Hero (6 page)

“Hold on to the mane.” Gabe walked the horse outside. They stood for a moment and listened. Straining their ears, they heard the low rumbling of trucks nearing the village from the south.

In one leap, Gabe settled behind Izaak. Hero's ears flattened, his legs danced.

Izaak stroked the stallion's neck. “We'll save you,” he whispered.

Gabe took the reins and steered the horse past the farm and into the fields. Izaak bounced, trying to find his balance. If it hadn't been for Gabe's body firm against his back and Gabe's arms around him holding the reins,
Izaak was sure he would have fallen off the horse right away.

“There's Albert mending the fence,” Izaak said, panting as he tried to balance with the rhythm of the horse's movements.

“The Germans are coming,” Izaak shouted at Albert, who watched them with questioning eyes.

Albert waved at them. “Go!” he shouted.

“Hold on tight,” Gabe grunted behind him. “We're going to speed up.”

Izaak gripped the mane tightly and tried to move his body with Hero's. In the distance loomed the sea dike. Not the real sea dike, he knew, but the middle one of three dikes to protect the land from the sea. This dike was called the dreamer.

For the next fifteen minutes, Izaak tried to do several things at the same time. He needed to remember to dig in his knees and to hold on to Hero's mane. Hero's trot made Izaak bounce
up and down like a ball. Gabe's arms folded around him, keeping him on the horse.

Once they entered the path to the dike, Gabe spurred Hero into a gallop. Now Izaak felt as if he would fly over the horse's neck. He gripped the mane until his hands felt numb. The wind pulled his hair. Flecks of white foam blew from Hero's mouth into Izaak's face.

The horse's muscles beneath him surged with power. His heart raced. They had to succeed, he thought. They had to.

They reached the foot of the dike. “Whoa,” Gabe shouted. Hero slowed down.

Izaak turned his head and looked back at the farm.

Gabe dismounted and helped Izaak off the horse. Izaak's legs trembled so badly that they almost buckled. Gabe led Hero by the bridle up the slope of the dike. Until they reached
the other side, they would be visible from quite a distance.

Once below the dike, Hero started nibbling on the first new sprigs of grass.

Izaak looked at Gabe. “Why is this dike called the dreamer?”

“There are three dikes.” Gabe said. “The sleeper. The dreamer.” He patted the ground they were sitting on. “The next one,” he said, pointing at the dike ahead of them, “is the watcher. The watcher is the highest and has to protect the land from the sea,” Gabe said. “Now, crawl to the top, but stay low.”

Izaak squinted in the direction of the farm. Three military trucks were driving down the road from the village. Izaak crawled down, his face white with fear. “Three trucks,” he said.

“Stay down,” Gabe said. “For now, we're safe.”

Izaak and Gabe sat down in the grass.

“If the Germans find us …, ” Gabe took a deep breath. “They'll take Annie
and you and me away and send Uncle Piet and Aunt Anna to a concentration camp.”

Izaak nodded. The older boys at school had talked about it one day. A family that lived close to the church had been taken away. Izaak paused. A father, mother and four children had been sent to a concentration camp because they were hiding a Jew.

“Where is your family?” Izaak had wondered about Gabe and his family, but had been afraid to ask. Today he felt that he could.

“My family was in hiding on a farm in the next town, over there.” Gabe pointed to the east and stared into the distance. “The farmer raised and trained prize-winning Frisian horses.” He pointed at Hero.

Izaak watched Gabe's face. The older boy seemed so far away.

“One day I took Marijke to a neighboring farm to help with the haying.” He paused as if he had to think what happened next.

“When we returned at night, they were gone.” Gabe stood up. He thrust his hands in his pockets.

“The farmer, his wife, my mother, father and three sisters. Gone!” His voice rose. He paced the grass. Back and forth. Back and forth. “They're all in some camp either in Poland or Germany!” He screamed now. “They're probably murdered by the Nazis! And only because we're Jews!” Tears streamed down his face.

Izaak's heart hurt. The ball in his stomach tightened. He wanted to touch Gabe, but his body wouldn't move.

“I hate being a Jew.” Gabe fell on his knees. He pounded the earth with his fists. “I hate it! I hate everything!” His sobs were long, shaking his entire body.

