None of the mothers dealt very well with Orlando being taken. I burst into Anton’s flat to tell him, and Mrs. B. fainted on the spot before I had said a word. The women were going down like pins in a bowling alley. Once we had got her up again, Anton and I had a conference on the balcony.
“What has he been arrested for?” whispered Anton. I hadn’t thought about it, but I suppose he was worried that it might have been for something we had taken part in. I didn’t know who to be most worried for—my mother, father, Orlando, Anton, his parents, or even myself. If they could take my brilliant brother, then we might well be next. I felt ashamed to be thinking about myself.
“Maybe it’s that law that bans all communist organizations.”
Anton frowned. “But Orlando isn’t a communist.”
“No, but he’s certainly done enough in the resistance for the Germans to want him out of the way.”
“But how do they know that? Orlando has been so careful. I wonder what else they know?” Anton crossed his arms and frowned. “Where have they taken him?”
“I don’t know. They grabbed him in the street but I have no idea where he is now, and I don’t suppose anyone will tell us.”
Without Orlando to lead the way, it was difficult to know what to do. After that night Masha stayed home with Mama. I don’t think she ever saw her soldier again. Papa could hardly bring himself to speak to her, and she crept about the apartment like an animal with an injured paw. Thomas also refused to leave and slept like a cat at the foot of Mama’s bed while she cried in her sleep for her eldest son. Papa had tried to find out where my brother had been taken, but you couldn’t ask too many questions as that might make things worse. It was awful.
I think even Uncle Johann was shocked.
“But why, Peter?” he asked Papa. “Orlando is just a boy.”
“I know that, Johann—they are all just boys trying to fight these invaders you seem to think so highly of. Well done, brother, now your blessed troops have taken my son.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t have let him get involved in the resistance,” declared Uncle Johann defensively.
I could hear Papa take a deep breath. “Maybe, Johann, he didn’t think he had a choice when even his own uncle won’t stand up for his country.”
“I am standing up for my country. If we don’t cooperate, you know that the French or the English will attack.”
“Johann, that is nonsense. It is German propaganda. The Germans are not invincible. They are not protecting us from the French or the English. Stop being so afraid. We can beat this.”
“I am not afraid, I just… I don’t know anymore.”
Johann’s voice faltered; then he swept out of the apartment, almost crying. He ran down past Anton and me, sitting on the stairs. My uncle’s footsteps echoed on the stone steps as we sat listening to Mama’s sobbing. Upstairs, Mrs. B. was also crying softly, and we couldn’t bear to be in either apartment. For a long time we didn’t say anything at all, then Anton said, “What about the perforating machines?”
“The what?”
Anton lowered his voice to a whisper. “The perforators … you know … the guns Orlando had. Where are they?”
I shrugged. Orlando hadn’t told me everything. “In his room somewhere, I guess.”
Anton nodded. “Well, the first thing we need to do is get those to the rifle club.”
I looked at Anton in disbelief. “Anton, we can’t do that. You don’t understand. Orlando didn’t tell me everything. I don’t know how to find the rifle club. I don’t know who is in charge.”
Anton looked at me with his big dark eyes. “Then we have to find out. We’ll go to the paper. Someone there will tell us what to do.”
I was terrified. Without my brother there I didn’t want anything to do with the resistance. “We can’t. The guns are dangerous and—”
Anton put his hand on my shoulder. “Bamse, I know you are afraid, but this isn’t just about us. We can’t give up now.”
“I don’t know, Anton. Maybe we should ask Papa.”
Anton shook his head. “No. He will have enough to worry about. Come on, we can do this.” He put his small shoulders back and headed for the door.
For some time now I had been feeling inclined not to do anything. I grabbed his arm. “I don’t know, Anton, maybe it’s too soon. Maybe they’ll be watching us. Don’t you think we should lie low for a bit?”
Anton turned and looked at me. “It’s all right for you to give up, Bamse, you’re not Jewish, but I don’t have a choice. If they’ve taken Orlando, then we could be next. You stay if you want, but I have to do this for my family.”
It was the only time we mentioned the difference between us. I felt ashamed of myself. Anton turned to go, and quietly I followed after him.
The streets seemed quieter, more menacing. We parked our bikes around the corner and headed to the dentist’s office. There had been a password to get in but now there was no need. The door was hanging off its hinges and the place was deserted. There were papers and pieces of smashed equipment all over the floor.
Anton stood in the middle of the mess and shook his head. “Someone’s given the location away.”
“But who?” I couldn’t imagine any of the people we had met doing such a thing. Outside, we could hear a truck passing by. I wanted to run away as fast as possible. Being at the paper had been great when the presses were whirring and the secret news was being printed, but now I felt as though there were Germans hiding behind every door. Who was it in that room with us who had given Orlando away?
“What do we do now, Anton?” I asked. “We don’t know who we can trust.”
Anton looked at me and held out his hand. “We can trust each other, Bamse,” he said, and we solemnly shook on our friendship. I knew from the look in Anton’s eye that he wouldn’t let me give in, but I also knew it was going to mean trouble.