“They tortured him, didn’t they?” she asked, al though she al ready knew the answer.
“Yes.” Paul met her eyes. “Unmercifully.”
Ruth swallowed hard.
“Helen tried to save him. Disregarding her own safety, she went in after him, only this time she went alone. No sympathetic priest.” Paul’s face hardened. “They dragged her into the basement, where Jean-Claude was being tortured. They had him strung up by his arms. He was bloody and his face was unrecognizable.”
“No!” Ruth hid her eyes with both hands.
“They taunted him. Said they had his accomplice and now he would see her die.”
Ruth could barely talk. “They…were going to…kill Helen—in front of Jean-Claude?”
“From what she said, it wouldn’t have been an easy death. The point was for Jean-Claude to watch her suffer—to watch her die a slow, agonizing death.”
“Dear God in heaven.”
“She didn’t actually say it,” Paul continued. “She didn’t have to spell it out, but Jean-Claude obviously hadn’t been bro ken. Seeing her suffer would have done it, though, and your grand mother knew that. She also knew that if he talked, it would mean the torture and death of others in the Resistance.” Paul looked away for a moment. “Apparently he and his friends had helped a number of British pilots escape German detection. At risk was the en tire underground effort. Jean-Claude knew more than any one suspected.”
“Helen couldn’t let that hap pen,” Ruth said.
“No, and Jean-Claude understood that, too.”
“Remember when she said she was the one who killed him? She didn’t mean that literally, did she?”
“She did.”
This was beginning not to make sense. “But…how?”
Paul braced his el bows on the table. “Her voice started to break at that point and I didn’t catch everything. She talked about a cyanide tablet. I’m not sure how she got hold of it. But I know she kissed him…. A final kiss goodbye. By this stage she was too emotional to understand clearly.”
The pieces started to fall together for Ruth. “She gave him the pill—you mean in stead of taking it her self?”
“That’s what it sounded like to me,” he said hoarsely.
“Was this when he asked her to kill him? And then she kissed him and transferred the pill?”
“I think so.” Paul cleared his throat, but his voice was still rough. “She said Jean-Claude had begged her to kill him. He spoke to her in English, which the Germans couldn’t understand.”
Ruth pictured the terrible scene. Helen and Jean-Claude arguing. If Helen swallowed the pill, she’d be dead and the Gestapo would lose their bargaining chip. Even knowing that, Jean-Claude couldn’t bear to see his wife die. It truly would have bro ken him.
“Speaking in an other language added enough con fusion that she had the opportunity to do what he asked,” Ruth speculated.
“Last time she told us about being driven by fear instead of courage,” Paul re minded her. “I’m sure she didn’t stop to think about what she was doing—she couldn’t. Nor could she refuse Jean-Claude.”
Ruth wanted to bury her face in her hands and weep.
“Jean-Claude thanked her,” Paul said.
“She would have re fused.” Ruth could see it all in her mind, the argument between them.
“I’m convinced she did refuse at first. She loved Jean-Claude—he was her husband.”
Ruth couldn’t imagine a worse scenario.
Paul’s voice dropped slightly. “She said Jean-Claude had never begged for mercy, never pleaded for any thing, but he told her he couldn’t bear any more pain. Above all, he couldn’t bear it if they killed her. He begged her to let him die.”
“He loved her that much,” Ruth said in a hushed whisper.
“And she loved him that much, enough to spare him any more torture, even at the risk of her own death.”
“They didn’t kill her, though,” Ruth said, stating the obvious. “Even though they must have figured out that she was responsible for his death?”
Paul’s eyes widened as if he couldn’t ex plain that any more than she could. “She didn’t say what happened next.”
Ruth stood, anxious now to see her grand mother before they left. “I’m going to check on her.”
Ruth went to her grandmother’s room to find her resting fit fully. Helen’s eyes fluttered open when Ruth stepped quietly past the thresh old.
“Have I shocked you?” Helen asked, holding out her hand to Ruth.
“No,” Ruth told her grand mother, who had to be the bravest woman she’d ever know. She sat on the edge of the bed and whispered, “Thank you, Grand ma—for every thing you did. And for doing Paul and me the honor of sharing it with us.”
Helen smiled and touched her cheek. “You’ve been crying.”
Taking her grand mother’s hand between her own, she kissed the old woman’s knuckles. A lump filled her throat and she couldn’t find the words to ex press her love.
“When did you meet Grandpa?” she finally asked.
Helen smiled again and her eyes drifted shut. “Two years later. He was one of the American soldiers who came with Pat ton’s army to free us from the concentration camp.”
This was a completely different aspect of the story.
“When it was learned that I was an American citizen, I was immediately questioned and when my citizenship was verified, I was put on a ship and sent home.”
“Two years,” Ruth said in a choked voice. “You were in a camp for two years?” Just when she thought there was nothing more to horrify her, Helen revealed something else.
“Buchenwald… I don’t want to talk about it,” Helen muttered.
No wonder her grand mother had never spoken of those years. The memories were far worse than the worst Ruth had been able to imagine.
Her grand mother brushed the hair from Ruth’s forehead. “I want you to know I like your young man.”
