ Bis !”

“ Bis !”

“ Zugabe !”

“ Encore !”

Shouts echoed from throughout the crowd.

But even as the audience expressed their hopes for more, she bowed a final time, waved to them, and exited the stage with Rick at her elbow.

Back in the dressing room, she changed out of her formal gown—this time a green satin that was Melanie’s favorite—and put on her comfortable travel dress before they headed back to their hotel for the evening.

Melanie and Rick had gone to keep an eye on the crowd of young people and would return when it was a good time to leave.

Places like this, it was best for her to take her time so the crowds could disperse.

It helped her to exit without being mobbed.

A knock sounded at her door, and she went to it. “Who is it?”

“Rick and Melanie.” A familiar, rich, deep timbre greeted her.

She unlocked and opened the door and felt both of them brush past her. A new scent wafted over her. “What’s the new smell? Rick, is that you?”

A small chuckle. “I ran out of shaving cream and had to try something new. Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, it suits you.” To be honest, she liked it.

A lot.

“We have someone waiting outside who wishes to speak with you.” Melanie’s words weren’t in her usual cadence. Tension laced the rhythm now. “Someone who could use our help.”

Chaisley’s heart leapt. This is what she’d prayed about. That God would use her however He saw fit. Her nerves got the best of her though and she felt a tremble in her arms. What if she didn’t know what to do? What if she couldn’t help them?

Rick cleared his throat. “We’ve heard the basics of their story, and we believe they are who they say they are. It’s a mother and daughter.”

“Good.” She swallowed. It had to be the exhaustion that overwhelmed her at the moment. Now was the time to be strong. Lifting her chin, she went to the chair over by the dressing table and found her seat. “Is there still a crowd outside?”

“Yes. Many of the young people are waiting to see if they can catch a glimpse of you as you leave.”

“Well then, bring the visitors in here. They can sit on the couch. I’m assuming we will need the privacy.”

“You’re right. I can go get them, but let me pack up our things first.” Melanie shuffled around the room.

“I’ll go get them,” Rick volunteered. “That way I can check around and make sure no one else is lurking about. I’ll find the manager and find out when we need to be out.”

Leaning up against the door to the dressing room to guard against anyone who dared to enter, Rick crossed his arms over his chest and listened as Irene and her daughter Helen shared their story with Chaisley. Their clothes were ragged, their faces grim.

Melanie’s face was filled with caution. Chaisley’s—

With compassion.

“Up until November of last year, we lived in Germany. My husband was taken to one of the camps six months ago.” The mother’s frown deepened.

She was gaunt and feeble looking. Even though she was still quite young, perhaps only thirty-five or so, the woman’s appearance was that of someone twice her age.

“We searched for him but were told we would be imprisoned as well if we didn’t go away.

” She sniffed and put a worn hankie to her face.