From the Ashes of War, page 21
part #3 of The War Trilogy Series
He shook his head and backed away from the open door.
“Jacob? Is there a problem?” Danny asked after helping Anya and her father into the back seat.
“I don’t like guns.”
“What?”
He shook his head. “I don’t like guns! You sit there. I’ll sit in back with Papa.”
A moment of silence passed before Joey laughed out loud. “It’s just an expression, Jacob. Riding shotgun means you get to sit in the front passenger seat. There aren’t any guns or shotguns in the car. I promise!”
Jacob didn’t look convinced. Danny patted his shoulder. “It’s okay. He’s right. There are no guns here. You have my word.”
He slowly approached the car then climbed in cautiously.
Joey stretched out his hand for a shake. “Put ’er there, pal. Forget the whole gun thing. You can be my co-pilot. Like Danny was in the war. Did he tell you he flew airplanes?”
Jacob shook his hand then turned to face Danny who was settling in the back seat next to Anya, her father on the other side.
“Is that true?”
“Yes it is. I flew B-17s out of our air base in England. Have you ever seen a B-17?”
He shook his head.
“I can show you some pictures at home. They’re massive planes. That’s why they’re called the Flying Fortress.”
“At the end of the war, hundreds of them flew low to the ground over my country in The Netherlands,” Anya added. “People were dying of starvation and illness. So the planes dropped crates filled with food and medicine.”
“Without landing?”
“Yes, they flew so low to us, we could see the eyes of the crew members. It was a sight I’ll never forget,” she said. She glanced toward her father, wondering if he knew about the Chowhound missions, but his attention was focused out the side window.
“Did they fall on people? The crates?”
“A few,” she answered. “We had all been told to stand far back from the drop zones, which had been marked by big white crosses on the ground. But some people were too hungry, too eager to eat, and they ran out there.”
“Did they die?”
“A few. Not many, but some,” she answered. “But those food drops saved us. I remember the first bite of chocolate. I thought I must have surely died and gone to heaven, it tasted so sweet in my mouth.”
Jacob stared at her, and she wondered what he was thinking. Visualizing the people crushed by the crates falling from the sky? Or maybe he was thinking about the sheer joy of chocolate on the tongue.
“Do you like chocolate?” Anya asked.
He looked at Papa whose focus was still out the window, then said, “No.”
“You don’t like chocolate?” Joey asked. “Everybody likes chocolate. You ever had some?”
“No.”
“Never?”
“No.”
“Then we’ll just have to do something about that. Mom keeps a tin of them in the cupboard. Boy, are you in for a treat.”
“Literally,” Danny quipped.
Jacob twisted his head to look out his window. “What’s that up there?”
Danny followed the line of his vision. “You mean the train tracks?”
“Yes. Why are there train tracks up in the sky?” He raised himself on his knees and pressed his nose against the window.
“We call it the El, short for the elevated,” Joey said. “See, Chicago’s so big with so many cars and trucks and busses all congested in traffic, they had to put the railroad tracks up above.”
“Ever been on one?” Jacob asked, his head twisting at an awkward angle to keep an eye on the tracks.
“Sure, lots of times. We’ll take you sometime.”
He slowly turned his total attention to Joey, a trace of wonder on his face. “You mean it? You’ll take me?”
“Sure!”
“When?”
“Whenever you want to go.”
Danny felt Anya’s elbow in his ribs and found her smiling at the exchange. He gave her a wink, and for the first time since they left the New York harbor, he felt the slightest ray of hope this might somehow work out after all.
He sure hoped so.
The rest of the way home, Jacob’s attention stayed glued out his window, with a frequent, rhythmic habit of peeking over his shoulder to check on Papa. Danny listened as Anya spoke to her father in Dutch from time to time, pointing out this, describing that, and on occasion, giving his knee a gentle pat to get his attention. He looked at her and smiled, and for now that seemed enough.
