Hero (3 page)

Once more she dismounted.

She looked at him. “Do you need to pee?”

Izaak nodded and disappeared behind a tree.

“We're going for the last stretch,” she said after he'd climbed back on his seat. “We have to hurry to get there before eight.”

Izaak nodded again. He knew that was called curfew. After eight o'clock the Germans didn't allow anyone to be out on the street.

The trip seemed to take forever. Izaak tried not to think. He rested his head against Els's back and looked sideways. Cold and numb, he watched black crows sitting on a fence. Ducks made smooth landings on the water, and hundreds of seagulls swooped down on a newly plowed field. He watched until his eyelids drooped and his head sagged.

A loud rumbling sound startled Izaak awake. He almost lost his balance. The bike swerved. He grabbed Els's coat. It took him a second to realize that the roar came from the sky.

Els stopped and let him stretch his legs. Izaak looked up. He squeezed
his eyes and made out a formation of planes.

“They're going to Germany,” Els said. “They're going to drop bombs to make Germany stop the war.”

Good, Izaak thought. From the attic window, he'd often seen the white trails crisscrossing the sky. He'd trailed the patterns with his finger until the lines faded away. He wished hundreds, no, millions of planes would drop bombs on Germany. As soon as the war stopped, he could go back to his family. Tears threatened again when he thought of his parents.

“Time to go, Jan. We have two hours left to get to the farm. One hour left till curfew.”

Izaak climbed on the bike. Two hours seemed like a long time. He didn't feel so good. His head was light and the ball rolled and rolled in his stomach. He didn't watch the landscape anymore. Dusk settled over the fields. He leaned his head against Els and closed his eyes.

The bike skidded to a halt. Izaak slid to one side. As Els jumped off, Izaak fell from the bike onto the stonepaved road. He wrapped his arms around his head and rolled onto his side. A sharp pain shot through his hip. At the same time, a rumbling sound grew louder. He opened his eyes. Darkness surrounded him. Els had disappeared. Panic flooded his chest. He cried out.

In the next moment, Els jumped up from the slope of the canal and screamed at him, “Jan! We have to hide! A truck! Soldiers!”

Izaak tried to get up, but his legs didn't work, just like in a nightmare he'd had once. A huge wolf had been chasing him. He had wanted to run, but his legs wouldn't move. As the wolf pounced on him, Papa had been there to comfort him. Now the wolf had turned into a military truck full of soldiers and Papa was far away.

“Jan! Move!” Els screamed. “The
soldiers must not find us! We have to hide! They'll kill us! It's past curfew!”

Izaak jumped to his feet fast as a cannonball. He grabbed Els's hand and she pulled him down the slope of the canal that ran alongside the road. As he slid down, he noticed the bicycle down in the reeds.

“Stay flat on your stomach!” Els yelled in his ear. “Keep your head down!”

Izaak tried to follow her instructions as the rumbling came closer. His heart pounded in his ears. He heard Els's loud breathing beside him. She'd put her arm around his shoulder. They lay still, just like Izaak and Mama in the hiding place, both afraid to breathe when the soldiers searched the attic.

The earth trembled when the military truck passed by.

Izaak did not move. Exhaust fumes filled his nostrils. Finally, Els raised her head. She looked both ways. She pulled Izaak to his feet, found her bike and dragged it back up the slope.
Izaak followed. The hand in his pocket squished past the bun until he felt the metal horse.

“That was close,” Els panted. “We're almost there.”

Dazed, Izaak mounted again and off they went. Darkness followed them, and the tall outlines of trees crept closer and closer. Finally, Els turned into a lane with tall trees on either side.

That night, Els and Izaak slept in the soft hay of the barn of a strange farm. Early next morning, before the farmer was up, they continued their trip north to Friesland.

“He doesn't talk and he doesn't eat.”

Els pushed Izaak ahead of her into the farm kitchen. She took off her raincoat.

All day, Els had ridden hard and Izaak had sat dazed and confused on the carrier. Long past curfew, they had entered the lane to a large farm. The farm buildings loomed ahead of them. Izaak had arrived at his new home. The ball in his stomach was bigger than ever.

A large woman, her hands on her hips, looked at Izaak. Izaak looked
at the floor. The next moment he was squashed in an enormous hug.

