The Hesitant Hero Page 14

  Jolie waited for him to say more, and when he did not, she said, “What about your uncle and aunt?”

  “They’re dead.” Anger flared in his dark eyes. “The Germans killed them.”

  “Oh, Antoine, I’m so sorry,” Jolie said.

  “When did this happen, son?” Tyler asked.

  “A week ago. I saw the Germans coming, and I hid. They said my aunt and uncle were spies, and they shot them just like they were dogs or something.”

  Jolie felt a great pity for the boy. “I’m so sorry, Antoine.”

  “I stayed after the Germans left. They didn’t even bury them,” he said bitterly. “I dug the graves and buried them myself.” He looked up then, anger in his eyes. “But I’ll get them! I’m gonna kill as many Germans as I can!”

  “I wouldn’t worry about that right now,” Tyler said quietly. “What do your parents do?”

  “My dad’s a blacksmith. We’re gypsies.”

  “Really?” Rochelle said. “I never knew a real gypsy.”

  “Well, you know one now.”

  “Why don’t you stay here with us tonight,” Jolie said. “Then you can decide where you want to go tomorrow morning.”

  “I know where I’m going. I’m going to England to find my ma and pa, but I’ll stay here tonight, I guess.”

  “That’s where we’re going too,” Rochelle exclaimed. “You can come with us.”

  “Wait just a minute, Rochelle,” Tyler said. “I’m afraid I’ve got my hands full with the four of you.”

  The boy had looked hopeful for a moment, but now he looked at the ground.

  “We’re all tired,” Jolie said. “Let’s get settled in for the night and we can discuss this tomorrow.” Jolie found a blanket for Antoine and he went off a short distance away from the rest of the group and quickly went to sleep.

  The children were too excited to sleep, but they did get settled in the wagon and then stayed awake whispering for a long time. Tyler and Jolie stayed by the fire, discussing Antoine as they poked at the fire with long sticks. Before long Damien climbed out of the wagon and approached the two.

  “We’ve got to take Antoine with us. We’re going to England anyway. It wouldn’t hurt for him to join us.”

  “We can’t do that,” Tyler said.

  “Why not?”

  “We can’t be responsible for him.”

  “You’re responsible for me, and for Rochelle and Yolande—and for Marie too.”

  “Go to sleep, Damien,” Jolie said.

  “It wouldn’t hurt anything,” Damien argued, but grumbling as he went, he returned to the wagon.

  “I just don’t think it would be a good idea for us to take the boy with us,” Tyler said.

  “Everything’s so hard,” Jolie said. “It was hard enough before, and now this comes up.”

  Tyler was surprised. She was usually so upbeat that it was odd to hear her sounding defeated. “Well, we’ll see tomorrow. I’m going to go to sleep. You’d better see if you can get some sleep yourself. You look tired.”

  “I guess we’re all tired. Not as tired as we will be, though. We still have a ways to go. Good night, Tyler.”

  Tyler watched as she picked a grassy spot and rolled up in her blanket. He continued poking idly at the fire, thinking about Antoine’s predicament. Finally he sighed deeply and tried to get comfortable on the ground. It wasn’t easy to calm his thoughts, though, and it was a long while before he dropped off into a fitful sleep.

  ****

  By the time breakfast was prepared and consumed the next morning, Damien, Rochelle, and Yolande had all made a plea to take Antoine along with them. Antoine himself said nothing but watched carefully. Finally it was Jolie who called Tyler aside and said, “What do you think? Have you changed your mind?”

  “I feel sorry for the boy, but we’ve got too much on our plate.”

  Jolie bit her lip, then said, “Whatever you think, Tyler.”

  Tyler turned and walked over to where Antoine was standing. He saw that the boy was looking at him with anxiety and knew that he wasn’t going to take it well. “Son, I’m sorry, but we just can’t take you with us.”

  “Why not? I won’t be any trouble.”

  Tyler saw that there was no way to reason with the boy, so he said firmly, “It sounds hard to you maybe, but I just can’t take on the responsibility of another child. I’m sorry.”

