The Hesitant Hero (9 page)

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Authors: Gilbert Morris

BOOK: The Hesitant Hero
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As he went on to tell her about the formation of the geese against the mountain, she had a hard time concentrating on what he was saying. As good as he had been with the children, she couldn’t help but think he wasn’t the man for her.
He will fold when the pressure comes. I’m sure of it.

****

The time passed so quickly that when March came, bringing the first breath of spring, Tyler was taken off guard. He went outside early one Thursday morning. The air was fresh, the grass was turning bright green, and the mountain was clearly outlined against the blue sky. He stood there for a moment thinking how quickly the time had gone. He had returned to the orphanage several times, meeting many of the children, but spending extra time with the three Jewish children. The three were so fond of each other, and he had already grown attached to them.

He painted outside for much of that day, just moving inside when his hands got too cold, and that night he went to the Vernay house for dinner. It was a delicious meal, and there was a great deal of laughter around the table. Afterward they went into the parlor and tried to find some music on the
radio, but it was interrupted many times by news bulletins about the war.

After Marvel went to bed, Jolie and Tyler lingered in the parlor and she updated Tyler on the children’s activities at the orphanage. Jolie walked him to the door and he pulled her into an embrace. He lifted her chin and gave her a brief kiss. When he released her, she looked down.

“I’m sorry, Tyler,” she said. “I shouldn’t have let you do that. That was a mistake.”

“I don’t think so.”

Tyler had always been attracted to her, and the time they had spent together in France had only served to increase that attraction. “Why do you draw back, Jolie? You need people. Everybody does.”

“Yes,” she said quietly. “Every woman needs a man to make her complete—but it must be the right man.” She opened the door. “Good night, Tyler. We enjoyed your visit.”

“Good night.” Tyler left the house, but he was confused and argued with himself all the way home. “My work is going better than ever, but I’m still not happy.” It bothered him that he was committed to Caroline, who was waiting for him back in the States. In her eyes, they were engaged. He knew he shouldn’t have accepted her money to finance the trip abroad. He couldn’t dismiss his attraction to Jolie. “Why can’t I let this woman alone? I’m not the kind of man she wants.”

****

He slept poorly that night, and the next morning he got up and went to his favorite local café, where he had found good food at inexpensive prices. As soon as he walked in, the proprietor, a man named Poupon, said, “Have you heard the news, Monsieur Winslow?” The man clearly looked agitated.

“What news?”

“The Germans have attacked Denmark and Norway. They are overrunning them.” Monsieur Poupon gave him the few
details he knew, and then the two stood close to the radio, which was providing more information.

“Next will be Belgium, and then there’s nothing to stop them from coming into France,” Poupon said.

“I can’t believe they can take all of France!”

“Who’s to stop them?”

“The English have troops here.”

“Not enough!”

“But the French army . . .”

“They are running for their lives.”

Tyler sat down and ordered eggs and toast, but the same thought kept repeating in his mind.
The Germans are coming, and the gates are closing. I’ve got to get out of here!

CHAPTER SIX

Round Trip to Paris

The German attack on Norway on April 9, 1940, was completely successful. Tyler listened every day to the radio reports, hoping that somehow the tables would be turned and the Germans’ blitzkrieg would be denied.

Almost every day Tyler thought about leaving. He could think of very little worse than being trapped in France by the German army.

During this time he painted steadily, using his art as more of a hiding place than anything else. Despite this he was pleasantly surprised to see that he was improving steadily. Something about his environment in France had enabled him to put paint on canvas in a more meaningful way.

He saw Jolie and her mother several times during April, although as time went on, he knew he had to admit that Jolie’s feelings for him hadn’t changed. She had made no secret of the fact, from the very beginning of their relationship, that she had no romantic interest in him.

Each week he made it a point to go to the orphanage. He had become close to several of the children but was especially fond of Damien, Rochelle, and Yolande. Their joy in seeing him pleased him a great deal, and he found their company invigorating.