“Here we are, ladies and gentlemen,” Joey announced, pulling into the driveway. “Home sweet home. You all go on inside, and I’ll bring in your luggage.”
“Are you sure?” Danny asked as they got out of the car. “Let me help.”
“No way,” Joey said quietly as he raised the trunk. “Anya needs all the help she can get in there. You go.”
“Right.”
Anya took Huub’s elbow. “Father, let me—”
“He’s with me,” Jacob snapped, pushing between Anya and her father. “I’ll walk him in.”
Anya bristled, but once again kept her mouth shut.
“Thank you, Jacob,” Danny said, placing his hand at the small of Anya’s back. “We’ll be right behind you.”
He caught the roll of her eyes, and realized she did that a lot these days. An involuntary reaction to the frustration of putting up with Jacob and his annoying tendencies? He hoped it wasn’t something he’d have to get used to.
“Come in! Come in!” Betty said, opening the front door. Her eyes widened when she noticed the boy with Anya’s father. “Well, well, how nice! Who have we here?”
Danny caught his mother’s eyes. “As it happens, Anya has brought home not one, but two blessings. Mom, this is Jacob. Jacob, this is my mother, Betty McClain.”
She knelt down eye level with him. “Hello there, Jacob. Aren’t you a sweet surprise on a summer’s day? I’m so very happy to meet you.”
As Jacob slowly inched closer to Huub, Anya stepped up to join them, greeting Betty with a hug as she stood back up.
“Hello, Betty.”
“My dear, it’s so wonderful to have you home again.”
As Anya stepped back, Betty turned her attention to Huub.
“And this must be your father. Hello, Mr. Versteeg, I’m so happy to finally meet you.” She started toward him, so used to hugging everyone, but stopped when he and Jacob both stepped back. Instead, she held out her hand to Huub. “So lovely to have both you and Jacob here with us.”
Huub made no response; his hands constantly reaching for Jacob’s, and his eyes clouded with confusion.
“Well, then, I’m sure you’ve had quite a journey. Please come in,” she said, opening the screened door.
Huub shuffled along with Jacob practically attached to his side as they crossed the threshold into the house.
“Come along back to the kitchen,” Betty said, leading them. “We’ll have our lunch a little later, but I’ve made a cinnamon coffee cake to welcome you home, and a fresh pot of coffee, of course.” She half-turned to face them as she kept walking. “Jacob, I have milk in the icebox if you’d like some.”
“No, I drink coffee. With lots of cream. That’s how Papa likes it.”
“Well then. Coffee it is.”
Halfway down the hall, Jacob stopped suddenly, coming to an awkward halt. Huub bumped into him causing Anya, only a step behind, to stumble to a stop.
“What is it?” she asked.
Jacob studied her for a moment, biting the outer edge of his lip, then turned back searching for something. Or, as it turned out, someone. Pulling Huub back toward the door with him, he met Joey who carrying their bags.
“Hey buddy. Did you forget something?”
He shook his head then crooked his finger, wiggling it, beckoning Joey to lean toward him.
“Okay, let me put these down first.” He set their suitcases at the foot of the stairs and turned back around. “Now, what can I do for you?”
The finger wiggled again, so Joey bent over. Jacob cupped his hand and whispered in Joey’s ear.
“Sure. It’s in the kitchen. You all go ahead, and I’ll be right behind you. I won’t forget.”
Danny and Anya both shot him puzzled looks.
“Isn’t it obvious?”
They shook their heads.
“One word: chocolate. And I’m a man of my word, so I promised to get some for our young guest.”
They chuckled as they made their way into the kitchen. In all the commotion, Danny stopped when he noticed his mother helping Huub into the chair at the head of the table.
He locked eyes with Joey. Dad’s chair?
“Now, Mr. Versteeg—”
“His name is Papa,” Jacob said as he took the seat next to Huub. “He likes to be called Papa. NOT Mr. Ver—whatever.”
Betty paused, startled at his tone. “Oh. Well … all right.”
