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Johanna’s Plan

Daniel, the wagon driver, had come to the orphanage to make his regular deliveries of fruits and vegetables. “You want to do what?” he asked.

“Shhhh!” whispered Johanna. “I want to leave this place.” She knew she could trust Daniel, because he’d delivered money and letters to Mama.

“Why do you want to do such a foolish thing?” said Daniel. “You’ve got a good job here. A place to sleep. Regular meals. Steady pay.”

Johanna shook her head. “Daniel, the babies are dying. Six babies have died already.”

Daniel took off his cap and scratched his matted hair. “I know. Ain’t I the one who delivers the coffins here?”

“Three more babies are very weak. I think they’re going to die soon.” She swallowed hard and tugged on the sleeve of his jacket. “I want to run away and —”

“Run away? Why not just quit the job and leave?”

Johanna lowered her voice. “I want to take one of the babies with me.”

“You must be crazy!” Daniel shouted.

“Please be quiet!”

Daniel peered at Johanna. “Where to?”

Johanna looked over her shoulder. “First to Altona. It’s safer there. Then I’ll look for a ship to take me to Amsterdam.” She paused. “Will you help me?”

“Can’t. Won’t. I’d get in trouble for sure. They’d lock me up for aiding and abetting a kidnapper!” Daniel blew his nose onto the ground and wiped the snot with his sleeve.

Johanna handed Daniel her handkerchief. He took it as if he didn’t know what to do with it. He crumpled it up and shoved it into his pocket.

“Please, Daniel.”

Daniel shook his head. “I won’t do it. I feel sorry for the babies, but I ain’t gonna take that kind of risk.” He grasped the reins and began to move away.

“Wait!” Johanna cried. “I’ll pay you!”

Daniel stopped and stared at Johanna.

“I’ll pay you for taking us — me and the baby.”

Daniel scratched his head. “Well, if you’re talking business, that’s something else. How much?”

“Twelve schillings?”

“Twenty-four.”

Johanna swallowed hard. “Eighteen. That’s my final offer.”

“Well, I guess that’d be enough.”

“You’ll take us, then?”

Daniel nodded. “Only as far as Altona. My horse is old and I got my regular customers.”

Johanna let out her breath. She hadn’t even realized she’d been holding it. “Thank you.”

Daniel stretched out a dirty hand towards Johanna. “Let’s see your money.”

Johanna shook her head. “I’ll pay you nine schillings when you pick me up and nine when we reach Altona. Agreed?”

Daniel scratched his armpit. “You drive a hard bargain. All right then.” He shook his head and murmured, “I must be as crazy as she is.”

“When will you be back here again?” Johanna said.

“Let’s see.” Daniel counted on his fingers. “Today’s Thursday. It’ll be Monday next.”

“Johanna! Where are you?” Cecile called from the doorway.

Johanna waved at her friend. “Coming!” She turned back to Daniel. “When you finish your deliveries on Monday, wait for me outside the gate behind the high hedge. I’ll meet you after breakfast.”

“What if someone asks what I’m doing there?”

“Johanna!” Cecile was walking towards them. “I’ve been looking all over for you.”

Johanna moved closer to Daniel. She could smell his sour, unwashed body and the dirty wool of his clothing. “Say you were taking a nap, or reading a book, or feeding your horse. Whatever you want.”

“Right. But if you ain’t here by seven o’clock, I’ll be gone.”

“I’ll be here.”

Daniel nodded, took up the reins, and guided the wagon down the gravel driveway. Johanna watched him leave and wished she were already on the way.

She hurried to join Cecile. She could feel her heart beating against her chest. What am I doing? I’ll get caught. I’ll be convicted of kidnapping. Locked up in jail or thrown out of Hamburg. No help for Rebecca. No help for Mama.

“Why were you talking to the driver?” asked Cecile.

“I needed to ask him something.”

“What?”

“About … about Altona.”

“Altona? You could ask me about Altona!”

“All right,” said Johanna. “What’s it like?”

“It’s a small town,” Cecile said. “You can almost spit from Hamburg to Altona. After all, they’re only about two and a half miles apart.”

“I know that. But what is Altona like?”

Cecile linked her arm into Johanna’s. The two made their way to the kitchen for breakfast. “It’s a lot like Hamburg. On the main street, there are shops and houses and people coming and going. There’s ice in the winter and mud the rest of the time and stink all the time.”

While they were eating, Johanna tried to find out more about Altona. “If a person were in Altona,” Johanna asked, “how would he get to Amsterdam?”

Cecile answered between chews. “By wagon or coach, I suppose. Or, if you had money, you could travel by ship.”

“Is there any other way to get there?”

“Sure. You could fly like a bird!”

“Very funny! As if people can fly!”

“Why are you asking all those questions?” Monica demanded.

“I just wanted to know. One day, I’d like to go to Amsterdam,” Johanna said.

“What would you do there?” Monica said.

“I could sell my lace work,” Johanna said. “Or even become a governess.”

“You?” Monica snorted. “An upper-class family would never hire you.”

“I’ve heard that Amsterdam is a beautiful city,” Cecile said, putting a hand on Johanna’s arm.

“There’s only one problem,” Monica said.

“What?” said Johanna.

Monica sneered. “They let Jews become citizens.”

The next evening was Friday. Johanna sat alone in her room. She fingered Mama’s lace kerchief. Since she had come to the orphanage, she hadn’t dared light Sabbath candles. But tonight she felt lonely. She yearned for the glow of the candles.

She put two candles in candlesticks on the table, placed the kerchief on her head, lit the candles, and began to recite the blessing. “Baruch atah adonei eloheynu —”

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.