The Voice of Heart

18| Suspicion

A sudden change in Adeline's behavior left Wilhelm distressed. She stayed away from him since the incident of oppression that was done by Major Gustav. She thought he was complicit with his superior in imposing the threat of fierce reprisals on the population. A question went round and round endlessly in her head, "If someday he's given an order to kill me, will he do so without hesitance?"

Moonbeams shone through clouds, its light dancing on the leaves of the dense trees. At this night, Adeline wasn't under the watchful eye of her mother. She fell asleep early because of daytime fatigue. She could sense she no longer lie in wait behind the walls to spy on Wilhelm and her. When she walked toward her bedroom, she ran into him. They stood staring at each other in silence; a look of anxiety spread across his face.

"I can't stand to think that you hate me," he approached her but she moved back a few steps. Her reaction made him sad. A moment later, he looked at her with an unwavering stare. "The incident you saw wasn't like you thought. I just did my job as his interpreter but it didn't mean I justified his actions and decisions."

She didn't say a word. Her silence was killing him.

"Please believe me," he gave her a pleading gaze.

For a moment she looked at his uniform. The sight of that uniform seemed to remind her of the oppression of the French people. "I am sorry I don't know what to say," she was on the verge of tears. She walked away from him.

He stood pensively as he saw her closing the door of her bedroom.

***

The morning was warm as the Sun rose in the clear, cloudless sky. Adeline decided to go to the grocery because a supply of breads had diminished since a couple of days ago. She was still outside the house with her bicycle. When she was about to get on it, her back tire was flat. She let out a deep sigh. The bad condition forced her to go on foot. She walked along the street with a crochet shopping bag on her shoulder. A black pickup truck had just overtaken her. It suddenly moved backward and stopped beside her. She looked at someone inside; a young man with a long pointed nose and dark circles under his eyes. He was Gisele's brother, Pierre Courteau. The villagers knew him as a skilled craftsman, who had been asked to hang a Swastika flag on the balcony of the German headquarters.

"Bonjour," He greeted her. "It's unusual you go on foot. Where's your bicycle?"

"The back tire was flat so I have to go to the grocery on foot."

"Hop in. I'll drive you there."

"Thank you," she smiled, getting into the truck.

Pierre started the engine and the truck was moving at a steady speed. The wind whistled along the curves of the truck. They passed the winding country road lined with the lush green field.

"Let me tell you something," he smiled. "The day the Germans arrived in Noyers. They were going around the French houses to billet their officers. My neighbor said to me that they were terrified of Tuberculosis so I made up the plot to prevent their officers from staying in my house. At noon, a German non-commissioned officer came to my house with a list of the French home addresses in his hand. Once I opened the door, I kept coughing so noisily that every time he spoke he was cut in by the noise I made. He shuddered in disgust and right away crossed my name on the list."

They burst into laughter that their whole bodies shook.

"Your acting skills had saved you. That German could be deceived easily."

A satisfied smile played on his lips.

The truck was passing by the old stone houses. They were made of yellow limestone that in sunlight took on the color of golden wheat. From a distance, the French flag flew proudly in front of one of those houses; a German soldier ordered the owner of the house to take it down; flying the French flag and singing La Marseillaise were banned since the beginning of the occupation because they were considered as an act of resistance. No sooner had the German turned his back to walk away, the flag was raised again. That funny moment made Adeline and Pierre laughed with pleasure.

"I haven't seen Clément lately. His butcher shop is always closed," he said after a brief silence.

"I saw him two days ago. The Germans arrested him but I don't know why they did that."

Surprise had taken hold of him, eyes widening in disbelief. His breath hitched, caught in his throat. In a barely audible voice, which slipped through his lips, he muttered, "damn it!"

He pulled out onto a side street. They finally arrived at a grocery.

"Do you think he joins the resistance?"

He was still mute with surprise, sitting frozen with his hand holding a steering wheel.

She raised her voice, "Pierre, are you alright?"

He regained his consciousness. "I am . . . I am alright," he stammered. "Look! The queue is getting longer. You should go there immediately," he pointed his finger to the grocery. He made her question unanswered.

She stared at him. She could sense he was hiding something from her.