The Upstairs Room

  “Hey, Annie, I hear something. Go upstairs. Take your plate. No, give it to me.” Dientje ran into the kitchen with it.

  I stood up. With my hand I pushed the chair away. Desperately I tried to get to the stairs. The footsteps sounded closer and closer to the window. I couldn’t move. My legs hurt so.

  “Go, what’s the matter with you,” Dientje cried.

  Johan jumped up from his chair and grabbed me by the shoulders. Roughly he opened the door and pushed me up the stairs. Tears were rolling down my cheeks when I reached my room. What a terrible thing, not to be able to move. Everybody had stared at me, even Sini.

  I threw myself on the bed. That’s where I belonged. Not downstairs with the others. Hurriedly I sat up and wiped my face. Whoever was coming up the stairs didn’t have to see me this way.

  Sini came in. “You know, that was Groothuis. He came to tell Johan something he had just heard. The Allies have started a counterattack in Belgium. Isn’t that great? Little sister, you may not have to sit here much longer. You know I think so much about you. Give me a kiss. I have to go.”

  “Will you come back tomorrow?” Why did I ask?

  “I’ll try. That’s a promise.”

  I’ll be more talkative tomorrow… if she comes. She will if she can. Her hands felt so rough. I know she works hard.

  I heard the kitchen door close. I pressed myself against the wall next to the window and looked down from the corner of my eyes. It was Sini. She looked up. I smiled.

  The Germans couldn’t stop running. The Allies were chasing them right back into Germany. In the east, the Russians were doing the same thing; they had pushed the Germans back almost to Berlin.

  When Sini came to see me, she pulled me out of bed. “Get up and move, Annie, and don’t argue, not this time.”

  Would I be able to walk soon? Really walk? Outside? I started to smile. Anxiously I stuck my legs over the side of the bed. I was going to ask Dientje for that calendar for 1945. I had to cross off all the days in January and the first twenty-two in February. Every cold, endless one of them.

  “You know that man I work with?”

  “Yes, Johan, I know.”

  “He says the Canadian army’s going to be here in a few weeks. Yep. Canadians. Show Johan how you can walk. Good girl.”

  Why is he talking about that man he works with again? Doesn’t he even have a name? He has never been right yet. Never. He’s … he’s stupid … a liar. My lips started to tremble.

  The man had been right about something. They were coming closer, the Canadians. But five weeks had gone by, and still they weren’t here. And so little was happening upstairs. Outside, the trees were becoming green again, the pale gentle green of spring.

  D’you see it, too, window? You must. You’re as close to the trees as I am. Then tell me what it looks like to you. What, you’re not answering? How dare you.

  I went over to the window. Say something.

  Disgustedly I walked away. What was the use?

  On March 31 the Germans took every horse and cart they could lay their hands on.

  “What would they do that for?” Opoe asked.

  “So they can run faster,” Johan answered.

  “But if it doesn’t belong to them?”

  “Ma, haven’t you learned anything in these five years?”

  “Ja, ja, they’re not honest, are they?”

  Johan ran out of the house. He was going to take his horse to a safer place, where “they’ve got to be pretty clever to find her.”

  He’d better be careful, with all those airplanes going over. Could they be German? Were they attacking the Canadians? Pushing them back? I covered my ears Where was everybody.

  “Annie,” Dientje yelled, “come downstairs to the air-raid shelter with Opoe and me.”

  “But the neighbors.”

  “Nobody’s out in the street now. Come. You can’t get killed now.” Her voice cracked. “Annie.”

  “I’m coming as fast as I can.”

  Dientje half-carried me into the shelter.

  “Opoe, are you here?”

  “Ja, ja, where else? Where’s that Johan? They wouldn’t have taken the horse.”

  “Yes, they would’ve. But why isn’t he back? I’m scared. Oh, my God, did you hear that? Johan,” Dientje wailed.

  “Keep your wits together. Annie, you scared?”

  I made myself as small as possible. You know a bomb can hit you, don’t you? Can kill you, too. After two years and seven months upstairs, it could be a bomb, not a murder camp. Ha, outside. You may never leave the shelter. Listen to that noise. Just listen. Who wants to be liberated if it means this? The way it was was all right. I didn’t mind. No, I don’t mean that. I did mind. I did.

