The Hesitant Hero (11 page)

Jolie came back into the room. “It was Madame Colle from next door. She wanted to borrow some milk, but we’re all out.” She saw that the two were looking serious and asked, “What are you talking about?”

“About you,” Tyler answered. “I was just saying what a strong-willed woman you are. I’ll bet you were a strong-willed child too.”

Marvel laughed. “She was that, of a certainty.”

“I’m no more strong-willed than you are, Maman.”

The two traded several teasing remarks. “Since you’ve decided I’m strong-willed, I might as well be so,” Jolie said with a smile that she could not hide. “But on a more serious note, I’ve decided to go as far as the coast with you,” she told Tyler.

“Why, that would be wonderful!” he exclaimed.

“Your French is not good enough, and the children might be a problem.”

“That may be the best thing. What port city were you thinking of?” Marvel asked.

“Le Havre, I think, would be the best, but if the radio reports are true, the Germans are already in some ports. They may already be there.”

“If that’s closed, Cherbourg might be a good option,” Marvel said.

“Yes, that would be good. It’s not far,” Jolie said. “You could cross the Channel to Bournemouth.”

“What about Rochelle? How soon will she be able to travel?”

“I would prefer to wait until she’s a hundred percent healthy,” Jolie said, “but I’ve given the matter a lot of thought today, and I think we’d better not. I think it would be best to leave as soon as possible—even tomorrow.”

CHAPTER EIGHT

A Slow Start

The morning of June tenth dawned bright and clear, and Tyler spent the morning solidifying his plan in his head and saying good-bye to the friends he had made during his stay in Ambert. After lunch he walked to the Vernay house, still thinking through his plan.

Marvel answered the door and welcomed him in, and when he went inside, he found Jolie listening to the radio. She looked up and said, “Bad news again.”

“More bad news? Are the Germans advancing faster?”

“No, but Italy has declared war on the Allies.”

“Italy!” Tyler exclaimed. “What does that mean?”

“It means,” Marvel said, “that now the Germans will be coming from the north and the Italians will be coming up from the south.”

“All the more reason to leave right away, but first we must listen to Churchill’s speech. They’ve been saying all morning that he was going to make a speech and now it’s just coming on.”

Churchill began to speak in his gravelly voice, which was unfamiliar to Tyler. He listened as the prime minister laid out the problems that lay ahead for the British Empire, then concluded by saying:

Tyler listened intently and then looked up and said, “That man means what he says.”

“I wish,” Marvel said quietly, “that we had had a man like him in charge of our government in France.”

****

All three of the children were tremendously excited, Tyler saw, when the car pulled up in front of the Vernays’ house. One of the women who worked at the orphanage had offered to give them all a ride to the train station, and they had stopped off at the house to pick up Jolie and Tyler. Rochelle looked tired and sat fairly still in the middle of the backseat, but Damien and Yolande were bubbling with excitement, their hands flying out the open car windows. Damien pumped questions at Tyler faster than he could answer them. “Can I ride in the engine? Will it be a big train? How long will it take to get there?”

“Whoa there, young man,” Tyler said with a grin, “we’ll have to see about that.”

Marvel had followed Tyler and Jolie outside, her face fixed in a set mold. She spoke cheerfully enough, but it was obvious that she was worried.

Jolie embraced her mother. “I should be back sometime tomorrow. Don’t worry about me.”

“I won’t. You’ll be all right.”

Marvel made sure the children weren’t watching and then opened her handbag and pulled out a pistol. “I want you to take this,” she said as she pressed it into Tyler’s hand.

“But, Maman, we can’t take that,” Jolie insisted. “You may need it here.”

“I will feel better if you have it. Besides, you know it makes me nervous just to have it in the house.”

“All right, Maman, if you’re sure.”

Marvel reached up and pulled Tyler’s head down, kissing him on both cheeks.

“I don’t know how to thank you for all your hospitality,” he said.

