Tulips in Her Hand

Chapter Twelve

Celina felt her hands trembling as she twisted the doorknob. Her skin glistened with perspiration, nearly slipping off the metal knob. And much to her surprise, the door creaked open.

"You're sure we can't just find a cellar to stay for the night," Celina had asked Mariusz, goosebumps forming on her skin. She couldn't tell whether it was from the cool evening air or the fear arising in her gut.

"We could, but curfew's drawing too close. We could get caught out after quite easily; Salzburg isn't quite like the other cities we hid in," he said, " Besides, we have a good chance of them being Resistance workers. It's not like the Austrians enjoy having Germans swarm the streets, setting restrictions."

Celina had sighed, shaking her head. She knew Mariusz was right, yet the whole idea sent blood roaring in her ears. How were they going to get Wren down the stairs without causing any disruption? And despite the fact that the rooms were immersed in darkness, and the entire house seemed to be asleep, Celina couldn't help but feel trepidation. Something could so easily go wrong.

Motioning for the others to follow, she crept inside the old cottage. A musty odor instantly punched her in the face, nearly causing Celina to stumble back outside. She sidled deeper into the hollow. As Mariusz and Anka followed behind, she saw their hands to be empty handed. No stretcher. Wren? she mouthed, yet as soon as the silent words escaped her lips she saw him enter through the doorway, clutching his abdomen. Celina rolled her eyes. It was apparent by the curiosity flaming in his eyes that Wren probably didn't even feel any pain.

It took a while for her eyes to adjust to the dim light, but when they did, panic erupted throughout her entire body. For just a few feet away, a blurred figure lay haphazardly on an upholstered sofa.

Celina froze in her tracks. She felt Anka ram into her back, and then faintly Mariusz into Anka, and then Wren. She cringed at the series of soft thumps. Scanning for a door, any door, Celina desperately willed herself to think of an escape. The figure on the sofa stirred, turning to its side.

And then she felt a rush of movement behind her.

A smattering of feet darting across wooden flooring filled Celina's ears. A series of loud thumps and strained breaths followed; then silence. Spinning around, Celina found the room to be empty around her. And then she saw the door to her left, hanging madly on its side, steps leading down into the depths of a basement. The figure sat up. Celina resisted the urge to cry out, and dashed towards the door. Her shoes squeaked angrily across the floor as she swung the door shut, following Wren and the others into the depths of their hiding place.

Once they were all together in a corner, the only light a flickering candle, Wren collapsed onto the cool cement floor. "D-did he see you?" he stuttered.

"I don't think so," Celina murmured, her gaze fixed on Mariusz. Despite standing, he was slouched against the wall, his eyes squeezed shut as if he were either exhausted or frustrated. She cocked her head. Anka didn't seem to notice.

"This whole thing seems awful risky to me. And all for a bag of useless stuff! Could we have not just gone back out into the wilderness?" Wren said, his whispers vibrant and agitated. He clung to their canvas bag.

Save a few murmurs of furniture rustlings upstairs, everything was silent. Celina, Mariusz, and Anka joined Wren on the floor, fatigue washing like a roaring creek over each of them. Taking the bag from Wren, Celina rifled through it, removing a loaf of bread and a potato. She broke off half and then proceeded to break that half into fourths. She took a couple bites of the potato and her fair share of bread before passing it around to everyone.

"See, it's not 'useless stuff'," Anka whispered, biting into the potato. Wren forced a smile upon his lips, shaking his head.

And then, despite the fear gnawing at her gut and the pain exploding in her head, Celina fell asleep.