Valence
July 26, 1942
Vipond woke Jacob and Moses very early. He had slept little, waking with a start at every little noise, afraid the police had come to take the children away. He felt it was his sacred duty to protect them. He owed it to Jana and Eleazar.
Jacob woke up right away, but they had to drag Moses out of bed. He was so tired, and the soft mattress had managed to relax him completely. Both boys’ ears were still ringing with the sound of their mother’s words in the letter. Right then, their parents were crossing the ocean on their way to Argentina, some place so far away the children could hardly believe it was real.
“Boys, you’ve got to get dressed and eat breakfast quickly. I’ll be surprised if the police don’t come back around,” Vipond said to speed them up. He had already set out orange juice, milk, and some pastries—all luxuries in those days.
Jacob and Moses slipped into their clean, ironed clothes, and they looked like normal boys again, no longer like little fugitives. They sat down and devoured the very last crumbs of the bread, jam, and pastries that Vipond placed before them.
Their host enjoyed watching them eat. He was quite lonely. After Jana and Eleazar had gone, the few strands that kept him tied to life seemed broken forever. He had no idea how much longer he had left to live, and he did not care. He had already enjoyed all the beautiful things existence could offer and was just waiting to die.
“We’ve come up with a plan to keep you safe until things calm down. I don’t think they’ll go to too much trouble to hunt down two children, but as long as they’re receiving orders from the prefect, they’ll surely come back to bother us.”
Jacob and Moses looked up attentively.
Vipond continued, “There’s a room in the theater that doesn’t get much use. It was designed as short-term quarters for actors or artists who would be staying in the city, though it’s rarely been used for that purpose either. A mother and her daughter are living there now, but they’ll be moving in a few days. Don’t worry, there’s more than enough space, and they are fine people.” He took their plates into the kitchen and returned with a map.
Intrigued, Jacob and Moses pored over the names of towns and cities, mountains and rivers so neatly labeled.
“We’re here in Valence.” The old man pointed. “In a few days, you could be in Marseille, the port city where boats travel to Spain and other parts of the world. Mr. Perrot and I will see to all your expenses and your papers.”
Jacob smiled. He never imagined that complete strangers would do so much for them. He grasped the risk they were taking. Even though they were in the unoccupied zone, either of them could end up in a detention camp of the Vichy government and lose their jobs and their property. “Thank you so much for helping us,” Jacob said. He could tell Vipond had cared about his parents in a special way.
“Life is about giving your soul for the outcasts of the land, those the world rejects and denies even the right to live.” The man’s words heartened the boys. It was so easy to get dragged along by the tides of history, to justify indifference with prudence, cowardice with sanity. Finding someone who was truly brave filled Jacob and Moses with a peaceful sort of awe.
The doorbell rang, and they all three jumped. Vipond went to the door and was relieved to see Perrot through the peephole.
Jacob understood it was time for them to go. “Thank you again for everything,” he said.
Vipond ruffled their hair and a momentary joy flashed through his eyes. “Your mother gave me the love I had lost. Other than Mr. Perrot, no one remembers or cares about this old man anymore. But Jana has a way of seeing deep inside people. I owe it to her to carry on, and now her boys give me the strength to put one foot in front of the other.”
Perrot urged them to get moving. It was not wise to stand talking on the landing. They slowly descended the stairs and crossed the crowded street. No one paid them much attention. They seemed like a grandfather taking his grandkids out for a walk. They entered the theater through the side door and saw the usher. The uniformed man stood up straighter when he saw the director.
“Close the door, Alexandre.”
Perrot led them up a somewhat concealed spiral staircase to the left, behind the stage. It put them out into a curious room that seemed suspended in the air. It was wide but had no bathroom. They would have to use the facilities in the dressing rooms.
There two people sat on a quilt draped over the wide, cushion-covered bed. One was a woman in her forties with dark hair, a thin, curved nose, and big brown eyes. Beside her was a girl of some twelve years. Her hair was so blond it almost seemed white, and the intensity of her emerald green eyes made it hard to look away.
“Mrs. Emdem, allow me to introduce Jacob and Moses Stein,” Perrot said, taking off his hat.
“How do you do, gentlemen? This is my daughter Anna. Anna, introduce yourself,” the woman said, lightly touching the girl’s shoulder.
Anna looked up timidly. They had been on the run and in hiding for a very long time. Interactions with strangers were few and far between, and even less so with children of her own age. “Hello,” she managed.
Jacob stood staring with a smile glued to his face. He finally reacted after Moses elbowed him in the back. “Hi, Anna.”
