The Upstairs Room Page 8

  We laughed, Johan loudest of all.

  “I wish you could stay down here this afternoon,” Opoe said. “It sure would be nice.”

  “Maybe next year for your birthday, Ma, they can come from Winterswijk and spend the day with us.”

  “Johan, do you really think we might be free by then?” Sini asked anxiously.

  “I got my doubts. The Russians are doing fine in Russia. I know. So are the Allies in North Africa. In Russia the Germans are killed in the snow; in Africa, in the hot deserts.” Johan grinned. “Boy, the Italians must be mad. Here Hitler talked them into coming into the war with’m, and all they’ve gotten out of it is a mess. Lots of them are dead in Africa, too.” He shook his head. “I don’t know what to say. Damn.”

  Slowly we went back upstairs. Someone had opened the gate.

  Opoe hadn’t told us that the Hanninks would be there, too. They came upstairs to see us, as if we were giving the party. “Hi.”

  “You know what we brought Opoe?” Mrs. Hannink asked. “You’ll never guess. Cologne.”

  We all laughed. Opoe would put the bottle away in some closet or throw it out. Bah, new-fangled junk, she would say. So funny. What did Mr. Hannink ask? Did we ever hear from Father and Rachel?

  “You know,” Sini said, “Rachel is staying with a minister about forty miles from here. Sometimes she writes to Johan. Father does, too. But the letters tell us very little so that if someone opens them, he won’t learn anything. And Johan doesn’t want them to write very often because the mailman never used to bring letters before. People might become suspicious.”

  Mr. Hannink nodded. “Johan is right. Well, we have to go back downstairs before anyone else comes. It’s a pity you can’t be there. Opoe sits on a straight chair the whole afternoon, hands folded in her lap. And everybody keeps telling her that she should sit in the easy chair. ‘Pooh’ is all she says, ‘not me. I can take it easy soon enough, when I’m bedridden.’she has been saying this for years, and every year she looks better and younger.”

  “Was Hendrik her husband?” Sini asked.

  “Yes,” Mrs. Hannink said, but there was no more time to talk. The gate had opened again.

  Sini and I sat near the stove, listening. How long would all that company stay? “Probably until milking time,” Sini said.

  My God, that was hours away.

  Why were they laughing so much. At Opoe? We should go downstairs now as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

  “Sini?” But Sini didn’t even answer me. She was too busy staring at the wall. Oh, hello, everybody, we’d say. How are you? We decided to come, too. You seemed to be having such a good time. Yes, Dientje, we’d love some tea. Thank you. And nobody would look at us as if we were special. Special.

  I bent over the stove and spat on the lid. I liked the noise it made.

  “Poor Rachel,” Sini said, “being all by herself.”

  It was getting dark, and the company was still in the good room, laughing. What was that? Was somebody coming up the stairs?

  “Fui-fui, how tired can a person get!” Opoe came in. “It’s nice and quiet up here,” she whispered. “All that smoke downstairs. Bah. Spectacle every year. Well, not that many more years.”

  Opoe lifted her apron and stuck her hand into a pocket in her dress. “I brought you some cake. I had a good time sneaking a piece into my dress. It’s not bad. Dientje baked it herself. Well, I’ve got to go back, sit on that chair some more.”

  “How much longer, Opoe?”

  “Who knows with these people? They’re apt to stay too long. Bah!”

  Sighing, Opoe went back downstairs. Contentedly we bit off small pieces of the cake. What did Opoe mean by not bad? It was very good. The company would leave soon. They wouldn’t stay all night.

  It was getting cold in the room. Without making any noise, Sini took the lid off the stove. One by one I took coals out of the scuttle and plopped them into the stove. After the tenth coal Sini eased the lid back on. No sense putting in more, the day was almost over.

  7

  I STRAINED my ears. Clip-clop, clip-clop. What was that noise outside? The little Groothuis boy? Where was he? In front of his house? Clip-clop, clip-clop. Jumping rope? Did he jump as high as I used to? I looked at the window. I wanted to see, not just hear. I got up. I took one step, and then another one. Sini wasn’t paying any attention. There. I had passed the safe side of the bed. Another two steps, and I’d be able to see him. Clip-clop. He must be jumping high, because he came down hard.

