Simple Faith (29 page)

“Just be ready.”

Ready for what?
If they didn’t know what was happening, how on earth were they supposed to be ready? Besides, he had an idea of his own about how they might manage the escape. And on top of that, he wasn’t all that sure he could trust Mikel. The guy didn’t like him—didn’t like the fact that he and Anja—

“We go tonight,” Mikel said and raised the ax over his head, prepared for one more strike. “Tell your friends to be ready.” It was as if he’d found the sweet spot. The ground exploded into chunks, and for the first time they could fill their shovels with the clumps of earth. “Dig,” Mikel barked and then added for Peter’s ears only, “And do not try and do this on your own.”

   CHAPTER 15   

B
y the time Peter and the others finished digging the grave, it was late afternoon and the sun was setting. Still the officer insisted the burial take place immediately. Reverend Mother sent for the priest in the village, who administered the last absolution just before Peter and Ian laid Roger in the coffin. Peter stepped aside while Ian and Colin held the lid in place as Mikel nailed it shut. All the while, the guards kept their rifles trained on their prisoners and the officer lounged on one of the pews.

The Basque man mumbled what Peter could only assume were traditional prayers, and the sisters who had gathered around the coffin nodded and responded from time to time with murmurs of ascent. At least once, the priest looked up suddenly as if startled by something Mikel was saying. But Reverend Mother nodded slightly, and the priest bowed his head again. Just before the last nail was driven in, Peter saw one of the nuns slip away.

When she returned a few minutes later, she was carrying a tray loaded with glasses and a carafe of wine. Anja went to help her. She took three of the glasses, filled them, and delivered them to the officer and the two guards while the nun offered glasses to the priest as well as Peter and Ian and Colin.

“What’s this?” the officer growled, holding up his wine glass.

To Peter’s surprise, it was the Irishman, Colin, who answered him. “Ah now, ‘tis a tradition among our people—a proper send-off. Surely you won’t deny us this final farewell?” He held up his glass in a toast. “To Roger, a gentle soul and a good friend,” he shouted and downed his wine.

“To Roger,” Ian echoed and downed his.

The two guards looked uncertainly at the officer, who shrugged and drank his wine. They did the same, barely able to hide their smiles of pleasure at this unexpected treat.

“I’ll have another,” the officer demanded and held out his glass.

“This is holy wine, sir,” the priest protested, “and—”

“Another! And for my men as well.”

Reverend Mother nodded to the nun. “Sister Marie, please serve our guests,” she instructed.

Peter took note of how Anja retrieved each glass from the Germans and brought it to Sister Marie rather than the nun simply moving to each man and refilling his glass. It seemed odd, but perhaps it had to do with the nun not interacting directly with a man.

The officer—followed by the two guards—downed their second glasses of wine, and then the officer stood and pointed to the coffin. “It’s almost dark. We need to get this done and get back to town.”

He motioned for the three prisoners along with Mikel to assume the role of pallbearers and then signaled the priest to lead the way out to the cemetery. Reverend Mother took a thick candle from one of the stands near the door to light their way. Anja, the guards, and the officer and the other nuns—except for Sister Marie—followed close behind the coffin as the procession made its way to the freshly opened grave. All of Peter’s senses were on high alert. Something was not right here.

They lowered the casket into the ground, and the priest began walking around the grave, murmuring prayers. At one point, he indicated that Peter and the others should begin shoveling to fill the grave, and all the while he kept up his prayers. When at last the earth was mounded over the grave and Ian had pounded a small wooden cross into the ground at one end, the priest went silent.

Peter stepped back and leaned on his shovel and heard a thud behind him. He turned and saw the officer on the ground with the two guards standing over him. Then to his amazement, one of them collapsed and then the other.

“We must move quickly,” Reverend Mother instructed, taking charge of the situation.

Mikel helped Peter and the others load the soldiers into the truck and climb aboard. He then drove the truck into the forest that lay between the convent and the village. There he had them put one of the guards behind the steering wheel, the officer in the passenger seat, and the third man in the rear of the truck. When the guard in the rear began to waken, Mikel struck him with the butt of the guard’s rifle.

“Let’s go,” he ordered, and Peter and the others followed him without question as he set off on foot back toward the convent.

Anja had heard every word of Mikel’s “prayers” laying out the plan for escape. When he had gotten to the part about drugging the soldiers using a mixture of holy wine and the drug they kept on hand for relieving the severest pain and suffering, she had glanced quickly at Reverend Mother—as had the priest. The nun had acknowledged the plan with a slight nod.

