Which Way Is Home? Read online

  I CAN FEEL the wind in my hair and hear rolls of thunder in the distance as we leave Hotel Blue Star. Even though I ate breakfast, I feel empty inside as I follow Ruzena into the back of a big black car. The seats are low, so I can hardly see up to the front, but I can tell there’s someone wearing a hat sitting next to the driver. I wonder who he is, but just as I’m about to ask, the driver begins to talk.

  “We will be driving through no-man’s-land,” the driver tells us.

  I lean over to Ruzena. “What’s ‘no-man’s-land’?”

  “Shhh,” she says, jabbing me with her elbow.

  But the driver must’ve heard me, because he explains, “It’s the area around the German border where no one’s allowed to go nowadays. But there are a few villages near it where some elderly folks who were allowed to stay in their homes during the war still live. So as we pass through each village, if we are stopped by the police, you must say we are on the way to visit your aunt or uncle who lives there.”

  He begins to list the names of the villages and the people in each who are supposed to be our relatives if we get stopped—and my heart pounds. How will I ever remember all the things he’s telling us?

  When the driver has finished speaking, I turn to Mama. “What if I say the wrong name to the police and we get caught?” I ask.

  “You just keep calm and quiet and everything will be all right. We’ll be safe in Germany soon,” Mama replies.

  It seems strange to think that Germany’s a place where we’ll be safe now. During the war, it seemed like the scariest place imaginable, but now that Hitler’s dead and the war’s over, I guess I shouldn’t think that anymore. Thinking of Hitler reminds me of Pavel’s jokes, and I smile to myself as I look out the window. The lush green fields and distant hills remind me of the countryside around Roven, and I wish so hard that I was there on my bicycle with my cousins instead of in this car.

  Then a terrifying thought occurs to me, and I lean toward Mama and ask, “What if Mr. Z comes to Roven looking for us and finds out we’re gone? What will happen to Babicka? Will she be safe without us?”

  “Your grandmother will be fine,” Mama says. “She’s been running that farm for a long time. She has Franta and Stepan and many others in the village to help her. Don’t worry.”

  “I just wish she could’ve come with us—actually, I wish we could have stayed,” I whisper. Mama pulls me close and pats my hair but doesn’t say more.

  We drive for another hour or so in silence. I watch Ruzena and wonder what she’s thinking. I’d like to ask her if she’s as scared and worried as I am, but I know she wouldn’t tell me. I know she must be sad to miss performing in Prague. She had just gotten the most beautiful silk dress to wear to her concert. My grandmother’s friend is an artist, and she hand-painted a pattern of apple blossoms onto the skirt. When Ruzena tried it on, everyone marveled at how gorgeous and grown-up she looked.

  People always talk about how beautiful my sister is. They compliment me, too, but I know it’s different. Ruzena and I are both tall for our ages, but that’s where the resemblance stops. She has long, beautiful black hair that she wears pulled up in the most fashionable styles. My hair is light brown and cut in a bob to my chin. Her eyes are dark brown just like Mama’s, and mine are light blue like our father’s. Her cheekbones are high and her features are perfect. My cheeks are round and my skin is rosy. She always has a serious expression, and I’m usually smiling. Maybe when I’m more grown-up, I’ll look more sophisticated and serious too. But probably not.

  Suddenly I feel embarrassed. It seems silly to think about dresses and hair and concerts. But when I think about what’s happening now, my eyes start to water. I roll my pebble between my fingers and focus on slowing my breathing like Babicka taught me in order to calm myself. Maybe thinking about small, silly things isn’t so bad when your world’s full of big troubles.

  The car slows and comes to a stop by the side of the road. I peek out the window, afraid we’ve been stopped by the police. But there’s no one there, just a thick forest on either side of the road.

  The driver gets out and comes around to open the door for my mother, and we follow her out of the car. The person in the hat climbs out of the passenger side, and for a minute my heart pounds with joy because I would recognize that Boy Scout uniform anywhere.

