The Watcher (24 page)

“The fishing boat is concealed down the footpath in a cove.” Otto pointed to a dark path almost hidden from sight. “Get your things, and I'll take you to the boat.”

We walked for a mile or so through the overgrown trail. Otto led the way, and I followed him. Barret held on to my backpack, and Watcher raced back and forth around us.

“The cove is just ahead,” Otto finally said. “There!”

We turned into the cove, where an old fishing boat was tied to a rickety dock. I stopped and asked, “Is this the boat? It is old! Is it safe?” I could not hide the dismay in my voice.

“It's old but serviceable with a fairly new diesel engine,” Otto replied. “It's registered as German, so there should be no problem in Denmark.”

I must have looked worried, because Otto went on to assure me. “Karin, it's a seaworthy ship. I have known Captain Lichtenberg for years. He'll take good care of you.”

Otto helped Barret climb on board, and Watcher leaped in after him. I tossed my knapsack onto the deck and then I hopped on too.

“Josef?” Otto yelled. “Are you here, Josef?”

“I'm here!” a hearty voice called out, and a tall, rugged man appeared from the cabin. A younger man came up behind him.

Otto introduced us to Captain Lichtenberg, who shook hands with us—including Watcher, who held out his paw.

Peder Fischer, the captain's first mate, introduced himself and laughed. “Peder Fischer—a perfect name for a fisherman.”

The captain put his arm around Otto's shoulders. “We don't say
‘Sieg Heil'
around here anymore. We say, ‘Survive, my friend.' He gestured to the black clouds of smoke over Hamburg. “This attack looks bad.”

“
Ja
—so get these young people safely to Copenhagen soon.”

“I will,” Captain Lichtenberg promised, and then turned to us. “Welcome aboard.”

“Is it safe for us to leave now, with bombers coming?” I asked nervously.

“I don't think they'll target us—we're small and insignificant,” Captain Lichtenberg answered. “The reason for the fires is to light up Hamburg for the next group of bombers—American planes. Hopefully, they won't pay attention to one little boat on the sea.”

“Before we leave, I have something for you, Otto.” Reaching into my deep pocket, I pulled out the sapphire I had hidden, and dropped it into his hand. “Thank you for all you've done for us. And thank Ulla, too. I pray she is safe.”

“I must get back right away.” Before leaving, Otto gave us a mock salute as he climbed onto the wharf. “Safe journey, children! I'll let Opa know your progress.”

Peder was now unhitching the ropes that tied the boat
to the dock as Captain Lichtenberg started up the engine.

“How long will it take to get to Copenhagen?” Barret asked over the sound.

“It all depends on how far off course I must go to keep away from German patrol boats. I know their schedules pretty well, but one never knows, especially now, with this bombing on Hamburg. We have nothing to hide, but it would be better not to be questioned.”

“If a naval ship should stop us, you have the proper papers,” Peder said. “But you, Karin, don't talk too much. You have an American accent they might catch.”

As we moved slowly out of the cove and headed to sea, I watched the distant fires and the pillars of smoke that reached into the sky. I could see the black columns twist into tornadoes that carried embers and scattered sparks, igniting even more fires.

The planes were gone. “The next group will be coming soon to bomb,” the captain predicted. “If there's anything left to bomb, that is.”

Before long, the city of Hamburg was only a glow against the skyline. The salty sea, the waves, and the bitter smell of diesel fumes finally overpowered the blowing smoke of the inferno.

F
ar out on the ocean the wind was strong and the waves sprayed mist over the bow. It was restful to be away from the war and bombs, although I knew ships and submarines of many nations prowled these waters.

“I hope you don't get seasick, Karin,” Peder said in a teasing tone.

“After being torpedoed in a U-boat under the sea—this is nothing,” I bragged. “Have you ever been torpedoed—or under the sea in a submarine?”

“
Nein
—you are a true heroine, Karin. You deserve the Iron Cross.” He winked at the captain, who laughed, and I felt a flash of annoyance.

Barret and Watcher were huddled together on the floor underneath an old canvas tarp. I pushed myself in with them and realized they were both asleep, although Watcher woke up and moved over for me. The canvas smelled of oil
and fish, but it kept out the wind, and after I settled next to Barret, I was soon asleep too.

The drone of the engine that lulled me to sleep stopped, and I awoke. As I peeked out from under the tarp, I saw a patrol boat had pulled up and two naval officers were climbing aboard.

What if they suspect we are runaways escaping Germany? What if Adrie sent them after me? I ducked back under the tarp, hoping I hadn't been seen.

One of the naval officers came over and yanked the canvas from the three of us. For a moment he stood there—tall, cold, and solemn.

“Get up!” he ordered. “Give me your papers.”

When Barret and I stood up, Watcher did also. I heard a low growl coming from his throat, and the fur on his back stood up. Seldom did Watcher growl at anyone. The officer frowned at my dog, and I could see him fingering the revolver on his belt.

“Hush, Watcher,” I whispered.

Watcher looked up at me and then sat next to my feet.

I dug into my backpack and handed the officer the German birth certificate and ID that Opa had made for me.

“Karin Nelson?”

“Ja.”

“Why are you going to Copenhagen?”

“I am going to Copenhagen to study . . . Norse history.”

“And you couldn't do that in Berlin?”

“Not as well as in Denmark.”

“You have a strange accent. You are German?”

“Ja.”
I had to think quickly. “I had a difficult throat surgery this past spring, and . . . er . . . my voice and diction were affected. Here, I have documentation if you want to see it.”

He did not answer; instead he rudely shoved his hand out to me.