  At once Rochelle said, “Please, Monsieur Winslow—let him go!”

  Damien added, “He won’t be any trouble. Please let him go with us!”

  “There’s no use arguing,” Tyler said. “It’s going to be hard enough without taking someone else. You can stay with us today, Antoine, but you can’t go with us all the way to the coast.”

  Antoine’s face reddened but he said nothing. Tyler saw that the other youngsters were looking at him with expressions that left no doubt as to their feelings. “Come on, let’s get going,” he said roughly.

  ****

  Antoine did not speak to Tyler or Jolie all day, and that evening he suddenly trotted down the road and then disappeared in the distance.

  “He’s a strange boy, isn’t he?”

  “Yes, he is. Have you ever known a gypsy before?”

  “No. I’ve seen them, of course, but I’ve never known any personally. Have you?”

  “No. They’ve got a pretty bad reputation.”

  “Hitler hates them. He’s had them killed in every country he’s taken over, along with Jews and others.”

  They continued in silence for a good distance.

  “We’re going to have to stop soon for the night,” Tyler said. “I don’t know where that boy has gotten to. Maybe he’s decided he doesn’t want to go with us after all.”

  But this proved not to be the case, for not ten minutes after they had stopped, Damien cried out, “Look, here comes Antoine!”

  “What’s that he’s got in his hand?” Jolie asked, shading her eyes against the setting sun.

  “It’s chickens,” Damien said. “He’s got two chickens.”

  They watched as Antoine approached carrying a dead chicken in each hand. “I brought supper,” he said tonelessly.

  “Where’d you get those chickens, Antoine?” Rochelle asked.

  “From a farm.”

  “Did you buy them?” she asked.

  “Buy ’em? No. I just took ’em.”

  “Why, that’s stealing!” Rochelle exclaimed.

  “If they don’t keep their chickens locked up better, they don’t deserve to keep ’em.”

  “Next time, Antoine,” Jolie said quickly, “we’ll buy the chickens, as well as any other supplies.”

  “But that would be silly. They were right there and nobody was looking.”

  “I don’t think now’s the time to discuss ethics with Antoine,” Tyler said. “Let’s get these chickens dressed. We got anything to fry them in?”

  “Fry chickens? We don’t fry chickens,” Jolie said.

  “We do in America. If we have some grease, I’ll show you what good fried chicken tastes like.”

  ****

  The fried-chicken cook leaned back, nibbling on one of the drumsticks. “Not as good as Aunt Maude used to make, but not bad, considering what we had to work with. Wish I could have made some biscuits to go with the chicken.”

  “It was good,” Jolie agreed. “Where’d you learn to cook?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. I’m not really a cook,” Tyler said. “I think I just watched my mom cook and some of my aunts. Men don’t cook much in America.”

  “They do in France. Some of the best cooks are men,” Jolie said, then gave him a sharp look. “You’re not one of those men who are afraid to do women’s work, are you?”

  “Why, you just saw me cook, didn’t you? Of course I’m not afraid of women’s work.”

  Rochelle had been sitting beside Antoine during the meal, and they had been sharing a quiet conversation.

  “Tell me what it’s like to be a Jew, Rochel
le,” Antoine asked as he licked his fingers, one after the other.

  She laughed aloud. “That’s a hard question to answer. What’s it like to be a gypsy?”

  “It’s pretty bad sometimes.”

  “Why is it bad?”

  “Well, people think we’re thieves.”

  Rochelle giggled. “Aren’t you?”

  Antoine looked at her with disgust. “Stealing two little chickens does not make me a thief. People think we steal horses or anything that’s not tied down. That’s not so. Like I told you before, my pa’s a blacksmith. He works for a living. He wants me to be one too, but I’m not gonna be a blacksmith when I grow up.”

  “What are you going to be?”

  “I’ve got something on my mind, but I’m not telling anybody about it.”

  “I do too,” Rochelle said, “but I won’t tell you what it is if you won’t tell me.”

  Antoine grinned. “I’ll bet I find out what you’re going to be before you find out what I’m going to be.”

