All God's Children (41 page)

He had never loved her more than he did in that moment, for he saw in her eyes that she fully understood the ramifications of what had just happened. “We will go as far as we can, and if…”

He shushed her by placing his finger against her lips. “Rest now.” He retrieved the bottle of cider from the knapsack and gave it to her. “Drink.”

She took a long swallow, and her eyes widened in shock. “It’s fermented,” she managed to say as she choked down the liquid.

Josef grinned. “Good. It will help you sleep. Now close your eyes. We’ll move again as soon as it’s dark.”

The cider and perhaps the lost blood did their job, and when Beth awoke she felt more rested than she had in weeks. But her leg had stiffened up and now throbbed with pain. The idea of standing on it, much less walking for miles, was hard to imagine.

Anja and Josef were leaning against a tree. Josef was scraping a long branch with their knife—their only weapon.

“What’s that?” Beth croaked.

Immediately Anja scooted closer and handed Beth an apple— part of the food the farmer’s wife had given them. “We’re saving the potatoes,” she said. “Maybe once we reach the sea we can actually risk having a fire and bake them in the embers.”

“And this,” Josef said as he stood and presented her with the smooth branch, “is your crutch. Try it on for size,” he urged.

Anja and Josef helped Beth to her feet. The pain that shot up her leg the minute she put weight on it nearly made her cry out, but she bit her lip and anchored the crude crutch under her arm. It took only a few minutes for her to get the rhythm of using it in place of her injured leg. She made her way around a tree and grinned at them.

“Well, there’s no need to go showing off,” Anja teased as Beth increased her speed on a second circuit of the tree.

Josef was watching her closely, his handsome face furrowed into a frown.

“It’s good, and it’s almost dark, so let’s get going,” she said. Then she looked at him more closely. “What on earth are you wearing?”

He grinned sheepishly. “Anja made one of the blankets into a sort of poncho for me. Do you like it?”

“Very dashing,” Beth said, and she realized that in spite of her injury she was filled with hope. For the first time in days they were all warm, they had food, and they had the map and compass. For the first time since they’d left Sobibor, she truly believed that they might actually make it to freedom.

“Ready then?” Josef hooked an arm through the knapsack and handed Anja the compass.

“This way,” she said, and they moved away from the shadows of the forest and into the night that was blessed by cloud cover and the hint of rain.

Josef had estimated that, if the farmer’s wife was right, it would take them three nights of travel to reach the coast. Of course that did not allow for the fact that by the end of the second night Beth’s leg had become badly infected and she was running a high fever. The bandages were stiff with dried blood and pus, and they had no other clean rags they could use. He had to risk going into one of the villages for help.

The coat that Anja wore was a man’s coat, far too large for her small frame. She and Josef had exchanged outer garments after they’d discovered how the oversized coat restricted Anja’s movements that first night traveling. With the coat of a local and a cap he had found one night when scrounging for food behind a bakery in a town days earlier, Josef hoped that his appearance in the small village of Olsztyn would not draw attention. After all, as the war had raged on for year after year, people’s circumstances had worsened to the point where many people looked like vagrants these days.

“Try to keep her still,” he instructed Anja, handing her the remainder of the cider. “If anyone comes…”

“Go,” Anja ordered. “I know what to do.”

It was just after dawn when he entered the village. Few people were around at this hour, and he walked quickly toward what seemed to be the main part of town. He passed the butcher’s shop, the fish market—a sure sign that they were close to the sea—the chemist’s…

The chemist!

Josef didn’t need a doctor—he was a doctor. He needed the tools to make Beth better—medicine and bandages and disinfectant and…

Thou shalt not steal
.

But he had no money—nothing he could even barter for the goods he so desperately needed. This was his wife—the woman he hoped to spend the rest of his life with. If she died, what meaning was there for anything? For the escape? For everything they had been through?

He saw the shopkeeper unlock the door and go inside. The lights came on—necessary at this time of the morning and probably throughout the day given the overcast sky. He watched through the window as the man went about the business of preparing his store for the day—checking the cash register, opening the radiators to bring more heat, taking a broom from a corner.

