Chasing Shadows Read online

  “The battles will surely start any day, now that winter is over,” she repeated each morning.

  “Yes, but the Netherlands is neutral. The war won’t come here,” Ans tried to assure her. She made sure Eloise continued with their usual routines, getting out of the town house for a walk, planning trips to Amsterdam or outings in Leiden, eating lunch with Miriam.

  The three women were having lunch on a rainy afternoon in one of Eloise’s favorite cafés when a man rushed in, shouting to the owner, “Have you heard the news? The Nazis just invaded Norway!” Waiters froze with trays of food in their hands. Everyone in the restaurant stopped eating to listen. “Nazi warships have landed in Oslo with thousands of troops!” the man continued. Ans wanted to shout at him to be quiet. Norway was neutral, like the Netherlands.

  Eloise set down her fork and removed her napkin from her lap, laying it across her half-finished plate. “Tell the waiter we need our check. We’re going home.”

  “Let’s finish our lunch first,” she said, resting her hand on Eloise’s arm. But Eloise grew increasingly agitated as the man continued to describe the invasion of Norway and a simultaneous attack on neutral Denmark.

  “Tell me what has happened,” Miriam said. “Is it something with the war?”

  Ans nodded. “The Nazis invaded Norway and Denmark.” She spoke softly, hoping no one would overhear her speaking German, aware of strong anti-Nazi sentiment in the Netherlands.

  Eloise pushed her chair away from the table and asked for the check. “Come, Ans. We need to hurry home.” Eloise’s slender body trembled so badly on the way home that Ans and Miriam had to support her, juggling umbrellas and dodging puddles. Vendors shouted out the headlines from every newsstand they passed, and Eloise made Ans stop and buy them.

  They arrived at the town house soaking wet, their feet drenched. “Let me fetch some towels for everyone,” Ans said, combing her fingers through her rain-matted hair. Eloise didn’t reply as she went into the front room and switched on the radio.

  “Eloise, maybe we should wait for Professor—”

  “Oh, do be quiet, Ans. I’m trying to hear this.” She sank onto the sofa, white-faced and trembling.

  Ans asked Miriam to get the towels. “Can you stay and help me?” Ans whispered when she returned.

  “Yes, of course.”

  What the man in the restaurant had said was true. Nazi warships had sailed past British mines to land in major Norwegian ports from Narvik to Oslo. Thousands of troops poured ashore. A Norwegian military commander who was a Nazi sympathizer had ordered Norwegian troops not to stop them. The Nazis also had invaded Copenhagen and other Danish cities, demanding that the overwhelmed Danish government surrender.

  “Norway and Denmark were neutral,” Eloise said. “Neutral! Just like Belgium was in the Great War. Just like we are here in the Netherlands. See, Ans? Neutrality means nothing to those people. Nothing!” Her voice sounded shaky at first but seemed to grow stronger along with her anger.

  “Eloise, please,” Ans said, handing her a towel. “We need to turn off the radio until your husband comes home. It’s only going to stir up memories that you need to forget.”

  “Forget! I won’t ever forget! You weren’t even born when the Kaiser decided to use neutral Belgium as a shortcut to Paris. They killed my parents and took over our house in Antwerp.”

  Ans had never seen Eloise this upset. Should she telephone the professor? She had a number where he could be reached at the university in an emergency.

  “My older brother escaped to France and fought with the Allies,” Eloise continued. “He was gassed in the war. I saw him one last time, and he begged me to kill him and end his suffering.” Eloise turned to Miriam, commanding her attention as if both of their lives were now at risk. “We nearly starved to death, Miriam!”

  Miriam seemed to have trouble breathing whenever she became upset, and she was clearly in distress now.

  “Eloise, stop. You’re upsetting yourself and Miriam, too. Please—”

  “You both need to know that wars always bring famine and disease and starvation. Thousands of innocent people died of hunger in Belgium before the world stepped in to help us.”