“Don’t be foolish. After this war is over you must come back. By that time you will probably be a famous painter, but come anyway.”

Tyler was touched. “I will, Marvel. And I’ll write you as soon as I get to England.”

They put their suitcases into the car and squeezed in with the children. Jolie had packed one suitcase for the girls, along with a change of clothes for herself, and Tyler had packed his things with Damien’s. Tyler had decided there was no use in trying to tote along all of his belongings. He would have enough to deal with without having to keep track of too much luggage.

As the car pulled away, Tyler looked back to see Marvel standing in front of the house. She did not wave but stood very straight. “That’s a fine mother you’ve got there. You’re very fortunate.”

“Yes, I am,” Jolie said. She adjusted Yolande’s position in her lap. “What is your mother like?”

“She’s like yours—very strong. She’s the best there is . . . and so is my father. I never appreciated them before . . . but I’m starting to now.”

When they got to the station, they had just enough time to buy their tickets before the train arrived. They boarded at once and got settled in their car. The only other people in the car were a middle-aged couple who both looked sad. Jolie settled Damien and Yolande on each side of her, while Tyler sat beside Rochelle.

“Do you feel better, Rochelle?”

“Yes, I think I’m getting better,” she said. She did not look well, however, and Tyler fervently hoped that she would not get any sicker on the journey.

“You’re taking your family out of France?”

The man, who had been seated a couple of seats away, had come down the aisle to talk to him.

“Well, yes, I am.” He did not think it necessary to go into a long explanation about his companions.

The man’s wife joined him in the aisle. “You have beautiful children,” she said as she looked from one to the next.

“We’re not his children,” Yolande said firmly, “but he’s a nice man anyway.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” the woman said.

“We are leaving France, however,” Tyler said.

“I think that’s a good idea,” the man responded.

The train started with a slight jerk and after it had picked up speed, Tyler said, “Have you heard any news about the war today?”

“Yes, I’m afraid so. The Germans have crossed the Seine to the north of Paris.”

“That’s not what we wanted to hear,” Tyler said quietly.

“Everything about this war has been bad for France.” The man fell silent and with a sigh, the two made their way back to their seats.

****

As the train passed through the countryside, it became obvious each time they passed a road that traffic was heavy. Much of it was composed of military vehicles, including trucks and even a few tanks, moving toward Paris. As was the case the last time he had been on the train, there were many cars going south out of Paris.

Before long Damien and Yolande became bored, so Jolie opened the small satchel she had brought. She took out paper and pencils and began to entertain them by drawing funny
faces. She allowed them to draw too, and after a while the two younger children started playing ticktacktoe.

It didn’t take too long to reach Vichy, where they needed to change trains. As the war went on, the train schedules grew increasingly erratic, and while getting from Ambert to Paris used to be easy, it was now more complicated.

When the train stopped, Tyler picked up Yolande, who had gone to sleep in Jolie’s lap, while Jolie retrieved their luggage. Tyler found a bench where he and the children could sit while Jolie checked on the train schedule.

She returned quickly. “It will be two hours at least. It is late.”

“I expect then that we might as well go find a restaurant and get a good meal.” Jolie and Damien each grabbed a suitcase and the group started down the street. “So much for my careful planning.”

It was only a small village, and there was only one restaurant. They went inside and woke Yolande up. She was cross, but when they ordered food and it came, she became quite cheerful. Rochelle ate little, although Jolie urged her, and finally when they left, there was nothing to do but go back to the station.

It was over an hour before the train pulled in, and as soon as it did, Tyler felt his heart sink. The train was loaded with soldiers, and though it did slow down, it didn’t stop as it passed the station. Tyler left the children with Jolie while he went to consult with the stationmaster. He soon returned, shaking his head. “The army has commandeered the train. We’ll have to wait for the next one.”

“When will that be?” Jolie asked.

