The Hesitant Hero (18 page)

“Where’d you get those chickens, Antoine?” Rochelle asked.

“From a farm.”

“Did you buy them?” she asked.

“Buy ’em? No. I just took ’em.”

“Why, that’s stealing!” Rochelle exclaimed.

“If they don’t keep their chickens locked up better, they don’t deserve to keep ’em.”

“Next time, Antoine,” Jolie said quickly, “we’ll buy the chickens, as well as any other supplies.”

“But that would be silly. They were right there and nobody was looking.”

“I don’t think now’s the time to discuss ethics with Antoine,” Tyler said. “Let’s get these chickens dressed. We got anything to fry them in?”

“Fry chickens? We don’t fry chickens,” Jolie said.

“We do in America. If we have some grease, I’ll show you what good fried chicken tastes like.”

****

The fried-chicken cook leaned back, nibbling on one of the drumsticks. “Not as good as Aunt Maude used to make, but not bad, considering what we had to work with. Wish I could have made some biscuits to go with the chicken.”

“It was good,” Jolie agreed. “Where’d you learn to cook?”

“Oh, I don’t know. I’m not really a cook,” Tyler said. “I think I just watched my mom cook and some of my aunts. Men don’t cook much in America.”

“They do in France. Some of the best cooks are men,” Jolie said, then gave him a sharp look. “You’re not one of those men who are afraid to do women’s work, are you?”

“Why, you just saw me cook, didn’t you? Of course I’m not afraid of women’s work.”

Rochelle had been sitting beside Antoine during the meal, and they had been sharing a quiet conversation.

“Tell me what it’s like to be a Jew, Rochelle,” Antoine asked as he licked his fingers, one after the other.

She laughed aloud. “That’s a hard question to answer. What’s it like to be a gypsy?”

“It’s pretty bad sometimes.”

“Why is it bad?”

“Well, people think we’re thieves.”

Rochelle giggled. “Aren’t you?”

Antoine looked at her with disgust. “Stealing two little chickens does not make me a thief. People think we steal horses or anything that’s not tied down. That’s not so. Like I told you before, my pa’s a blacksmith. He works for a living. He wants me to be one too, but I’m not gonna be a blacksmith when I grow up.”

“What are you going to be?”

“I’ve got something on my mind, but I’m not telling anybody about it.”

“I do too,” Rochelle said, “but I won’t tell you what it is if you won’t tell me.”

Antoine grinned. “I’ll bet I find out what you’re going to be before you find out what I’m going to be.”

“I’m gonna be a race car driver,” Damien said as he joined the conversation. “It’s not a secret either. I don’t care who knows it.”

Jolie was enjoying watching the young people talk, and finally she said, “What’ll we have tonight, a song or a story?”

“Let’s have a story,” Damien said.

“No, I want a song,” Yolande said. She loved music and could never get enough of the songs that Jolie sang for them.

“How about if we have both,” Jolie suggested. Without waiting for an answer, she starting singing an old French folk song, and when she was done she said, “All right, it’s your turn to tell a story, Tyler.”

“All right. I’ll tell you about the time I had a run-in with a lion in Colorado.”

“There aren’t any lions in America. They’re all in Africa.”

“That’s not exactly right, Jolie. There are mountain lions out west in America. They’re not as big as the kind in Africa, but they could make a good meal of you, I suppose.” He plunged into the tale of how he had gone hiking with a friend in Colorado during a school vacation and ended up killing a mountain lion when it had cornered his friend.

The children listened in amazement as he built up the suspense in his story.

When he was through, Jolie said, “That was quite a story. Now let’s read an incredible story from the Bible.” She pulled her Bible out and read the story from the Old Testament of the three young Hebrew men who chose to be thrown into the fiery furnace rather than obey Nebuchadnezzar.

After she finished the story, Antoine asked, “Is that true or just made up?”

“Why, it’s in the Bible,” Damien said. “Of course it’s true. You ought to know that.”

“You mean they got thrown into a furnace and they didn’t burn up?” Antoine was incredulous. “Why not?”

“Because God kept them from burning up,” Jolie said.

Antoine fell silent as he considered this. “I don’t know why the Germans want to kill all the gypsies and all the Jews. What’s the matter with those Germans?”

