a deal. Only ten schillings for you.” He glanced at Johanna. “Less risk. Pay five now, five when we get to Altona.” Cecile counted the schillings into Daniel’s hand. He turned towards Johanna. “Now you.”
Johanna put nine schillings into Daniel’s hand. She smelled onions, garlic, and some other unidentifiable odour. He stuffed the coins in his pocket.
“Now let’s get out of here,” Daniel said.
— Chapter Seven —
Plague
Daniel guided the wagon to the Hafenstrasse, which ran west along the waterfront towards Altona. The sounds of a new day filled Johanna’s ears: the grinding of wagon wheels and the clip-clop of the horse’s hooves, the screaming of gulls and the chiming of the town clock.
The girls sat huddled together on a blanket in the back of the wagon. They bumped against the sides of the wagon and against each other until they soon felt bruised and irritable.
Rebecca woke up and began crying. Johanna gave her a piece of bread, but the baby pushed it away. She squirmed and whined in Johanna’s arms. She felt heavier and heavier as they proceeded on the road.
Daniel was muttering to himself, occasionally glancing back at the girls. After some time had passed, he stopped the wagon in front of an inn. The wooden walls were rotting; the roof was missing shingles. The sound of laughter and shouting wafted out of the open windows and into the street.
“Wait here,” Daniel said. “I’m going in to wet my throat a bit.”
“Please don’t stop,” said Johanna. “We need to get as far away from the orphanage as we can.”
“I’m the driver,” Daniel said. “You’ll do as I say.” He smiled, showing several gaps in his teeth. “Unless you want to walk.” He got down from the wagon, tied the reins to a post near the horse trough, and staggered into the inn.
Johanna sighed and opened her bag. “I wanted to leave right away, so I didn’t eat anything today. This seems as good a time as any.” She put Rebecca down on a blanket and handed her a piece of cheese. Rebecca grabbed it and clutched it in her fist.
“Here,” Johanna said, handing Cecile a piece of bread and cheese.
“Thank you,” said Cecile. “I’m starving!” She looked back down the road towards Hamburg. “Johanna, do you think we’re being followed?”
Johanna shrugged. “I can’t be sure. All I know is I’m doing what I have to do.”
“I wish I could have taken one of my babies, too.”
“If you want to leave, then leave,” Johanna snapped. “Go into the inn, and ask someone to take you back. Or go wherever you want to go.” All the tension and sleepless nights had caught up with Johanna. She felt tired to her very bones. More gently, she added, “I won’t blame you.”
“I’m not leaving,” Cecile said, jutting out her chin. “I’m going to Altona with you.”
Johanna squeezed Cecile’s arm. “I was hoping you’d say that. And Cecile?”
“What?”
“I’m sorry I was rude just now. I’m wound up like a spring.”
“It’s all right,” Cecile said. “A few words aren’t going to spoil our friendship.”
Johanna smiled wanly. “I hope not.”
“That’s better,” Daniel said, coming out of the inn and wiping his mouth with his sleeve. He untied the reins, climbed back onto the wagon, and snapped the horse’s reins.
Approaching Altona, they passed a wagon leaving the town. The wagon driver had a cloth pulled tightly around his nose and mouth. He pointed behind him, in the direction of Altona.
“If you know what’s good for you, don’t go there,” he said.
“What’s that?” said Daniel.
The man shuddered. “Plague!”
Daniel pulled hard on the reins, as if the wagon were about to fall off a cliff. Cecile covered her face with a corner of her cloak. Johanna pulled Rebecca closer to her chest. Johanna looked behind her as the other wagon moved away. Corpses two and three deep were piled haphazardly on it. The bodies shook with every jolt of the wagon.
Everyone knew about the plagues that had spread throughout Europe over the years. Johanna didn’t know all the names of the plague the physicians used. All she knew was that plague was usually fatal.
If one person in a family caught the plague, the entire family would be locked inside their house. Watchmen would check the house from time to time to make sure no one tried to leave. The family would all be dead within the space of a week. Then the gravediggers would come to pile their carts with the sad cargoes and bring them to the cemeteries.
Rich or poor, good or bad — the plague didn’t discriminate. It killed almost everyone it found, wiping out entire families and communities.
When the cemeteries were full, when the mounds of earth created unnatural hills two or three feet high, the dead would be carted to the country to be buried in huge open pits. There was no time for a decent burial; no time for the bereaved to mourn. It was often their turn to die next.
“I’m not going any closer!” said Daniel.
“I must see if my family has been spared,” Cecile said.
“Forget it,” said Daniel, shaking his head. “I’m not going into a plague-infested town.” He held the reins tightly. “I kept my part of the bargain. Don’t say I didn’t. But I’m not going there!”
“Please!” Cecile said.
“I can’t and I won’t,” said Daniel. “I’ve lost enough of my own family to the plague.” He gestured with his thumb. “Now get off!”
Should I go with Cecile? Johanna thought. How much do I dare risk? My life, and Rebecca’s as well? She squared her shoulders, took a deep breath, and looked into Cecile’s eyes. She’s my friend. I must help her.
“Come, Cecile. I’ll go with you,” Johanna said. “But first we must pay Daniel.”
Daniel held out his dirty hand. The girls reached into their meagre purses and paid him the schillings they owed him.
The girls got down from the wagon. Cecile clutched their bags and Johanna held tightly to the baby. Johanna now understood what people meant when they talked about a heavy heart. Hers felt like lead. Her thoughts whirled about her head as they began to walk away. But then she had an idea.
“Daniel!” she shouted, hurrying after the wagon. “Wait!”
Daniel pulled the reins up sharply. “What now?”
“Will you do something for us?”