  “I’m gonna be a race car driver,” Damien said as he joined the conversation. “It’s not a secret either. I don’t care who knows it.”

  Jolie was enjoying watching the young people talk, and finally she said, “What’ll we have tonight, a song or a story?”

  “Let’s have a story,” Damien said.

  “No, I want a song,” Yolande said. She loved music and could never get enough of the songs that Jolie sang for them.

  “How about if we have both,” Jolie suggested. Without waiting for an answer, she starting singing an old French folk song, and when she was done she said, “All right, it’s your turn to tell a story, Tyler.”

  “All right. I’ll tell you about the time I had a run-in with a lion in Colorado.”

  “There aren’t any lions in America. They’re all in Africa.”

  “That’s not exactly right, Jolie. There are mountain lions out west in America. They’re not as big as the kind in Africa, but they could make a good meal of you, I suppose.” He plunged into the tale of how he had gone hiking with a friend in Colorado during a school vacation and ended up killing a mountain lion when it had cornered his friend.

  The children listened in amazement as he built up the suspense in his story.

  When he was through, Jolie said, “That was quite a story. Now let’s read an incredible story from the Bible.” She pulled her Bible out and read the story from the Old Testament of the three young Hebrew men who chose to be thrown into the fiery furnace rather than obey Nebuchadnezzar.

  After she finished the story, Antoine asked, “Is that true or just made up?”

  “Why, it’s in the Bible,” Damien said. “Of course it’s true. You ought to know that.”

  “You mean they got thrown into a furnace and they didn’t burn up?” Antoine was incredulous. “Why not?”

  “Because God kept them from burning up,” Jolie said.

  Antoine fell silent as he considered this. “I don’t know why the Germans want to kill all the gypsies and all the Jews. What’s the matter with those Germans?”

  “It’s not all of them,” Jolie said quietly. “There are many good Christian Germans, but they got the wrong man in as leader. And the Germans have a bad habit of listening to strong men no matter who they are.”

  “Do the Germans kill Jews and gypsies in America, Monsieur Winslow?” Rochelle asked.

  “No, they don’t, and they know better than to try it. Why, we wouldn’t put up with it for a minute!”

  “Why don’t you stop ’em from doing it in France?” Antoine demanded.

  “I think it’s going to come to that, Antoine. Americans are a bit slow to get started, but we’ll be in this war before long, and I think that’ll be what puts an end to Hitler’s madness.”

  Yolande said, “I want another song.”

  “You always want another song,” Jolie said. “Come along. Get in your blanket, and then I’ll sing you a song.”

  “Bedtime for everybody,” Tyler said. “We’ve got to get an early start in the morning.”

  “I want to go with you,” Antoine said suddenly. “I can get food for us and keep a look out for the Nazis.”

  “We settled that earlier, Antoine,” Tyler said gently. “We just can’t take you.”

  Antoine glared at him, then turned away and stood stiffly staring into the darkness. Rochelle went to him and said something, but he didn’t answer.

  “Everyone get to bed,” Tyler said. He wished the boy had kept going when he had left earlier that day, and he could see trouble ahead. Tyler ignored the protests of the youngsters, and soon they were all in their usual sleeping places.

  After Jolie had given Marie a bottle and rocked her to sleep, she came to sit beside him. “Are we going to make it, Tyler?”

  “Why, of course we are!” Tyler looked at her, noting the fatigue in her features. He was a little shocked, for it was the first sign of weakness he’d seen in her. “You’re just tired, but you’ll feel better tomorrow.”

  “I hope so. But it all seems so impossible.”

  “Nothing’s impossible with God.” He smiled. “That was what my folks said over and over. I guess it didn’t mean much to me then, but it does now.” He ran his hand through his hair, then added, “Funny how things like that stick with you. I find myself wishing I’d been a better son—like my brother.”

  “It’s never too late to start. Maybe the purpose of this whole ordeal is to give you a new start.”

  “I suppose that’s possible. But what a way to get a new start!”

  Jolie picked a leaf off the ground and slowly began tearing it apart. “I . . . I’m glad you’re here, Tyler. It would be hard to be alone.”