“Oh, you skinny minny,” the woman sang. “No wonder you don't talk and can't eat. Look what's happened to you. You're far away from your parents. You don't even know where they are. A strange girl comes, plops you on her bike and takes you all the way to Friesland to a farm with people you've never seen before.”

She pushed Izaak into a big arm-chair close to the window and ruffled his hair. “I'm Aunt Anna,” she said, “and you are Jan de Vries, our nephew from Amsterdam. Welcome to our farm.” Izaak looked at her face. Her eyes sparkled. Strands of gray curly hair had escaped from a bun at the back of her head. She wore a checkered apron over a flowery dress and she smelled of warmth, animals and food.

“Tomorrow you'll meet all the animals and the people who live and work at the farm. Last night we brought the horses inside for the winter.”

Horses. That was the last thought that crossed Izaak's mind before his head touched the armrest of the chair.

Izaak awoke to the chirping of birds. He reached beside him, expecting to find Mama. Then he remembered.

Light footsteps made their way to his door. They stopped. Izaak held his breath.

The door opened. Izaak sat up.

“Sun is shining. The cows are up!” a girl's voice sang. She bounced into the room and pulled up the blackout curtains. Sunlight poured in. Izaak looked around. The single bed he'd slept in stood against the wall. A large dresser and a chair stood against the opposite wall. Two tall windows let the sun in. He looked at the girl. She stood at the window and stared at him. The sun lit her long wavy hair with fire. Freckles were splashed all over her face. Her eyes, big and oval, questioned him.

“I'm Annie. You're Jan and you're eight,” she sang.

“Eight-and-a-half.” Izaak was startled by his own voice.

“Els said you didn't speak.” She marched to the door and left the room.

Els. Izaak remembered. Did she live on the farm too?

“Wait!” Izaak called. He jumped out of bed and ran out the door. He still wore his clothes from yesterday. He stood in the doorway and listened. Which way to go now?

“The cows are eating breakfast.”

Annie's high voice guided him along the hallway, down seven steps and another hallway till he walked into a brightly lit kitchen. He vaguely remembered the room from last night. Voices, low and deep, smells of food, the banging of cutlery overwhelmed him. He stopped in the doorway.

“So, this is Jan.” A deep voice drew Izaak's eyes to a man with a shiny bald head, sitting at the head of a large
rectangular table. Sharp cheekbones carved his face. Dark eyes looked at Izaak. Izaak's heart beat fast.

“Uncle Piet.” Annie climbed on the man's lap and patted his head.

“We need to put Jan out to pasture with the cows, Annie,” Uncle Piet said. “He's skin and bone and white as milk.”

Izaak didn't know what “out to pasture” meant.

“Oh, he's just kidding.” The woman whom he had met last night, Aunt Anna, took his hand and led him to the table.

They passed a large wicker basket beside the black stove. A long-haired dog with black and white patches lifted its head. A calico cat and a black cat with white paws were curled up beside the dog. Izaak wasn't used to animals. His family had never owned a cat or a dog.

“The dog's name is Bijke.” Annie hopped from Uncle Piet's lap and crouched down beside the basket.
“The black cat is Moorke.” She lifted the calico cat in her arms. “This is my favorite. I named her Princess.”

Izaak tried to take it all in, but Aunt Anna pulled him away from the basket.

Looking around the large table, he saw Els. She smiled at him. Slouched in a chair beside her sat a boy much older than Izaak. His hair hung over his eyes. The skin on one side of his face was a deep reddish purple. Izaak's stomach tightened. The boy didn't look up.

Annie pointed at the boy. “That's Gabe,” she said. “Gabe doesn't talk much either, but his birthday is coming up soon. He's going to be sixteen. And this is Albert Adema.” Annie pointed to the person beside Gabe. “He lives in the house beside the farm and has lots of children.”

A smile lit up the man's face. “Hi, Jan. The more children, the merrier. My son Jaap is the same age as you.”

Izaak didn't know what to say or
where to look. He wasn't used to so many people.

“All right, Annie.” Aunt Anna carried steaming plates to the table. “Make some room for Jan. And you have to eat quickly or you'll be late for school.”

Izaak slid into a spot between Annie and Albert.

“Is Jan coming to school with me?” Annie shoved a spoonful of food into her mouth.

“Not yet.” Aunt Anna placed a flat bowl in front of him. “He has to get used to the farm and the people first.”

