“What happened to you?” a boy she’d never liked asked her as she limped in, looking dazed.
“I had an accident on the way to school,” she said, and didn’t want to tell him what had happened to the Feldmanns. She didn’t trust anyone now. In an instant, everything had changed.
“Where’s Rebekah?” he asked her as she started to walk away, and she didn’t answer, and then murmured over her shoulder.
“I don’t know. Maybe she’s sick.” Or dead, Gaëlle thought with a wave of terror. She had to find her, no matter what the cook had said. She wasn’t going to forget her, or any of her family. Wherever they were being held, she was going to locate them.
She sat blindly through school all day, and afterward grabbed her bike and rode home alone, and went to find her father as soon she got there. He was just coming back from the stables, leading a lame horse. She had ridden past the Feldmanns’ home and had seen soldiers and an officer parked outside, and some of the men were carrying trunks and suitcases. They were moving into the house.
She told her father what had happened that morning, and he frowned as he listened.
“Did anyone see you there? The soldiers, I mean?” he asked harshly.
“No, I waited until they left.” But she didn’t tell him Rebekah had seen her, and for an instant their eyes had met, before they threw her into the truck. “Then I went in and talked to the cook. She didn’t know where they took them.”
“To a detention camp,” he said with certainty, and he was visibly shocked too. He had been afraid of something like this. He had heard stories like it happening in Paris, but not in Lyon yet, or the surrounding area. And if they were taking people like the Feldmanns, no Jew would be safe anywhere. “I don’t want you going back to the house, or trying to find out where she is. You can’t go to see her, Gaëlle. Is that understood? They won’t tell you anyway. And it’s dangerous to even ask.”
“I have to find her, Papa,” Gaëlle said miserably.
“No, you don’t!” he shouted at her. “Now go to your room.” Gaëlle was crying when she walked into the house, and lay down on her bed, as the hideous scene she’d watched that morning played again and again in her head. And her mother was just as stern with her that night. She knew how much the two girls loved each other, but that was over now. All it could bring was trouble to them if Gaëlle persisted in attempting to locate her.
“Promise me you won’t try to find her,” her mother said, looking pale and sick. She didn’t know the Feldmanns well, except from school events, but it was obvious that they were dangerous people to know now. And if they’d been taken away, it was reasonable to assume they’d be sent to a detention camp, where Jews were being held, or even a labor camp somewhere, possibly in Germany or the east. But for now, the Jews being rounded up were being detained in France. But there was talk, and rumors, of worse to come.
Gaëlle refused to come downstairs for dinner, and when her parents insisted, she couldn’t eat. There was no school the next day, so she stayed in bed, thinking about Rebekah. And two days later, she heard two of her father’s tenant farmers talking about Jews being picked up the week before, and taken to Chambaran camp in Vienne, thirty-five miles south of Lyon and eleven miles from Valencin. Gaëlle felt as though God had wanted her to have that information, and the following day, instead of riding her bike to school, she rode almost two hours into the countryside on back roads, and she saw an encampment that she had never seen before. It was a vast area, surrounded by high metal and wood fences, with some huts and tents inside, and a large barn or stables, where she could see people coming in and out, carrying their belongings. There were men and women and children of all ages milling around, and guards with guns patrolling them, but there were not as many as she had feared there would be, and she saw no dogs with the soldiers, and no guard towers, which was a relief.
She rode along a rutted lane on her bike, and no one noticed her, and at one point the narrow country lane came close to the fence, and she stood watching for a while, and by sheer miracle she saw Michel, one of Rebekah’s brothers. She waved to him, and he saw her and approached the fence.
“What are you doing here?” he said, looking shocked.
“I came to see how you are. Where’s Rebekah?” He smiled at the familiar face with the long blond braids, although at home he would have teased and tormented her with pleasure.
“She’s inside, with Mama and Lotte. Papa had some money they didn’t find, and he paid someone to get us a place inside the barn. It’s freezing cold outside at night.” It was nearly Christmas, and there was ice on the ground.
“Can I see her?” Gaëlle asked nervously.
“You’re crazy to be here. If they catch you, they’ll throw you in with us.”
“No, they won’t. I’m not a Jew,” she said sensibly, and he nodded and promised to tell his sister she was there. Gaëlle waited ten minutes and wondered if he was coming back, and then she saw her, in a thin dress with no coat. She hadn’t had time to put on her coat when they took them. Only her father had been wearing one, and he had given it to his wife when they arrived at the camp, and Lotte was huddled under it with her in the barn. The boys had sweaters on, and Rebekah only the wool dress she was going to wear to school. She was shivering when she approached the fence with a look of wonder to see Gaëlle. She thought her brother was playing a joke on her when he told her Gaëlle was there.