  “But you survived and you moved here—”

  “There were too many horrible memories for me in Belgium.”

  “And you married the professor,” Ans said, desperate to steer her memories in a different direction. “He loves you very much, I can tell. You have a beautiful life together. I hope I find a husband someday who loves me half as much as he loves you.” Eloise managed a smile. “When your thoughts go to the past, why not think of the present, instead? And the future?”

  Eloise’s eyes filled with tears. “There won’t be a future—that’s what I’m trying to tell you, Ans. It’s going to happen all over again. Enemy occupation. Starvation and death—”

  “Stop!” Ans grabbed Eloise’s flailing hands, squeezing them tightly. “You don’t know that, Eloise. Our country has already mobilized hundreds of thousands of troops who are positioned to defend us if—”

  “We Belgians did the same thing.” She shook her hands free. “The troops won’t do any good. Ask the Danes and the Norwegians.”

  “Our country was spared in the last war—”

  “It won’t be spared this time.” Eloise stared into space as tears washed down her cheeks. Ans wondered if she dared to leave her side long enough to call Professor Huizenga.

  “Maybe you’re right. Maybe it will happen again. But until it does, let’s be happy, Eloise. Let’s take the train to Amsterdam tomorrow and see the artwork. Miriam can come with us and—”

  “It’s too dreary to travel in the rain.”

  “Then let’s enjoy the rain! We’ll walk Miriam home with our umbrellas up and our boots on, and we’ll slosh through all the puddles like children. We can stop at the flower market and buy flowers for every room in the house. And when we get home, we’ll drink pots and pots of tea and listen to beautiful music on the gramophone.”

  Eloise looked up at Ans with a weak smile. Her tears continued to fall. “You’re right, dear, dear Ans. We do have today, don’t we? But our lives could change in an instant, just as they have for those poor Norwegians. And then nothing will ever be the same.”

  Ans was scrambling to think of what to say next when she heard a key turn in the front door. Professor Huizenga hurried in. Thank God. He sat down beside Eloise, still wearing his wet overcoat, and gently pulled her into his arms. “I was afraid you might have heard the news, my love, so I came home right away.”

  “You won’t leave me, Herman?”

  “Never.” He looked up at Ans over his wife’s head and nodded. She could go.

  “I’ll walk you home,” Ans whispered to Miriam. They put their wet coats back on and headed out in the rain again with their dripping umbrellas. It wasn’t far to Miriam’s apartment, but neither of them said a word, as if exhausted by the afternoon’s events.

  Miriam turned to Ans when they reached her door. “I fear Eloise is right,” she said softly. “What happened to her in Belgium and what happened to us in Germany—it could happen all over again.”

  “But maybe—”

  She held up her hand to stop Ans. “But you are right, too, Ans. We still have today. We must live in hope today and not in despair.” She hugged Ans and said goodbye.

  By the time Ans returned to the town house, the radio was off and the professor had coaxed Eloise upstairs to her bedroom. Ans made a pot of tea and was sitting in the kitchen, drying off and warming up by the range, when Professor Huizenga found her there. He looked cold and pale and even thinner than the day Ans first met him. “I fear this war will be the end of her,” he said with a sigh.

  “Is she okay?”

  “For now. Eloise has taken her medicine. It will make her sleepy.”

  “Would you like a cup of tea?” she asked, lifting the pot. “There’s plenty.”

  He shook his head. “I’m taking Eloise awa
y for a few days. The sea air always refreshes her. I thought you might like to go home to see your family while we’re away.”

  “Thank you. I think I’ll do that.”

  “Ans, I don’t know how to thank you for being such good medicine for Eloise—no, you’re much more than that. You’re her friend.”

  “I like her very much, Professor. I hope this trip will be good for her.”

  “Yes. So do I.”

  Ans decided not to take the train home, needing time and space between her life in Leiden and the farm. It was a long bicycle ride, but she left early Sunday morning and arrived just as her family was returning from church. Her mother held her tightly and seemed reluctant to let go. Ans thought of Miriam and Eloise, who had both lost their mothers, as she embraced her own. Both women had also lost their homes, and Ans felt guilty for having wanted so badly to leave hers.