All of this changed with a series of events that began on May the tenth. The Germans invaded the Low Countries with all the force at their command. As soon as Tyler heard this, he knew he could delay no longer. He had listened to
enough talk about strategy and looked at enough maps to know that Hitler could have but one purpose for taking the Low Countries. He would use Belgium as a route to get to France.

On the same day that the Germans invaded the Low Countries, Chamberlain, the Great Appeaser, resigned and was replaced by Winston Churchill. Churchill had been an anti-Hitler statesman for years, while Chamberlain had done little but cave in before the führer. Churchill immediately began leading his country into mobilization for war, and even by listening to the radio and knowing as little as he did about the conditions in Europe, Tyler was certain that within a matter of days Hitler would send his troops into France. In fact, that’s exactly what happened within a couple of short days.

Tyler worried and wondered about what to do throughout much of the month, and as May drew to an end, he finally made his decision. “I’ve got to get out of here,” he muttered. “I can’t be trapped in the middle of a war that’s none of my business.”

That very day he went to the Vernays’ home and found Jolie and her mother listening to the radio. “We’ve been listening to the news broadcast,” Jolie told him as he took a seat in the living room. “Have you heard about the Netherlands and Belgium?”

“I know they’ve been under attack for the last couple weeks. Is there something new?”

“They both surrendered.”

“Belgium too?”

“Yes,” Jolie said, her lips tight. “They were just reporting it on the radio.”

“What about the French army and the British forces?”

“They’re being pushed back,” Marvel said. She looked tired, but she seemed calm. “We must prepare ourselves for what’s coming.”

For a moment Tyler could not speak, and then he said, “I came to tell you that I’ll be leaving France.”

“When?” Jolie asked.

“Probably tomorrow.”

“I’m actually surprised you stayed here this long, considering the military activity that’s been closing in.” Jolie pressed her palms together and took a deep breath. “I want to ask you an enormous favor.”

For a moment Tyler hoped she would ask him to take her with him, but she said, “I want you to take Rochelle, Damien, and Yolande with you.”

His mind was a jumble of thoughts as he considered the enormity of what she was asking. Finally he cleared his throat and said, “I’m sorry, but I can’t do that.”

“Why can’t you?”

“Because it would be too dangerous for them. I would need to get them all the way to the coast, and unless I’m mistaken, the Germans will be right in the way.”

“Do you know what will happen to them if this town is taken by the Germans? Do you know what Hitler does to Jews?”

Tyler knew, of course, exactly what Hitler planned for the Jews. But still the thought of trying to protect three children from harm while threading his way to the coast was more than he could take on.

“I’m sorry. I just can’t do it. It would be too dangerous.”

Something changed in Jolie’s face. She held his gaze, and her voice was even as she said, “You’re a weak man, Tyler Winslow. You think only of yourself. Please leave the house.”

Tyler couldn’t believe that she would speak to him that way. He cast a glance at Marvel Vernay, who had dropped her head.

“I’m sorry,” he said hoarsely, “but it would—”

“Please leave the house.”

Tyler did as she asked, but he knew her words would haunt him. He tried to put the children out of his mind and went home to finish packing.

He slept little that night, and Jolie’s words kept echoing in his mind.

****

The next morning Tyler boarded a northbound train, not bothering to try for a friendly good-bye from Jolie. He kept watching out the window, noting whenever the train paralleled a road that cars and buses crowded the southbound lane. There was very little traffic going north, toward Paris. He asked one of the men in the compartment with him, a small man with black hair greased down on his head, “Why’s the traffic so heavy going south?”

The man gave him a strange look. “The Germans are coming. Don’t you know that?”

“Yes, but it may not be so bad.”

The man gave him a withering look. “You are English?”

“American.”

“Then you know nothing!”

“I know—”

“You know
nothing!
” The man shook his head and closed his eyes, as if he could shut out danger by refusing to look at it.

