—”
Someone was knocking on the door. Johanna’s heart skipped a beat. “Who is it?”
“It’s me.”
“Cecile?”
“May I come in?”
“Just a minute!” Johanna shoved the kerchief under her pillow and opened the door.
“What took so long?” Cecile asked. She gazed at the candles flickering in the dimness. “Those candlesticks are beautiful. Where did you get them?”
“I … I borrowed them from … Frau Hartmann.”
“You did? Why?”
“I … I misplaced mine.”
“I see.” Cecile looked puzzled.
“Did you want something?”
Cecile looked about the room. She seemed to have forgotten why she’d come. “Oh, can I borrow a needle and thread?”
“Of course.” Johanna rummaged in the top drawer of her dresser. “Here,” she said, handing the notions to Cecile.
“Thank you. Have a good night.”
“You too.” Johanna’s heart was pounding and her fingers trembled. Has Cecile guessed my secret? Some non-Jews know about Sabbath candles. Will she tell Frau Taubman before I escape? I’ll have to leave the orphanage. I won’t be able to rescue Rebecca. And if I don’t, she will surely die.
— Chapter Six —
An Unexpected Companion
On Sunday, Johanna wore her shawl to the nursery. When no one was looking, she stuffed clothes and diapers into the shawl. Later that night, she stole bread and cheese from the kitchen, as well as a small jug of milk for Rebecca.
Her hands shook; her legs trembled. She had an uneasy feeling that she was being followed on the way back to her room. She kept looking behind her, imagining that someone was standing in the shadows, watching her.
Early Monday morning, Johanna put a few last items into her bag and fastened it tightly. She wrapped her cloak around her shoulders, tied her hat on her head, and put on her shoes.
Johanna took one last look around her little room. I came here with such hope. Now all I feel is sadness about the past and worry for the future. She sighed, straightened her back, and closed the door softly behind her.
She walked down the steep narrow stairs and along a corridor. Weak sunlight sifted in through the windows. She heard the clatter of pots and pans in the kitchen and smelled freshly baked bread and porridge simmering on the stove. She heard Frau Hartmann humming an old country tune.
For a moment, she wished she could join the other girls and forget her plan. One step into the kitchen, and she would be safe. One step away led to an unknown future. She felt paralyzed with uncertainty.
Then she remembered the babies who had died, their stiff grey corpses wrapped in coarse linen, carted away to unmarked graves. She shuddered and began to walk towards the nursery.
“Johanna,” someone whispered.
“Who is it?” Johanna asked, her heart pounding. She turned towards the voice. A dark shape was standing in the shadow of a doorway.
“It’s me.”
“Who?”
“Me! Cecile.” She wore her cloak and hat, and clutched a bag in her hands.
“What are you doing here?” Johanna asked.
“I know what you’re planning.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You’ve been planning to run away for days now. I saw you,” Cecile said. “I saw you take some food from the kitchen. And you were asking about Altona —”
Johanna shook her head. “I have to go. We’ll talk about it tomorrow.”
Cecile took a step towards Johanna. “Not likely. You’ll be gone by tomorrow.”
“But —”
“You’re running away.” Cecile took another step towards her and grabbed her arm. “And I want to go with you.”
Johanna shrugged off Cecile’s hand. “So, I’m leaving,” she said. “That doesn’t mean you can come with me.” More gently, she added, “Besides, we can’t both leave at the same time!”
Cecile pursed her lips as she peered along the corridor. “I don’t care. All I know is that I must leave this horrid place. And I must leave today!”
“Cecile, you don’t understand,” said Johanna. She turned to face Cecile and put her hands on her friend’s shoulders. “I’m not going alone. I’m taking one of my babies with me.”
“Are you crazy?”
“I can’t … I won’t watch another baby die.”
“Do you know what will happen if they catch you? They’ll throw you in jail! Or worse!” Cecile paused. “Which one?”
“Which what?”
“Which baby? I’m not talking about apples!”
Johanna pushed past Cecile. Time was growing short. She was afraid Daniel would leave without her. “I have to go!”
“Please, Johanna!” Cecile cried after her. “Please let me come with you!” Johanna looked back at Cecile. “You’re willing to give up this job?”
“I don’t care,” Cecile said. “I haven’t heard from my family for weeks. I’m afraid to go alone. I won’t be in your way and … maybe I can help.”
What if I don’t let her come? Johanna thought. Will she betray me? “All right. You may come with me as far as Altona.”
“Great!” She grabbed Johanna by the arm. “Let’s go!”
“Be quiet! They’ll hear you.”
“Sorry.”
“Meet me outside, behind the hedge near the road,” said Johanna. “I’ll go get Rebecca.”
“Wait,” Cecile said. “Give me your bag. You’ll have to carry the baby.” She grinned. “See? I’m already a help!”
In the nursery, one girl was dozing in a chair; two others were playing a game of checkers, out of sight of the babies. The babies were sleeping, or lying listlessly in their beds.
Johanna tiptoed over to Rebecca’s bed. Rebecca was deep in dreams, her tiny mouth twitching slightly. Johanna picked her up. She felt her warmth against her chest. Just then, one of the