  “Two are better than one. The Bible says that, I think.” She didn’t answer and he asked, “Are you sleepy?”

  “No, not a bit.”

  “Come on. I’ll make some coffee and tell you the story of my life.”

  Jolie smiled at him and took a deep breath. “All right, then if we’re not sleepy yet I’ll tell you all my adventures too.”

  Long after the children were asleep, they sat beside the fire talking in hushed voices. Jolie had been worried, but Tyler had a way of telling stories that was amusing, and she started feeling better.

  “Thanks for the stories, Tyler. For some reason I’m a little more hopeful about the outcome of this whole affair now.” She stood up. “Good night. Next time I’ll cheer you up.”

  Tyler watched as she went to her blanket and rolled up in it. He looked into the fire for a long time before finally lying down, but he still couldn’t sleep.

  What in the world brought me to this place, he wondered. I came to France to study art, not to get into a dangerous cross-country trek with a beautiful woman and several orphans.

  He tried to will himself to sleep but finally gave up. He opened his eyes and stared up at the stars. They spread across the sky like diamonds, and he thought of how much his father loved the stars. He had even made a primitive telescope, and Tyler remembered how the two of them had stayed up late many nights, looking at the sky. He could almost hear the sound of his father’s voice naming off the stars.

  Well, Dad, I wish we could do it again! The thought stayed with him, and he lay there naming the stars until he fell asleep.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  “Get Off the Road!”

  The tension in the group was even more pronounced the next morning as they all sat near the fire eating breakfast. Antoine did not speak a word but sullenly sat off to one side. When Rochelle said, “Come on, Antoine, and eat breakfast,” he just glared at her.

  “Don’t be angry, Antoine,” Jolie said. “It’s just that—”

  “Who needs you? I can get to England by myself.” Before anyone could speak he stood up and ran away.

  Rochelle called after him, “Come back, Antoine!”

  He stopped and shouted back, “I hope the Nazis get you all!” before sprinting down the dirt road.

&n
bsp; “I’m sorry he took it like that,” Tyler said.

  “I feel sorry for him,” Yolande said.

  “So do I, but we can’t take everybody.”

  “He’s not everybody,” she said. “He’s just one little boy.”

  Rochelle was looking at Jolie with a hardness in her face that Jolie had not seen. Rochelle burst out, “Would Jesus have done a thing like that?”

  Jolie was completely silenced by the question. She looked helplessly at Rochelle, who got up and walked away, her back stiff.

  “Let’s get everything packed up and get going,” Tyler said hurriedly. It was a bad situation and he hated it. As he went to hitch up Crazy, Jolie approached him.

  “I think we should have taken him, Tyler.”

  “I’m starting to feel the same way. Maybe we’ll catch up with him on the road or maybe I should run ahead and catch him.”

  “No, don’t do that. I don’t want to be left alone with the children.”

  “I made a big mess out of the whole situation, Jolie. I’m an expert at doing things like that.”

  She gave him a sad smile and left him to hook up the wagon. When everybody was ready, he said, “Rochelle, why don’t you drive for a while. I feel like walking.”

  Rochelle did not answer, but she got up on the seat and took the reins when he handed them to her. “Yolande, you get in with her,” Jolie said. She lifted the girl up and then took the baby from Damien.

  Rochelle had become a good driver, and she slapped the lines on Crazy’s back. She sat stone-faced with her back straight as the horse stepped out.

  “Are you mad at me, Rochelle?” Yolande asked.

  “Why, of course I’m not mad at you. Why would you think that?”

  “You look mad.”

  “That’s because I think we should have taken Antoine with us to England.”

  “I think so too.”

  Usually as they walked along or rode in the wagon, there was a great deal of joking and laughing and talking. But it was very quiet this morning. The sun rose and began to heat the earth, and Jolie walked on the opposite side of the wagon from Tyler. She was occupied with the scene that had taken place during breakfast and had seldom felt as unhappy with her choice as she felt this day. She went over and over it again and found no consolation in the way that it had turned out. More than once she looked ahead hopefully, willing Antoine to come back, but there was no sign of him.