The Hesitant Hero (27 page)

“Unless they can walk on water, which I doubt, they’ll never catch us. Come on.”

Jolie scrambled to get on board while the men carried the limp body onto the boat. Jean let the major’s head drop onto the deck and then called, “Is Pascal back yet?”

“There he is,” Tyler said as Pascal flew toward the dock.

As soon as the man had jumped aboard, Jean called, “Let’s get out of here!”

Arnaud looked down at the major, his hair dripping on the man. “Is he dead? But no, I suppose my luck couldn’t be that good.”

Jolie bent over and took the major’s pulse. “No. Just knocked out.”

“Too bad,” Arnaud laughed before disappearing.

Jean came to stand over the fallen officer. “I wouldn’t have shed any tears if Arnaud had killed him, but he’ll do well enough in a British prisoner-of-war camp.” He turned to the wheel. The engine was already started. He watched as the men cast off the lines and jumped back aboard. At once he shoved the throttle forward.
Leota
began to pitch and buck, but he patted the wheel, murmuring, “Come along, my lady, you can do it.”

“Where are the youngsters?” Tyler asked.

“Below on the lower deck. Pascal and Garland are with them. They’ll be all right.”

Tyler moved over and put his arms around Jolie. There was only a small green light inside the cabin, and Jean was peering intently into the darkness. A sudden pitch of the
Leota
threw them roughly to one side. Tyler fell with his back against the wall of the cabin, but he did not release her. He could feel the trembling in her body.

“So you love me. You came out and admitted it to that Nazi.”

“I always get more romantic under pressure.” Jolie put her head down on his chest and was grateful for the strength of his arms around her, for she wasn’t at all sure she could stand unaided. All the strength that had built up within her began to fall apart, and she simply clung to him.

Jean glanced back and then laughed. “Why don’t you two go on below. You’re distracting me up here!”

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Leota

Jolie was sitting on one of the built-in benches holding on as the boat pitched wildly. The young people were all sitting on the floor and appeared to be as calm as the situation would allow. Even Yolande was calm. She was holding Rochelle’s hand, and as the ship bounced around, though her eyes were big, she did not seem terribly disturbed.

Tyler was sitting with the children, one arm around Rochelle and the other around Antoine. Tyler was whispering something to Antoine that made the boy summon a ghost of a grin. Jolie could not imagine what it was, but she was glad that Tyler had noticed that the boy who had seemed so fearless on land was petrified by being in a storm at sea.

She tried to judge if the storm had lessened any, but it did not seem so. The three hands were evidently up in the wheelhouse with Jean, and none of them had come below for the past hour.

“I think it’s letting up just a bit,” Tyler called out. The electric light emitted a faint glow, casting stark shadows over the inhabitants of the belowdecks cabin, and she saw that Tyler looked relaxed. She envied him, for she was still tense over the scene at the wharf. She knew she would never forget the hopelessness that had seized her when the major caught them there.

“I can’t tell if it is,” she called back, raising her voice over the wind. “It seems bad to me.”

“Well, if this boat holds together, we’ll be on friendly soil soon,” Tyler said. “Just hang in there.”

A slight sound caught Jolie’s attention, and she looked down to see that Major Dietrich was moving his arm. Two of the deckhands had tied his arms and legs and moved him down to the lower deck after they were under way so Tyler and Jolie could keep an eye on him. Quickly she stooped beside him and checked his pulse. It was strong. His eyelids fluttered and then he opened them, staring up at her wildly. When he tried to get up, he discovered that his feet and his hands were tied. He slumped back onto the deck.

“You took a rough knock,” Jolie told him. “You’ll be fine, but right now you need to be still.”

For a moment Dietrich lay perfectly still; then he struggled again and this time managed to get into an upright seated position. He looked around at Tyler and the youngsters across the cabin sitting on the floor, and as the ship rolled, he could not catch himself because his hands were tied. Jolie caught him and said, “Here, back up against this bulkhead. It’ll be better if you don’t move around. You really should lie down.”

