The Gypsy Moon (32 page)

“It’s such a beautiful night, Dai,” Gabby said. “I wish we were on a less dangerous mission.”

“We’ll make it,” he said. “You’ll have to help me with directions. We’ll want to stay on the least-traveled roads.”

“I know. Go on up to where the road forks and turn right.”

“I wish it were raining and miserable,” he said after they had walked several blocks.

“Why? I think the light of the moon makes it much easier to see.”

“It does, but if it were raining, the Germans would be less watchful.”

The two were relieved when they had made it out of the city and into the countryside. “We don’t have to worry much about these country roads, I suppose. We’re more likely to have trouble at the checkpoints.”

“Our first checkpoint should be fairly easy,” Gabby said. “They’ve been working on one of the main roads, and I’ve had to pass it several times going to the hospital. There are usually only two privates there—no officers. I don’t think they’re expecting anything. They just waved me by after the first time I went through.”

“I hope that’s the case tonight.”

****

“The checkpoint is just ahead there,” Gabby said. It was just before sunrise, and they had paused once to rest and eat a bite of breakfast.

“There are just two guards, you say?” Dai asked.

“Yes, usually only two.”

“I may have to kill them.”

Gabby was caught by surprise. She stared at him and saw that he was deadly serious. “I hope not.”

“So do I, but we’ve got to get through.”

As they got closer, they stood up straight and walked with authority. The checkpoint was simple enough. There was no gate, but two German privates had built themselves a shelter, and now they were cooking up some breakfast over a fire. As they approached, they heard one of them say, “Look, Heinrich, someone’s coming.”

As they came closer, the taller of the two, the one named Heinrich, said, “You fellows wanna play some cards?”

Dai was the one to answer, as they had planned. “Sorry, guys, we haven’t got time today.”

“Aw, surely you can spare twenty minutes. There’s not much going on around here.”

“Maybe on our way back this afternoon,” Dai said as they all passed the shelter.

“Okay, then. See you later.”

Gabby didn’t exhale until they were well past the checkpoint. “Whew,” she said, “that was easy, but my heart was pounding so hard I thought they might hear it!”

“Mine too,” Liza agreed. “I feel like a man in this getup, but I was worried anyway.”

“Gabby did a good job of turning you into a German soldier,” Dalton teased as he put his arm around her shoulder.

“I don’t see anyone nearby,” Gabby said, “but we should probably play it safe and assume that we’re being watched.”

“You’re right, Gabby. I was so relieved at getting through the first checkpoint that I lost my head for a moment.”

****

That evening, they ate dinner by a small stream sheltered by some bushes. They were exhausted, and their feet ached from walking all day, but they were relieved and felt they could let their guard down a little when darkness closed in.

After they cleaned up after dinner, Liza and Dalton got comfortable on a blanket. They had another one gathered at their feet, but for the moment they were comfortable without one over them.

Gabby and Dai pulled out the map he had brought, and they studied it by the light of a candle.

“Where are we going, Dai?”

“If I were going alone, I would cut across country, but with the four of us together, I think we should stick to the roads.” He put his finger on the map. “We’re going right here.”

She leaned forward and squinted. “It’s right on the coast.”

“Yes, it’s a little place called Katwijk aan Zee. I guess that means Katwijk on the sea.”

“Why’d you choose that place?”

“Well, it’s isolated, and the water’s deep enough for a sub to come in to within a kilometer of the shore.”

Gabby traced a logical route with her finger. “We’ll have to stay on the road all the way.”

“Right, and when General Rahn figures out that we’re not in the area around Amsterdam, he’ll have all the roads watched—probably already has.”

The two talked about possible alternate routes for a time, but they concluded the most direct route was probably as good as any. Dai folded the map and put it in his pocket. They leaned back on their hands and looked up at the clear sky. She pointed out some of the constellations that she recognized, and they watched as a small cloud slowly passed overhead.

“Are you cold?” he asked.