  “My turn! My turn!” Maaike danced around Ans, pulling on her hands and begging to be picked up and carried, even though at six years old she was no longer a baby. Ans gave her and Wim the chocolates she had brought.

  “But you have to wait until after dinner to eat them,” she warned. Maaike gave an impish grin and slipped a piece into her mouth when she thought no one was looking. “Spoiled girl!” Ans said with a laugh. She gave her sister a playful swat before following their mother into the kitchen. “Need help, Mama?”

  “No, I think everything’s ready.”

  Mama always set the table the night before and peeled the potatoes and carrots. They had gone into the oven with the smoked pork before church and smelled heavenly now. When Opa arrived, they all sat down for Sunday dinner.

  Ans looked at her beloved family gathered around the table, and it was as if she’d never left home. Nothing had changed here on the farm, which was comforting in a way. But Ans knew she had changed. She’d done so many new things, had made new friends, had even learned to dance. And she had a boyfriend whose kisses awakened all sorts of new possibilities.

  “Is the job working out well?” Opa asked as platters of meat and mashed potatoes and carrots made their way around the table.

  “I like Professor Huizenga and his wife a lot,” she replied. “I’m supposed to be Eloise’s companion, but it’s almost the other way around. She takes me to so many interesting places like concert halls and art museums. I’m getting a wonderful education from her.” She didn’t mention Eloise’s frailty. It seemed wrong to expose her weakness. She wondered how much Opa knew about the situation.

  “I’m glad,” he said. “And that you like it there.”

  “I’ve also met an interesting family from Cologne, Germany. Miriam Jacobs and her father are Jewish refugees. Professor Huizenga helped Mr. Jacobs find work as a lecturer at the university, and Mrs. Huizenga and I helped them get settled in an apartment.”

  “From the looks of things,” Papa said, “they got out of Germany just in time.”

  “Miriam’s mother and the rest of her family didn’t make it out. They’re still there. And Miriam’s boyfriend is stuck in Westerbork.”

  “War brings so many horrible disruptions,” Mama said. “All of the boys you went to school with, Ans, have gone off for military training.”

  “I wish I was old enough to be a soldier,” Ans’s brother said.

  “Oh, Wim!” She punched his shoulder. “You’re just a boy.” She could tell by the stubborn jut of his chin that he disagreed.

  “We have work to do now that spring has arrived,” Papa said, “and we’re shorthanded.”

  “Your father went away for military training too—” Mama began.

  “And I’m still in the reserves,” he finished. “I’ll be called up if I’m needed. This invasion of Norway and Denmark worries me. In the meantime, I’m needed on the farm. The government has been stockpiling food so our country will survive if the war disrupts trade.”

  “Like Joseph and Pharaoh in the Bible,” Opa said. “Storing food in times of plenty is a very wise thing to do.”

  “Wars always bring famine and disease and starvation,” Eloise had told Ans. She looked at the bountiful meal in front of her and couldn’t imagine it.

  Papa read from the Bible and prayed after dinner, as he’d done for as long as Ans could remember. Mama asked polite questions about the city and Ans’s job as they did the dishes but seemed hesitant to pry into her personal life. Ans longed to tell her about Erik and how much she missed him now that he was away. But mentioning Erik would bring unwelcome questions about his background and his faith, questions that Ans wasn’t ready to answer.

  When the dishes were done, Ans slipped into the barn to talk with Papa. He was diligent about not working on the Lord’s Day, but he still made sure his animals were cared for. He’d changed from his Sunday suit and looked more like the papa she loved in his well-worn work clothes.

  “Do you think we’ll be caught up in the war?” Ans asked.

  “We managed to stay neutral the first time. We should be able to do it again.”

  “Then why do you seem so worried?”