  “Annie, have you lost your mind? Come back.”

  I did, startled. “Why did you yell at me? You scared me.”

  Had I forgotten, Sini asked, what would happen if somebody saw me?

  No, no, I hadn’t. But what was so terrible about Poland? I stood in front of Sini. “Tell me, how often could they beat you?”

  “Very often,” she said.

  “I wouldn’t care. Really. Sini, you hear that?”

  I stamped my foot. From downstairs Dientje called, “For God’s sake, girls, be quiet.”

  He probably couldn’t jump as high as Frits could.

  Frits who?

  “Who did this? What an awful thing to do. In all my life I haven’t been this mad.” Opoe stormed into our room. Furiously she looked from Sini to me. “Come with me. I want to show you something, something terrible.”

  We followed her to the back bedroom. “But, Opoe, we’re not allowed in there as long as the man’s building the air-raid shelter.”

  “He’s not here this afternoon.” She pushed us inside. “I want you to look at this.” The bottom drawer of the chest was open. War and Peace was lying in it. So? Dientje was going to take it back in a day or two.

  “Who put that book there?”

  “I did, Opoe,” I said.

  “Look what you put it on. Don’t you have eyes? The only thing I still have left of my mother’s.”

  I looked. Underneath the book was a lace cap. Part of it was pleated. “You mean that, Opoe?”

  “Yes, that. What else? That cap. Never has anybody done anything like this to me before.”

  “But, Opoe, I didn’t know.”

  “What’s there to know? Couldn’t you see? I don’t know if I can ever forgive you.”

  “Opoe, I’m sure she didn’t mean to,” Sini said.

  Opoe didn’t seem to hear. She bent down and took the book off the cap. With a disgusted look on her face, she pushed the book into my hands. “Here. Such a heavy book it had to be, too.”

  “Opoe, I’m sorry.” I had trouble keeping the tears out of my voice. What a miserable day.

  “I don’t care. You’ve ruined my cap.” Opoe seemed to have trouble with her voice, too.

  “What’s going on?” Dientje started talking as she came up the stairs.

  “That little one put the book you got for them on top of my cap. Why didn’t she look where she put it? Now it’s ruined.”

  “Come, show me. Maybe we can fix it.”

  The cap wasn’t broken or anything. What was wrong with it? “I told Opoe I was sorry.”

  “I know you didn’t mean to. Now, let’s see.” Dientje pushed at it, smoothed it. “I’ll press the pleats. Then it’ll look all right. You really didn’t have to make such a fuss. My God, you’ve had that thing for so long. Mother, can’t you see she’s sorry? Give her a kiss, Annie, and she won’t be angry anymore.”

  Hesitantly I approached Opoe. But she walked away.

  “Anybody home? Hoo-oo, I’m coming upstairs. It’s me.”

  Dini Hannink had come to see us? But why today? Opoe was angry. I was miserable. What did Dini want? She had come to warn us, she said. “The Germans are planning a house-to-house search tonight. They’re looking for an underground worker who they think is hiding somewhere in Usselo.”

  The man had broken into an office in Enschede where food coupons were kept, Dini explained. He was going to distribute them to people who were hiding Jews, but somebody had betr
ayed him. Abruptly she left. There was someone else she had to warn. What would we have to do now?

  “I wish Johan was home,” Dientje complained.

  “What a situation,” Opoe said. “Let’s have an early supper.”

  “What’s that got to do with it?” Dientje’s voice cracked. “Where’s Johan? I don’t want the soldiers to come when he isn’t home. I’m scared.”

  “What d’you mean, where’s Johan? It’s Thursday. He’s in Boekelo, of course. Dientje, keep your wits together. Just because Dini.… ”

  Sini and I went to our own room. It was not dark yet and wouldn’t be for another hour. Now Dientje was angry, too.

  When Johan came home, he said, “Don’t worry about the search. That’s nothing. Now we’ll show the Germans what a fine hiding place you’ve got.”

  But we’d have to spend the night in it, he said, so that Sini’s mattress wouldn’t be around. They might rush in without warning.

  “Johan, the girls will choke in that place. All night. What’s the matter with you?” Opoe sounded angry.