Izaak held his breath. Hero grazed beside him. He couldn't believe what Gabe had said. Did he hate being a Jew? No, but being a Jew had brought him here and made him miss his family.
Papa had always told him he should be proud to be Jewish. But Gabe made him doubt Papa's words.

Izaak didn't know how long they stayed behind the dike. Time was filled with thoughts and fear. Any moment he expected a fierce-looking soldier with a rifle to peer over the dike.

“I don't know where my family is.” Izaak didn't know if Gabe heard.

Gabe looked at him. His face was swollen and the one side looked even more purple than usual, but it didn't scare Izaak anymore.

“I know,” Gabe said. He wiped his face on the sleeve of his farmer's jacket. “But the Germans will not take Hero.” Gabe's voice sounded angry.

“Why do they want Hero? He's not Jewish.” Izaak didn't understand.

Gabe smiled. “No. The Germans want to use him in the war because he's strong and healthy.”

“They'll never get him.” Izaak balled his fists.

“The Germans sent Uncle Piet a letter, ordering him to hand over the horse. Once, the Germans came to the farm, but that day Hero was at the blacksmith in the village. We sent Annie to tell the smith to keep the horse till dark.”

Izaak let out a sigh. He refused to think what would have happened if Hero hadn't been at the blacksmith.

“Uncle Piet brought the horse back when it was dark. From that time on we've tried to hide Hero as much as possible. We took him to the blacksmith once as a precaution, but the Germans never came.”

He motioned Izaak to the top of the dike.

Izaak crawled up the grassy slope, lay on his stomach and peered in the direction of the farm. His eyes narrowed into slits as he observed the farm buildings. All of a sudden he spotted a figure walking in the fields. Was it a soldier? No, there would have
been more than one. He watched for a few moments more. When he turned around, Gabe was lying on his stomach beside Hero.

Izaak turned back to his task. The wind chilled his body. He shivered, but kept his eyes on the lonely figure in the fields as it drew closer. At last Izaak recognized Albert.

“Gabe!” Izaak called down. “It's Albert!”

Slowly, Gabe got to his feet and joined him. Side by side they watched Albert come to the dike, until they felt it safe enough to wave at him.

“It's all right. You can come home.”

Gabe tugged at his sleeve. “Go get Hero.”

For a moment Izaak stared at Gabe. Then he rushed down the slope.

Hero looked up and neighed.

Izaak ruffled Hero's mane and pressed his own nose against Hero's. “I told you we would save you,” he whispered. Then he took the bridle and coached Hero up the slope. “Come, Hero. You
can do it.” Gabe and Albert stood on top of the dike.

“Here. I'll give you a hand up.” Gabe smiled at him. “Hold onto the reins.”

Izaak grabbed hold of the reins and dug his heels into Hero's warm sides. He swayed gently as Hero walked beside the men.

Albert looked up at Izaak. “That was quite the rescue. Who thought of that brilliant idea?”

Gabe smiled. “Jan here.”

“Did the soldiers come?” Izaak asked.

“Yes,” Albert answered. “The three of you went over the dike just as I heard the trucks. I went to the kitchen to find Piet. He was worried like crazy. He had no idea how Gabe and the horse could have disappeared.”

Izaak's heart pounded. “He didn't know about me?”

“No. When I told him, he grinned.”

Izaak felt so tall, looking at the world from Hero's back. “What did he
do when the soldiers came? Did they take the other two?”

“Since when do you talk so much?” Albert pulled at his cap and smiled at Izaak.

Izaak's face burned.

“The soldiers searched the barn and the stables, but didn't go into the living quarters, which surprised us. They asked about
der Hengst
, the stallion, and Piet knew they meant Hero. He told them the horse had been stolen a couple of weeks ago. At first they didn't believe him, but after they'd searched everywhere, they left. They were not interested in the mares, just the stallion.”

A great weight slid off Izaak's shoulders. Gabe looked at him and patted his knee. A warm feeling entered his chest.

“Tomorrow the horses will stay outside all night as well. The weather is warm enough.” Gabe lifted one of Marijke's hind legs and brushed the long hairs down.

“You mean we won't bring them inside anymore?” Izaak copied Gabe's actions on one of Hero's hind legs. “How will we protect them?” He let go of the leg and leaned against the warm body.

