Anki Dykstra had no energy these days to do the most basic of chores. She pulled the blackout shades over the long windows in the front room of her home and sank into the overstuffed brown chair, grateful for the chance to rest and put up her feet. Plates and silverware clanked together as Piet finished the dishes, the lingering smell of hutspot, rich with the odors of carrots and potatoes, permeating the house.
She rubbed her still-flat stomach. It wouldn’t be that way for long. Inside she harbored a secret, the longed-for answer to many years of fervent prayers. Piet didn’t know yet. She wanted to be sure there were no problems before she shared her surprise. They had waited and waited for a child. He would be so surprised and happy. At least she hoped so.
He came from the kitchen and perched on the chair’s arm, his long legs splayed to the side. He kissed her on top of her head. “Are you feeling any better? Can I get you anything?”
She held his hand. “Bedankt for cleaning up the kitchen.”
“You should see Doktor Boukma.” He squeezed her hand. “This has been going on far too long.”
“It will pass. If we had milk, a warm glass would be good.”
He released her hand and stood. “We are not going to go over this yet another time. I refuse to steal milk from the plant. Not only could I lose my job, but it would be breaking both the civil law and God’s law.”
He was right. She didn’t want to rehash this topic. Soon enough she would be able to obtain milk because of her pregnancy. “How about we go to bed? A good night’s rest would be nice.” She went to her husband, and arm in arm they headed out of the room and to the hall for the stairs.
Before she could place her foot on the first step, someone pounded on the door. Piet squeezed her shoulder. “You go on up while I answer the door.”
He had no more than opened it a crack when her sister, Corrie, pushed her way inside. “Is Anki around?”
“Right here.” She retraced her steps to the front of the house. “What is it?”
“Umm . . .” Corrie hesitated, pushing back the stray strand of long auburn hair that had escaped its clip. “I need to speak to you alone, about a, well, a woman thing, you know?”
Piet shut the door. “You two have your chat. Come up soon, Anki. Good to see you, Cornelia.” He nodded his blond head in Corrie’s direction, then disappeared up the stairs.
“I need you to come with me. We have an emergency. Get your coat and let’s go.” Corrie tugged on her sister’s arm.
Anki pulled away. “Are you crazy? Why would you take me out after curfew?”
“Hush.” Corrie lowered her voice. “No one can know, not even Piet.”
No one in her family trusted Piet because of his unbending convictions. They kept many secrets from her.
“Johan brought a man home tonight. The Gestapo botched his execution. They shot him in the shoulder and the bullet is still in there. There is so much blood I have no idea what to do.”
Anki’s pulse tripped over itself. Johan was home? And what about this mysterious patient? She couldn’t say no. Her nursing training, dormant since her marriage, woke up and kicked in.
“Just wait a minute. I have to tell Piet something and gather a few things. Start praying that the Nazis will not catch us out after curfew.”
“I already am. Just hurry. This man is very weak.”
Anki flew up the steps and into the bedroom she shared with her husband. He was slipping off his dark blue button-down shirt as she entered the room. For a moment, she forgot everything except why she married him.
He turned to face her. “What did Cornelia want?”
“She has a sick friend who requires some medical assistance.”
“What about the doktor?”
That was a good question she had forgotten to ask. “He must be out on another call.”
“What friend?”
“Just a friend of Corrie’s.”
“You are breaking the Germans’ law by going out now. You will do that for a stranger?”
“Curfew means nothing when a person is sick. Maybe even dying.”
“Is it that serious?”
Anki nodded. “Ja.”
“You know how I feel about this.”
“I know, but it would be wrong to let someone die because of a curfew.”
“God would find a way to heal the person, if it be His will.”
“Tonight I am that way.”
“Anki . . .”
“Please. I want to be a submissive wife, but this is something I have to do.”
Piet put his hands in his pockets. “You know you are risking your life.”
And their child’s. “I have to go. That is what my nursing training was all about.”
“And what if I forbid you?”
“Forbid me?” In their four years of marriage, he had never spoken like this. “Please, please understand and let me go.” If Corrie spoke the truth about the man’s condition, they didn’t have a minute to argue. “A human life hangs in the balance and precious time is wasting away.”
“You should let God take care of things.” Piet sighed. “You know how I feel, but if you have to go, then go.”
“This will take awhile and so it will be morning at least before I get home. Hopefully before you go to work.” She stood on her tiptoes beside her husband and kissed him. “I love you.”
He rubbed her shoulder. “I will be praying for you.”
“Bedankt.” If she had to sneak out after curfew and remove a bullet from the shoulder of a wanted man, she would need those prayers. She gathered a few things and placed them in her rucksack along with her identification papers. Piet’s sat beside hers on the little night table. She fingered them, then, shielding his view of the table with her body, slid his into the bag.
Within minutes, she and Corrie pedaled through the chilly night. All the world, clothed in darkness, slept. The church bells, which would have rung out the hour, had been confiscated by the Nazis and melted down as part of the war effort.
Not a word passed between the two sisters. No need to draw any attention to themselves. A soldier might be lurking around any corner. They crossed the bridge across the canal, and Anki breathed a sigh when they arrived at the house without incident.
