tears from his face and said in a dry voice, “Mr. Vipond is just really tired. He’s going to stay here and rest for a bit.”
Jacob got out of the car and took their suitcases, passports, letter of safe conduct and authorization for travel, and the money. Then he turned off the car lights and the motor.
“Come on, Moses.”
The boys walked slowly toward the guard station, Jacob carrying their suitcases. A half-asleep gendarme sat in the guardhouse, and he jumped when he saw the boys. This particular border point got little traffic, and there were no Germans there at night. Most fugitives avoided the roads in their attempts to cross over, and the Nazis concentrated their efforts on the surrounding countryside. If the Spanish caught the fugitives who managed to slip through and they did not have their papers in order, they would be shipped back to France.
“Where are you going at this hour of the night?” The guard had not recovered from the shock. He turned the flashlight on them.
“We need to cross the border. We have family waiting for us in Spain,” Jacob said with as much confidence as he could muster.
“Are you Spaniards?” he asked, checking their passports.
“We aren’t, but our parents are. They’re sending us to stay with family for a while.”
“Makes sense. Things have gotten pretty ugly here. Who wouldn’t send their kids away?” the gendarme muttered.
Jacob and Moses stayed quiet. The gendarme studied the rest of their papers, then looked down the road and was surprised to see no car anywhere.
“Who brought you?” he asked.
“A friend dropped us off a couple miles back and we walked the rest of the way.”
The gendarme stamped their passports, stood up, and raised the barrier. When the guards on the other side saw the French barrier raised, they raised the Spanish barrier and turned on the lights.
The boys walked calmly through the short stretch of land that belonged to no country. Though they walked away from danger, sadness gripped them. They were also leaving so many other things behind: people who had helped them and who, while the war lasted, would still be in danger. But mostly they thought of Vipond. They had once more been abandoned—they were on their own again—yet they knew it was not really like that. The old man had left this world with a smile on his lips. Love was the only thing that kept people from suffering the eternal disappointment of life.
The boys reached the Spanish side. Officers wearing capes stood with their hands on their hips and watched them approach. They were annoyed at having been wakened from their post.
“Stop there,” the customs officer said in Spanish.
Jacob held out their papers. The man scrutinized their documents, then looked up at the sad, exhausted faces of the boys. “Spanish family. Fine. Go on.”
Jacob stepped forward and his right foot came down on Spanish soil. He breathed out a long sigh of relief. Moses followed and, before they knew it, they were walking in the outskirts of Molló, a picturesque stone village that reminded them of Le Chambon-sur-Lignon. This was the beginning of safety.
Chapter 29
Molló
August 12, 1943
Though it was summer, the night was cool. Jacob and Moses huddled together in the doorway of a church. There was nothing they could do until the next day. Moses soon nodded off on Jacob’s shoulder, but Jacob was alert all night. Guilt for what had happened weighed on him. Vipond’s corpse now lay in an abandoned car on the other side of the border. It would not take the authorities long to find him, but Jacob would have preferred to bury him in a beautiful cemetery in the Pyrenees, where Vipond could rest under the care of the mountains. Had Vipond not driven them across France, he would still be alive.
Jacob could not stop asking himself how they had managed to escape. Countless Jewish children and adults had ended up in Germany or Poland, enduring humiliating work, the deathly winter climate, and the cruelty of the Nazis. Who or what sent some to an unjust death but saved others against all odds? The fact that this question had no answer brought no comfort. He wept silently for a while. As dawn approached, Jacob gently lowered Moses’s head onto one of the suitcases and stood up to greet the colorful changing of the guard.
It was Spain—and yet the mountains, the trees, and the horses grazing in a nearby field were the exact same as in France. The