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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 girls said, “Johanna, where are you taking that baby?”

Johanna froze in her tracks. She felt her heart racing and could scarcely speak. “Keller … Doctor Keller asked me to bring her to him.”

“Oh? I didn’t know he was here.”

“He … came by hired carriage.” Rebecca was reaching towards Johanna’s face and playing with her hair. “I must go. The doctor doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”

“All right, but —”

“Lise,” the other girl whispered, “It’s your turn.” Lise shrugged and turned back to the game.

Johanna wrapped her cloak around Rebecca, hurried out of the room, and closed the door behind her. Her heart pounding, she whispered the words of a psalm she remembered from home:

The help of the innocent comes

from the Lord.

Their strength is He in time of need.

The Lord helps them and rescues them.

He rescues them from the wicked

and saves them,

Because they trust in Him.

The words carried her along the corridor, through the grand foyer, and out the front door.

What have I done? Johanna thought. How will I travel on the dangerous road to Amsterdam with a nine-month-old baby? Her fear was almost more than she could bear. She stood frozen on the front step.

A man came hurrying up the path. When he reached Johanna, he stopped and said, “Why, it is Fraulein … Richter, is it not?”

“Yes,” mumbled Johanna, curtseying. “We met at my interview.”

“Quite right,” said Herr Vogel. He looked down at the squirming bundle in Johanna’s arms. “Where, may I ask, are you going with that baby?”

“I … I’m taking her outside for some fresh air.”

“I see.” Herr Vogel paused. “Nowhere else?”

“No,” said Johanna, blushing. “Where else would I take her?” Another lie, she thought. I am getting quite skillful at that particular sin.

Herr Vogel peered over Johanna’s shoulder. “If I were taking care of these babies …” He pursed his lips. “… these dying babies who are subject to an experiment …”

“Yes?” said Johanna. “What would you do?”

Herr Vogel averted his eyes. “I might want to rescue one of the babies.”

“You would?” Johanna’s heart skipped a beat. Does Herr Vogel suspect what I am doing? Will he betray me?

“I am not saying I would.” Herr Vogel raised his eyebrows. “Only that I might want to.” He lowered his eyebrows. “But of course, the risks would be great; the punishment, severe. Still …”

“Still?”

“A human life.” Herr Vogel put his hand on Johanna’s arm. “Worth the risk, I believe.” He looked straight at Johanna, as if he could read her mind. “And if I were to take that risk, I would leave as quickly as possible.” He sighed and took out his pocket watch. “I must go now. I have an appointment with a certain Frau Taubman.” As he turned to go, he said. “Fraulein Richter?”

“Yes?” Johanna’s knees were shaking.

“Godspeed.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Johanna looked down into Rebecca’s trusting eyes. The baby smiled up at her.

“I’ll do it,” whispered Johanna. “It is a matter of life and death. Your life, and mine, too, if it is to have any meaning.”

Johanna looked up and saw Cecile peeking out from behind the hedge. Johanna straightened her back and strode towards her waiting companion.

The sun was shining in a sky of watery blue. A brisk wind whipped her cloak about and tried to lift her long skirt. It dried the tears in her eyes — tears she hadn’t been aware of.

“What happened?” said Cecile. “I thought you would never come!”

“I’ll tell you later. Let’s find Daniel.”

They heard Daniel before they saw him. Snores rumbled from his throat. His cap was pulled over his eyes and his whiskered chin was resting on his chest. The reins lay slack in his hands. An empty jug of beer lay next to him on the wagon seat.

“Wait here,” Johanna whispered. “I’ll talk to Daniel.” She walked over to Daniel and shook his arm. “Wake up!” The snoring only grew louder. She shook his arm again. “Daniel, wake up!” But no matter how hard Johanna shook him, he wouldn’t respond.

She gestured for Cecile to join her. “We have a little problem.”

Cecile’s eyes opened wide. “What’s the matter?”

“Our driver is … slightly inebriated.”

“You mean drunk?”

“Right.” Johanna frowned. “He must have been drinking all night long.”

“What do we do now?”

“You don’t happen to know how to drive a wagon, do you?” said Johanna.

Cecile grinned. “As a matter of fact, I do.”

“Wait. Don’t tell me,” said Johanna, holding up her hand. “Your brother showed you how.”

Cecile shrugged. “He taught me almost everything I know.”

They’d gone only a short distance when Daniel woke up. “What’s going on here?” he said. He snatched the reins from Cecile and pulled hard to stop the wagon. “Who are you? What’re you doing driving my wagon?”

“Uh, Daniel,” said Johanna. “There’s been a little … change of plans.”

“I asked you and you’d better answer quick. Who is she?” Daniel reached for the jug. “If you’re trying to get me into trouble …”

“She’s Cecile. My … my friend. She’s coming, too.”

“And who says I’ll take her?”

“Please, Daniel,” Johanna said.

Daniel looked sideways at the two girls. “What’s in it for me? Ain’t I taking enough risks already?” He brought the jug to his lips. “Agh! Empty!” He plunked the jug down on the floor under the seat.

Johanna looked hard at Cecile and said, “She’ll pay you, too. Right, Cecile?”

“Of course I’ll pay,” Cecile said. She looked at Johanna. “How much?”

“You should be asking me, not her!” Daniel said, pointing to his chest.

“Sorry. How much, sir?” Cecile said.

“That’s more like it.” He paused. “Tell you what. I’ll make you 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.