“And he needs some meat on his bones,” Uncle Piet added, “or the wind will blow him over.”

Izaak looked at the table. A basket was filled with thick slices of dark rye bread. Tall glasses of milk stood at each place. A chunk of cheese as big and round as a wheel was ready for slicing. And wheat porridge steamed in Izaak's bowl. He hadn't seen that
much food since … He stirred the porridge in his bowl and took a small spoonful. It was warm and sweet. He was glad Aunt Anna had only given him a little bit. His stomach felt so full. The ball was still there. While Izaak ate, cutlery clattered and voices hummed in the warm kitchen.

“Do you think the Allied troops will get here before the winter?” Albert moved his finger around his bowl in a circle and licked it.

“The Germans seem to have a stronghold at the rivers,” Uncle Piet answered in a deep voice. “As long as the Allied armies can't cross the rivers, we will be at war.”

Chairs scraped on the wooden floor, and the men got up. They took their caps from a row of hooks on the wall beside a wooden door and left, followed by Bijke, the dog. Els got up too. She ruffled Izaak's hair. “I know you will have a good safe place here.” Els took her raincoat off the hook and was off.

“Where is Els going?” Izaak looked at the closed door.

“We don't know,” Aunt Anna said. “She is always on a secret mission.”

Els was brave, Izaak thought. She could have been caught by the soldiers on the way to Friesland with him.

Izaak's eyes followed Annie as she hopped around the kitchen, petting the cats.

“Here.” Aunt Anna held out a red coat. “Skedaddle!”

Annie smiled at Izaak as she went out.

“As soon as Nel comes, we'll get the bathtub ready.” Aunt Anna said. “After, I'll take you to the stables and the barn. You're safe here, Jan. The soldiers won't find you.” She carried the plates and cups to the sink. A large, black kettle on the stove blew ringlets of steam. Izaak watched them curl up.

“Have you been on a farm before?”

Izaak shook his head. His throat
closed. How he wished he was back in the attic with Mama and Mrs. Waterman.

“Now, now.” Aunt Anna stood beside him and stroked his hair. Her arm tightened around his shoulders. She held him just like Mama, but she smelled of wood and farm and Mama smelled like …

The door opened and closed.

“Good morning, Nel.” Aunt Anna greeted a tall woman with strawberryblond hair.

“Good morning.” The woman hung her coat on a hook. She shivered. “It's a good day to stay close to the stove,” she said. “This must be Jan.”

“This is Nel.” Aunt Anna said. “She's Albert's wife. She helps out every morning. Can you get the basin, Nel? Jan needs a little soaking.”

Nel disappeared again and returned a minute later with a galvanized tub. She placed it in front of the stove. Aunt Anna filled the tub with the
water from the kettle. Nel added a bucket of cold water.

Izaak shivered. He couldn't remember the last time he'd taken a bath. Mrs. Waterman had thought it too dangerous.

“I brought some clothes that Jaap has outgrown, but they'll be too large for Jan.” Nel hung a pair of brown pants and a checkered shirt over the back of a chair and left the kitchen.

Aunt Anna handed him a washcloth, a towel and a bar of soap. Then she left the kitchen as well.

Izaak looked around. The cats slept in the dog basket. The grandfather clock ticked.

He took off his clothes and climbed into the tub. The warm water hugged his shivering body.

“Here, Bijke!” Aunt Anna patted the dog. “Say hello to Jan, you lazy dog.”

The dog wagged its tail. Hesitantly, Izaak placed his hand on the dog's head. Bijke sniffed his pants. The dog's tongue reached up to lick Izaak's arm, then his hand. The soft wet tongue tickled his skin. Izaak laughed.

Aunt Anna took his hand. “We'll meet the calves next.” Together they walked the length of the barn past farm equipment. Izaak looked up at the high beams and piles of hay in the loft. Bijke followed closely.

Izaak's nostrils filled with the smell of hay, manure and animals.

Aunt Anna opened a door and they entered another part of the barn. Light shone in through two square windows and fanned out through the openings of the gate, leaving a striped pattern on the straw.

When he looked through the bars of a gate, Izaak discovered black and white calves. The floor was covered with a thick layer of yellow straw. Three calves were lying down, but most of them were gathered around a trough filled with milk. One calf with a black face was pushing aside two others, to get closer to the trough. Another calf stared at the visitors, his eyes large and questioning.