  “Do I?” He raked his hand through his thick hair, and Ans thought she saw a few silver strands among the blond ones.

  “Yes. Mama seems worried too. Mrs. Huizenga grew up in Belgium, and she told me horrible stories about what happened to her country when the Kaiser’s armies invaded. She thinks it will happen here.”

  He didn’t reply right away.

  “Your mother and I both remember how the first war disrupted our lives, even though our country wasn’t involved. I was a young man—in love with your mother,” he added with a shy smile. “And I think this war is already disrupting our lives. All of the farmers are shorthanded, for one thing.”

  “We feel the tension in the city, too. Professor Huizenga says so many students have gone off for military training that the university is half-empty.”

  “Your mother worries about you, Ans. Maybe you could write to her a little more often so she knows you’re all right?”

  “Yes, I’m sorry. I’ll try harder from now on. There isn’t a lot to say sometimes.”

  He pulled her close in a one-armed hug. “I worry about you, too, my girl. It’s a father’s job to protect his daughter, no matter how old she is.”

  Ans thought of the lengths Miriam’s father had gone to protect her and knew Papa would have done the same. “I know, Papa, and I love you for it.”

  “You aren’t going to forget how to milk a cow while you’re away, are you?”

  She laughed. “Not likely!”

  “Well, if you need some practice while you’re home, let me know.”

  When it was time for Ans to return to Leiden, Wim rode alongside her for a mile or two, chattering about the war and his best friend’s brother, who had gone away for training. “The Nazis have tanks that can roll over anything in their path and smash it flat,” he said. The wind ruffled his pale hair like wheat. “Nothing stops them! And they have so many planes that they fill the sky from one end to the other!”

  “How do you know so much about it?”

  “The radio,” he said, shrugging as if it were obvious. “But their tanks won’t get very far in our country. If they try to invade us, we’re going to open the dikes and flood the land and drown them all.”

  “Did you learn that from the radio, too?”

  “Papa makes me turn it off when they start talking about gruesome things, like what the Nazis did in Poland.”

  “I should think so! You’re only twelve!”

  “But my friend Hans listens to all of it, every night, and he tells me what I missed.”

  Ans wanted to plead with Wim not to listen, to remain an innocent child for just a while longer. She understood what Papa meant when he’d said the war was disrupting their lives.

  “Hey, you won’t tell Papa about all the stuff Hans tells me, will you?” Wim asked suddenly.

  Ans shook her head. If Wim didn’t hear the war news from Hans, he would hear it from somebody else. “Your se
cret is safe with me,” she replied. They pedaled together for another mile before Wim had to turn back. “Thanks for riding with me, Wim. You’re still my favorite brother, you know.”

  He grinned at the joke they always shared, then turned serious. “Are you ever coming back home to live with us again, Ans?”

  She hesitated—then decided her brother needed to hear the truth. “I don’t think so, Wim. Leiden is my home now. I’m sorry.”

  “Ja . . . so am I.”

  CHAPTER 12

  Three weeks after Ans’s visit to her family, she awoke to the sound of distant thunder. She listened for rain, thinking she might need to get up and close her bedroom window. The distant booms continued—sometimes one or two, sometimes a cluster of them. Yet the thunder didn’t rumble any closer or fade into the distance like a regular storm.

  Maybe it wasn’t thunder.

  Now there was another odd sound from far away—a low, droning roar like a rushing waterfall. It grew steadily louder. Closer.

  Airplanes. Not one, but many.

  Ans scrambled out of bed and parted the curtains to peer out. She couldn’t see anything. The rumbling was on the other side of the town house. She left her room and felt her way downstairs toward the dining room windows. A shadowy figure in the foyer startled her. Ans gasped and backed up a step. Eloise turned to face her.

  “Did you hear them, too?” she asked. Her face was as pale as the streak of white that swept through her dark hair, as pale as her delicate silk nightgown. Ans’s heart raced faster. Professor Huizenga had gone to Den Haag on an overnight trip. They were alone.