Anya sat down beside him. “Jacob, please remember to mind your manners when speaking to adults.”
He glared at her. “What are manners?”
“Remember when we talked about them on the ship?”
“No.” He turned to find Joey pouring himself a cup of coffee at the kitchen counter. “Where is it?”
“Oh, right. The tin of chocolates. Would you—”
“Joey, hold on a minute.” Anya gave Jacob her full attention, their faces just inches apart. “We talked about manners and how it’s important to speak politely to others, especially adults. Do you remember?”
“No.”
Danny noticed the little vein on the side of Anya’s temple throbbing when the boy wouldn’t make eye contact with her. He started to say something, but figured it was best to let her handle it.
“Well, then, we’ll go over it again later this evening. But for now, I’d like you to apologize to Danny’s mother for using such an unkind tone of voice. It’s fine for you to let her know what you call Papa, but there’s no need to be rude. Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
“Do you have something to say to Danny’s mother?”
He looked to Papa, then to Danny, then Joey—to everyone but Anya. Finally, he huffed and said, “I’m sorry, Danny’s mother.”
“Apology accepted,” she answered. “But why don’t you call me Grandmama. Would that be easier?”
“But you’re not my oma.”
“Is that German?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“I know I’m not your oma, Jacob. Maybe we should wait and talk about that later.”
Jacob look bewildered then turned back to Joey. “Now?”
“Oh, right. So it turns out Jacob has never tasted chocolate before. Can you believe that, Mom?”
“Never tasted chocolate? My goodness, we’ll have to do something about that.”
“We certainly will.” Joey opened the kitchen cabinet and reached up on the top shelf for the round tin. “But these aren’t just any chocolates, Jacob. These are world-famous Fannie May Chocolates, made right here in Chicago.”
When Joey lifted the lid and removed the layer of paper to show the variety of chocolates, Jacob let out a long, hushed wow … earning a round of chuckles at his reaction.
Joey reached for one. “Since it’s your first taste, I suggest you start with the pure milk chocolate. Here. Have this one.”
First he sniffed it, then a tiny lick, then he took a bite and chewed slowly, slowly. Then, as his eyes closed, he groaned with pleasure. “Mmm.”
They laughed as he continued to chew, his eyes smiling even as his mouth slowly worked the confection.
Danny glanced at Anya and met her eyes. Even wordless, he knew she was asking the same questions he’d been wondering himself.
Can we do this? Will we be all right? Will we survive this?
With a wink, he mouthed one simple word.
Yes.
Jacob reached for another one.
“Go easy there, buddy,” Joey warned as he reached for the tin. You don’t want to spoil your appetite. Besides, don’t you want a piece of Mom’s cinnamon coffee cake?”
He shook his head, eyes still fixed on the tin of chocolates. “Just one more?”
“Oh, I guess one more won’t hurt. What kind? How about this one with chocolate and caramel?”
He shook his head again, reached for the same kind he’d just savored, then turned and handed it to Huub.
“Papa, you’ve got to try this. It’s the most wonderful feeling in your mouth. All soft and smooth on your tongue. Go on. Try it.”
Huub glanced at the candy in his hand then looked at Jacob, a slow smile sliding into the creases of his whiskered face. He patted the boy’s cheek with his other hand and gave him a quick nod.
“You’re welcome,” Jacob said quietly. “Now, go on. Taste it.”
Huub did as he was told, placing the chocolate on his tongue and mimicking Jacob’s eye-closing reaction, then tilting his head side to side to side in pleasure. He made no sound but silently clapped his hands with joy, earning another round of cheers. When Jacob gave him a pat on the back, Huub leaned over to rest his forehead against the boy’s, as the two shared a smile.
Anya reached for Danny’s hand beneath the table, then entwined their fingers as she looked at him, her gaze warm with emotion. Something special had just happened here at this table. They’d both felt it.
Something that had nothing to do with Fannie May chocolates.