“No, I’m fine.”

For a time the two were quiet, and then the ghostly sound of an owl cut through the silence. Gabby shivered and said, “I don’t understand how we’re going to find that submarine. And you never did tell me how you managed to arrange for a submarine to pick us up, of all things!”

“I don’t think you’ve ever understood how important your uncle is. There isn’t a country in Europe that wouldn’t like to get him working for their cause in the war. Some very high people in the British navy were more than willing to divert a submarine to pick us up.”

“That’s incredible,” she said. “I never dreamed England would put such an effort into getting him out of the Netherlands.”

“Anyway, the plan is to meet the submarine a kilometer straight off shore from the lighthouse at Katwijk. I’ve made contact with a fisherman who’ll take us out to the rendezvous area, and then the sub is supposed to pick us up at midnight on September second.”

“Can you send them a radio message if we’re not there right on time?”

“It would be better if we didn’t. The Germans could pick it up, but we may have to if we get delayed any.”

Dai moved closer to her. He reached over and picked up her hand, and then to her surprise he kissed it.

“How sweet,” she whispered. She leaned over and kissed his cheek. “When this is over, I want you to court me.”

“Court you?”

“Yes, you know, send me flowers and candy, and I want you to write me a love poem.”

He laughed softly and put his arm around her. “I’ll buy a guitar and learn to play it. Then I can sing you love songs.”

The two sat there beneath the gypsy moon, as they now referred to a full moon, holding each other, not certain of what the day would bring, but knowing that they were together, and that was enough for the time being.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

On the Road

Dalton Burke woke up with a stiff back. He shifted himself slightly, trying to keep from awakening Liza, who lay beside him. Accustomed to comfortable beds, Dalton had not easily found a comfortable position the night before, and it had taken some time to drop off into a fitful sleep.

The gentle warbling of a bird came floating through the air, and Dalton decided it was a mourning dove. He had always liked doves, and he had missed them when he lived in the big city of Berlin. In Holland, he had made a practice of tossing grain to the flock that gathered every morning in their garden. He always loved to awaken to their soft chirping voices.

Opening his eyes slowly, Dalton saw that the pale light of the morning sun was filtering through the branches. He watched the tiny particles of dust as they danced in the beams and, as always, wondered at the miracle of God, who he was sure knew the exact location of each tiny mote. He was a deeply religious man—not one who showed his religion a great deal outwardly, but one who loved God and saw Him in the far-flung cosmos stretched out on the evening sky and in the tiniest world of atomic particles, swirling about in a mysterious divine dance.

Liza stirred beside him, and he lay still, hoping she would go back to sleep, but she put out her arm and laid it across his chest.

“You didn’t sleep well, did you, dear?” she asked.

“Oh, it wasn’t too bad. I had a good dream.”

Liza moved closer to him. “What was it?”

“I dreamed about the time we went to Switzerland and rented that little chalet. Do you remember?”

“Yes, that was one of our best vacations. I wish we could go back and do that again, but I don’t suppose we can.”

“Why not? When the war is over, we’ll do it. Maybe we can get the same chalet.” He rolled over to face her and touched her face gently. “You’re still the same sweetheart I loved back in those days.”

They lay quietly holding each other, listening to the birds and the light wind stirring the branches.

The two dozed off for a few minutes, and then Dalton heard Gabby and Dai talking quietly as they scurried around. Dalton checked to see if Liza’s eyes were open. “I’ve thought about those two a lot—Gabby and Dai, I mean. I remember what you said about them falling in love, and I think you’re right.”

Liza smiled in the growing light of the morning sun. “It would be a wonderful thing for Gabby. She was born to be a wife and a mother.”

Dalton lay quietly savoring the moment. He did not like adventures, and the thought of the danger that lay before them was heavy on his mind. “I’ve made such a mess of things,” he told his wife. “I wish I could do it over again. I’ve ruined our lives.”