Her brother met them at the door and she hugged him. “Oh, I have missed you.” She stood back and examined him, his broad shoulders and work-roughened hands. “You grew quite a bit.”
He laughed. “Corrie said that too.”
So he hadn’t been with their sister the entire time. Maybe they would tell her everything when the war ended.
She didn’t come here to talk to her brother, though. She dropped her medical instruments into a pot of boiling water. God bless her sister for always putting on the pot to boil if someone was sick or hurt.
After scrubbing her hands with lye soap, Anki went to the bedstee.
Johan joined her. “He passed out soon after I brought him here.”
“Corrie told me you were outside.”
“Don’t worry. She already gave me the you’d-better-watch-out-or-you’re-going-to-get-in-trouble speech. And she has a superb one.”
“Unconscious. Good. No need for a sedative.” Anki lifted the bandage and observed the wound.
“This bullet will have to come out. Get me the supplies in the pot on the stove. Make sure you wash your hands before you touch them.”
While he was gone, she stretched her arms and shoulders and formulated a plan. She would have to be meticulous not to nick any other blood vessels.
Johan returned with the sterilized instruments. “Can I watch? Or maybe even help?”
“Ja, I need you to hand me what I ask for.” She glanced at him, a grin stretched across his wide face.
The bullet had cut a clean path into the man’s shoulder. Johan assisted her. Holding her breath, she managed to remove it without causing further injury. She exhaled and relaxed her shoulders.
With peroxide, she cleaned the wound. Infection could be deadlier than the bullet damage. That they would have to guard against. She wasn’t a surgeon, but in the end, she was pleased with how she closed the wound. Not bad for a needle and thread.
Johan leaned over and inspected her work. “Can I keep the bullet?”
“That is disgusting.” And very typical of her brother.
When they completed their work, they joined Corrie in the kitchen. “I stitched his wound closed and that should stop the bleeding. He will need to be still until it heals. Clean it every day and watch for any signs of infection. He was one of the men shot near the canal?”
Johan stood straighter. “Can you believe that? I found him lying on the bank, begging for help.”
Anki looked between her siblings. “What have you gotten yourselves into?” She couldn’t believe her sister had become entwined in this.
Corrie hugged herself.
“You two have to get him out of here before the Germans find out. Do you hear me?”
Johan stepped farther into the light. “He has nowhere else to go, and when the Nazis come back and count the bodies, they are sure to search for him.”
“Therein lies the problem. The Gestapo will be here. Not only do you have this man here, but you have Johan to protect.”
“He has a place to hide, but we have to figure out a plan for Wim. The hiding place is too small for two, and his shoulder would prevent him from making it in there, you know?”
“Where is it?”
Even in the dim room, Anki could see her brother’s baby blue eyes light up. “Under the house. I crawl into it from the storage area next to the bedstee. Corrie puts the potatoes back and no one even knows it is there.”
The more she heard of this, the less she liked it.
Corrie tented her fingers. “He’ll leave as soon as he is better. Please promise me you won’t let out even a squeak of this. Promise me.”
Anki sat next to her sister at the smooth dining room table that had once belonged to their parents. “You are in so much danger.”
“We’ll be in far more if anyone finds out Wim is here.”
“What about Piet? I told him you had a friend with an emergency and you couldn’t reach the doktor. I could say that much without telling a lie.”
“You can’t tell him the truth. Not ever. Even if he asks you a direct question about this. And don’t tell any of your neighbors or your girlfriends or anyone from church. You must keep this secret. Do you promise?”
Anki folded her hands in front of her. “I promise, Corrie. I promise.”
She didn’t like it, but she would keep her word.
LOUD, INSISTENT BANGING at the door jolted Cornelia. The thumping, the shouting came straight out of her restless, nightmare-drenched sleep. In her dream, she rode a stuffy, crowded train due east. Sweat covered her body and she shivered.
Guttural German voices filled the dark night air. “Open the door. Now. Let us in.”
She came fully awake.
They pounded without stopping while she roused herself. She had slept in her clothes, knowing this would happen. The Gestapo had arrived, searching for Wim. And here he lay, unconscious, in her very own home.
All of the years of the occupation, she had lived in apprehension of this. For some reason, the Nazis would come for her, would arrest her, would take her away and she would never come back. That happened to people. They vanished off the streets one day and were never seen again.
And now she had Johan to shelter.
He appeared as if she had conjured him. “Quick, help me in.”
With shaking hands, she slid the false panel out of place in the storage cupboard. He slithered in and wriggled into the tiny space under the floor. She slid the panel back.
Umpka Kees helped them construct this when Johan first came home. They told her it was not quite a meter high, and about two and a half meters wide and long. She had not gone down to check the dimensions for herself.
After she handed him Anki’s supplies, she plunked the potatoes back in place and closed the cupboard door. Wim stirred in the bed. She leaned over and whispered in his ear, “Quiet now, be quiet. The Gestapo are here looking for you. Just play along with us.” She prayed he heard her.
The pounding on the door continued, as did the commands to open up.
Everything inside her turned to water. Her mouth went dry as she ordered her legs to carry her to the front door.
Anki met her in the hall. “Do you remember what to do?”
She nodded, only her sheer will holding her upright. Her sister left her side to put their plan into motion.
She prayed Anki’s theatrics would convince the Germans.