  “You here?” Johan came in. “Annie, too? Good.”

  “Why were you out in the street? Why didn’t you come back sooner? You could’ve gotten killed, you. You’re so smart.” Was Dientje crying?

  “It’s mostly over now,” Johan said in a toneless voice. “You should see what happened. A bomb hit the bakery. Killed the old mother and the young people. Another bomb hit the parsonage. It’s in a shambles, but nobody was inside.”

  “Where were you, Johan?”

  “On my stomach in a meadow. I saw it all. Boy, o boy, what a mess! They were Canadian airplanes.”

  “Why did they throw a bomb on the bakery?” Dientje asked.

  “I don’t know. A mistake, I guess.”

  “Some mistake. The parsonage was a mistake, too? Where’s the minister.”

  “I saw him, Ma. He’s okay. Let’s go in the house. They’re gone.”

  “I met the Hanninks,” Johan said upstairs, “right after the bombing. You should’ve seen Mr. Hannink. He was trembling. He was. I said to’m, What’s the matter? You’re used to danger. What’re you so afraid of? You know, he hardly answered me. He couldn’t. His teeth were clattering. I’m not kidding. Boy, to be so scared. I didn’t like it either, but I wasn’t.… ”

  “Their house get hit, too? They’re so close to the bakery.” Dientje interrupted him.

  “The windows broke. That’s all.”

  “That’s Sini by the kitchen door, Johan.”

  Johan looked out of the window. “You’re right. Hey, you should’ve stayed home. Just because it’s Saturday night doesn’t mean you’ve got to be out.”

  “I had to come here. I’ve never milked so fast in my life.”

  “Did anything happen out your way?”

  “Nothing like here. I was so afraid something had happened to you.”

  “Johan, there’s somebody else at the door.”

  “That’s Dini Hannink? I just saw her. What’s up, Dini? Your father a little calmer?”

  “The Canadians are coming tomorrow.”

  “Those planes again?” Opoe asked.

  “No, soldiers. Well be free around noon.”

  “How d’you know, Dini?”

  “From somebody who knows. The planes cleared the way today. There shouldn’t be any fighting tomorrow. Those few Germans that are still around will have left by then.”

  “I’ll be damned,” Johan said. “We’ll be free.”

  “It sure would be nice to have a drop of coffee now,” Opoe said, “the real stuff. Do Canadians or Americans, or whatever they are, drink coffee?”

  “Sure, Opoe.”

  “Then Johan, you better ask for some. You speak what they do.”

  “I sure do. ‘Coffee you have me,’ I’ll say. Sini, how’s that for a dumb farmer?”

  “Beautiful, Johan.”

  Why am I so calm, as if this is an ordinary evening? Aren’t you glad? Yes, but I don’t feel any different, not excited or anything. Maybe it’s just as well, in case it doesn’t happen. What am I going to do if it does happen? Go out? What if there’s a German left? You know, there has to be only one. That would be enough. Just one. I did feel different. Uncomfortably I wriggled on my chair.

  “Sini, you’ll be here tomorr
ow, won’t you?” Johan asked.

  “Of course. I’m asking for the day off.”

  “Don’t tell ’em yet who you are,” Dientje warned.

  “I’ll be damned. Tomorrow.”

  Why tomorrow? After those bombs, it should be today. Maybe there’ll be more planes tomorrow. We can still get killed, just like those people in the bakery. My face felt hot, and sweaty.

  “I won’t be able to sleep all night,” Opoe said. “Why bother to try.”

  “You’ve got to, Ma. Tomorrow you’ll be busy.”

  “Ja, ja. With what?”

  “Aren’t you coming with us to watch the Canadians?”

  “Me? No. I’m not starting now. Watching Canadians. Hendrik should know.”

  12

  I GOT up and took my dress out of the closet. Off with you, pajamas. Yep, today I’d have to get dressed. Can you imagine going out in your pajamas, Annie? I started to laugh. Nope. What if they’re not coming? I sat down on the bed. Then what? Quit it. Dini said they would. But it’s the first of April, April Fools’ Day.

  “No, Opoe, I can’t eat any breakfast.” She was early, wanted to get all the work out of the way, too. Like me. I smoothed my dress.