Dietrich’s face was pale, and his lips were drawn together in a tight line. Very rarely was he in a situation he did not control, but as he looked about him, some of the authority that was so obvious in him as a rule seemed to drain away. “This ship will never make it to England,” he whispered hoarsely. “Our naval vessels will catch you, you can be sure of that.”

“Oh, I think we’ll get to England,” Jolie said. “And you’ll be there in a prison camp until the war is over.”

“You have violated international law. You are noncombatants.”

Tyler laughed. “I’ll tell you what. Why don’t you sue us, Major Dietrich?” He was highly amused at the German’s preposterous attitude.

Dietrich glared at him but said no more.

As much as she detested what he stood for, Jolie felt that she was responsible for his health. She watched him carefully,
for he had taken a terrible blow to the back of the head. She came forward and looked at his eyes carefully, studying the pupils. “I think you’re all right, Major. Just try to be calm.”

Jolie went over then and joined the group on the floor. It was easier sitting there than trying to cling to the narrow bench while
Leota
was being tossed in several directions. She sat down and put her arm around Damien, and he leaned against her. “You’ll have a story to tell people when we get to England, won’t you, Damien?”

“Yes,” he agreed. His eyes were glowing, and he began to speak rapidly about the possibility of finally being adopted. Jolie let him go on, preferring his chatter over the oppressive silence. She looked over and saw that Rochelle was holding Antoine’s hand. The boy looked pale and sick, and from time to time Rochelle would whisper something to him.

She could not hear it, but it seemed to help the frightened boy, for he got some color in his face.

“We’re going to get there,” Rochelle told Antoine confidently.

“I-I’m scared.”

“So am I.”

Antoine swallowed hard. “I’ve never told anyone else that I was afraid.”

“It’s better to tell,” Rochelle assured him. “It’s not good to keep things like that to yourself.”

“We may die.”

“I guess so. It’s possible.”

Antoine looked over at Jolie. “She’s not afraid of dying, is she?”

“No, I wish I was like her. She risked everything to save us. She’s such a good person.”

“So are you, Rochelle, but I’m not.”

She shushed him. “Don’t be foolish. We’re going to be all right. Your grandmother was wrong.”

As the ship continued to toss, the major finally gave up trying to sit up and lay flat down on his back again.

Tyler got to his feet. “I’ll go up and find out how we’re doing.”

“Come back quick,” Yolande called out.

“I will, sweetheart.”

Tyler moved carefully along, balancing himself as the boat pitched. When he opened the door, the roar of the sea was loud, and then it was muted again when he shut it. Holding carefully to the walls, he climbed the ladder and found Jean and the other three members of the crew staring out into the darkness.

“How we doing?” Tyler shouted.

“All right. She’s holding together.”

Tyler watched for a few moments as Jean struggled with the wheel.

“Do you believe in God?” Jean asked Tyler.

“Yes.”

“Then you’d better pray, American.”

“I’ve been doing that already,” Tyler said. “What about you?”

“Yes, me too.”

Even as Jean spoke, Arnaud shouted, “Jean, look out!”

At first Tyler could not believe what he was seeing. The darkness was intense outside, but there before them rose an immense gray wall. For a split second he could not imagine what it was, and then he knew—a ship. “We’re running into a ship!”

Jean let out a cry and pounced on the wheel. Tyler stood there petrified, unable to move. There was nothing to do but watch. They were headed straight for it. He felt the churning of the engine and saw that the bow of
Leota
was making headway in turning, but the ship still loomed like a mountain. Tyler found himself holding his breath, and finally the wall of steel passed to the side of the fishing boat.

“It’s a destroyer!” Jean yelled.

“They’ll blow us out of the water!” one of the men cried. “We don’t have a chance!”

But the encounter was over almost before it had begun.
Leota
must have been at the stern of the vessel, or almost so, for suddenly the ship was gone and they were in darkness again.

“Did she see us, Jean?” Tyler asked. He felt his pulse racing and forced his panic down.

“I doubt it, but we’ll know soon enough. If they did, we don’t have to worry about navigating to England. She’ll just ram us.”

The four men held their breath and stared out of the glass. Tyler found, to his surprise, that he was thinking of those below instead of himself. The children were so vulnerable, and he could not bear the thought that Jolie might perish after all they’d been through. He found himself praying constantly,
God, take care of us!