  “Pav—” I start to say, but the name dies in my throat when he turns to face us and my hope is crushed.

  Chapter 15

  HONZA

  THE BOY IS taller and looks older than Pavel, closer to eighteen than fourteen. He’s wearing the standard Boy Scout uniform, but his badges show that he’s reached the highest level of Scouts. He has bright-blue eyes and wavy dark-blond hair. Even I can see how good-looking he is—and I hardly ever pay attention to boys. I know Ruzena thinks so, too, because I see her stand up straighter.

  A man approaches from behind a tree. When Mama shows him her book, he gives a small nod. The driver tells us to hide among the trees, so we follow Mama with the Boy Scout to a thick patch of bushes. We crouch together in silence while the driver and the new man talk near the car. They seem to be arguing, and I’m worried something is wrong. They raise their voices for a minute, and we can hear the new man say, “I’m not the kind of person who leads innocent people into a trap!”

  Trap? What does that mean? Was our driver only pretending to help us and now he’s trying to make this new man turn us in to the Communists? I feel Mama’s body tense next to mine and I wonder what she’s going to do.

  What can we do? Run away? Where would we go?

  We’re in an unfamiliar forest with total strangers. I look over at the Boy Scout. Why is he with us? Is he running just like us, or is he here to trap us and turn us in?

  My heart is pounding so hard, I am sure everyone can hear it.

  Then the driver gets back in the car and pulls away. We have no choice now. We have to go on.

  The new man motions for us to come out of hiding and says in a hushed voice, “I’m your guide. You’ll be traveling with me to the German border. It’s only about three or four miles from here, but the terrain can be difficult.” He eyes my mother’s shoes. “So it may take us a few hours to get there. You must follow me as quietly as possible, and when I do this”—he moves his right hand in a slight waving motion down by his leg—“you must hide behind the trees as well as you can.”

  We all nod in understanding.

  Then the Boy Scout leans in and whispers to Mama, “My name is Honza. May I help you and your daughters with your bags?”

  Mama smiles and replies, “That’s very kind of you, Honza. This is Anna and this is Ruzena. We’re able to carry our own bags at the moment, but we’ll be grateful for your help if the walking becomes more difficult.”

  We walk single file through the forest, where there’s barely a path and it’s hard to know where to step. The guide tries to avoid the really thick foliage, but there are lots of brambles and what seems like an obstacle course of roots and rocks. I watch Mama as I try to keep my balance and am impressed. I had almost forgotten what an excellent gymnast she was when she was younger. Despite her high heels, she’s able to keep up with the guide—as if she’s used to hiking in her best shoes.

  I try to pretend we’re just out on a regular hike. Not on a journey with a boy we don’t know, following a man we have no reason to trust.

  I look up and Honza smiles at me. Suddenly he doesn’t feel like a stranger anymore, and I decide it’s a good thing he’s with us.

  Chapter 16

  HIDING

  WE’VE BEEN WALKING for about twenty minutes when we hear a crackling sound up ahead. Our guide gestures for us to hide, so we crouch behind a clump of pine trees.

  As panic rises inside me, I reach for Mama’s hand and try to focus on the sounds of two birds calling back and forth in the branches above. I’m tempted to peek out from behind the
trees when our guide reappears and motions to us to keep going.

  As we walk, our guide occasionally gestures for us to take cover, but time after time, there is nothing and we continue on our way. I’m not as frightened now when we have to hide.

  I’m lagging behind and wondering how much farther to the German border and what it will look like when I realize that Mama, Ruzena, and Honza are hiding behind a large bush just ahead.

  I duck behind the nearest tree and feel my heart freeze. There, standing with his back against another tree trunk, just a few feet away from me, is a police officer—a police officer who looks terrifyingly familiar.

  Could he be one of the officers who chased me to Papa’s offices in the streets of Prague?

  He looks straight at me, and I think I’m going to faint. So many ideas flash through my head. Should I call out to my mother? Scream for the guide?