  “Ma, we won’t close it up. We’ll have enough time to put the board in and arrange all the stuff on the shelf.”

  “But, Johan, they can’t stand up all night.”

  “Ma, they can sit down. For one night they’ll be all right.”

  “What if they don’t find the person they’re looking for?” Sini asked.

  Johan scratched his head.

  Then what? Would we never go to bed again?

  “Tomorrow night we’ll all go to sleep. Regardless.”

  “But, Johan,” Dientje protested.

  “I’m already such a poor sleeper,” Opoe said from her chair, “and with this I might just as well not bother going to bed.”

  “Nonsense, Ma, you always say you can’t sleep, but, boy, do you snore! You can’t tell me you snore sitting up awake.”

  “I don’t snore, either. Do I, Dientje?”

  “Johan’s right.”

  “Girls, did you ever hear me?”

  I didn’t dare say anything. What if she got angry again?

  “It’s hard to tell, Opoe, with all those airplanes flying overhead at night. Maybe that’s what Johan and Dientje have you mixed up with.” That was clever of Sini. Opoe looked pleased.

  “They may not start the search until early morning,” Johan said, “when they figure everybody’s asleep. I sure hope they won’t find the girls. Hey, Dientje.” He nudged her with his elbow. “Look at Ma.”

  Opoe was sitting up straight with her arms folded across her stomach, but her head was wobbling. Slowly it sank down until her chin touched her apron. There it stayed for a second. Then her head moved sideways, all the way over to her shoulder. A drop of spittle slowly moved to the corner of her half-open mouth. Would it slide down the side of her chin? No, she sucked it in. Her head jerked up, stayed up for a moment, and started the trip again. Funny, it moved back to the same shoulder.

  “Eh, what did you say, Johan?”

  “Nothing, Ma. I thought you never slept.”

  “I don’t.”

  “Can’t kid us. You’ve got four witnesses.”

  “Johan, I think maybe we should all go to bed. It’s after ten,” Dientje said. “Mother, you go, too.”

  With difficulty Opoe got up from her chair. “Johan, don’t forget to leave the closet door open. We can’t have them die on us.”

  “Oh, Mother.” Dientje seemed annoyed. “They’ll be all right. You’re always worrying about the girls as if Johan and I don’t know what’s what.”

  “Now, if somebody knocks on the door tonight, I’ll go down and let him in,” Johan said, “after Dientje and I close up your hiding place. All you girls have to do then is to be dead quiet. If they open the closet and look around in it, don’t move. If they knock on the walls to see if there’s a space behind them, don’t move.”

  We got in. Johan crouched in front of the closet. “If you need anything call us. You hear? Don’t worry about a thing. You hear?”

  Dientje stuck her hand inside the hole. “That feels like Annie’s leg. Right? Where’s your hand?” She put two round cold things in it… apples. “That’s for when you get hungry. They’re the kind you girls like.”

  We stood and sat. And stood and sat. “Sini, I’m so tired.” I leaned against her. I shouldn’t fall asleep, she said. But it was night, and very dark. Why shouldn’t I sleep? “When are they coming, Sini?”

  She didn’t know, she said. Maybe they had already found the person they were looking for, in which case they wouldn’t come at all. I might be here all night for nothing? “But, Sini … ”

  “Can you say the alphabet backward?” she asked. Animatedly I started reciting. I had never known how hard it was. It would take a long time to do it right.

  “Girls, I’m so worried about you.” Opoe’s voice came from right in front of the hiding place. “Can you really breathe in there? Poor things. Can I get you something?”

  “Maybe something to drink, Opoe.”

  “I’ll go downstairs and make you some tea.”

  “N … m … l … k.” Maybe by the time I got to a, she’d be back. I hurried.

  “Here, stick your hand out. Careful, it’s hot. Whose hand is that? Sini’s?”

  “What time is it, Opoe?” I asked.

  “Little after two. Can you hear the planes in there?”

  “Yes.” I took another sip. “Are you still mad at me?”

  “Eh? Mad? No. I can’t understand how Johan and Dientje can sleep through all this noise. You feel better?”

  “Much, Opoe.” I smiled in the dark.

  We handed her the empty mugs. “Opoe, you’re wonderful,” Sini said.