“He re minded you of Jean-Claude, didn’t he?”
Her smile was weak, which told Ruth how drained this afternoon’s conversation had left Helen. “Not at first, but then he smiled and I saw Jean-Claude in Paul’s eyes.” She swallowed a couple of times and added, “I wanted to die after Jean-Claude did. I would’ve done any thing if only the Germans had put me out of my living hell. They knew that and decided it was better to let me live and remember, each and every day, that I’d killed my own husband.” A tear slid down her face. “I can’t speak of it any more.”
Ruth understood. “I’ll leave you to rest. Try to sleep.”
Her grand mother’s answering sigh told Ruth how badly she needed that just then.
“Come back and see me soon,” she called as Ruth stood.
“I will, I promise.” She bent down to kiss the soft cheek.
Paul was waiting for her in the living room, flip ping through the Cedar Cove Chronicle, but he got up when she returned. “Is she all right?”
Ruth shrugged. “She’s tired.” Her eyes were watering again, de spite her best efforts not to cry. She couldn’t stop thinking about the pain her grand mother had endured and kept hid den all these years.
Paul held open his arms and she walked into his embrace as naturally as she slipped on a favorite coat. Once there, she began to cry—harsh, bro ken sobs she thought would never end.
Eight
As before, Ruth and Paul spoke little on the ferry ride back to Seattle.
Ruth’s en tire perspective on her grand mother had changed. Until now, she’d al ways viewed the petite, gentle woman as…well, her grand mother. All of a sudden Ruth was forced to realize that Helen had been young once, and deeply involved in events that had changed or destroyed many lives. She’d been an ordinary young woman from a fairly privileged back ground. She’d been a student, fallen in love, enjoyed a care free existence. Then this ordinary young woman had been caught up in extraordinary circumstances—and risen to their demands.
Ruth w
as curious about the connection between her grand mother’s life during the war and her life afterward. Clearly the link was her grand father, whom she’d never had a chance to know.
Paul stood with Ruth at the railing as the ferry glided through the relatively smooth waters of Puget Sound. The rain had stopped, and al though the sky remained cloudy and gray, the air was fresh with only the slightest hint of brine.
“Every story I hear leaves me amazed that this incredible woman is my grand mother,” Ruth said fervently, grateful that Paul was be side her.
“I know. I’m over whelmed, and I just met her.”
They exchanged tentative smiles, and then they both sighed—in appreciation, Ruth thought, of everything Helen Shelton had been and done.
“I wish I’d known my grand father,” she said. “He seems to have been the one who gave my grand mother a reason to live. He loved her and she loved him.” Ruth knew that from every word her grand mother and her dad had said about Sam Shelton.
“How old were you when he died?” Paul asked.
“Two or so.” She turned so she could look directly at Paul. “When I saw my grand mother in her bed room, she said he was with a group of soldiers who freed the prisoners in the concentration camp.”
“She was in a concentration camp?”
Ruth nodded. “She was there at least a couple of years.”
Paul frowned, obviously upset.
“I can’t bear to think what her life was like in one of those ob scene places,” Ruth said.
“It would’ve been grim. You’re right—they were obscene. Places of death.”
Ruth didn’t welcome the re minder. “I’m so glad you’ve been with me on these visits,” she told him. Paul’s presence helped her assimilate the de tails her grand mother had shared. He’d given her a feeling of com fort and companionship as they’d listened to these painful war time experiences. Ruth believed there was something about Paul that had led Helen to divulge her secrets.
After the ferry docked, they walked along the Seattle waterfront, where they ate clam chowder, followed by fish and chips, for dinner. Their mood was somber, and yet, strangely, Ruth felt a sense of peace.
The next day, after her classes, she hurried back to her rental house and ran into Lynn. As much as possible, Ruth had avoided her room mate. Her relationship with Lynn had been awkward ever since the argument over Clay. Lynn’s lie, which she’d told in an effort to keep Ruth from meeting Paul, hadn’t helped.
Lynn was coming out just as Ruth leaped up the porch steps. Her room mate hesitated.
Ruth did, too. She’d never said any thing to Lynn about her intentional mix-up that first night she was meeting Paul. Her classes would be over in June, and she was more than ready to move out.
“Hi,” Lynn offered uncertainly.
Ruth’s pace slowed as she waited, half expecting Lynn to make some derogatory remark about Paul. Be cause Ruth had been with him so often lately, she’d had very little contact with her roommate.
“Are you seeing Paul again?” The question lacked the scornful tone she’d used when referring to him previously. She seemed more prompted by curiosity than any thing else.
“We’re meeting some friends of his later. Why?” Ruth couldn’t help being suspicious. If he’d phoned with a change of plan, she needed to know about it. She knew from experience that Lynn couldn’t be trusted to relay the message.
Lynn shrugged. “No reason.”
“Is there something you aren’t telling me?” Ruth’s voice was calm.
Her room mate had the grace to blush. “He didn’t call, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“Like I could believe you.”
“You can—okay, maybe what I did that night was stupid.”
“Maybe?” Ruth echoed.
“All right, it was. I was upset be cause of Clay.” She didn’t meet Ruth’s eyes. “I thought Clay was re ally hot and you dumped him for soldier boy, and I thought that was just wrong.”