  No, none of that will help me with this officer.

  I know I have to be brave. And that I cannot let him take us back.

  So I look him right in the eye. I pray with all my heart, “Please, God, don’t let him take us back. Please let us go on. Please keep us safe.”

  He returns my gaze for a long time and then, just as the guide comes out and waves for us to keep going, the policeman nods at me, and I know he’s letting us go. We walk on and he doesn’t say a word.

  I look back again and I realize I’ve never seen him before in my life—and I feel like I’ve just experienced a miracle.

  I wonder what would have happened if he had stopped us. Would we have been arrested? Sent to a work camp in Siberia? I can’t even imagine what that would be like—and everyone says I have a good imagination.

  Chapter 17

  THE BORDER

  IT FEELS LIKE we’ve been walking for ages when we reach the top of a hill and the guide announces that we’re almost at the border. Now there’s a less overgrown path to follow. Going downhill is a little easier, but the ground is wet and slippery in places, so it’s hard to keep our footing. Ruzena loses her balance and begins to fall, but Honza catches her. He holds her hand for a moment longer than necessary, and even in the shadows of the trees, I can see my sister blush.

  My knee socks are soaking wet, and my feet are cold and sore, so I try to keep my spirits up by imagining a warm bath with sweet-smelling bubbles.

  Then, a few yards ahead of us, I see a large stone monument. It seems strange and out of place in the woods.

  “Mama, what’s that?” I ask in my low voice, pointing at the stone column engraved with a list of French names and a date from 1812.

  “It’s a monument in honor of the Napoleonic soldiers who died along this path trying to get home to France from where they were fighting in Russia in 1812.”

  A shiver passes through me as I think of the soldiers dying along this path. All they wanted was to go home. Just like me.

  Ruzena moves closer to me, and we stand side by side looking up at the monument. Mama makes the sign of the cross, and Ruzena, Honza, and I do the same. Our guide watches us and quickly crosses himself too.

  The clouds part and the sun streams through the trees, making the forest shimmer. It feels like a holy place. I wonder how many people have stopped here on their search for safety. I say a silent prayer for all of them and for us—that we will find it.

  We walk on and follow the path a little bit farther. Then our guide stops and turns to Mama. “I’m sorry, madam, but this is where I must leave you,” he says.

  Mama stares at him in surprise but replies in a calm voice, “But you promised to take us to the German border.”

  “This is the German border,” he responds, and I can’t help looking around for the line on the ground that separates Czechoslovakia from Germany.

  “I was told you would take us to the German post,” Mama says firmly.

  “I’m sorry. I cannot go on. You are in Germany now and the post is close by. Please understand it isn’t safe for me to go farther. I can’t risk being caught coming back across the border. I have a wife and family,” he says as he looks pleadingly at Mama, and after a moment, she nods.

  Our guide looks relieved. “Now, all you must do is follow this path for another mile or so, and you will come to the German post. You should be there in less than an hour.”

  Honza places his rucksack on the ground and begins to search around inside it. “Excuse me, sir,” he asks, “but exactly which direction are we supposed to walk in?”

  “Southwest,” the guide replies, and Honza nods in thanks.

  Mama reaches into her bag and takes out her wallet and Wuthering Heights. She tucks all of her Czech money into the pages of the book and hands it to the guide.

  “Take this. It will help you get home safely. Thank you for your service,” she says. He takes the book, bows his head, and then he is gone.

  As I watch this exchange, a sudden wave of understanding washes over me. Mama must be using codes to help us escape. It dawns on me that every time she talked to strangers on the train about buying kid gloves, we changed trains. It was like the men were telling her where to go. And Wuthering Heights must be part of the code, too, because she was always reading it and showing it to people we met, and then she gave it to our guide and said it would help him get home safely. It’s just like in a spy novel—kind of exciting but also scary.

  As soon as our guide is gone, the forest seems much bigger, and I clench my fist tightly around my pebble.

