The Street Had No Name

Chapter 38

BASQUE LANDS, 1942

By about two that afternoon they reached the small village. Usoa led them to the farm just past the buildings clustered like mushrooms around the small cobblestoned square and down towards the river that ran in the valley that they had been following on the mountain track since earlier that morning.

The collection of huts was nestled in a small clearing in an equally small dell and the group was met on their approach by a rather plump middle aged woman with a small baby hanging off her left hip. Usoa kissed both her cheeks in the Basque manner and introduced the men accordingly. The Monk followed Usoa's example and spoke to the woman for a moment or two as Usoa urged the small flock into the pen to the left side of the main building. The woman was called Alaia Etxeberri. Usoa mentioned to Bidderman that Alaia meant "joyful" or "happy" in Basque and the woman lived up to her name as she welcomed them into her home.

"Alaia is a supporter of our resistance Father." Usoa mentioned to Bidderman as they sat together at the table in the middle of the room drinking dark syrupy coffee from small cups and enjoying almond tarts warm from the skillet and topped with dollops of Natillas, a sweet Basque cream. "She has offered us shelter but I have told her it will be just for a day or two." Usoa looked Bidderman straight in the eye and continued "we can ask no more, it is too dangerous for her and her family." Bidderman nodded, of course it was which made the offer from this gentle smiling lady all that more heartfelt.

Usoa continued that she had explained their situation to Alaia and Alaia had replied that she would consider it an honour to house the "Men of God" and protect them from the lowlanders. Bidderman did not feel guilty with the ruse as he was a Man of God in the strictest sense and any blessing he might have to bestow was equally as sanctified as any other and he happily blessed the small child when asked to do so.

It seemed that Alaia's husband and eldest son where away in the higher mountains with the family's flock of sheep and might be for a few days and that their daughter and second born son were at the small village school till later that afternoon.

Enquiry as to the whereabouts of the Rom returned that the troop were camped about a further five kilometres along the trail at a point where the river split and ran down towards the coast but Alaia could not be sure that they hadn't moved as they were not staying in one place long to avoid any Spanish patrols. In fact Alaia didn't actually say Spanish; she referred to them as something that sounded like pettarra or petjara which Bidderman later established was a vernacular used often for the lower course of the French Basque Country.

Bidderman was starting to realise that the Basque had a healthy disrespect for anyone from the lowlands and from Alaia's perspective the offer to protect them from lowlanders extended beyond the Spanish and, by proxy German, threat, it encompassed just about anyone who lived away from the mountains including the Basques who had fled traditional life to "laze in the towns and cities wasting their time with commerce and trade", at least that was how Usoa translated what Alaia was saying. Bidderman smiled as he listened to the two women talking and laughing together and the Monk interjecting from time to time. He felt safe realising that Alaia's protective mantel would extend to most of the world's population and, as Usoa added later, it would probably include the village a kilometre or two lower down the track "the Basque are very suspicious people Father, even of themselves."

The group held a quick war council while Alaia excused herself to feed the goats they had brought with them and between the gurgling of Alaia's third born son and the bleating of the goats just outside the door it was agreed that they would spend the night in Alaia's hospitality and set off at first light to find the Rom.

"What will we do if we are unable to find them?" asked the Monk as he took the toddler from Usoa and road the giggling infant on his knee. Bidderman saw the smile on Usoa's lips as she watched Bellini slip effortlessly in to this task and once again pondered the stupidity that was celibacy; such madness this he smiled.