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“And that’s why we cannot wait for him to return. He’s fighting for Germany, not because he wants to, but because he hopes that will protect his mother and sister. But if you and Margrit and Sonja stay, the SS or Milice will eventually find you. None of us will survive if that happens, and that includes Johann.”
Oskar looks over where the trapdoor lays open and releases another sigh, the world on his shoulders growing heavier. He turns back to me. “Okay, we’ll go with you. For Sonja’s sake.”
Thank God. A momentary jolt of relief pulses through my veins, only to be quickly replaced with fear for what will come soon.
We return to the cellar, and he explains the plan to Margrit and the still sleepy Sonja.
I hand them the forged carte d’identités. “Your name is Ava,” I tell Sonja. “It is very important you remember that.”
Her lips push into a sad pout. “But I like my name.”
I crouch to her level and smile, making sure she sees nothing on my face that betrays the turmoil inside me. “It’s a beautiful name. But for now, you are called Ava. It’s a pretty name too. Non?”
She seems to contemplate my question for a heartbeat and nods.
“And it’s very important you don’t mention your uncle, Johann,” I tell her. “Or anything to do with this place. You should try not to talk when you’re around other people, just to be safe.”
She peers up at her mother, worry furrowing her small brow. Margrit repeats in German what I said. Sonja nods, but it’s not enough to smooth out her frown.
“It’s best you don’t speak German,” I remind her. “That will raise too many questions.” Especially because her German is more fluent than her French. “Stay here and I will come back for you shortly,” I tell them and leave the barn, praying they will make it out of France alive. Praying they will make it safely to their final destination, together.
Unlike the previous times I travelled from the local train station, German soldiers now demand to see our carte d’identités before we can approach the platforms. I don’t recognise these two soldiers. I haven’t seen them around the village.
Oskar goes first and hands the soldier his papers. He isn’t wearing the armband identifying him as Jewish. None of the family are.
Margrit and Sonja watch the soldier check Oskar’s papers and the satchel with food. They don’t acknowledge they know me. I’m just another passenger who happens to be standing behind them in the queue.
The soldier inspects the carte d’identité and Oskar’s face, then hands the papers to him. The entire time, Oskar is calm as though none of this is a big deal. It’s nothing more than a minor inconvenience like everything to do with the war.
Margrit’s hand shakes as she passes hers and Sonja’s carte d’identités to the soldier.
He gazes down at Sonja and smiles. “You look like my daughter.”
His French is broken, but it’s enough for Sonja to understand. She gives him a shy grin and hugs the teddy bear Johann gave her tighter to her chest.
Good girl. I could not have asked for a better response from her. She is doing as I instructed. You beautiful, brave little girl.
The soldier gives hers and Margrit’s papers a cursory scan, quickly searches through Margrit’s handbag, and waves them on. They walk with Oskar to the platform without looking back at me.
I glance over my shoulder as if expecting to find Johann there, wondering why I’m flaunting his friends in plain view of the Germans. But the only people behind me are those waiting to board the train.
I hand my papers to a soldier. He inspects them and searches through my handbag, unaware of the secret compartment with the wad of money to fund the journey. He returns the bag to me without so much as a raised eyebrow.
It’s not until I’m near Oskar and his family on the platform that I can finally breathe. For now, anyway.
The train trip goes smoothly.
The sun is high in the sky and the heat is stifling when we arrive at the entrance to the park in Dijon.
Oskar removes a coin from his coat pocket and hands it to me. It’s an Austrian coin that is old and damaged and has a hole in the centre. “Give this to Johann. Tell him it really is a lucky coin. He will know what that means.”
Oskar scoops Sonja up in his arms. Margrit hugs me. “Thank you so much,” she whispers in my ear. “I hope one day, once this war is over, we will see each other again.”
I hug her back. “I hope so too. Take care and stay safe.”
I give Sonja a quick kiss on her brow.
They enter the park. I wait a minute and then follow after them, keeping a fair distance from them as if I do not know them.