“It’s not all of them,” Jolie said quietly. “There are many good Christian Germans, but they got the wrong man in as leader. And the Germans have a bad habit of listening to strong men no matter who they are.”

“Do the Germans kill Jews and gypsies in America, Monsieur Winslow?” Rochelle asked.

“No, they don’t, and they know better than to try it. Why, we wouldn’t put up with it for a minute!”

“Why don’t you stop ’em from doing it in France?” Antoine demanded.

“I think it’s going to come to that, Antoine. Americans are a bit slow to get started, but we’ll be in this war before long, and I think that’ll be what puts an end to Hitler’s madness.”

Yolande said, “I want another song.”

“You always want another song,” Jolie said. “Come along. Get in your blanket, and then I’ll sing you a song.”

“Bedtime for everybody,” Tyler said. “We’ve got to get an early start in the morning.”

“I want to go with you,” Antoine said suddenly. “I can get food for us and keep a look out for the Nazis.”

“We settled that earlier, Antoine,” Tyler said gently. “We just can’t take you.”

Antoine glared at him, then turned away and stood stiffly staring into the darkness. Rochelle went to him and said something, but he didn’t answer.

“Everyone get to bed,” Tyler said. He wished the boy had kept going when he had left earlier that day, and he could see trouble ahead. Tyler ignored the protests of the youngsters, and soon they were all in their usual sleeping places.

After Jolie had given Marie a bottle and rocked her to sleep, she came to sit beside him. “Are we going to make it, Tyler?”

“Why, of course we are!” Tyler looked at her, noting the fatigue in her features. He was a little shocked, for it was the first sign of weakness he’d seen in her. “You’re just tired, but you’ll feel better tomorrow.”

“I hope so. But it all seems so impossible.”

“Nothing’s impossible with God.” He smiled. “That was what my folks said over and over. I guess it didn’t mean much to me then, but it does now.” He ran his hand through his hair, then added, “Funny how things like that stick with you. I find myself wishing I’d been a better son—like my brother.”

“It’s never too late to start. Maybe the purpose of this whole ordeal is to give you a new start.”

“I suppose that’s possible. But what a way to get a new start!”

Jolie picked a leaf off the ground and slowly began tearing
it apart. “I . . . I’m glad you’re here, Tyler. It would be hard to be alone.”

“Two are better than one. The Bible says that, I think.” She didn’t answer and he asked, “Are you sleepy?”

“No, not a bit.”

“Come on. I’ll make some coffee and tell you the story of my life.”

Jolie smiled at him and took a deep breath. “All right, then if we’re not sleepy yet I’ll tell you all my adventures too.”

Long after the children were asleep, they sat beside the fire talking in hushed voices. Jolie had been worried, but Tyler had a way of telling stories that was amusing, and she started feeling better.

“Thanks for the stories, Tyler. For some reason I’m a little more hopeful about the outcome of this whole affair now.” She stood up. “Good night. Next time I’ll cheer you up.”

Tyler watched as she went to her blanket and rolled up in it. He looked into the fire for a long time before finally lying down, but he still couldn’t sleep.

What in the world brought me to this place,
he wondered.
I came to France to study art, not to get into a dangerous cross-country trek with a beautiful woman and several orphans.

He tried to will himself to sleep but finally gave up. He opened his eyes and stared up at the stars. They spread across the sky like diamonds, and he thought of how much his father loved the stars. He had even made a primitive telescope, and Tyler remembered how the two of them had stayed up late many nights, looking at the sky. He could almost hear the sound of his father’s voice naming off the stars.

Well, Dad, I wish we could do it again!
The thought stayed with him, and he lay there naming the stars until he fell asleep.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

“Get Off the Road!”

The tension in the group was even more pronounced the next morning as they all sat near the fire eating breakfast. Antoine did not speak a word but sullenly sat off to one side. When Rochelle said, “Come on, Antoine, and eat breakfast,” he just glared at her.

“Don’t be angry, Antoine,” Jolie said. “It’s just that—”

“Who needs you? I can get to England by myself.” Before anyone could speak he stood up and ran away.

Rochelle called after him, “Come back, Antoine!”

He stopped and shouted back, “I hope the Nazis get you all!” before sprinting down the dirt road.

“I’m sorry he took it like that,” Tyler said.

