A Way Through the Sea (15 page)

That went on for a few intense moments, and Peter returned to the bedroom to keep watch with his sister. The two men must have moved to the courtyard; for a moment, Peter couldn’t hear their voices anymore. They would have to hurry and decide what they were going to do with this extra man.

In the meantime, the side door opened, and Henrik came quietly up the stairs from the alley and the courtyard. Peter was too surprised at seeing Henrik again in the apartment to say anything.

“I have to...” Henrik mumbled as he raced into the small bathroom down the hall. “Couldn’t wait until we got to Sweden. We still have a minute until everyone is loaded.”

“But, Henrik—” Peter started to whisper as Henrik slammed the door in his face. “Henrik, hurry!” He was thinking about the extra passenger and the nervous Mr. Lumby.

“No worry,” Henrik called from the washroom. “I’ll be out in just a second.”

A second turned into a long minute until Henrik was out again. Elise poked her head out of Peter’s room.

“What’s going on?” she asked.

“That’s what I want to know,” said Peter. They all ran down the side stairs, expecting Mr. Lumby and Mr. Abrahamsen at the door. No one was there.

“No!” cried Henrik. He ran as fast as he could past the garbage cans in the dark courtyard and up to the side alley door.

Elise and Peter didn’t know what Henrik was doing, but they knew he couldn’t go running out into the street, making a scene. There were still too many soldiers strolling around. They both sprinted after him.

“Henrik!” whispered Elise. “You can’t go out there!”

He hesitated for just a moment at the door, which gave Peter and Elise a precious second to catch up. Of course, Henrik could outrun both of them, broken arm or no broken arm.

“I’m leaving,” he called from the doorway. They were three steps away.

As Henrik opened the door to run out, Peter jumped at the doorknob as it started to open, and Elise grabbed Henrik’s shoulders.

“No! I have to go!” Henrik yelled.
There had better not be any soldiers out there right now,
thought Peter,
or they’ll hear us for sure.

“You can’t, Henrik,” said Elise. “Let’s look out there first.”

Peter was having a tug of war with the door and Henrik, and even though Henrik was tugging, he was starting to give up against his two friends.

“You run out there now,” said Peter, “and you might as well turn yourself in to the Germans.”

Henrik looked straight at Peter, and his eyes looked wild. Peter still held on to him, then Elise carefully, quietly, peeked out.

“It’s gone,” she whispered.

Henrik didn’t say anything but looked out himself. Finally, he let Peter gently pull him back from the doorway. Then he turned around, groaned, and sank to his knees. “How could they have left without me? How? I promised my dad I would leave on time with the third car, and they just drove off without me!” His shoulders shook, and Elise and Peter held on to him once more. They let him cry.

“That’s what I was trying to tell you,” said Peter, explaining how the last passenger had shown up unexpectedly at the door. “I guess Mr. Lumby must have told him he could come along. I thought for sure they saw you come back into the house, but they must not have, so he probably thought you were still...”

“Still in the trunk of the car.” Henrik finished the sentence. He was sniffling now as they walked back up the stairs. “I closed it after me real quietly so no one would see a car sitting out there in the alley with its trunk open. And the people waiting in the car were all hunched down, so no one would see them either.”

The three of them just looked at one another. No one had a clue what to do next.

“It’s my fault,” said Peter. “I should have told Lumby right away.”

“No, it’s not your fault,” said Henrik, holding on to Peter’s shoulder. “It was my fault for coming back in. It all happened so fast, and Lumby didn’t even say goodbye or anything.”

“Well, while you boys are trying to figure out who to blame, let’s go up to the window to see if we can still see them,” Elise finally suggested. “Maybe someone will notice you’re gone, and they’ll come back for you.”

Henrik frowned. “I’d rather run after them.”

“We’ll figure something out,” said Elise.

Peter didn’t say anything else. But he kept expecting a soldier to come busting through the door any minute after the scene they had made, and after all the noise and yelling.
We could have given away a whole carload of people if we had started running down the street after them.