Josef tried the door and as he stepped inside and shut the door, its bell jangling all the while; the chemist looked up.
“Sprechen Sie Deutsch?”
Josef asked politely as he approached the counter. The man was older than he’d appeared at first, his skin lined with the years, his hair thin and wispy. Josef knew that he could easily overpower the man and take what he needed before any alarm could be raised.

“Ja,” the chemist answered and continued speaking in German as he asked, “How may I help you?”

Josef recited the list of supplies he needed even as he studied the calendar posted on the wall behind the counter. They had been traveling for days—weeks—but he’d had no idea that it was already nearly the end of October. Still the chemist clearly took pains to cross off the days, and there it was before him—October the twenty-ninth. As Josef placed his order, the shopkeeper immediately began gathering them and setting them next to the brass-plated cash register. “Will that be all?”

“I cannot pay,” Josef blurted. “But I can work—I can sweep the shop for you and do anything you need for two hours.” By then he calculated the town would begin to come alive with shoppers and the usual business of any village on a weekday.

The man stared at him for a long moment. “You are Jewish?”

“No,” Josef protested, but immediately thought, what if he were? What did it matter whether he was Jewish or Danish or Polish or American? “Please…my wife…”

The man turned away and reached for something. Josef edged toward the door. But when the chemist faced him again, Josef saw that he was adding items to the order. “Is she very ill?”

“Ja. Fever, chills. I am a doctor, but without…”

“She has been wounded?”

Since Josef had specified bandages and disinfectant and a pair of long tweezers as part of the order, he could hardly deny the man’s guess.

“The bullet is lodged in her leg,” he admitted.

“Take these for now and try to get the fever down. Then bring her tonight to the rear entrance—after midnight—you’ll hear the clock tower chime the hour. You can operate here and remove the bullet.” He finished, tying the string that held the brown paper around the package of supplies. He handed it to Josef. “Tonight,” he said again and pointed to a rear doorway covered by a curtain. “Go.”

Throughout the day Anja and Josef took turns caring for Beth while the other one slept. It occurred to Josef that the chemist might easily have reported him, that local police or even German soldiers might even now be on their way to search the woods.

He was beyond caring.

What he knew was that Beth was better—the fever was down, and he had been able to dress the wound properly. The bullet was still lodged there, but tonight…

He felt someone shake him. “Josef? It’s time,” Anja whispered.

He sat up and heard the village clock striking the hour. He shook off sleep and crawled over to where Beth had been lying on a bed of pine needles all day. Her eyes were open.

“Josef?” She slurred the word and smiled up at him.

He glanced over his shoulder at Anja. “I gave her the rest of the cider. I guess that along with the medicine might have made her a little…”

There was no way she would be strong enough to walk even with the crutch, so Josef gathered her into his arms while Anja packed up everything and made certain they left no evidence of having been there.

“Ready?”

“Lead on,” Anja said as together they stepped out into the open and headed for the village.

But as they approached the chemist’s shop Josef immediately saw that something was wrong. In the first place the lights were all on. In the second place a car was parked in front. He motioned for Anja to head down a narrow lane that ran between the butcher’s and the fish market.

“Wait here,” he whispered as he set Beth down so that she was hidden by several wooden barrels behind the fish market.

Cautiously he edged his way back to the main street to a position where he could see into the shop without being seen. The chemist was there looking older and more frail than ever as two large men in uniform stood over him. Obviously one of the men was shouting at him.

Josef’s heart sank. They had to go, and the sooner the better. If only there were some way of transporting Beth other than carrying her. He searched the alley for ideas, and outside the back entrance to the chemist’s he saw a three-wheeled cart—the kind they had used at Sobibor to transport the luggage left by the prisoners at the side of the train.

When he got close enough to examine it, he saw that it had been outfitted with bedding and blankets, and he knew the chemist had prepared it for him to take Beth away once he’d removed the bullet. He considered what he could do to help the poor man who was even now being questioned inside but knew he would only make matters worse for him if he interfered.

He stood with his hands poised on the handles of the cart and closed his eyes. He prayed for the chemist and his family and promised God that one day he and Beth would return here and thank the man for his kindness—and his courage.

    CHAPTER 23