“I feel sorry for him,” Yolande said.

“So do I, but we can’t take everybody.”

“He’s not everybody,” she said. “He’s just one little boy.”

Rochelle was looking at Jolie with a hardness in her face that Jolie had not seen. Rochelle burst out, “Would Jesus have done a thing like that?”

Jolie was completely silenced by the question. She looked helplessly at Rochelle, who got up and walked away, her back stiff.

“Let’s get everything packed up and get going,” Tyler said hurriedly. It was a bad situation and he hated it. As he went to hitch up Crazy, Jolie approached him.

“I think we should have taken him, Tyler.”

“I’m starting to feel the same way. Maybe we’ll catch up
with him on the road or maybe I should run ahead and catch him.”

“No, don’t do that. I don’t want to be left alone with the children.”

“I made a big mess out of the whole situation, Jolie. I’m an expert at doing things like that.”

She gave him a sad smile and left him to hook up the wagon. When everybody was ready, he said, “Rochelle, why don’t you drive for a while. I feel like walking.”

Rochelle did not answer, but she got up on the seat and took the reins when he handed them to her. “Yolande, you get in with her,” Jolie said. She lifted the girl up and then took the baby from Damien.

Rochelle had become a good driver, and she slapped the lines on Crazy’s back. She sat stone-faced with her back straight as the horse stepped out.

“Are you mad at me, Rochelle?” Yolande asked.

“Why, of course I’m not mad at you. Why would you think that?”

“You look mad.”

“That’s because I think we should have taken Antoine with us to England.”

“I think so too.”

Usually as they walked along or rode in the wagon, there was a great deal of joking and laughing and talking. But it was very quiet this morning. The sun rose and began to heat the earth, and Jolie walked on the opposite side of the wagon from Tyler. She was occupied with the scene that had taken place during breakfast and had seldom felt as unhappy with her choice as she felt this day. She went over and over it again and found no consolation in the way that it had turned out. More than once she looked ahead hopefully, willing Antoine to come back, but there was no sign of him.

In the middle of the morning the silence was suddenly broken by Damien, who shouted, “Look, there comes Antoine!”

“It is,” Tyler said, “and he’s running like the devil’s after
him.” He ran ahead to meet the boy. Antoine’s elbows were flailing, and he was gasping for breath. “What is it, son? What’s wrong?”

“It’s the Germans. They’re coming. Get off the road!”

Tyler ran quickly back, grabbing Crazy’s bridle and leading the startled horse off the road, urging him on. “Come on, Jolie,” he shouted, “we’ve got to get out of sight.”

Fortunately there was a copse of trees with thick underbrush nearby. They had barely managed to get everyone hidden before they heard the sound of the trucks coming. Tyler had a tight hold on the harness, but Jolie moved to the edge of the trees. “I can see them,” she whispered. Yolande held on to Rochelle, who put her arms around her, and they all froze as they waited. The trucks roared by one after another, at least twenty of them.

They all remained where they were until the sound faded away. Tyler drew a deep breath. “Well, that was a close one.” He turned to Antoine and saw that the boy looked terrified. “Thank you, Antoine. You saved our necks.”

Jolie joined the two and put her arms around Antoine, hugging him hard. “I’m so proud of you, Antoine. That was a brave thing you did.”

Damien was jumping up and down and pulling at Antoine. “You came back! I knew you would, and you kept those old Germans from getting us.”

Rochelle crowded in close too and put her hand on Antoine’s shoulder. “Thank you for coming back and saving us, Antoine.”

The boy was startled. He had regained his breath, but as they all continued to tell him how grateful they were, he didn’t know what to think.

“We were all sorry you left feeling upset as you were,” Jolie said, “and it was my fault. The children were right, and Monsieur Winslow and I were both wrong. We’d like very much if you’d go to England with us.”

Antoine could not speak for a moment. He swallowed hard and muttered, “I guess it’d be all right.”

“Good,” Tyler said, coming over and slapping Antoine on the back. “You know, I think sometimes God works things out even when we make a mess of them. He makes things happen the way He wants them to happen even when we get in His way.”

Antoine was looking at him with his head cocked to the side.

“I’m mighty glad you came back to pull us out of the fire.”

“Come on, Antoine, you can drive Crazy,” Rochelle said.