34
Jacob reached for a third piece of coffee cake. Anya started to stop him, but Betty caught her eye, nodding her approval. She didn’t have the heart to intervene, knowing how Betty loved having folks enjoy her baking.
But no more, Anya mouthed.
Betty smiled, helping him move the square slice to his plate. “Better save room for lunch, Jacob. We wouldn’t want to spoil your appetite.”
“You keep saying that. What does that mean?”
“Spoiling your appetite?” Betty asked.
He nodded as he took another bite.
“It means if you eat too much now, you won’t have room for lunch,” Anya answered.
He studied her, his eyes still registering confusion. Only then did she realize the concept would be totally lost on someone who’d been hungry for so many years.
“Let’s just say that’s enough for now,” Betty said, moving the pedestal cake dish to the kitchen counter.
Anya had noticed his tendency to overeat since their first days together, and recognized the common trait for those who’d known prolonged hunger. Her father seemed satisfied with smaller portions. But Jacob was a bottomless pit. It occurred to her he wasn’t as emaciated as most of the DPs she’d seen at the Amersfoort camp, and assumed his job at the bakery had helped put some weight on him. She wondered how many stolen pastries and pies and loaves of bread he’d eaten and hoarded behind the baker’s back.
Father, on the other hand, remained much too thin. She estimated a loss of thirty or forty pounds, maybe even fifty off his once-tall frame. And while he’d never been heavy, he’d always loved to eat. Now his clothes hung on him, his posture more stooped.
The chill wafted over her again. The same chill that always slid down her spine when her thoughts edged too near the images of torture and deprivation that took place in the camps; stories and photographs still coming to light even now. And always, the haunting questions that came with them. Had her father endured such pain and suffering—
Stop. Block the thoughts. He’s here now. That’s all that matters.
The conversation continued around the table. As she tried to tune back in, a commotion to her left caught her eye.
“Jacob, please don’t lick your fingers,” Anya said. “I’ve told you twice now.”
He ignored her, licking the last of the powdered sugar off his fingertips with great flair in unfiltered defiance.
“Jacob?”
Betty handed him his napkin. “Might be easier to use this.”
In the half hour they’d been home, she appreciated Betty’s efforts to keep the conversation light in spite of the occasional sparks that flew between Anya and Jacob. Never had she been more grateful for her mother-in-law’s kind demeanor and thoughtful ways. She knew her presence would help balance the tension that Jacob’s presence had already created in their home.
She also knew it would require every ounce of her own patience to endure the situation.
Unfortunately, patience wasn’t one of her virtues.
She was anxious to talk to Danny privately about their options. Surely they could find an agency that took care of orphans, even war orphans from other countries. A city as big as Chicago was bound to have a respectable children’s home. Yes, it would be difficult at first. More than likely Jacob would go out kicking and screaming and biting just like he did that night at Amersfoort.
But once he was settled elsewhere, they would be able to focus on Father, and help him overcome whatever trauma had changed him, snuffing out his memory and stealing his words. If he needed psychological help, they would find it. If he needed emotional help, they would find that as well. Whatever it took.
But none of that would happen if the boy remained. It was as if his presence consumed even the air around him, leaving the rest of them to gasp for a single breath. And in doing so, he constantly drew their attention away from Father. That, more than anything, frustrated her.
She looked at the boy, still seated beside her at the table, his hand on her father’s.
The knot of jealousy inside her tightened.
Joey stood and gathered their plates. “Hey Jacob, do you like dogs?”
“Yeah. Why?”
“No one told you about Sophie?”
“Who’s Sophie?”
Joey pinned Danny and Anya with a look. “I can’t believe you two. How could you not tell him about Sophie?”
“We had a few other things going on, Joey,” Danny teased with a yawn.
“No excuse.” Joey bracketed two fingers on his lips and blew an ear-shattering whistle. “Hey Sophie! Where are you, girl?”
“Millie told me about that whistle.” Anya rubbed her ears. “I wish you’d warn us before you blow like that. I think you shattered my eardrum.”
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