“It’s all right now,” Jean yelled, and the men began to shout and dance around even though the boat was still lurching from side to side. “We’ve got to be pretty close to the line,” Jean said. Relief softened the lines of his face, and he was able to smile.

“What line?” Tyler demanded.

“Oh, it’s not a line you can see, but British ships patrol the Channel. The Germans are careful not to get too close. They know they’ll be sunk if they do. We may have even crossed it already.”

Tyler released his breath. “So you think we made it, then?”

“If she holds together, I think so. And if this storm doesn’t sink her, nothing will!”

“I’ll go down and tell the others,” Tyler said. “They’ll be glad to hear it.”

“What about the major? Has he come to yet?”

“Yeah. He’s going to sue us,” Tyler said with a grin. “Doesn’t that scare you a lot, Jean?”

The men all laughed, and Arnaud said, “I’d like to throw him overboard as shark food.”

“I’d rather keep him,” Tyler said. “He’ll be pretty valuable to some folks in England.”

He went down to the lower deck. As soon as he stepped inside, he shut the door and grinned. “Jean says we’re probably close enough to England that no German ship can get at us now.”

The youngsters all began to cheer.

“That’s wonderful,” Jolie exclaimed. “We’re going to be all right.”

Damien got to his feet and walked over to where Major Dietrich was lying flat on his back. He stared down at him, and the German struggled to sit up again.

“What do you want?” the major muttered. “Go away from here.”

“Why do you hate Jews?”

The cabin suddenly was quiet. The wind outside still blew, and the chugging of the engine was audible, but no one spoke or even moved.

Dietrich’s eyes opened wide and his lips moved as he tried to answer. Finally he shook his head. “I don’t hate Jews.” His voice was a mumble, and he cleared his throat and looked down.

“Yes you do,” Damien said. “If you didn’t, you would have let us go. You were going to do something bad to us. Why would you do that? We never did anything to you.”

Dietrich was silent, and it was Jolie who said, “I’d like to hear your answer, Major. I think we all would.”

The man struggled with his bonds, but he was well tied. He glared at Jolie and then at Tyler before sitting back against the bulkhead and closing his eyes.

“I don’t think you need to worry about your profession anymore, Dietrich,” Tyler said. “You’ll sit in a prison camp until the war is over. When you get out, Germany will be smashed. The Third Reich and all you believe in will be dead.”

Dietrich began to scream in German.

When he finally stopped, Rochelle said, “You are a bad man, and God will be your judge.”

Little Yolande walked over to stand beside Damien. Looking Dietrich in the eye, she asked, “Why don’t you be a good man?”

As they waited for an answer, everyone noticed that the boat was not rocking so violently. Arnaud Heuse burst through the door. “We’re almost there,” he declared. “Come up and see England.”

Instantly everyone rushed to the door. Tyler and Jolie let the children go first, and then they followed them up.

“You see,” Rochelle told Antoine as they went up, “I told you we would be all right.”

“You were right,” he muttered. He turned to her and then found a smile. “I will never be afraid of water again.”

Before the small boat was able to get too close to land, a naval cutter came out and challenged them. An officer came aboard, and Tyler answered all the man’s queries in English. The officer listened without saying much as Tyler explained the whole story.

“You have a German major as a prisoner?” he asked, incredulous.

“Yes we do. He’s tied up down below.”

“That will be good news.” He turned to Jean and said, “Take her in, Captain. You’ll get a warm welcome, I assure you.”

The man returned to his own vessel and Jean navigated the fishing boat slowly toward the dock.

“Are you going to leave us now, Jolie?” Damien asked.

“Not until I find you a good home.”

“Do you promise?” Yolande asked solemnly.

“I promise.”

Tyler scooped Yolande up and gave her a kiss. She tasted salty, for they had all been sprayed with sea water. She held
him tightly, and he could feel her trembling. “We’ll be eating a good English breakfast in no time,” he told her.

When she did not answer, he whispered, “Are you all right, Yolande?”

“I don’t want to lose my friends and you and Jolie.”

Tyler pulled her closer. “We’ll just have to ask God to take care of that.”