“The war's over. It's a matter of days. The Germans are not interested in horses anymore. They have to save their own hides.” Gabe stood up and peered over
the horse's back. “The Germans are fleeing. The troops are disorganized. They have no food and haven't been paid in weeks. Don't you remember what they said on the radio last night?”

Izaak nodded. He could hardly believe that the war was really going to be over. No more hiding from the German soldiers. But most important — the thought sent shivers up his spine — he would be able to find his family. At least he hoped so.

Gabe stopped brushing. “Listen.”

Izaak put down Hero's leg. “I don't hear anything,” he said. He listened again.

Gabe stepped away from Hero and walked over to the door to the barn, opened it and walked in.

As Izaak followed, his ears caught the sound of engines. Motorcycles. German motorcycles. His heart froze. Panic gripped him. “We have to hide!” Izaak screamed. “We have to hide Hero!”

Gabe clenched his fists. “What are they doing here? It's too late to hide Hero. Quick, climb into the trough and I'll cover you with hay.”

“What if the soldiers use pitchforks to check the trough?”

“They won't!” Gabe screamed. “Get in!”

“What about you? Where will you hide?” Izaak's voice was shrill with fear.

“I don't know.” Gabe seemed lost for words. “It's too late. We're all going to die anyway. You have to hide, Jan!”

“I won't.” Izaak had made up his mind. “If the Germans are going to take Hero, they'll have to take me too. I know how to take care of him.” He felt calm now.

“No, you don't. Come here. I'll give you an up!”

Izaak glared at Gabe. “NO!”

Gabe raced around Marijke and stood in front of Izaak. They didn't speak.

The sound of the engines droned closer.

Izaak kept both feet on the ground.

Gabe took a step towards him. He lifted his arm, brush in hand.

Izaak stared at Gabe. He breathed hard, his eyes big.

Something heavy hit the side of Izaak's head. His head spun. The sound of the engines drowned out the scents and sounds of the stable. He tried to focus. Blackness cloaked him as he felt himself being lifted.

Soft and sharp sticks tickled Izaak's nose. He moved his arm. Hay. He was lying in a heap of hay. A sharp pain shot through his head. For a moment, he lay still. One by one, the events came back to him. His heart pounded.

The Germans. Hero. Gabe with the brush in his hand.

Izaak listened. Muffled voices came through the stable door. Holding his head,
Izaak sat up. Hay covered his head and body. He didn't bother wiping it off.

He stared at the three empty stalls. Hero, Marijke and Clasina were gone. So was Gabe.

His limbs trembling, Izaak climbed over the iron bars of the trough. With a soft thud, he landed in the straw below. T rying not to make a sound, he padded to the door. It stood ajar.

The barn doors were open too. Outside, he spotted four soldiers with rifles, one of Uncle Piet's wagons and the behinds of three familiar horses.

He heard Uncle Piet's voice. “You're not taking all my horses. I need them for the haying and I need the wagon. Marijke here,” he pointed at the horse in the middle, “is having a foal.”

Izaak didn't understand what the Germans were saying. He crept out of the stables and into the barn, staying close to the wall so the soldiers couldn't see him.

Through the gap beside the hinges of the barn door he spotted Gabe. Gabe was holding Marijke and Hero by their bits. Albert held onto Clasina's.

From the doorway of the small house, Nel and the children watched the events at the barn.

Again Izaak heard Uncle Piet say, “I need those horses!”

The German's reply sounded angry.

Izaak noticed the soldier's black leather boots. The war was supposed to be over.

The boots marched over to Gabe.

Izaak's heart froze. Now they're going to find out Gabe is a Jew, he thought.

“If you take the horses,” Gabe's voice trembled, “you have to take me too.”

“Gabe, no!” Uncle Piet stepped forward. A soldier grabbed Uncle Piet from behind and pulled him back.

More soldiers talked.

Izaak didn't understand a word they said. The ball in his stomach rolled.

To Izaak's surprise another soldier
grabbed Marijke by the bridle. He turned the horse around and handed her to Uncle Piet.

Izaak pressed his fists into his stomach. Had they changed their minds? Were they not taking the horses?