“I’d better leave you. Mrs. Emdem, you’ll be able to move along in a few days. You can lead a more normal life in the village. Here, danger lurks at every corner.”
“We’re so grateful for your help, Mr. Perrot.”
“Oh, speak nothing of it. In a few hours, we’ll send up some lunch. We’ve got rehearsal this afternoon, so I must ask you to be as quiet as possible. There are some books in French, German, and Spanish on that shelf, boys, and some toys in the chest. Plus, you can look out the skylight. Boys need time in the sunshine!”
Perrot made his leave, and Jacob and Moses spent a few very awkward moments unsure of what to do or say. Finally, Moses walked over to the toy chest and started pulling things out. Jacob joined him. On the one hand, he wanted to play; on the other, it seemed childish to him. He did not want Anna to think he was a little kid. His scruples vanished, however, when the girl approached and sat beside them on the floor in her resplendent white dress.
For over an hour they played without many words, as if the act of playing itself built trust between them. Finally, Anna looked at Jacob and, with a smile full of perfect pearls of teeth, asked, “Where are you from?”
“We’ve come from Paris, though our parents are German,” Jacob answered.
“I know a bit of German. We’re from a city in the Netherlands, in the north, very close to the German border,” she said.
“I can speak German too. My brother understands it but doesn’t speak it.”
“Your brother is adorable. He’s like a little doll.” At this comment, Moses blushed, but happily.
“Have you been here long?” Jacob asked.
“The journey through France has been horrific. We left the Netherlands a few months ago. The Germans were starting to detain Jews, and we thought it would be safer to get out. My father was already in France, but he couldn’t get permission for us to travel with him. He ended up buying false documents. We wanted to go to Canada because we have family there, but the Germans wouldn’t let us leave the Netherlands. We made it to Paris almost two months ago, but we couldn’t find my father. They had arrested him and sent him to Germany. We were all alone, in a foreign country and without much money. Thank God, some Jewish friends told us about an organization that was helping hide our people. They took us south to Lyon. They wanted to get us to Marseille, but I guess things are getting ugly there too.” The girl rattled off the story as if from rote memory, with little emotion.
Jacob heard his own story reflected in Anna’s. Their lives sounded foreign to themselves, as if belonging to people in a film. They could hardly recognize themselves even in a mirror. In their minds, they were still happy, carefree children who loved their parents, went to school, and played every chance they got.
“Is there any place left to hide? We’re trying to get to South America. Our parents are in Argentina.”
“I think that’s the only safe place anymore. The only thing that can stop the Nazis is that huge ocean.” She ducked her head, real emotion finally surfacing.
When she looked back up, her eyes locked with Jacob’s, and he experienced an entirely new sensation: something like a tickling in his guts, followed by suffocating heat, and then terror.
“Are you okay?” Anna asked.
He nodded resolutely, though his flushed face contradicted the movement. “Let’s just keep playing.”
So they did, until lunchtime. Just before noon, Perrot came upstairs with a tray. Lunch was nothing spectacular, but the four of them sat down gratefully at the small table. Jacob and Moses sat on the edge of the bed while the mother and daughter took the two wooden chairs.
“Were you traveling by yourselves?” Mrs. Emdem asked.
Jacob nodded. “Yes. Our aunt died in the raid in Paris a few days ago.”
“I saw it in the papers. It sounds terrible. Fortunately, we had left the city by then, even though I didn’t want to. I was holding on to the hope that my husband would show up, though I knew they had taken him. But sometimes we humans run on false illusions and absurd hopes.” Mrs. Emdem’s melancholy cast an even more somber shadow over the meal.
“But we’re alive, Mother. We’re free, and we’re going to a wonderful place,” Anna said, attempting cheer. Her mother nodded and stroked her hair, then continued eating in silence.
Jacob was intrigued. “Where are you going?”
The girl and her mother looked at each other before answering. They did not know if they were allowed to speak of it. Finally, Anna said, “We’re going to Le Chambon-sur-Lignon. It’s a French commune in the Haute-Loire department, in the region of Auvergne.”
“I’ve never heard of that place,” Jacob said, shrugging.
“It’s very secluded,” Anna continued cautiously, “and surrounded by mountains. People used to spend summer holidays around there, but since the war started, it’s become a kind of refuge, a sanctuary for refugees. Nobody asks where you’re from or what your religion is. It’s a place where people are once again just that—people.”
It sounded like a fairytale to Jacob. He had worn a yellow star on his chest. He had been spit on, insulted, hit. Everybody everywhere cared about what country you were from, what your religion was, and how much money you had.
“It sounds like a wonderful place,” said Moses, who up to then had been quiet.
