The walls of the small office closed in on Paul. The wall clock tick-tocked away the minutes as he awaited the captain’s return.
Paul rubbed his temples. He might have lost any chance he had to woo Miriam for a second time. For sure, the captain would transfer him to a more secure camp along with the rest of the rabble-rousers. And she would marry Arthur.
He paced across the room and back, a total of six steps. Over and over. Movie night went on in the main ballroom, occasional laughter punctuating the silence. After a while, the floors in the hallway creaked as men paraded to the basement to use the washroom before lights-out. Still no captain.
Paul sat in the wooden chair across from the captain’s seat. How could he have been such a Dummkopf? What possessed him to follow them instead of reporting them? And yet, the thrill of the chase, the risk they took, enlivened him like nothing else had since his capture. He loved the excitement.
But it may not have been worth it if it cost him his last shot at happiness with Miriam. To see if they truly still loved each other.
He must have dozed, because before he knew it, the captain stood over him and shook him by the shoulder. “Albrecht, get up.”
Paul sprang from the chair. “Sir.”
“Well, well, well.” Captain Atkins made a circuit around the room, his English slow and drawn out, different from Miriam’s. “This is not what I would have expected of you.”
“I’m sorry, sir.”
“I want to know why.”
Should he tell him about the threat? He would look weak. Like a complainer. “I heard of their plan and decided to watch them. When you put me in charge, you wanted me to do that, I thought.”
“Keep an eye on them, yes. Help them escape, no.”
“That part they did all on their own.”
“You should have informed me.”
“Yes, sir. I understand that now.”
The captain heaved a sigh. “The men will be moved. Right now, I’m holding them in the cell downstairs.”
Paul swallowed hard. “And what about me?”
“You’ve put me in a fine pickle. What am I supposed to do? The mayor is up in arms over this incident. The good people of this town won’t be happy when they discover what y’all have done. They’ll want the camp shut down.”
“Yes, sir. Though I’d very much like to stay.”
“I figured as much. Does it have anything to do with a certain young lady you were spotted with tonight?”
“The decision not to tell you was mine. She had nothing to do with it.”
“You met her before the war, didn’t you?”
“Yes. We spent the summer of ‘39 together. I was shocked to find out I was being moved to her hometown.”
“And she’s the reason you don’t want the camp to close.”
“Among others, yes. You Americans treat your prisoners well. Much better than we treat ours.”
“The Fritz Ritz is what y’all call it.”
“Please, don’t send me with Baum and his men. I’ve learned my lesson.”
“But you’ve put me in an untenable situation. My supervisors will want to know what I did to handle this. If they find out one of the men went unpunished, I will be in serious trouble.”
“Yes, sir.” Paul slumped against the wall. “I’m sorry if what I did put you in a bumpy spot.”
“Give me some time to think about it. You are dismissed.”
Paul left the office and shut the door behind him. He crossed the hallway into the ballroom in almost total darkness and found his bunk.
“Quite the excitement, wasn’t it?” Werner rolled over on his bed.
“Ja.”
“I’m surprised you aren’t locked up with the others.”
“That may not last. The captain doesn’t want to move me, but he may have no choice. The camp may even be forced to close.”
“I’m sorry. I hope he takes your general record into account. He did put you in charge of those men for a reason.”
“And I violated his trust.” Paul yanked the sheets over his head.
“Why didn’t you go to him?”
“They threatened me. Foolish, I know. But what else to do?”
“And Miriam went along with you.”
“I can’t let them send me somewhere else.” Paul’s windpipe tensed. “I can’t lose her a second time.”
The sweet and salty aroma of frying bacon awoke Miriam and called her downstairs. She pulled on her workaday green dress and ran a comb through her hair before descending to face her father. She strove to make her voice as bright as possible. “Good morning.”
“Morning.” Daddy flipped the bacon in the frying pan.
She poured herself a cup of coffee and bent over the stove. “Smells good. Do you want me to take over?”
“I can manage.” No trace of emotion crossed his face.
A volcano of warmth built in her chest. “I’m sorry about last night.”
“I’m disappointed. Lying and sneaking around isn’t like you. That’s Paul’s bad influence. And the way you treated Arthur was uncalled for. He’s a good man, and you spurn him. I won’t stand for it.”
The heat inside of her rose then erupted. She struggled to control her words. “For the thousandth time, I’m not interested in him. He may very well be a good man. In fact, I’m sure he is. But he’s not for me. He’s dull and boring. I want more out of my life than cooking and cleaning all day long. Whether anything happens between me and Paul, I won’t marry Arthur. Please, stop inviting him over and encouraging him. He’s going to wind up with a broken heart.” She stomped out of the room.
“Miriam, come back. Miriam.”
She pounded up the stairs to her room and slammed the door.
Daddy followed and knocked. “Young lady, you’ve gone too far.”
She couldn’t stem the tide of tears that streaked down her cheeks. “I’m sorry, Daddy. I shouldn’t have stomped out of the room. But you can’t make me marry him.”
He entered. She turned her back to him. “Miriam, be reasonable.”
“I would never be happy with him.”
The bed bounced as he sat beside her. “You always were a stubborn girl. Couldn’t sit still for the life of you. You gave Mama fits. She chased you until she was exhausted. One minute you’d be in the hayloft, the next by the creek, the next playing in the dirt.”
“Being a farmer’s wife wouldn’t suit me.”
“I’ve always wanted your happiness above everything else. Can’t you trust that I know what is good for you?”
“But it’s not Arthur.”
“You don’t even give him a chance.”
She faced her father. Lines etched his face. His heart wasn’t strong. How much longer would he be able to manage the farm on his own? He needed to slow down. Was she being selfish in not considering Arthur? Then he wouldn’t have to worry about who would take over the farm when he couldn’t work the land or care for the cows. But the farm was his life. Not hers. “Mama liked Paul. She saw him for who he was. Who he is.”
“Your mother had a soft spot in her heart for you.”
That old, familiar ache squeezed her chest. If Mama were here, she’d help Daddy to see reason. “She was a wise woman. If Paul wasn’t a good man, she would never have allowed me to be with him.”
“You know how I feel.” Daddy stood and crossed his arms. “That’s all I have to say about the matter. I don’t want you seeing him or speaking to him.”
“I’m not going to continue leading on Arthur. You’re right. He’s a good man and doesn’t deserve to be strung along. He should have the chance to find someone who will love him like I never will.” Miriam rose and brushed past her father. Once downstairs, she plucked her coat from the hook by the back door, slipped on her boots, and escaped into the frosty outdoors.
Arthur’s farm abutted theirs. She pulled in a deep breath and trudged the quarter mile to the almost identical white farmhouse. When they’d been children, they had walked to and from school together. Most days he offered to carry her books. She never let him. In high school, he’d asked her to every dance. She turned him down every time. These days, he invited her to the cinema with him. They hadn’t gone together once.
Why now did her heart pound in her ears and her hands tremble?