Valence
August 8, 1942
Anna and her mother left the day after Jacob and Moses had met them. A transport truck came by in the evening. They hardly had time to say goodbye, but Jacob grabbed the girl’s hand and promised they would see each other again. It was an impulsive promise, driven by the desire to make destiny bend to their preference for once, but when the brothers were alone again, Jacob broke down and wept. Moses tried to console him. He knew that their ups and downs were like free-falling into desperation only to rebound up with hope and anticipation.
Over the next few days, Perrot’s kindnesses and visits from Vipond made them feel at least a little less lost. But being shut indoors was wearisome. Though they ventured out at night to explore the building and dress up as cowboys, soldiers, or ancient Romans, each day felt longer and more exasperating.
One night, when August had already doled out a few days of its suffocating heat, their two benefactors met with them. They brought a nice dinner, as if celebrating a special occasion.
“Well, this will be your last night in the city,” Perrot said, unable to hide the reason for the dinner any longer.
Jacob’s face lit up. “Have you gotten the visas?” Moses, seated, started bouncing at the foot of the bed, until they understood from the look on Vipond’s face that their celebration was premature.
“Marseille is besieged with gendarmes and immigration police. Even the Gestapo is combing the city. The politics of tolerance in the unoccupied zone has apparently come to an end. We hear news of raids everywhere, and even some of the ambassadors are scared. It is utterly impossible to get a visa in these circumstances,” Perrot said, his face downcast.
“Don’t worry about it. At least you tried. We’ll go to Spain, then. We might have better luck there,” Jacob offered.
“You wouldn’t even make it to Avignon. The roads are pockmarked with checkpoints. We don’t want you to end up in a concentration camp. We’ve heard reports of the horrendous conditions at the camps, and the authorities are sending the Jews to Germany. We’ll keep trying to find a way to get you to Argentina, but in the meantime, we’ve got to get you somewhere safe, somewhere you can be outside and breathe fresh air, play with other children, and live peacefully. The Nazis might kill us all, but we’re not going to just lie down and let them step on our necks. Each day you spend here, the Nazis are winning in a way. Early tomorrow morning you’ll leave for the valley region in south-central France,” Vipond explained.
Jacob frowned and crossed his arms. He would rather fall into the hands of the Nazis than give up searching for his parents.
Perrot read Jacob’s face. “We promise we will keep trying. Perhaps before the year is over, you’ll be sailing to South America. But to try it now would be suicide,” he said.
Moses looked at Jacob and waited to see how he would respond. Moses would do whatever Jacob said. They would never be separated.
“So where is this wonderful place?” Jacob said.
“The village of Le Chambon-sur-Lignon, where Anna and Mrs. Emdem went. They’ve been there over a week and seem happy,” Vipond said.
At that, a surprised little half smile crept over Jacob’s face. They could be with Anna. He had been thinking about her every day, unable to forget her. “Le Chambon-sur-Lignon, you say?” he asked, to make sure.
“Yes. There’s a Protestant pastor there, André Trocmé. We’ve spoken with him, and you boys can stay in the village for a few months. Jacob, you’ll be staying in the Maison des Roches with other boys your age. Moses, you’ll stay with a farmer’s family,” Perrot said.
“You want to separate us? But I promised my parents I’d take care of Moses.” Jacob was distraught again.
“You’ll see each other every week, especially on Saturdays and Sundays. He’ll be just fine. It’s better this way, and we haven’t found any other solutions. This is just a provisional step, for a few weeks, a few months at the most,” Perrot said, hoping to console him.
Moses grabbed Jacob’s hand. “We should go there. We can’t stay locked up here anymore. Plus, it’s dangerous. Mr. Vipond and Mr. Perrot will get us out of France as soon as they can.”
Jacob studied Moses’s face. He knew his brother was right. “Okay, we’ll go to Le Chambon-sur-Lignon. But if you don’t think you can get us out of the country before the end of the year, we’ll try to find our own way.”
The men smiled at Jacob’s determination, his brave commitment to keep his word.
“Then let’s finish supper before it’s all cold,” Vipond said. It would be hard to say goodbye to the boys, but it was not safe for them in Valence.
They finished eating, chatting pleasantly enough, then the men bid the boys goodnight. It took Jacob and Moses a long time to fall asleep. Partly they ached to get outside the four walls of what had become a quaint, comfortable prison, but the thought of being in danger again was terrifying.
“I just really want to see Mother and Father,” Moses groaned, knowing that the impending journey would further cement the separation.
“Look, it feels like the moment of joining them again is moving farther away, but really, each day we’re a bit closer. Mr. Perrot told me the Germans are starting to lose in North Africa and that they haven’t been able to advance in Russia for a long time. They’re going to lose the war. It won’t be long before we’ll be able to travel again.” Jacob was feeling more optimistic than usual, and he wanted to cheer Moses up. He knew his little brother’s hold on their parents was growing more and more tenuous and that it would not be long before it would feel to him as if they had never existed at all.
“I hope so. I hope the Allies give the Boche a good thrashing,” Moses said with all seriousness.
Jacob cracked up at the comment. After all, they themselves were German. “Go to sleep,” Jacob said.
Moses turned over, but Jacob stayed faceup, thinking about Anna. He noticed how his heart thumped louder when she crossed his mind. So he would get to see her again after all, as he had promised. The journey would be worth it, even if he only spent the briefest second by her side. Somewhere between waking and sleeping he dreamed of coming back to France after the war and bringing Anna to Argentina with his family. They would be happy in Buenos Aires, a land of freedom and plenty. Nobody would care if they were Jewish, German, or Dutch. With the dying embers of lucidity, he understood that happiness was comprised of small decisions that move you closer to your dreams. Before you could be happy, you had to imagine life as an exciting novel with a happy ending.