Long Way Home(60)

I went straight to Sister Veronica’s office after Sam left and asked to see her. “She isn’t here at the moment,” Sister Mary Margaret said. “But if you’d like to wait, she should be back shortly.” I sat in the chair she offered me, anxiously drumming my fingers on the armrest and trying to remain calm. And strong. Sam had hit me with so much devasting news that I hadn’t had time to absorb it all. Vati was dying. I would probably never see him and Mutti again. That alone was enough to drop me to my knees in grief. But I had promised Sam I would be strong. Ruthie and I had to hide. We had to become different people.

“Hello, Gisela. You wanted to see me?”

I jumped to my feet at the sound of Sister Veronica’s voice. I had been so deep in thought that I hadn’t heard her coming. “I need your help!” I blurted. She smiled her gentle smile and gestured for me to follow her into her office. As soon as she closed the door, I quickly explained everything Sam had told me. When I told her that my father was dying, I could no longer hold back my tears. She drew me into her arms, surprising me, and held me tightly.

“Of course we’ll help you and your sister,” she murmured as she allowed me to cry. It took several minutes for me to stop sobbing and pull myself together.

“I’m sorry . . . I’m sorry,” I said, blowing my nose.

“You have no reason to be sorry. Now, how old is your sister?”

“Ruthie is fourteen, but she’s small for her age and looks much younger.”

“And I imagine you would like to stay as close to each other as possible?”

“Yes. My boyfriend said you sometimes hide Jewish children in your orphanages, and I would be willing to work as a nurse in a hospital nearby, and—”

“That’s precisely what I was thinking. I’ll start making the arrangements to get both of you out of Antwerp straightaway. Bring your sister here as soon as you can, and we’ll take her to the convent. I don’t think she should be seen with you in your room. I’m sorry to say that no one knows who they can trust during these trying times. Use the rear entrance where deliveries are made so you won’t draw too much attention. Sister Mary Margaret can direct you there.”

Sam arrived early the next morning and I told him the plan. I told him how to find the convent, and we arranged to meet by the service entrance.

“Sam, please tell Vati and Mutti I love them and I—” Tears choked my throat. I couldn’t finish.

“They know, Gisela. All that matters to them is that you and Ruthie are safe. You’re giving them peace of mind in an unbearable situation.”

He left to fetch Ruthie, returning with her on his bicycle. She was wearing three dresses and a pair of trousers, layered on top of each other because Sam feared they’d be stopped if she carried a suitcase. My sister looked numb and pale. The dark circles beneath her eyes looked like bruises. She clung to me for several moments without saying a word. I was afraid we would both fall apart if I asked her about Vati. Then we all went inside, where Sister Veronica was waiting.

“Arrangements are well underway,” she told us. “We’ll need another day or so to print a nursing certificate with your new name, Gisela, but we’ve already secured a position for you at another hospital. You’ll have time to pack your things and tell your friends that you’ve accepted a new job. We’re also working on a birth certificate and the other necessary paperwork to show that Ruthie is an orphan. There’s a room here in the convent where you can sleep in the meantime, Ruthie.” My sister nodded and wrapped her thin arms around herself.

“If there’s anything else we can do to help you,” Sister Veronica told Sam, “I hope you won’t hesitate to ask.”

“I don’t have words to tell you how deeply grateful I am,” Sam replied. “I don’t know anything about the Christian faith, but the Christians I’ve met have been unfailingly kind to us in our time of crisis, taking great risks to hide us, giving us money and food, even when both have been scarce.”

“It’s what our Savior taught us to do,” the nun said with a smile. “You can come to me anytime. I’ll know where Gisela is—or should I say Ella—and you can contact her through me whenever you need to.” Sam seemed unable to reply. I knew he needed to leave soon.

“I’ll be right back,” I told Ruthie. I took Sam’s hand and we stepped outside to say goodbye. As my tears fell, I prayed that I wasn’t kissing him for the last time.

Later, I said goodbye to my roommate. She didn’t seem surprised to hear that I was leaving so suddenly. “I know the secret you’re keeping, Gisela,” she told me, “and I’ll be praying for you and your people.” She pulled out the envelope of photographs her father had taken on graduation day and said, “Here, take one of these pictures so you’ll always remember us.”

“May I have a copy of this one, too? To give to my boyfriend?” It was the photo her father had snapped when he’d caught me laughing. I couldn’t imagine ever laughing that way again.

“Of course! I’m just sorry I never got to meet your mystery man.”

Two days later, Ruthie and I boarded a train to our new home in a town south of Antwerp. Sister Veronica advised me to wear my nurse’s uniform as we traveled as if I was escorting a sick child. Ruthie did indeed look ill. I hoped she hadn’t contracted tuberculosis from our father. She was told to memorize her new name, Ruth Anne Mertens. Sister Mary Margaret also came with us, presumably to make introductions and help us get settled in our new hiding places. But she opened her satchel when we were alone in the train compartment and explained another reason why she had come.