“I don’t need you to decide who I’m al lowed to date.” Ruth couldn’t keep the anger out of her voice. What Lynn had tried to do still rankled. If her cell phone battery hadn’t been low, she and Paul might have missed each other completely. That sent chills down her spine.
Lynn released a long sigh. “I’ll admit it—you were right about Clay.”
“How so?”
“He’s…he’s stuck on him self.”
Ruth suspected that meant he wasn’t interested in Lynn.
“I…I like Paul,” her room mate confessed.
Ruth wasn’t even aware that Lynn had met him and said so.
“He stopped by one afternoon when he thought you were back from class, only you weren’t, and I was here. We talked for a bit. Then he left to look for you at the library.”
Funny that neither had mentioned the incident earlier. “I had the impression you were dead set against him.”
“Not him,” Lynn said. “I’m against the war in Iraq…. I thought you were, too.”
“I don’t like war of any kind. This war or any war, including Afghanistan. Still, the United States is involved in the Middle East, and no matter what, it’s our young men and women who are fighting there. Politics aside, I want to support our troops.”
“I know.” Lynn suddenly seemed to find something absolutely mesmerizing about her shoes.
Ruth moved past her on the porch. “I’d better go in and change.”
“Ruth,” Lynn said sharply. Ruth turned to face her. “I’m sorry about the other night. That re ally was an awful thing to do. I was upset and I took it out on you.”
Ruth had pretty much figured that out on her own. “Paul and I connected, so no harm done.”
“I know, and I’m glad you did be cause I think Paul is great. I know he’s a soldier and all, but he’s a nice guy. I only met him once, but I could see he’s ten times the man Clay will ever be. He’s the kind of guy I hope to meet.”
Paul had obviously impressed her during their brief exchange. She wondered what they’d talked about.
“All’s well that ends well,” Ruth said.
“Shakespeare, right?” Lynn asked. “In other words, all is for given?”
Ruth laughed and nodded, then started into the house.
Paul picked her up at five-thirty and they drove to a Mexican restaurant in down town Kent. Paul had arranged for her to meet his best friend.
Brian Hart and his wife, Carley, were high school sweet hearts and Brian had known Paul for most of his life.
“We go way back,” Brian said when they were introduced. He slid out of the booth and they exchanged handshakes, with Paul standing just be hind Ruth, his hand on her shoulder.
“I’m pleased to meet you both.” They were a handsome couple. Carley was a delicate blonde with soulful blue eyes, and her husband was tall and muscular, as if he routinely worked out.
“We’re pleased to meet you, too,” Carley said when Ruth slipped into the booth across from her.
Paul got in be side Ruth.
“I insisted Paul introduce us,” Carley said as she reached for a chip and dipped it in the salsa. “Every time we tried to get together during his leave, he al ready had plans with you.”
Ruth hadn’t thought of it that way, but realized she’d monopolized his time. “I guess I should apologize for that.”
“We only have the two weeks,” Paul explained.
“You’ll be back in Seattle after the training, won’t you?” Brian asked.
“Maybe, but…” Paul hesitated and glanced at Ruth.
“We only just met and…” Ruth let the rest fade. He would be back and they’d see each other again, but only if she could accept his career in the military.
This four teen-day period was a testing time for them both, and at the end they had a decision to make.
“I’m giving Ruth two weeks to fall head over heels in love with me.” Paul said it as if it were a joke.
“If she doesn’t, there’s defin
itely something wrong with her,” Carley joked back.
Ruth smiled, but she felt her heart sinking. She hadn’t made her decision yet; the truth was, she’d been put ting it off until the last possible minute.
Time was dwindling and soon, in a matter of days, Paul would be leaving. She wasn’t ready—wasn’t ready to decide and wasn’t ready for him to go.
Brian and Carley had to be home before eight be cause of their babysitter, so they left the restaurant first.
Ruth had enjoyed the spicy enchiladas, the margarita and especially the teasing between Paul and Brian. Carley had told story after story of the two boys and their high school exploits, and they’d all laughed and joked together.
Paul and Ruth lingered in the booth over cups of dark coffee, gazing into each other’s eyes. He’d switched places so he could sit across from her. If she’d met him under any other cir cum stance, there’d be no question about her feelings. None! It was so easy to fall in love with this man. In fact, it was al ready too late; even Paul’s mother had seen that. Ruth knew him. After all the letters and emails, all the conversations, she felt as if he’d be come part of her life.
“I know what you’re thinking,” Paul said unexpectedly.
“What am I thinking?” she asked with amusement.
“You’re wondering why I find life in the military so attractive.”
She shrugged. “Close.”
“Do you want to know my answer?”
Ruth was aware of his reasons, but wanted to hear him out, any way. “Sure, go ahead.”
“I like the structure, the discipline, the knowledge that I’m doing something positive to bring about freedom and democracy in the world.”
This was where it got troubling for Ruth.
Be fore she could state her own feelings, Paul stopped her. “I know you don’t agree with me, and I accept that, but I am who I am.”
“I didn’t challenge that—I wouldn’t.”