“You’ve done no such thing. We’re going to get out of this, and you’re going to do great things for England. You’re going to help win the war.”

“I wish I could think that.”

“ ‘The steps of a good man are ordered by the Lord,’ ” she quoted, “ ‘and He delighteth in his way. Though he fall, he shall not be utterly cast down: for the Lord upholdeth him with His hand.’ ”

“That’s a wonderful passage, but sometimes people make such a mess out of their lives that I wonder if even God can straighten it up.”

“In Proverbs twenty-four it says, ‘For a just man falleth seven times, and riseth up again.’ We’ve got to believe God that we’re going to get out of this, and that Dai and Gabby will find a wonderful life together.”

“You’re a comfort to me, Liza. Indeed you are.”

They were interrupted by Gabby’s gentle wake-up call. “Time to get up. Breakfast is almost ready.”

Liza and Dalton had slept with their clothes on. Now they pulled on their boots and got up, moving rather stiffly.

“We’ve got dried beef and raisins and plenty of bread to fill you up,” Gabby said with a smile as they settled into a small circle on the ground. The breakfast cheered them all up, and they enjoyed the warm sun and good company.

“We’ve got to get moving,” Dai said when they had finished. “I think walking will help us all get the stiffness out of our bones.”

“Yes,” Liza agreed. “It’ll be good for us.”

“All right. If we run into any Germans, remember to let me do all the talking,” Dai instructed. “I think my German accent is almost as good as Dalton’s, and they probably haven’t figured out yet that I’m helping him escape.”

They all nodded their agreement.

“And, women, try as best as you can to keep your distance from any guards. You look like men from a distance, but up close you still look pretty feminine.” He grinned at Gabby and squeezed her hand briefly.

Both Gabby and Dai hoisted a knapsack onto their backs, and they headed south.

****

“This road isn’t used much,” Gabby said to Dai as they walked along the rutted road. He was holding her hand, but she noticed that his eyes moved constantly, never ceasing, and was glad for his constant vigilance.

He lifted her hand and kissed it, which pleased Gabby.
“You’re a demonstrative man. I’m glad of that. Some women have men who never show their love or speak of it.”

“Oh, we Welsh are very romantic fellows,” he said as he swung her hand high. “I’m working on that poem you said I was going to have to write for you.”

“I look forward to hearing it. Meanwhile, say something nice. Pay me a compliment.”

“All right,” he said with a mischievous grin. “I’m glad you’re not perfect.”

“You call that a compliment?”

“Yes, I do. You’re the earthy type. Just what I need. As a matter of fact, you remind me of a poem a fellow wrote a long time ago to his sweetheart. A fellow called Robert Herrick, who lived way back in the sixteenth century. It goes like this:

“So you like me because I’m a mess,” Gabby said as she laughed.

“More or less. I think that the poem is true. I don’t want a woman who’s all perfectly dressed and afraid to muss her hair.”

Gabby patted her hat, which was pulled down over her wig.

“No, I would say you’re just about rough enough for me. You do have a wild civility.”

“I’m not sure that’s a compliment.”

“Of course it is. You’ve just got to learn to appreciate it.” He stroked her hand. “I’m sure you’ve heard of the American poet named Walt Whitman?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Your hand reminds me of what he said about hands. ‘The narrowest hinge in my hand puts to scorn all machinery.’ This joint right here”—he wiggled her thumb—“is a miracle to me.”

“What else did Whitman say?”

“He said, ‘A mouse is miracle enough to stagger sextillions of infidels.’ ”

“That’s true, isn’t it? All the scientists and all the laboratories that ever were couldn’t begin to duplicate the amazing things God has created.”

He pulled her hand up so he could examine it. “I love your hands, Gabby,” he said, and then he put his arm around her. “They do good things, like healing and working hard to bless others. And they’ll be good for loving a husband too.”

Gabby felt content. She knew that her experience with men had not been good, but she believed, as they walked along the rutted road headed for danger, that she had found the man God had made for her.