The next morning, Henny overslept, setting off late for her mile-long walk to school. Last night’s radio report about the Nazis and Hitler had played over and over in her mind, like one of Far’s records when it skipped and got stuck in a loop on the phonograph. Between that, the Nazi boat sighting, and thoughts of Susanne somehow caught in the middle of it all, she’d had a very hard time falling asleep.
Up ahead, she could see her friends leaning against the school building, waiting for the bell to ring. She joined them, exchanging greetings with everyone. Lukas made room for her beside him. “You’re late,” he said, smiling down at her.
Lukas was tall for his sixteen years, with blond hair that flopped down like a mop on his forehead, covering his eyes. When their teacher, Mr. Jepsen, wasn’t telling Lukas to get a haircut, he was scolding him for letting his shirttail hang out of his trousers. Even when Lukas managed to tuck in the shirt, it would somehow find a way out, as if, like his hair, it had a mind of its own. So far, Lukas had resisted the strong suggestion that he cut his hair. He flipped his bangs aside, but a second later, they crept back over his face. Henny liked that Lukas pushed the limits of acceptable appearance in school. It made him interesting and a bit daring.
“I slept in,” Henny replied.
“Did you study for the test?”
That question came from Emma, standing with her twin sister, Sophia. The twins were identical in every way, the same deep-blue eyes and the same bright-red, curly hair, always worn in the same style, pulled over to one side and held in place with identical hair clips. They even stood the same way, their heads titled slightly to the right when someone was speaking, as if that helped them to listen. The only way to tell them apart was that Emma wore glasses and Sophia didn’t.
Henny shrugged. School had never been her strength. She managed to get through most of her subjects with average grades, but she found it all so boring! She would rather be out sailing than sitting in a classroom listening to her teacher drone on about literature or mathematics. She was going to follow in her father’s footsteps and join the navy, so what did it matter if she was good in those subjects, or any subject. She could steer a boat out of a narrow channel practically with her eyes closed. She could sense when the winds had changed and bad weather was moving in. She had told all of this to Far, but he had been unimpressed.
“And do you think I became a naval officer because I didn’t pay attention in school?” he asked. “It’s my studies in mathematics and geography and science that got me to this position.”
Henny knew in her heart that what her father said was true. If only her classroom could be on the sea, especially at this time of year when the weather was so hot. The school year for all Danish children began in early August. A classroom on the sea would have been so much more interesting. It would have made everything make more sense!
“We studied,” the twins said in unison, speaking almost as one person, which they often did. Emma had once told Henny that she and her sister felt a sort of whispering in their heads that made them know what the other was thinking or feeling or even about to say. It was as if they shared the same mind. That fascinated Henny, though she couldn’t imagine being that connected to another person.
“I’m ready,” Lukas added easily. He was a top-notch student and aced every test, which was probably the reason Mr. Jepsen didn’t press him more firmly to cut his hair or fix his careless appearance.
“I’ll bet you didn’t even open a book,” Henny said. It sometimes infuriated her that some people, like Lukas, found school so easy when she struggled most days. “And what about you?” she asked Erik, who stood with them by the school wall.
If Lukas was considered casual or even sloppy in appearance, then Erik was the complete opposite. He was always neatly dressed, shoes polished, his dark hair short and straight, with a razor-sharp part on one side. Erik was one of the quietest kids in school—the kind who watched what was going on but said little. Henny and Erik had been closer when they were younger and conversation had been less important than just playing together. They had drifted apart since then.
“Are you ready for the test?” Henny asked Erik again. She wanted to try to include him in the conversation.
He shrugged. “I’ll be okay.”
Erik’s family had come from Germany when he was a little boy, which had never really mattered to Henny one way or the other. But now, with Germany at the center of everything happening in the world these days, she wondered what Erik thought about it all. She knew better than to ask, though. Even if he did have opinions about it, it would be like pulling teeth to get him to talk. She turned away and gazed out past the schoolyard to the field that the high school shared with the elementary school. Sure enough, she spotted Susanne playing in the field. At that moment, Susanne looked up, saw Henny, and waved. Henny smiled and waved back. Then, Susanne mimed sailing a boat, hands on an imaginary steering wheel, turning it quickly to the left and then to the right. Henny smiled again and gave her a thumbs-up.
When Henny turned back to her group, Erik was staring at her, his dark eyes probing. An uneasy feeling passed through her. No reason for that, she thought. Still, she shook her arms, as if she was shaking the feeling away just as the bell rang and students began to gather their bags and join the line to enter the school building. Erik turned and moved to the door.
“Good luck on the test,” the twins declared.
Henny waited while Lukas bent to retrieve his book bag. The bag was open, and while he was trying to get it closed, a couple of papers from inside fell out. Henny gasped when she saw what was printed on them. Each sheet had a swastika printed at the top. But the hated symbol had a thick, black X drawn across it.
Henny had just managed to get that horrible image out of her head, and here it was again, following her around like a mosquito. Lukas looked up and saw her face. He reddened.
“Lukas, what are you doing with those papers?” Henny’s voice shook. With all the recent talk of severe punishment for anyone speaking out against the Nazis, seeing these pamphlets unnerved her more than ever.
He grabbed the sheets and shoved them into his bag. “It’s nothing.”
“But those Nazi signs! Why are you carrying them around?”
Lukas closed his bag tightly and stood. “I said it’s nothing. Good luck on the test, Henny.”
And before Henny could say another word, Lukas bolted for the school building, leaving her standing there, all alone.