Chapter 42

I needed to find food, or Chaton and her family would starve. My attention was divided by the reports the Nazis were advancing on Paris and where to get food. We were worried and hopeful that we might get a chance to fight. I wanted to join my father in the underground, but I didn’t know where he was exactly. All I could do was worry and think of the possibilities.

Chaton and her family had been hidden in the cave for three days. I needed some way to get into the school’s kitchens and the storerooms—both secured with formidable padlocks.

I had found a nail in the stables and hoped I could use it to unlock the door to the kitchens. At the stroke of midnight, I eased out of my bed, making only the faintest of creaking sounds as I stood, surveyed the sleeping boys, and exited.

I held my breath as I worked the nail around the lock and then heard the soft, almost imperceptible click. The door creaked in protest but swung open. I stopped, held my breath, and listened for footsteps. Nothing. Only after making sure I hadn’t been heard, I stepped into the kitchen and took a loaf of bread from the table, and meat, cheese, and a bowl of grapes from the icebox.

I found a sack and filled it with foodstuffs, closed the door, and carefully relocked the door and slipped into the night.

I heard a footfall and stopped. Was it my footsteps or beating heart? Or was someone following? I remained quiet for what seemed an eternity, but perhaps only five minutes, before easing away from the shadow of the school and down the lane that led past the village to the river.

I heard it again. There was no mistaking it this time. A twig snapped, and a branch rustled. Someone was following me.

I eased the sack down and waited by a tree. My heart thudded in my chest. Someone moved down the lane, slow but deliberate.

“You there!” The voice came from the darkness. “Announce yourself!”

I recognized that voice, swallowed, and considered what to do. I was trapped and couldn’t stand here until morning, so in a hoarse voice called out, “Jean Claude!”

“Jean Claude!” came the deep voice. “Where are you going?” My lieutenant.

“Into town.”

My fox-faced lieutenant stepped around the foliage to face me. “What is in the sack?”

“Food for my maman.” The lie came easily and quickly.

“Your maman?”

“Oui, she is housing a Gypsy child, and my father is off fighting. She needs food.”

“We shall see,” the lieutenant said. “Pick up the sack and follow me!” He led me back to the school and blew his whistle, signaling all the others to rise from their cots and join us in the great room. The other cadets came slowly into the room, some hastily dressed in their uniforms, some still in their sleeping clothes, all looking bleary-eyed and yawning. Grumbling and whispers. “Is it the Germans?” “What hour is this?” “I’m still asleep.”

“I have called you here on account of Cadet Jean Claude Rousseau who has been caught stealing our food for his mother and a Gypsy child.” He let his words sink in to the sleep-confused boys. “Should he be punished?”

“Locked up!”

“Beaten!”

“He should be forced to clean the kitchen!”

“I will leave him to you to do as you please,” the lieutenant said before turning and marching away. The cadets surrounded me.

“Please,” I begged. “I will put the food back.” I scanned the faces, searching for Louis. He must be absent or hidden in the back. “My maman is all alone, and she has an extra mouth to feed!”

Before I could say more, a punch to my gut doubled me over. Then another. And one to my jaw made me see stars before collapsing on the floor. I saw a boot raised to kick my ribs. I closed my eyes. A boom sounded from across the river. The boot grazed me but didn’t do any serious damage as I lay on the floor panting.

“What was that?” one of the cadets asked.

“Is it the Nazis?”

“I heard they’re coming!”

“My God!”

I was thankful they had forgotten about me as another boom shook the school. The boys stepped away—no longer worried about the stolen food.

The lieutenant ran back. “The Nazis have overtaken Paris and are marching this way!”

I listened as my fellow cadets went back to our sleeping quarters. When all was quiet, I crept back to my cot. I stared unseeing into the dark, worrying about the advancing Germans, Chaton and her family, my mother and Adella. These thoughts and my aching ribs crowded away sleep. I dozed a bit before being shaken awake.

“Up! You lazy lout. You are to wash dishes!”

I was led into the kitchen and faced a towering pile of bowls and pots used for the morning meal. My penitence for stealing the food.

“You will clean everything,” the fat cook advised.

My stomach rumbled. Even bruised and sore, I was hungry and hadn’t eaten since the night before.

I looked into a huge pot crusted with oatmeal, cooked black on the sides. “This will take forever!” I grumbled.

The cook grinned.

“Shouldn’t we be preparing to defend Saumur?” I stammered.

“Non! You are to clean it all!”

At least the kitchen window allowed me a view of the practice arena. I could watch my fellow cadets preparing the horses. “What are they doing?” I asked the cook.

He grunted. “They’re taking the horses to a safer place.” He put his fists to his hips and roared, “Get busy!”

When I put my hands in the hot soapy water, my fingers felt numb and stretched like sausage casings. After making a dent in the towering dishes, I looked up from washing to see there was some sort of commotion with cadets milling around. I couldn’t tell from this distance what it was about. Then soldiers led a group of people through the arena at gunpoint. I frowned. Was that Chaton’s family? Her colorful skirt was the only brightness on this dull, gray day. I leaned forward for a better look and, in the process, dropped a plate. It shattered into a million pieces that skittered across the stone floor.

The cook yelled, “Lout. Imbecile. Stupid boy!”

I hurriedly put the broken china in the refuse container, and when I turned back to the window, her family was gone.

I finished the dishes. The cook pointed to a small room next to the kitchen. I frowned, not understanding, until he closed the door after me and turned the key. I was locked up.