****

When Tyler got to Paris, he got off the train and made his way to the other platform to catch his next train. As he was waiting, he watched a family that was sitting on the bench across from his—a father and mother and three small children—one a baby in the mother’s arms. The father came over, cigarette in hand, and asked Tyler if he had a match.

“No, I’m sorry, I don’t smoke,” Tyler said.

“You’re catching the train to Le Havre?” The man spoke French with an unusual accent.

“Yes, I am.”

“That’s good. You are not French?”

“No. American.”

“You’ll be all right, but I must get my family away.”

“You think it will be bad?”

The man gave him a strange look. “We’re Jewish.”

Tyler could not think of a thing to say, and finally he asked, “You think it would be too dangerous to stay here?”

“We lived in Poland. I was a banker there. When the Germans came, they put all Jews in ghettos and then sent them off to concentration camps. You Americans need to wake up. One day Hitler will be on your shores.” He turned and walked away bitterly.

As Tyler sat there, the words of the man seemed to grow in his mind. And without willing it, he saw Yolande with her golden hair and blue eyes. He saw a German soldier gruffly taking her from her friends at the orphanage.

“Are you all right, sir?”

Tyler turned to see the wife of the man who had asked him for a match. In some ways, she reminded him of Rochelle Cohen. She had the same curly black hair and dark eyes. She was looking as concerned as her husband was.

“Yes, I just had a bad thought.”

“There are many of us with bad thoughts,” she said. She looked down at the baby in her arms and said, “We pray that we will make it to the coast before the Germans cut us off.” She looked back suddenly, as if she could see through the walls and over the countryside of France. “But there are so many of our people who cannot escape. What will happen to them?” The woman began to cry, and she quickly returned to her family.

Tyler could not help but be moved by the woman’s pain. The faces of Rochelle and Damien and Yolande seemed to glow in his mind, and then he heard Jolie’s words as clearly as if she stood in front of him.
“You’re a weak man, Tyler. You think only of yourself.”

As the train appeared a good distance away, Tyler’s thoughts were scrambling. He could go back to America and marry Caroline, as she assumed he would. He could go back to Africa and take refuge with his parents. He could
return to Ambert and see if Jolie would consider returning to America with him. Or . . .

He made up his mind. He stood and gathered his luggage and then without hesitation walked straight to the ticket window. He presented his ticket to Le Havre and said, “I want to cancel this and buy a ticket to Ambert instead.”

The clerk looked at him with astonishment. “But you just came from there. Did you forget something? Your luggage perhaps?”

Suddenly Tyler smiled. “No,” he said, “my soul.”

The clerk stared at him, shrugged his shoulders, and issued a new ticket. As Tyler walked away, he heard the man mutter, “Crazy Americans!”

****

Jolie had come home at midday and sat at the kitchen table staring at her hands. The news was worse than usual. The Germans were taking France as if they were no opposition at all. The British and the French were in full retreat now. They were bottled up in a little town on the French coast called Dunkirk, and the German army was preparing to destroy them.

A knock came at the door. She got to her feet and walked slowly to open it. “Tyler?” she whispered, standing absolutely still.

“It’s me. Can I come in?”

But she did not move. “I thought you would be on the train by now.” She suddenly realized that she was hoping for some change in this man, but it was a very thin hope.

Tyler smiled, and he exuded an ease and a certainty that she had never seen in him before. “I was,” he said. “Actually, I’ve already been to Paris and come back today. I’ve come to find out if I’m any good at all,” he added.

Jolie had her eyes fixed on him. Slowly her lips grew soft and turned upward at the corners into a slight smile. “I’m glad you came back, Tyler. Come inside.”

“I know you didn’t expect me back,” he said as she closed the door.

“I hoped you might return.”

“But you didn’t really think I would.”

Her smile grew brighter, and her face was full of hope. “Have a seat and tell me all about it.”

As Tyler told his story, he couldn’t help but think,
Maybe at last I’ve done the right thing!

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