Page 100 of Winter’s End

“I know how much it must hurt, Evi. But we need to get out of here. Now…”

She watched as Evi gritted her teeth and rose to a sitting position, then helped pull her friend to her feet. Supporting her as best she could, she peered out of the barn, assessed the quiet, and walked the two of them past the fallen Nazis.

“My book bag….” Evi said.

Zoe found it where it fell in the gravel and hoisted it over her shoulder.

The pre-dawn streets were eerily hushed, but the chilling sound of Nazi boots had never seemed closer…

...

“Try to stay awake,” Zoe told her as they boarded the near-empty train. “I do not think you have a concussion, but it would be best to stay awake if you can until we can be certain.”

Evi nodded, doing her best to keep her eyes open and her brain from registering her pain. “Talk to me, then,” she murmured. “It will help me stay awake.”

Zoe cast about for something to say. One thing was uppermost in her mind.

“I have been working with my cousin, the head of a hospital in Heemstede,” she blurted. “We are doing our best to keep refugees safe in a makeshift space at the hospital.”

Evi’s gaze swiveled.

“Mostly they are hiding families who have Jewish children in their care,” Zoe went on. But also there are some Jewish doctors…and some others…”.

Evi turned to face her.

“There is one man in particular I worry for…” Zoe said, grateful for the chance to speak of it. “He is himself a German – but hunted by the Nazis for helping Jewish escapees flee the country after the war began.”

Evis stared.

Zoe sighed. “He is a kind man, Kurt – a caring soul…the kind of man who reads stories to the children to keep them quiet while they must remain in hiding…”

“You care for this man,” Evi said.

A sad smile. “I do... He was one of the people the Germans evicted from their homes in Haarlem – and now he is high on their wanted list…I worry, even if we can help him avoid capture, how and where he might flee.”

Evi sat back. Zoe felt about this German the same way she felt about Jacob.

“Mam’s barge,” she said. “The barge we lived on. It is once again berthed where it was…”

She turned to Zoe, a flash of pain running from her shoulder to her wrist. “I cannot go back there, Zoe. I could never live on that barge again. But there it sits, day after day.”

Zoe frowned.

“I tell you this because if ever – well, should you and your storyteller need to run, there is a key to the ignition in the right-hand kitchen drawer just next to the sink.”

Zoe’s mouth opened.

“You understand?”

Zoe nodded. It was a kind offer, however unlikely. Her heart went out to the girl.

...

The night sky was beginning to lighten. Evi looked out the train window as dawn broke over the tulip fields.

“Oh!” she cried, face pressed against the glass. “Look, Zoe, look!”

She pointed out the window at a sun-splashed patch of red and yellow.