“Not until tomorrow morning.” They had no choice but to find a place to stay. They were able to secure two rooms in an ancient inn close to the station. As a matter of fact, the place had almost no guests. Jolie talked with the owner, a sad-faced man who said, “I don’t know what’s going to happen. Everybody’s leaving town. My business is ruined.”

Jolie tried to offer him words of assurance, but he didn’t appear to have much hope.

Jolie settled into a plain room with the two girls, and Tyler took Damien with him. The two went to bed early, and then Damien kept up a spirited conversation for nearly an hour. Tyler was weary, but he answered the boy’s questions and did his part as long as he could. When Damien finally drifted off, Tyler’s mind was still buzzing.
What if the train doesn’t get here in the morning?
He was not accustomed to having this kind of responsibility and it troubled him. He finally managed to get to sleep, and before he knew it, Damien was nudging his shoulder.

“It’s time to get up. The sun’s up.”

After the two washed up and got dressed, they repacked their bags and went down to the lobby. Jolie and the girls were already there, waiting in some uncomfortable-looking chairs.

“Good morning, everybody. You’re looking much brighter this morning, Rochelle. How are you feeling?”

“So much better,” Rochelle told him. “I slept like a rock.”

“We all did,” Jolie said as she stood up. “I think we’d better stop at the grocery store before we go to the train station. There’s no telling what will be open on the rest of the trip.”

“That’s a good idea,” Tyler agreed. “Let’s go find some grub,” he said, using the English word for grub.

“What’s grub?” Damien demanded.

“It’s food.”

“Why’d you call it grub?”

“It’s an American word, buddy. Come on. Let’s go.” They went to the store that they had noticed the night before and bought a good supply of bread and nuts and fruit. When they went outside, the streets were full of tanks and trucks and French soldiers marching right up the middle of the street.

“It looks like they’re all headed for the battle,” Jolie said.

“I expect so.”

“Look at that one.” She was pointing at a group of passing soldiers.

“Which one?” Tyler asked.

“Right there. Why, he can’t be over fifteen years old. What a terrible thing.”

“War is always terrible. You know, that boy reminds me of something. The first time I was ever really aware of what war was, I was looking at a picture book about the American Civil War. Do you know about that?”

“I’ve read about it. A terrible war. Brother fighting against brother.”

“Yes, that’s right. Well, this book had pictures of the soldiers, and one was a full-page photo of a young boy wearing a Confederate uniform. He couldn’t have been more than thirteen or fourteen. He had the most vulnerable look I had ever seen. The caption said he was killed at a battle called Malvern Hill, and it scared me pretty bad.”

“But it all happened a long time ago.”

“I know, but suddenly it was just like I was there watching him go off to war. I could practically see his mother holding him and kissing him good-bye, telling him to take care of himself, and his brothers and sisters saying good-bye. And then he marched off to war and was killed almost at once. I thought, what if I had been that boy? And ever since then every time I think of a war I think of him.”

I’ve never seen him like this before,
Jolie thought.
It’s nice to see that he actually has some sensitivity.
She stood beside him silently as he looked sadly at the soldiers passing them.

“I still remember his name. Private Edwin Jennison, killed at the Battle of Malvern Hill.”

“You still remember that?”

“You know how some things are burned into your memory? I can see that picture even now. He was sitting there in his gray uniform with his brass buttons, his arms folded on his lap, staring straight into the camera. How many days was it after that photo was taken that he was lying dead on a hill?”

“Did he go to heaven?”

Startled by the question, Tyler looked down at Yolande,
who had been listening to all this. Her blond hair was blowing in the light breeze, and there was sadness in her eyes. “I expect he did, Yolande.”

“That’s good. I want to go to heaven when I die.”

“So do I,” Damien said. “I’m going too,” he said determinedly.

“I don’t think the archangel Gabriel could keep you out, Damien Rivard.” Tyler smiled and looked at Jolie. “Funny things stay in our minds, don’t they?”