But nothing happened, so they went back to Peter’s bedroom window. From there, they could see down the street, almost five blocks to Star Street. Two blocks down was the large old Mercedes Benz, the one with the trunk Henrik was supposed to be in, but it wasn’t moving. They all strained their eyes in the half light to see three German soldiers, with rifles drawn, surrounding the car. As the three friends stared, horrified, two of the soldiers grabbed a door and yanked it open. In a moment, people were spilling out into the street: two from the front, four more who had been hiding in the back. No one, of course, came out of the trunk, which didn’t surprise anyone looking from Peter’s room, but Mr. Lumby was probably mystified. Before long, everyone had been hauled up and lined against the car by the gun pointing soldiers, even the Lumbys’ young niece.

Elise turned away from the window. “Even the little girl,” she whispered in shock.

All Peter heard for the longest time was the ticking of the wall clock out in the living room. None of them could cry.

Finally, Elise looked at Henrik. “Listen, Henrik, I know what you’re thinking, and it wasn’t your fault.”

“How do you know? Didn’t the soldiers just come out of the shadows and stop the car? Maybe they heard us.”

“That’s silly,” said Peter. “If anybody had heard us, we wouldn’t still be here.” He wasn’t so sure, but that sounded right to him. Peter was afraid to look out the window anymore, afraid to see something else horrible happen. But in a few more minutes he did, and the car was still there, pulled to the curb. No one else was in sight, though—no Danes, no Jews, no German soldiers. Peter’s stomach felt tight and his hands sweaty.
Maybe the soldiers are waiting for more people to drive down the street, and they’ll just step out of the shadows...

“This isn’t turning out to be much of a rescue for you,” Peter finally said to Henrik, who by now was just sitting on the floor with his head in his hands.

Elise didn’t say a word but sat on the bed, staring vacantly across the room. Suddenly her eyes lit up. “Hey, wait a minute,” she said. “Maybe there’s a chance Uncle Morten hasn’t left the harbor yet. It’s just about dark now, and if we keep to the alleys, and stay behind things and look out for anybody coming, we can probably make it down to the harbor without the Germans bothering us.”

“Well, I don’t know,” said Henrik.

“Come on,” she said, bravely now. “We’re just three kids, remember? One with a broken arm even. What would they care? You have any better ideas?”

Peter wasn’t so sure either, but if there was a chance that his uncle was still around...

Henrik looked like he was thinking it over. Then he stood up.

“Okay,” he said, sounding more sure of himself. “But only if you stay here, Elise. I don’t want you getting into more trouble for me. It would only be—"

“Absolutely not!” said Elise, the color rising in her face. She sounded the same way she did when she was in the school auditorium that day, scolding the local bullies. “First of all, it was my idea. And second of all, I’m not staying here alone!”

“But your mom told you two to stay here, didn’t she?” Henrik was giving it one last try, but he was going to lose this argument.

“Just like your dad told you to get in the last car, right?” Peter said. “We’re going with you, and that’s that. Besides, we’ll be back way before anyone else.”

Just in case their mom or dad got home before they did, though, Peter scribbled a note and left it on the kitchen table: “Mom/Dad: Elise and I had to go with Henrik down to the boat to catch Uncle Morten. Henrik missed the car. Back soon. Sorry, emergency! P & E.”

Peter knew they would have a lot of explaining to do when they got home, especially if his parents got home before they did. But yes, this was a life or death emergency if he ever saw one.
What choice do we have? We have to get Henrik down to the boat.
Still, he was afraid his loudly beating heart would give them away as they crouched in the alley.

Peter put his head down to the street before looking out around the corner of the building. It was a trick he’d read about in his Boy Scout handbook on tracking animals. “If you put your head way down to the forest floor before looking out behind a tree,” he whispered, “the animal will be less likely to notice you.”

“What animal are you talking about?” Elise whispered back. He just shook his head.

They decided that if anyone chased them, they would lead the chaser on for a minute, then split directions, and then meet at the boathouse. All Peter could think of as they tiptoed out across the street was the picture of that carload of Jews, stopped and dragged out like animals. Henrik looked down the street in the direction of where it happened.