  “So what good does that do me?” Opoe answered. She moaned and groaned as she got to her feet.

  Now she was going back to bed. She was going to stretch out her legs and lean against a pillow. Bed. The hot tea had made me even sleepier. “Sini, let me sleep.”

  “No.” She pulled me to my feet, pinched me. “You’ve got to stay awake. Annie, I’ll never be able to wake you up if they come. Wait, I’ll teach you a little English. Then, when you go back to school, you’ll be the only one who knows some. Give me your hand: h-a-n-d, hand. These five things are fingers: f-i-n-g-e-r-s, fingers.”

  “How do you say doodmoe in English, Sini?”

  “Dead tired.”

  The night was over, and the soldiers had not come. With stiff sore legs we stumbled over to the bed. Sini took a mirror out of her pocket. I had never seen her face that white. After a fast look at herself, she put the mirror down. Slowly her fingers traced over her eyelids. They were puffed. Then she turned and buried her head in the pillow.

  I picked up the mirror. Was that me? Couldn’t be. I put the mirror under my pillow, away from Sini. I stroked the sheet. Bed.

  It wasn’t fair. Why had Johan asked only Sini to come to the stable with him tonight? Just because she knew something about cows? So what? I hadn’t enjoyed sitting in that closet, either. Was she so special? Dientje didn’t think so.

  “Annie, don’t spoil my good mood.” Sini looked at me pleadingly.

  Why shouldn’t I? I wanted to walk to the stable, too, and back. Even back. I picked up the book I had been reading, the same War and Peace book. When was someone going to take it back and get another one? I opened it anyway, brooding. I wasn’t going to do any math today. That would spoil her mood all right. My heart was beating furiously. I had been right. Her face was already red.

  “Put that book away.”

  I didn’t move.

  “I’m asking you for the last time. Put it away.”

  I didn’t move. I only swallowed nervously. Sini grabbed the book from me. “Give it back,” I said.

  “No. Do your lesson first.”

  “Give it back.” I hunted for the right words. “If you don’t, I won’t speak to you for the rest of the day.” There. I felt better already.

  Maybe I had made a mis
take when I said I wouldn’t talk to Sini all day. It had happened so early. If I had just said for the morning only. No, I had to be reckless.

  Oh, well, Sini didn’t like it either. She probably had a headache. I looked at her. Sure she did. And did it show. Poor thing. She might not even be able to enjoy her outing tonight. Too bad.

  I should’ve remembered how long days were, though. But she had forced me to do something that drastic. Nobody could push me around and not get punished.

  We went to bed without saying good night. Well, at least today was over! But why didn’t Sini say anything? Could I just start talking tomorrow morning? What if we didn’t speak for another whole day? I lifted my head off the pillow. Was that someone crying? It must be Sini. Was she sorry? She should be, pulling my book away, going out.

  I was sick of having lessons all the time. Just because she enjoyed teaching me shouldn’t mean that I had to be her pupil every day. Why didn’t she get somebody else? I wished she’d stop crying, though.

  Noiselessly I sat up and looked over the edge of the bed. It was her all right. Her shoulders were shaking. Maybe I should say good night. I could do it very fast. If it would make her stop.…

  Carefully I climbed out of bed. I shouldn’t think too long about it. “Sini?” I whispered. She sat up and stuck out her arms.

  Funny. I cried, too. Sini was right. What if the Germans had come to the house in the night and found us? They would have taken us away. Sini said they might have separated us, sent us to different concentration camps in different countries. We might never have seen each other again. We couldn’t have told each other how miserable we had been not talking to each other all day. Then what?

  Something was wrong with my legs, Sini said.

  I looked at them. What?

  “You wobble when you walk,” Sini said in an alarmed voice. “Or are you doing it on purpose.”

  “No, of course not.” Wobble?

  “Now stand still and straighten your legs. They’re crooked, Annie.”

  “Sini, they’re not.” They were? How did they get that way?

  “Why didn’t I notice it before. You don’t move around enough. No wonder. Muscles need to be exercised.” Anxiously Sini watched me. After the war my legs could be massaged, she said, but in the meantime I’d have to walk up and down the room. “One hundred times a day.”