Simple Faith (11 page)

Lisbeth burst out laughing. “You two make quite a pair,” she said, shaking her head as she began clearing the dishes.

Anja could not help but notice that, judging by the expression on his face, Peter was horrified by the very idea that she expected to take charge and expected him to follow her instructions. She was used to men thinking of her as a girl rather than a woman, and even if they did get used to the idea that she was well into her twenties and a mother, they rarely gave her credit for having a brain. She was determined to stand her ground.

Crossing her arms and drawing herself to her full height, she focused on Peter. “Do you not understand the question?”

“I got it,” he grumbled as he pushed himself away from the table and stood so that now he was the one looking down at her. “Josef said something about you taking me for a walk?”

“Yes, once you are—”

“I’m ready now.”

Anja saw Lisbeth glance at her husband, who shrugged. “A short one perhaps,” Josef said.

“I’ll get my coat,” Peter said, but then he looked up toward the storeroom as if trying to figure out exactly how much strength he would have once he crawled through the maze, climbed the stairs, and then made the return trip.

“Wear mine,” Josef offered, pointing to a wool coat hanging by the stairs that led down to the café and the street.

Anja waited for him to put on the coat and the slouch-brimmed hat that Josef was fond of before heading downstairs. She opened the door to the alley and watched as Peter limped out into the night. “Take my arm,” she said.

“I’m fine. I can do this.”

Anja rolled her eyes, glad that he could not see her annoyance. He was in many ways her patient, and she had certainly dealt with difficult patients before. “I am not questioning your strength so much as if we happen to pass someone on the street, it will look more as if we are a couple out for a Christmas night stroll.”

“Then you should take my arm,” he said and offered it.

She placed her hand near the crook of his elbow, and when he tottered slightly, she tightened her grip. “Steady there.”

“Just need to get my balance.”

But she noticed that he did nothing to lighten her grip on him and that his steps were hesitant as he made his way out to the main street where she saw Mikel standing on a corner a block away. He would watch out for soldiers on patrol or, worse, Gestapo agents prowling around, hoping to catch someone off guard. She decided to put Peter to a little test and turned to walk toward Mikel. She was fairly certain that Peter had not yet recognized the man, and she wanted to see what would happen.

Peter seemed to be concentrating on each step, and she was aware that he was already tiring. “Just to the corner and back,” she said.

Peter grunted and jerked his head up to see his destination then returned to focusing on putting one foot in front of the other. “There’s a man standing there,” he muttered.

“I know. Just keep walking.”

“But—”

“No questions, remember?”

He grunted again and walked doggedly on. When they were within a few feet of Mikel, Peter glanced up, looked directly at him, and released a breath of relief. “Oh, it’s Mikel. Merry Christmas to you.” He stuck out his hand for the other man to shake.

Mikel looked at Anja, shook his head as if Peter were a hopeless case, and walked quickly away.

“Well, and a Happy New Year to you as well,” Peter called after him. “What’s eating him?”

“Do you not understand what you just did?” she asked, biting off each word in an attempt to contain her fury. Not that she had expected anything different, but she had hoped Peter might surprise her.

“Yeah. I wished the man greetings of the season. It’s Christmas Day.”

“You called him by name, identifying him to anyone who might be nearby. Look around you. There are dozens of places someone might have been standing and watching and listening. You spoke to him in your native language—”

“It’s the only language I know,” Peter protested.

“Please keep your voice down,” she ordered as she quickened the pace, praying they might get back to the café without incident. “You spoke in English and clearly expected that he would understand, further compromising his safety. If this had been any other night—a normal evening with people around, not to mention soldiers and members of the secret police—the three of us would probably have been arrested on the spot. Worse, they might have arrested Mikel as soon as he walked away and then waited to see where we would go next. If we returned to the café, we would have endangered Josef and Lisbeth as well.”

He was silent for the last half block until they reached the café. As she reached for the doorknob, he placed his hand over hers. “All right. I understand. Tell me what I must—and must not—do.”

The American was an arrogant fool, Mikel thought as he lit the stub of a cigarette still good for a couple of drags. The stunt the man had just pulled—calling him by name and speaking in English—could have gotten them all arrested or worse. By his stupidity, the man had placed Anja in grave danger, and for Mikel that was reason enough to despise Peter Trent.