“I’m glad you weren’t in the trunk,” Peter whispered at Henrik.

“Shh...”

They paused at the next corner, avoiding the busier streets, even though there was hardly anyone out at this time. When it got close to being dark, people in Helsingor pretty much stayed inside, especially lately. Peter looked up at the second floor windows, all of them dark with blackout blinds. Everyone else was probably sitting in their living rooms, reading a book or something.
So what are we doing out here?

Down Stone Street, Peter could see a few dim lights coming out of a pub. Local people mostly stayed away from it because it had become a hangout for German soldiers. If they didn’t go past it, though, they would lose precious time going all the way around the block.

“Come on!” Henrik surprised Peter and Elise by ungluing his feet first. They all knew the way. As they shuffled closer, Peter tried to melt into the sides of the buildings and shops. Olsen’s Bakery. He and Elise took turns fetching their fresh morning bread there, even though their dad grumbled that there weren’t any pastries anymore, not since the war had started. Kastrup’s Women’s Clothing. Mrs. Andersen was getting to be an expert at mending things lately, and nowadays she only stopped at the window for a quick look. Stone Street Apotek—the pharmacy. Mr. Andersen was good friends with Mr. Parslov, the pharmacist. Elise and Peter had to run down there to pick up medicine for their mom every once in a while. Now the German pub was only two doors away, and Peter could almost feel the eyes, looking out the door, looking for Henrik.

Even though it was on the opposite side of the street, they could hear the Germans laughing and chattering as if they were in the same room with them. Peter couldn’t understand much—just a word here and there—which was probably a good thing.

Just then the pub door banged open hard, and a young soldier marched out into the middle of the deserted street. Peter looked over.
Not again!
Like a flock of birds changing direction all at once, the three of them ducked into a door well, a little covered doorway spot in front of the pharmacy, and hugged the shadows tightly.

It was dark in the entry, but there were a few small night lights on inside the store. Their light just made it out to the street. Right about then, Peter was wishing he could trade spots with his pigeon. Any pigeon.
I’d settle for being that size right now.

For what seemed like forever, they froze like mannequins in the dark doorway. During that same forever the soldier crossed the street, paused and sniffed, looked both directions, then bent over and held his knees. The soldier was only a few feet away now. He looked through his pockets for something, then he teetered a little as he brought out a cigarette and tried to light it. It took him three matches to find his mouth, and Peter was surprised he didn’t burn his nose.

Peter could feel Henrik’s ankle twitching like crazy, and he knew his friend had stopped breathing a long time ago. Elise was behind them, silent. Peter didn’t dare look.
Leave, leave, leave—Go away!
Finally the soldier got his cigarette lighted, then followed the orange glow uncertainly out into the middle of the street. If he turned just a little to the right, he would be staring straight at the three mannequins in the doorway. He took another step closer.

“Run!” Henrik grabbed Peter’s shoulder, trying to drag him out of the doorway, and started sprinting down the street. Peter grabbed Elise’s hand. Then he took one look at the surprised, drunk soldier and forced his feet to move.

“Can’t chat, sorry,” Henrik called back as they ran down the street past the startled soldier. “Past my bedtime.”

If the man was going to shoot, thought Peter, he wouldn’t be able to hit the side of City Hall, even if he were standing next to it.
Crazy Henrik.

Peter forced his legs to move faster and faster, and Elise seemed to match him footstep for footstep. All they heard was the pounding of their feet and the soggy soldier cursing in the darkness behind them. They were too scared to split up as they had planned. Two blocks later, Henrik slowed to a trot and looked over his shoulder. Elise and Peter puffed up behind him.

“One down, how many to go?” he asked as they stopped in another dark entryway.

“No joke, Henrik,” puffed Peter. “That was pretty close.” In the back of his mind, it seemed to Peter that they had once had the same conversation. They kept walking, even more carefully now, and he remembered the close call with the lost German soldier at the hotel. But there was no more time to think back. Two more blocks of shadow to shadow walking, and they made it to the harbor.