get through this war without upheaval, but they have chosen to love. Love is always risky.”
“Absolutely, especially in the tides of today, the fascist plague that besieges us,” Camus answered.
“That’s not even the main problem. The real tide—the plague, as you call it—is hatred in the human heart. The only way to fight it is with love. We detected this wave of hatred several years ago, when Hitler rose to power in Germany, but no one wanted to listen. Now we can barely contain it. They’ve sown their hatred and violence everywhere and have shaped an entire generation with it. Let us withstand the wave and sow love, my friend.”
Albert Camus smiled again, despite the heaviness in his diseased lungs. Trocmé’s words rekindled his hope. In the past few weeks he had sensed death’s proximity so acutely. He shook the pastor’s hand, then left the building with the rest of the congregation.
One of the caregivers from Jacob’s boardinghouse came up, patted Trocmé on the back, then smiled at Jacob. “The Arnauds are here, and they’ve brought Moses. Would you like to see him?”
Jacob’s face lit up. The few hours of their separation had felt like an eternity. Outside the church building, the Arnauds came up to them. “This is Jacob, Moses’s brother,” the caregiver said.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Jacob. I’m Martha, and this is my husband, Lorik. We’ll take good care of your brother. You can come see him whenever you’d like,” said the blond-haired woman, who wore an austere black dress.
“Thank you, ma’am,” Jacob said. At a nod from his caregiver, Jacob ran off toward Moses.
“Jacob!” Moses cried for the whole world. “It’s my brother!”
They hugged and stood talking together while the crowd continued to disperse. After a few minutes, the caregiver motioned for Jacob to return to the boys’ home, and the brothers said goodbye.
Jacob and the caregiver walked toward the boardinghouse, enjoying the pleasant evening. The afternoon sky was lit up with a special brilliance. “Your brother will be all right,” the caregiver said. “The Arnauds are Darbyites, from the Plymouth Brethren Church. They live very simply, but they are good people and hard workers.”
Jacob smiled at him. Since their arrival in Le Chambon-sur-Lignon, he had not stopped thinking about Anna. He had looked for her in the crowd that day but had not spotted her. He asked, “Do you know a woman and her daughter who came just a few weeks ago? They’re Dutch. Maria and Anna Emdem?”
The caregiver turned a surprised face to the boy. “Anna will be one of your classmates at school. You’ll see her tomorrow morning. How do you know her?”
“We happened to meet in Valence and became friends.”
The rest of the short walk passed in silence. Jacob could not wait to see Anna the next day. He felt the strange combination of his legs turning to jelly and his body floating through the air. She had been right: This village really did seem like a paradise, somewhere to forget the war and all the fear.
Chapter 22
Le Chambon-sur-Lignon
August 25, 1942
A loud knock on the door woke Jacob with a start. He looked all around. It was still dark outside, and he hurried to get dressed by feel and go downstairs to see what was happening. A few caregivers and some of the older boys were in the living room, as well as Auguste Bohny, a caregiver from another boardinghouse.
“First, they came to the children’s house and asked for Mr. Steckler,” Bohny was saying. “I told them he wasn’t there, that he was at the Wasp’s Nest. Then they went there, found him, and ordered him to get dressed. I took that opportunity to get the children in our house ready and hide them. When the gendarmes returned, they were furious. They wanted to see the children. I came to see you as soon as I could. You’d better take them all into the woods.”
“But our school has protected status with the government,” one of the caregivers objected. “I don’t see how they could come and make demands here.”
“It doesn’t matter anymore. The prefect from Le Puy has sent the gendarmes. He wants to find the foreign Jews and turn them over to the Germans. If he doesn’t meet a certain quota, it will look bad for him, and he knows we’ve got many sheltered here.”
Jacob was coming down the stairs as he heard Bohny. He had his pants and shoes on but was still buttoning his shirt.