The wind burned Paul’s cheeks as he and the rest of the soccer players cleared the snow from the field. They were crazy for being out here, but you could only play chess and cards for so long.
“Hey, Albrecht, hurry up. Let’s get this game in before dark.” Jorgen Baum ran down the field with his shovel, like a train plowing through a drift.
Paul pushed his own pile. He’d show Baum who was stronger and faster.
With both teams working, they soon had the brown, frozen turf exposed. Paul set the ball in the middle of the field, and the teams lined up opposite each other. Baum gave a shrill whistle, and his team’s forward kicked the ball.
The ball careened in Paul’s direction. He went to pass it to a teammate when Baum pushed him. Umph. His backside met the unforgiving ground. “Hey, ref, how about a foul?”
Fritz Drothe shook his head and crossed his arms. Not surprising, since he was Baum’s bunkmate.
Paul jumped up and ran to guard his team’s goal. The opposition’s forward sidestepped a defender and shot. Goal.
The game continued until sweat rolled down Paul’s back despite the chilly temperatures. After several falls, his backside ached. He’d have bruises for sure. Baum’s team triumphed.
As Paul headed for the ballroom, the rest of Baum’s team gathered in a circle, bent together. He ambled over, but they kept their voices low. From the camp’s perimeter, a guard eyed the group.
Paul crept closer until he picked up their words.
“Where shall we go?”
“There are several taverns not too far away, by the railroad tracks.”
“But what are we going to use for money? We can’t buy drinks with the scrip we’re given.”
“I have a little pocket change.” Paul could almost hear Baum’s grin. “And we’ll charm the ladies into buying us a beer or two.”
“Won’t they recognize our accents?”
Baum shrugged. “Who needs words?”
Paul pushed between two men and into the center of the ring. “What are you planning?”
“Nothing for you to concern yourself with.” Baum spat the words between clenched teeth.
“But it is.”
“You’re spying for Captain Atkins. Getting cozy with that American. Just because you speak English doesn’t mean you’re superior. I suspect you’re a Jew lover as well.” Baum marched away.
Paul followed in his wake. “I’m not going to allow you to do this. Our captors treat us well. We’re better off here than we were in the fighting. I’ve put on weight. We have had it good. Don’t do anything to mess it up. You know about the jail cell under the cellar stairs.”
“You worry too much. A little pansy captured in France without firing a single shot.” Baum spat at Paul’s feet.
Heat rose in Paul’s chest. “How dare you?”
“You aren’t truly a man.”
“And how do you expect to get out of here? All of you missing will be noticed.”
“That’s where you come in.” Baum sneered. “If anyone says anything, you tell them we’re in the latrine. Bad food in the dining hall.”
“And if I refuse?” Paul wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead.
“You don’t want to know.”
Even in the dimming light, Paul didn’t miss the wicked gleam in Baum’s narrow-eyed gaze. The group dispersed and headed to the barracks.
Paul didn’t follow. He rubbed the back of his neck and wandered in circles around the property, the white pines, Pinus strobus, perfuming the air. Just like at home, in the forest, where he’d hike for hours to clear his head.
He peered at the sky, pink and purple and orange tingeing the streaky clouds. “God, what do I do?”
Should he snitch and turn the men in? His midsection tightened. Rumors flew through the camp that the men who comprised the team had been SS officers. They weren’t supposed to be here, in the middle of a civilian population. If the stories proved true, though, they wouldn’t hesitate to carry out their threats.
But was it right to have this knowledge and keep it to himself? “Lord, help me.”
“Paul? Paul? Is that you?”
He had wandered near the fence and a clump of leafless lilac bushes, Syringa vulgaris. That’s where the soft, feminine voice emanated from. “Miriam?”
The lilac bushes’ branches stabbed and scratched Miriam as she approached the fence. Since her conversation with Florence last week, the thought that she was more in love with a memory than with a man tormented her. She couldn’t erase the idea from her mind.
To be fair to Arthur, and her father, she had to know.
She popped through the bushes against the low snow fence surrounding the property. For the past several nights, she’d come, holding her breath, waiting in vain for Paul to appear.
A lone figure moved about the grounds, just his height and weight, hands in his pockets as usual. His almost jaunty walk gave him away. “Paul.”
The shadow approached. “Miriam?” He stood in front of her, dirty and radiating heat.
“What have you been doing?”
“Playing a game of soccer. Why are you here? How is your ankle?”
“Fine. I was out for a walk when I wandered by.”
“That’s not true. Your voice lowers when you fib.”
She deflated. “All right, I’ve been here four nights in a row, hoping to catch a glimpse of you.”
He leaned over the fence. “What about your father? And Arthur?”
“Daddy thinks I’m upstairs in bed. But I had to know if there’s anything left between us.”
“I thought about you all the time. You kept me going.”
Her breath caught in her throat. She choked back tears. “Are you in love with me? Or with a snapshot in your pocket?”
“You assume I keep your picture with me.”
She drew back.
He reached for her. “I was only pulling your feet.”
“You mean pulling my leg.”
“Ja, your leg. Of course, I had your photo with me always.”
“So which do you love?”
A long silence stretched in front of them. He rubbed his eyes and puffed out a breath. “I don’t know. Years have gone by. I’m not the same man you met, not that carefree spirit. If you knew the things I saw. But I pray you never do.”
She rubbed his thumb and spoke in an almost indiscernible whisper. “I can’t imagine.” What must he have endured? “Someday, maybe, you’ll share that with me.”
“All I know is every time I imagine my future, I see you in it.”
Her heart rate increased, like it did when she flew, and a smile escaped. “I’m glad.”
“Let’s get to know each other. See if the future we dreamed of is possible.”
“That would be great.”
“Right now, I have a dilemma.”
She straightened her shoulders. “Anything I can help with?”
“If you knew someone was going to do something wrong, should you reveal those plans, even if it puts you at risk?”
“That’s a tough question. What’s going on?”
“The soccer players are sneaking over the fence tonight to go into town. They’ve threatened me if I don’t cooperate. And I believe they will follow through.”
“I’ve heard of some of the men going out dancing and such. But they’ll harm you if you tell?”
“The captain put me in charge of them, to keep them from trouble. They view me as a weakling, a snitch. Yes, they wouldn’t hesitate to hurt me.”
“Those who go out always come back, don’t they?”
“Ja. They know how good they have it. They could be hungry and shot at. Or worse.”
The tang of adventure tickled her tongue. A chance to spend some time with Paul out from under watching eyes. “I have a plan.”
“Do I want to hear it?”
“Sure you do. We’ll follow them. Watch from a distance. If they don’t get into any mischief and come right back, what harm is it? If they do, you go to the captain.”
He shook his head and blew out another breath. “I don’t know.”
Her heart already racing, she leaned closer. “Come on. It will be fun. Remember your sense of adventure. And we’ll get to spend time together.”