And so Anja had assisted Sister Marie by taking the glasses that already had a pool of clear liquid in the bottom, filling them with wine, and delivering them—not once but twice to the officer and the guards. Her heart had filled with admiration for the cleverness of Mikel’s plan. It worked perfectly, and the three Germans passed out in the cemetery.

But it was after Mikel and the others had driven the military transport back toward the village that she received the instructions she would have debated had Mikel been there.

“Come,” Sister Marie urged as soon as the truck had disappeared into the night. “You need to change, and we have to get Daniel dressed for the journey.”

“No. We will stay here and wait until Mikel gets the evaders to the safe house near the mountains. Then they will be on their way, and he will return for us. We are going back to Brussels.”

“Mikel cannot return here, and you are in grave danger as well. Once the officer realizes the prisoners have escaped, someone will have to be blamed—someone will have to pay the price. Also the American will not go without you—of that Mikel is certain.”

“But—”

“Once you are away from here, then you can perhaps form a new plan, but for now …”

“How do you know this? He said nothing about—”

“He knew you would not agree, but he explained the situation to Reverend Mother, and she agrees that this is the best—the only—plan. Now hurry please.”

While Sister Marie helped Daniel dress, Anja changed out of the uniform of a novice and back into the trousers, heavy sweater, and man’s jacket she’d been wearing when they arrived at the convent. How could she ever repay the kindness that she and Daniel had received from these dear women? And what of their safety? What if …

“I cannot do this. You and the others will be made to suffer for what we have done, and—”

“Shhh. You must trust in God, Anja. We are led to do what we can to help those who are in danger. Mikel’s plan is very clever because he took the soldiers away from the convent and made it seem as if they were on their way back to the village when the prisoners broke away. They will blame it on the wine, not us.”

“Mama? Sister Marie says we are going on a trip to another village. Will Momse and Moffee be there?”

“No, but as soon as we make sure our friend Peter and the others are safe, we will go and find Momse and Moffee.” It was one more empty promise—one she hoped she would one day keep.

“Where is Peter going?”

“Home.”

“To America?” Daniel looked alarmed.

“Yes. That’s his home, just as …”
Where is home for us?

“But Mama, Peter said that he was going to take us with him. He said that one day—”

“Yes, one day perhaps we will go to America and visit Peter and his family. Would you like that?” She hurried to button his coat over the layers of shirt, sweater, and jacket that Sister Marie had dressed him in.

“I suppose, but he said …”

“Peter is a dreamer like you are,” she said and tweaked his nose, smiling so that he would take her words as teasing. “First he will have to return to his unit and serve his country until the war ends.”

“And
then
we will go to America,” Daniel announced to Sister Marie as if there were no doubt of it.

“Very well then. You have a plan, but right now the plan is for you and Mama to hurry and meet Mikel at the edge of the woods.” Sister Marie hugged Daniel hard, and Anja saw tears pool in her eyes as she released him and smiled. “I expect a letter from you, young man—and a drawing of what all you are seeing once you cross the mountains.” Her voice cracked, and once again she pulled him close and hugged him.

“We must go,” Anja said, and she squeezed the nun’s hand. “Thank you for everything you did for Daniel and me.”

“Go, and may God bless you on your journey.”

As she and Daniel made their way down the narrow corridor to the side exit that Mikel had always used to bring her messages and visit Daniel, she was surprised and deeply moved to see the other nuns and Reverend Mother lining the way. Silently, they watched her come and then bowed their heads as she and Daniel passed. By the time she reached Reverend Mother, tears were streaming down her cheeks.

“I don’t know how to thank you,” she began but choked on the words.

The nun cupped her cheek, catching her tears with her thumb. “God be with you, my child,” she said softly and then opened the side door, looked carefully around, and motioned Anja and Daniel to exit. “Go quickly,” she urged as Anja took hold of Daniel’s hand and they ran across the open courtyard toward the dark shadows of the woods.

How many journeys must they travel before she and Daniel could finally stop running?

Peter could not believe what he was hearing. The Irishman—Colin—was talking to Mikel in fluent French. He had understood every word of Mikel’s conversation with Anja.

“Where did you learn to speak French?” Peter asked when Mikel walked on ahead of them—his way of indicating that he was not in the mood for conversation.