Before Our Dawn| ongoing

forty-four

Chapitre quarante-quatre
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1943. It was a cloudy day in March. Le Chambon had come under occupation in November of the previous year.

What they believed was their haven had been taken over and destroyed, but Isra and Hans were resolute in their goal to lay low and draw as little attention to themselves as possible. Klaus had grown and the little family of three had grown accustomed to their way of life.

Hans was set on taking up teaching at a local school, whilst Isra would remain at home with Klaus. Teaching paid fairly well, and given his knowledge and expertise, he would be able to obtain a reasonable position. Although Isra worried about him mingling with so many people, especially now that the Germans were at their doorstep, she understood that this was necessary. He was right—they couldn't live with Celine and Yves forever. Their imposition would soon become inconvenient.

What they needed was a home of their own. Yves and Alain promised to use their connections to find them some lodging. Isra had been ecstatic when the news came. Despite the atmosphere of war, the thought of creating a life with the man she loved excited her. However, every so often, images of Marcel and Sophie crept up in her mind and a part of her harboured guilt for moving on with Hans.

She still loved them both deeply and unendingly, but she loved Hans and her son, Klaus, too.

Fortunately for the family, they managed to acquire a residence across the village, a distance away from the farm. However, the house had been deserted for an extended period. Hence, it fell upon Hans to refurbish its dilapidated state, a formidable undertaking he willingly embraced. Each morning, with Yves lending a hand on occasion, they journeyed to the property to renovate the house.

"Oh, not so fast, sweetheart," Isra laughed, scooping up Klaus into her arms. He could walk now and was eager to scurry across the property, should his parents not stop him. "Come on, let's eat. Your papa will be here any moment."

"Pa-Pa!" Klaus cheered, wriggling in her arms.

"Yes, papa. He'll join us soon."

As he grew up, his features increasingly mirrored Hans, from his pale complexion to his light brown hair. Not far from where she was seated on the picnic blanket, she glimpsed the approaching figures of Hans and Yves. With enthusiasm, she eagerly signalled for them to join her, Klaus matching her excitement upon spotting his father.

"Why did it take you so long?" she inquired as soon as Hans settled beside her. Klaus eagerly reached out towards his father, who lifted him onto his lap. "You promised a break at noon, and it's already an hour past."

"We had some tasks upstairs in the bedroom," Yves replied, brushing off his hands on his pants. "Needed to reinstall a few floorboards."

"Now that I'm here, I'm famished!" Hans grinned, reaching for the picnic basket, but Isra swiped his soiled hand away.

"No way. Clean those hands first before touching the food. Your grime will end up everywhere."

Hans grumbled, "But I have to trek back to the house."

"Then you better get moving, dear." She leaned in and gave his cheek a quick peck.

Hans scooped Klaus up in his arms, lifting him high and causing giggles to bubble from the little boy. "You know, Klaus, Mama's always got us in check. She's the boss around here," he said in German.

Their son blinked at his father, not understanding much of what was being said, but grinned a toothless grin, nonetheless.

He got up, perching Klaus on his shoulder, and began making his way to the house.