White Daisies

Chapter 13

Warning: this chapter does contain one swear word

December 14, 1940

They shouldn't be here.

No, they shouldn't be. But they are.

I think about what my father said all those months ago. This is our enemy.

I stare at the Nazi officers sitting a few tables away, my leg bouncing up and down. Their brown-green uniforms made dull by the scarlet band tied around their biceps. One of them moves his arm backward, and I can see the black swastika on it. I look at the clock on the wall and wonder where Frances and Eva are.

Light streams in the window, the sky bright and beautiful despite the bitter cold that exists outside. I'm at the cafe a couple blocks up from our school. A yellow cup of coffee sits in front of me on a small plate, my hands wrapped around it to sap its warmth. The lights hang low in the brick interior. Customers sit happily at the lunch counter, enjoying Coca Colas and sandwiches on their lunch break. Clouds of cigarette smoke linger in the air and make everything look slightly hazy. It's a cozy place to be tucked away in. I would almost be content if it weren't for the Nazis that surround me. The hair stands up on my arms just at the thought of them.

My thoughts are interrupted by Eva and Frances walking through the door. I see their eyes searching the crowded cafe for me. I give them a wave, and they make their way over to where I'm sitting.

We were all equally horrified with what we witnessed. Eva hardly stopped crying for days; she would calm down for a few minutes, but would then suddenly burst out into tears. She had to leave class when someone behind us started talking about the war. She tried to get the guilt out of her skin by picking at it, so her arms were stippled with scabs that were visible when she rolled up her sleeves. Even now, she picks at the end of her skirt, as if she needs to distract herself from the inner confines of her mind. Her cheerful and spirited nature had been stolen away by a thief in the night, and the crook had left behind a quieter version in its place.

Frances had cried a little bit, but she processed her grief in a different way than Eva and I did. We were loud and angry lions, roaring at the top of our lungs for the innocence that we lost. Frances was a sea, her presence easy and calming, like quiet waves lapping against the shore. However, something more profound and darker existed within her. Something was stirring underneath the water. I had a feeling that soon enough, the anger that she had bottled up inside would form thirty foot waves that would crash violently against the rocks. Her bright green eyes and light voice weren't enough to conceal the fact that what happened to us was bothering her too.

They both order cups of coffee when they sit down. The waitress brings them to us, and Eva immediately puts a spoonful of sugar in hers while Frances drinks hers black. We're quiet for a few minutes in the bustling atmosphere of the cafe.

Frances is the first one to lean forward. "What are we doing here?"

I flit my gaze from the coffee cup in my hands to meet her eyes. I look around for a few seconds to make sure that no one is listening to our conversation. Everyone seems to be preoccupied with themselves, not particularly caring about what three teenage girls are discussing.

Still careful, I lower my voice. "I think we join the resistance."

Eva stops picking at her skirt and quickly leans forward. "The what?"

Frances and I immediately shush her. I look around to make sure nobody heard us, but everybody seems to be minding their own business.

"The resistance. There's an anti-Nazi movement in Copenhagen. It's pretty disorganized, but the rebels are sneaking information outside of Denmark to the Allies. To make war end faster," I whisper.