Long Way Home(59)

“No!” I cried out. “Please, no!” I was sitting beside Mutti and I clutched her arm, unwilling to be separated from her.

“You’re already in a very safe place, Gisela, working and hiding among the Christians.”

“But I don’t want to be separated from any of you! We can all go to the work camps together.”

“No, Sam is right,” Vati said. “It’s much better that we’re apart for a little while than that we end up in a camp like Buchenwald.”

Saying goodbye felt like tearing off both of my arms. But it had to be done quickly so Sam could take me back to my residence and return home before the curfew. I clung to him in despair in our private place behind the hospital, but he gently pried away my arms. “We don’t have to say goodbye just yet. I won’t go into hiding until I’ve found places for all of the others. I’ll come back to you in the meantime so you’ll know what’s happening.”

“Please don’t put yourself in danger, Sam!”

“We already are in danger. All of us. Give me your identity card, Gisela, so I can have it altered or a fake one made. As long as you don’t leave the nurses’ residence or the hospital grounds, you won’t be asked to show it.” I marveled at this strong, brave man who was working so hard to save all of us.

Three weeks later, in mid-August, I returned from my nursing shift to find Sam waiting for me in the residence lounge. In spite of the summer heat, he was wearing an ill-fitting suit and tie—and no yellow star. He had shaved his beard, and if he hadn’t spoken my name, I wouldn’t have recognized him. My heart raced as we moved to a corner of the lounge away from the door to talk. “I don’t have much time,” he said, “but I need your help.” My hands were trembling, and he took them in his.

“Nazi officers and the local police raided our neighborhood last night. They cordoned off several streets, dragged people from their homes, and loaded them onto military trucks. Thousands of us, Gisela. Not just men, but women and children, too.”

“Not our families! Please, Sam—tell me that our families are safe!”

“They are for now. But we don’t know when or where the next raid will be. I’ve been working with a Christian man in the Resistance named Lukas Wouters. He owns a hotel in central Antwerp called the Hotel Centraal. He arranged hiding places for my brothers on farms outside of Antwerp, and my mother is going to live with him and his wife, posing as their maid. Remember that name, Gisela—Hotel Centraal.”

“Yes, yes. And my family?” I couldn’t breathe, praying they were safe, too.

Sam gripped my hands tightly and said, “I need you to be strong, Gisela, and to listen to me. Promise?”

“Just tell me,” I whispered.

“Your father is dying. He knows it and your mother knows it. He is too weak and too ill to be moved, but he accepts this as the will of God.”

My tears spilled over and rolled down my cheeks. “No. Why would God will such a thing?”

“Your parents have decided to stay in the apartment until the end. I couldn’t convince them to change their minds. Your father said that as long as his two girls are safe, nothing else matters.”

“But . . . but . . . maybe I can get him admitted to this hospital or . . . or—”

“He’ll never agree because it would put you in danger. But listen, please. Ruthie doesn’t want to leave your parents. That’s why I need your help.”

“I-I have a roommate, but maybe if I explain to her what’s happening, she’ll let Ruthie hide here and—”

“That’s too dangerous. The Flemish National Union is pro-Nazi and they have many supporters here in Antwerp. It would only take one informant to go to the authorities and you and Ruthie would both be arrested.” He paused and scanned the lounge as if worried he might be overheard. “I’ve also learned that some Catholic organizations are secretly hiding Jewish children in their orphanages. Do you trust the people at your school? Can you talk with someone and ask if they’ll arrange a place for your sister?”

“I trust Sister Veronica, the headmistress of my school. I’ll speak with her.”

“Good. The only way Ruthie will agree to leave your parents is if she thinks she’s staying with you.”

“I don’t want to lie to her, Sam. She’ll hate me for it.”

“Right now, it’s the only way.” He released my hands and reached into the inner pocket of his suit jacket. “Here’s your new identity card. Your name is now Ella Maes, and you’re a Belgian citizen. You were raised in Switzerland before the war, which explains your accent. Do you think the headmistress will help you change to this new identity?”

“I’ll ask her. I’ll go right away.”

“Ask her to hurry. We don’t know if our street and our apartment building will be next. I have to go,” he said. “I’ll come back tomorrow for your answer, and if they’ll help us, we’ll have to get Ruthie out of the Jewish neighborhood as quickly as possible.”

“Sam, wait! Don’t you need a place to hide? I could ask her to help you, too.”

“I have a place.” I could tell that he wanted to embrace me, and I longed to hold him, too, but the lounge was busy with nurses changing shifts. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said.