“It is.” Anna nodded. “And we’ll be there ’til the war is over.”
“But what if the Nazis win?” Jacob asked.
Anna gave him an exasperated look, annoyed at his insistence, though Jacob was only trying to help her be aware of the dangers all around them. They had to realize no place was really safe.
“I’m sorry, I’m not trying to bother you. I’ve never heard of that place. I was just curious,” he said, apologetically.
Mrs. Emdem smiled, gave Anna a calming hug, then said, “So where are you boys headed?”
Moses piped up. “We’re going to Argentina, where we’ll meet back up with our parents.”
“How wonderful. I’m sure you’ll be with them quite soon.”
Jacob was quiet for a while, then turned back to Anna. “Why do you think that town is so special? I’ve been in many towns all over France now, and I’ve run into good people, bad people, brave people, and cowards. So what makes that village different?”
Despite his tone, Jacob’s question riled her, but she took a deep breath and tried to answer calmly enough. “Not everybody is the same. The people of that village and the surrounding villages have refused to obey Marshal Pétain. The children don’t wear yellow stars, and they don’t have to give the Nazi salute. I can go to school with the other children and just live a normal life. If the Nazis win the war, the world they rule won’t be worth living in. So death will be better anyhow. Sometimes we think existence is better than dying, but that’s not always the case.”
“Anna,” her mother said, “I don’t like the way you’re talking.”
“I know, you’re right, but sometimes it seems like death is the best option, even though we never give up hope. France is no longer the nation of freedom and fraternity. It’s better that you’re getting out of the country, Jacob and Moses,” Anna said. An awkward silence followed. Jacob was sorry he had asked. Ms. Emdem changed the subject. She preferred that the few days her daughter would have in the company of other children would not be marked by such unpleasantness.
The afternoon passed quietly. Moses and Anna played, but Jacob read a Dumas novel in French. For a few hours he could lose himself and all the fear, relax, and let his imagination unfold in the seventeenth century.
After a frugal supper, they prepared for bed. By nightfall the women were in the bed, while the boys slept on a straw mattress on the floor.
Around midnight, Jacob awoke and went to the skylight in the roof. The stars were shining so brightly they looked like they had been painted onto a black canvas.
“Are you okay?” he heard in a whispered voice at his back. He turned and saw Anna. Her hair fell around her shoulders, spilling over her pink nightgown. In the starlight, the perfect features of her face seemed carved in marble.
“I just couldn’t sleep.”
“Me neither.”
“I’m sorry about my questions earlier tonight. I didn’t mean to upset you. Really we’re just looking for a place like that, too, but I’ve given up on believing it might exist.”
The girl nodded. “Sometimes faith is the only way forward.”
“I don’t even know what faith is,” Jacob said, confused.
“Having faith is trusting,” she explained.
Jacob was at a loss. “Trusting who?”
“In God, of course. Aren’t you a Jew?”
“Well, my parents were Jews, but we never talked about things like that. My aunt was more religious, but the only things I know about being Jewish are what they taught me this summer in the synagogue, and I didn’t go for long. I know we’re a chosen race, that God set us apart from other nations and that we should worship him, that he’s the only true God . . . but I don’t understand any of that stuff. What did he choose us for? For other people to hunt us down and hate us? My father’s an atheist. He believes the world is just a beautiful coincidence and that we are just animals with powers of reason.”
“It’s fine if your father thinks that, but I believe God is watching over us and taking care of us, though sometimes I don’t feel like he is. Come on, there’s somewhere I want to show you.”
Anna led him down the spiral staircase to the theater stage. Despite the darkness, Jacob felt safe beside her. They went into a small room, and she heaved something up. Taking his hand, she led him back to the stage. The auditorium was completely lit up. The golden box seats with red curtains shimmered with magic. Rows of burgundy seats were lined up like an army on the main floor, and the curtain was fully opened. They walked right to center stage and looked up.
“It’s beautiful!” Jacob exclaimed.
“Beauty is one of the things that helps me keep believing. Humans are capable of creating something like this. Beauty is all around us, though we don’t always recognize it.”
Jacob looked at her. The intense shining of her eyes again threatened to trap him forever. He brushed his cheek against hers and felt the warmth of her face. “You’re beautiful,” he said, “but what I like best about you is your desire to keep living. I mean, I hardly know you, but I don’t like the thought of leaving you.”
“Come with us to Le Chambon-sur-Lignon. When the war is over, you can find your parents. They’re not giving out visas anymore in Marseille. It’s too dangerous.” Her tone was pleading.
Jacob was quiet, just enjoying the moment, finally feeling like the protagonist of his own life.