  “Eat just a little bit. You’ll get so thin. And that’s the worst thing that can happen to people.”

  “All right, Opoe.” If it made her feel better, why not?

  She sighed with relief.

  “Sini, you’re here already. What did they say?” Sini was early, too.

  “Oh, nothing.” She sat down in front of the mirror as if she had never been away. “I’m so happy. Do I look good? Let me fix your hair. They’re going to be here soon. Hello, Canadian soldiers, how nice to see you. I wonder what color uniforms they have. I hear Mr. Hannink downstairs. Wait a minute, Annie, I’ll be right back.”

  I picked up the mirror. Bewilderedly I stared at myself. What a pale face. Bah! And hair that was half red and half black. Bah, bah! Sini’s so excited. Aren’t you? Yes, I am. Of course. I do look better when I smile. That’s what I’ll do outside. Hello everybody, you’re looking at an ex-prisoner. Why was I a prisoner? I forget. I think because I’m Jewish. A long time? Boy, was it! Well, never mind. Today had better be the day though.

  Sini came back with Opoe, who was wearing her Sunday apron.

  “Mr. Hannink has already seen them,” Sini said jubilantly.

  “Where?”

  “In Boekelo. They’re on their way. They’ll be in Usselo in half an hour or so. Come on.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “Outside, of course. They’re coming on the main road. Yes, you look fine. Do I? C’mon sister, hurry.”

  “Opoe, you come, too.”

  No, no.”

  “But Opoe, this is such a special day. You must.”

  “Okay, because you want me to. I guess Hendrik wouldn’t mind. I’ve been home a long time. Wait till I get my cap.” She opened the bottom drawer of the chest. “It never got right after that heavy book,” she complained. “Boy, was I mad.” With stiff fingers she tied the strings under her chin.

  “What are you thinking about, Annie? Let’s go.”

  Reluctantly I followed Sini down the stairs. I haven’t been outside for so long that I don’t even want to go. I’ll wait for another day. But I can go near the window in the front room. I can stand right up against it, because we’re free after all. And then when I see somebody, I won’t duck. I’ll stay, even raise my hand. Hello. How are you?

  “Come, or I’ll have to carry you,” Johan said, “and I’m not kidding.” I took Dientje’s and Sini’s hands. We left the kitchen, went along the side of the house, walked through the gate, and turned left. I looked back. The house was just as Johan had described it. Red brick with green trimmings.

  Who is that? Somebody is looking at me. I want to go back before it’s too late. Too late for what? I don’t know, but I don’t like to be stared at. I have a scarf on, so it can’t be my hair. It must be my legs. Are they really that different from other people’s? They must be. My face burned.

  “Morning, Johan. What a day of all days. Right? Your mother looks good. You should take her out more often.”

  “Ja, Willem, but you know how they get when they’re old.”

  “Ja, ja, I know. Having guests?”

  “Yes. I’ll tell you about em later. Now we’re in a hurry.” Johan pushed me on. “Let’s move a little faster, Annie, or we’ll miss them.”

  Miss them? If we didn’t see them, what would happen? Sure, we should hurry. I pushed my shoulders back a little bit. I wasn’t going to miss them.

  “I should’ve worn different wooden shoes,” Opoe complained. “These hurt me.”

  “Look, that’s where the bakery was.”

  “God-o-god-o-god, Johan, I wish I hadn’t come. What’s the matter with those Canadians?”

  “Morning, Gerrit. Yes, we’re on our way, too. You’re right. I know. Yes, the girls are friends. I’ll tell you about ’em later.”

  “Let’s not stand near all those people, Johan.”

  “Stop it, woman. Let’s stand on this rubble. That’s where the parsonage was. No, Groothuis, they’re not from Usselo. Later. And you especially listen carefully.”

  “Ja, ja, not for twenty-two years. No, this is special. I’m not going out again. You can’t fool me. I know how old I am. Isn’t it a shame about the parsonage? Such a nice man, the minister, too. And all those books. They must’ve burned. He had some really heavy ones, too. Fui-fui-fui, what this world isn’t like!” Opoe wiped her eyes.

  There were the Hanninks. They winked.

  “Now he’s brave again. You should’ve seen him yesterday.”

  “Annie, don’t wave at the Hanninks. Better not. Later.”

  “Where will the soldiers come from?”