When it came to evaders, Mikel preferred the Brits. Americans and even Canadians were far too sure of themselves, far too outgoing. At least the British had an ingrained reserve that made them naturally more cautious. Mikel would be willing to bet that Peter Trent thought he knew best and was only tolerating Josef’s efforts to treat his leg and help him regain his strength because he knew he had no choice. But Mikel had seen the way Trent looked at Josef and knew the evader could not get past the knowledge that Josef was German. It was also evident that while grateful for everything Anja and Lisbeth were doing to help him, he saw them as women cast into the role of nurse and caregiver for him.

If he only knew …

Mikel took a final drag on the cigarette and then dropped it into the street, crushing out the last embers with the sole of his heavy hiking boots. They would have to get boots like his for Peter. The American had big feet, and Mikel took offense at that as well. He knew he was being irrational when it came to this particular evader, but he had seen something in the way Anja looked at the man, the way he had seen her watch him, her eyes full of curiosity and fascination that made Mikel’s blood run hot with jealousy.

As far as Mikel was concerned, the sooner they moved Peter Trent to Paris, the better.

   CHAPTER 6   

W
hen they returned to the café, at least a dozen people had gathered there. They sat in the small iron chairs that had been pulled away from the tables and placed in a circle. More people were coming in from the street and taking a chair in silence. Anja could see that Peter was obviously confused and looking to her for answers.

“Oh, I nearly forgot,” Anja whispered. “This is a special meeting for worship. Will you stay?” She expected Peter to claim weariness from the exertion of the walk. Instead, he sat in an empty chair and glanced at her. He nodded toward another chair next to him, and she sat there. Aware that he was watching to see what came next, she settled herself, closing her eyes and resting her upturned open hands on her lap as she began to empty her mind of all the stresses of the day and turn her thoughts inward toward the Light.

Of course she could not explain this to him, but she peeked and saw that his hands were resting on his knees, his eyes were closed, and his breathing was amazingly calm and even. Josef and Lisbeth were the last to join the circle, and as soon as they were settled, the room went absolutely still. It was quieter than usual because there was no noise from traffic or people passing by outside.

Be still and know that I am God
.

Anja thought about the task before them—getting Peter strong enough for the journey, convincing him to let go and trust those along the line to—

Be still…
.

She thought about the risks they were all taking—risks that she had convinced herself were right. Risks that in the end could bring pain and sorrow for Daniel. And what of Lisbeth and Josef’s unborn child, and what about—

Be still…
.

She drew in a breath and slowly let it out, and she felt the calm of others surround her and the stillness of this holy night, and without a doubt she knew that she was doing God’s work in helping to save men like Peter.
For even as you do this for one of the least of these …

The Quaker service—they called it a meeting for worship—was not even close to anything Peter had experienced before. Back home he had attended various churches with his friends, including some pretty high-octane revival meetings where people cried out and threw up their hands and spoke in strange languages. But this was something totally new.

The most obvious difference, of course, was the silence. Those attending entered the café in silence. They might nod or smile at another person, but no words were so much as whispered. Each person took a seat and appeared to settle in, eyes closed, hands resting on knees, palms open as if waiting for some surprise gift. The second thing he noticed was the lack of anyone who appeared to be in charge. There was no preacher or priest in evidence—not even a lay minister. Apparently the deal was that everyone did his or her own thing. So did that mean there were no rules or rituals?

There certainly was no music—no swell of the pipe organ, no piano, no choir. And because this was Christmas night and all the shops were closed and people were at home with their families, no sounds came from the street. Just stillness and silence … and a hint of peace such as Peter had not felt in a very long time.

Following the example of Anja and the others, he closed his eyes and placed his hands on his knees. After a few minutes, he lost all awareness of the others around him. He focused on his breathing, which seemed to him to be far too loud. Drawing in a breath, he held it for a second and then slowly let it out. As he did so, he realized that his thoughts—always chaotic with everything he had to consider since the plane crash—began to settle into a kind of order. For the first time since he’d landed in that field, he thought about how lucky he had been—Anja would say
blessed
.