  Honza is looking for something in his rucksack. “I can’t find my compass,” he tells us. “But that way is north.”

  “How can you tell?” I ask.

  Honza points to a patch of moss growing on one side of a large rock. “The sun is a good guide and so is the moss—it usually grows on the shadier, northern side.”

  “Impressive. You can be our compass from now on,” Ruzena says.

  Chapter 18

  THE RAVINE

  WE WALK SINGLE file, but this time Mama leads the way and I walk right behind her with Ruzena and Honza following. We don’t get far before we hear the loud sound of rushing water. Mama stops abruptly, and I immediately see why. There before us, cutting its way through the forest—and across our path—is a deep ravine. Water is gushing through it and there is no way around it.

  Mama wrinkles her brow and looks around. “This can’t be right. We have been walking on the path just as he said we should, and he didn’t mention crossing a ravine.”

  “Maybe it’s a trap. Didn’t our driver say something about that? Maybe the police are waiting in the trees to capture us. Maybe . . .” My sister is beginning to panic.

  “No, Ruzena, we must not get hysterical worrying about traps. Perhaps he didn’t mention it because there isn’t usually so much water here. After all, it’s been a very rainy summer. There is nothing to do but figure out a way forward,” Mama says. She’s so calm and brave, I believe we will find a way to go on.

  “I can go back a bit and see if there is another way,” offers Honza.

  Then I see it and I know what we’re supposed to do. “Look, Mama.” I point to a log lying across the ravine a few meters downstream. “We can go across.”

  The log looks sturdy and like it was placed there on purpose. As we approach it, Ruzena starts shaking her head. “Oh no. No. I can’t possibly walk across that. It’s way too narrow. We’ll fall. We’ll be killed. I’m not even supposed to be here! I should be playing piano in a concert in Prague!”

  Her voice starts as a whisper, but by the end, she is almost shouting and tears are forming in her eyes. Mama steps toward her and opens her mouth to speak, but Honza takes Ruzena’s hand.

  “No, no, this will be fine. I promise. I’ll help you cross, no problem. We do challenges like this in Boy Scouts all the time. I can tell from Anna’s uniform that she’s good at gymnastics, and I bet you are too. It will be just like walk
ing the balance beam. It will even be fun! Look!”

  He scoops up Ruzena’s suitcase and strides out onto the log. Within seconds, he reaches the other side. “See, easy,” he says, and returns for Mama’s and my bags.

  Once he has delivered our luggage to the other side of the ravine, he returns to help each of us across one at a time. First, he offers Mama his hand, and she follows him very slowly but with perfect balance across the log.

  Next, it is my turn. Before I step onto the log, I foolishly look down into the swirling water and can’t go on. I want to be brave, I really do, but it’s too high and the water looks dangerous.

  “Can’t I just crawl across?” I whisper to Honza.

  Honza crouches down, looks into my face, and speaks in a low, reassuring voice. “You don’t want to crawl, Anna. That will be more difficult. You can walk across. I know you can. I won’t let you fall. I promise. Just don’t look down. Look straight at me. It will be fine. Trust me.”

  With that, he gives me a smile, takes my hand, and walks out onto the log in front of me. His hand is warm and strong, and I know I will be okay. A minute later, I am standing next to Mama, who takes me in her arms and hugs me with relief.

  Honza goes back for Ruzena, who is watching nervously with her back against a tree trunk a good distance away from the edge of the ravine. When he reaches her, he bows with an over-the-top flourish and extends his arm to her with his head still lowered. I see her smile, and if the water had not been so loud, I might have even been able to hear her giggle. Honza leads Ruzena to the log as if they are walking to the middle of a dance floor. When they reach the edge of the log, Honza releases her arm. I see him say something as he takes my sister’s hand and bows deeply over it. When he straightens, they are both smiling and she’s blushing again. He leads her across and she follows him with complete confidence, as if she had never been afraid.