  “That way. Can’t be long now. Morning, Piet. Yes, those girls are friends. I’ll explain later.”

  “Annie, your scarf’s coming off. Fix it.”

  “Johan, I’ve got to sit down some place. Those wooden shoes don’t fit.”

  There, there! They were coming, sitting in and on tanks, waving at everybody. Hello, too. I don’t have to fix the scarf anymore. Hello.

  Johan walked up to one of the tanks. “Have you cigarettes me? Hey, that fellow understands me. Look, he threw me a package.”

  “That Johan.”

  “Thanks. I wish this tank would pass a little bit faster, then I can ask the next fellow. Hey, you cigarettes me? Goddammit, that one must be a tight-fisted one. He did understand me. Son of a gun.”

  “Ask for coffee, Johan.”

  I looked around. Where had Sini gone? Oh, my God, she was climbing on a tank. Throwing her arms around a soldier’s neck. Kissing him before she jumped down.

  “God-o-god-o-god, that Sini. What’s next!”

  Hello. Tears on my face? But I’m not crying. I am. I’m crying. I am. So glad. Why did it take you soldiers so long? So awfully long. I’m not mad. Today? How could I be. Hello. I love you. Sounds funny, but I mean it. All of you. Hello, hello.

  More and more farmers stood around Johan. They looked from him to Sini and me. Who were the strangers he had brought? they kept asking. “Not that it’s any of our business, but you know, you hate to keep guessing.”

  In a loud voice Johan answered. “They’re Jewish girls we had in the house. Aw, it was nothing. No, I was never afraid. Never. Not even when we had those German soldiers. Ah, that was nothing. I’d do it again. Here, Ma? Boy, she’s a tough one. Dientje, admit it. You weren’t always cool. Hello, you cigarettes me? How d’you like my English, eh? This one taught me how to talk it. Thanks. What kind of stuff did that one throw me? Plum pudding. What’s that?”

  “They look like nice fellows, Johan.”

  “They are, Ma. Look at that Sini climbing on a tank again. Annie, get her, or she’ll be off to the next town.” He turned to the farmers again. “Yes, the Hanninks had ’em for a while. Couple of months. We had ’em
for over two years. They’re good girls. We didn’t tell anybody about ’em. Don’t be mad. It would’ve been too dangerous if we had told everybody in Usselo. I know you’re special, but don’t forget that I was responsible for them. No, I was never afraid. Not me. Hey, Groothuis, take a look at my girls.

  “You aren’t surprised? Hey, why not? Annie, I thought you’d never been near that window. Oh, I see. We had the light on upstairs an awful lot at night. You see, this town is just a dumb place. Sini’s right. Just a minute. You cigarettes me?”

  “Johan stop that begging. You cough enough.”

  “Leave me alone, woman. Ask ’em for some of those cans. That stuff looks good. Me cans, you say. Annie, how d’you feel?”

  I just wave. Welcome!

  “Let’s go home. My feet bother me.”

  “All right, Ma. I guess we can’t stand here all day. Good-bye Hanninks. See you.”

  “How do you girls feel?”

  “Great, Mrs. Hannink.”

  To tell you the truth, I don’t feel a thing. My hands just move up and down. Good-bye, soldiers, we have to go home.

  Half a dozen farmers followed us back to the house. Inside I stood in the corner of the kitchen. Was I supposed to go upstairs now? Maybe so.

  “Stay here, silly girl. You don’t have to go upstairs anymore. You can all come in, Gerrit, Piet, Groothuis, everybody.” Johan got chairs.

  “Poor girls. Look at that little one. So pale. You can see she hasn’t been outside for a long time.” “Wasn’t it hard? What did you do all day? You must be glad it’s over.” “We didn’t like the war either. Where d’you come from.” “Winterswijk? You have any father or mother?” “Well, maybe your father’s still alive.” “A sister, too? Older than you two?” “Yes, those Germans were bad. Really bad.” “Haven’t I seen you in the neighborhood lately, a couple of times a week?” “I said to myself, I wonder how that girl knows the Oostervelds. But you know, you don’t want to be nosy.” “So you worked there for a few months. How are they? They didn’t grow up around here.” “They’re nice, though? Well, well, what a day this has been.” They all left together, still talking.