I showed him the health certificate Opa suggested I should bring. It recorded my quinsy throat surgery. Fortunately, the health certificate did not use my name, but only the term
This Patient.

Apparently, it satisfied the officer's needs because he shoved the papers back at me and then turned to Barret. “You have papers? You are blind, are you? Can you find them for me?”

“I'll get them for you, Conrad,” I offered.

“
Nein!
I asked him,” the officer snapped.

“It's all right, Karin,” Barret said, a warning in his voice. He stooped down and reached for his rucksack, opened the front pocket, and pulled out the papers Opa had made. He was about to hand them to the officer when a series of large waves rocked the boat, and Barret lost his balance. As he fell, the papers scattered over the deck.

I reached to help him up, but the officer shoved me out of the way. “Let him get up himself. Who are you, his keeper?”

“I'm his sister,” I said angrily. “And you are not a gentleman!”

Instantly he slapped my face so hard, it knocked me
to the deck. “Do not talk back to a German officer.”

In a flash Watcher leaped at the man, his teeth bared.

“No, Watcher!” I yelled. “Come here!”

My dog stopped his attack and came quickly to my side. “Sit!” Watcher sat close to me, but his eyes were on the man who had slapped me. My face smarted, and my knees were bleeding from the contact with the rough deck.

Captain Lichtenberg put his hands up in a calming gesture, and whispered something to the other officer who was questioning him. Evidently, this officer was of a higher rank, and he shouted to the bully, “My, you are a brave one, aren't you, Lieutenant? Picking on a blind boy and a pretty young girl?” He pointed at us. “Help them up and apologize! These are German citizens, not criminals. And the girl is right—you are not a gentleman.”

The lieutenant's face reddened with anger. He grabbed my arm, but I pulled away and brushed my sleeve, as if it were polluted from his touch. When I stood up, we faced each other for a few moments, and I could see retaliation in his eyes. “I will be watching for you when you arrive in Copenhagen,” he whispered.

Barret was able to gather his papers, and he stood with them in his hand. The lieutenant grabbed them, looked them over, and then handed them back.

“Everything is in order,” the superior officer announced. “We won't detain you any longer.” He turned to me. “Please forgive my impulsive companion here. I will see he is reprimanded for his insolence.” The men climbed back aboard their ship. The engine started, and I could see
the lieutenant still glaring at me as they backed away.

“Will they be in Copenhagen?” I asked our captain. “That lieutenant threatened me.”

“It may be their home base. I hope not. He did not like you, Karin. Keep in mind that you must not speak back to any Nazi officers. They are arrogant and enjoy being cruel. You just have to let them have their imagined superiority—and then laugh at them when they're gone.”

“The other officer took my side,” I pointed out. “He was kind.”

“Ah, I think that captain was smitten by your beautiful face,” Peder teased.

I felt my cheeks burn, but it was nice to have a compliment for a change.

T
he next afternoon, when we pulled into a Copenhagen port authority, I was dismayed to see the same German patrol ship docked nearby.

“Let me have your papers,” Captain Lichtenberg whispered. “We'll get this over with quickly.”

We gathered our things and then followed the captain and Peder up the wharf to the customs and immigration office.

Captain Lichtenberg did not appear worried, and he spoke to the authorities, introduced us as his passengers, and showed his papers and ours. A woman at the desk looked everything over, and stamped some of the documents. Then she noticed Watcher.

“Is that a guide dog?” she asked in German. I noticed a wooden plaque on her desk with the name Inga Josephson.

Barret answered. “I am blind and this is my dog.”

“Just a moment, please.” She disappeared into another office and closed the door.

“What's happening?” I whispered to Captain Lichtenberg.

He shrugged.

When the door opened again, Inga Josephson came out—along with the lieutenant who had threatened me. “The officer here warned me about that dog,” she said. “He's been waiting around, knowing you'd be arriving soon. He says that animal must not be allowed into the country.”

“What do you mean? He warned you about our dog?” I felt anger mounting.

“He said the dog attacked him when he boarded your boat.”

“Not true!” Captain Lichtenberg bellowed. “This officer attacked the girl. The dog was protecting her.”

“Show us your wounds—the bite marks,” Peder demanded of the lieutenant. “Show us!”

“I will only show my bruises to my doctor and my lawyer!”

“He's lying,” I said. “He threatened me! He said he'd get even with me when we got to Copenhagen.”

Inga looked from the Lieutenant to the captain, back to me, then to Barret. “I'm sorry,” she said. “I don't know whom to believe. There is only one thing to do until I get a police officer or judge—or someone in authority here. We have a kennel to hold animals that enter the country under quarantine. Once they are pronounced healthy,
their owners can retrieve them. We'll simply put your dog there until we can establish if he is dangerous.” Once again she left us and went down a hallway to another office.

The lieutenant, who had been standing by, sneered at me. “I'll have that dog destroyed tomorrow. That will teach you never to ridicule or embarrass a German officer!”

The woman came back up the hall with a man in work clothes. “Give me the dog. I'll put him in the kennel,” he said in German.

My voice was rising. “No! This . . . person . . . says he will have him destroyed.”

“Nein,”
the worker said. “I will not let that happen.”

Barret reached out for me and pulled me close to him. “Let them have him,” he whispered. “We'll come back later. But take the collar off.”

I had forgotten about the collar. Watcher was more important to me than the jewels, but I knew we could not survive what might be ahead without them.

“I'll take his collar and his harness,” I said reluctantly. “We will be back, you can be sure of that.” I turned to the lieutenant. “And if you lay a hand on him . . .” I was shouting now. “If you lay a hand on him, I will have Adolf Hitler himself destroy you!”