The Letter Carrier by L.C. Lewis

Author:L.C. Lewis
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: L.C. Lewis

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Dusk settled in at five. The Germans had yet to return. Father wasn’t back and Mother hadn’t called, so I fed the little boys and sent them back upstairs with a caution to remain in their rooms and be quiet until bedtime.

A lone figure approached from City Hall, carrying a lamp. I jumped from my chair and backed against the wall to hide before gathering the courage to face the pending knock on the door.

“Michelle . . . It’s M. Latrobe,” a voice whispered through the wood. “Let me in.”

The hushed greeting from the village’s mayor calmed my nerves like warm milk on a cold night—comforting, reassuring. I opened the door, and as the middle-aged man slipped his round torso through the entryway, his eyes scanned the rooms to be sure we were alone.

“Your father came to me and explained about Jacques’ accident.”

He closed his eyes and crossed himself quickly, and though his manner seemed caring and helpful, I wondered how much Father had told him, and whether Father or the Germans had sent him to our door.

“Your brother didn’t complete the PTT route yesterday, and people are asking why. Little things create such a stir in the village these days. Everyone feels so unsettled.” His eyebrows rose as he finished his thought. “And we don’t want to draw attention to Jacques’ absence.”

The mayor had been Mother and Father’s friend for years, but the Nazis had forced him to also be their mouthpiece, using his history with the community to soften the delivery of their edicts. Being unsure whose cause he served that day, I stood blank faced and silent as he continued.

“We must have a PTT officer, Michelle, and the transfer must appear logical and seamless to avoid upsetting the German leadership. You are the obvious choice.”

An hour earlier, I was certain we were going to be arrested or lined up and shot. Instead, we began discussing tomorrow . . . a future. No assignment, no matter how terrible the job of PTT officer could be, was more frightening than the outcome I had previously expected.

“I’ll do it,” I said.

“Very good.” He sighed long and low. “Thank you.”

Headlights appeared at the edge of town, headed for our house. I whimpered at the sight, and the mayor’s arm slid around my shoulder. “I will stay until your father gets home. You were preparing le dîner? Continue, and I’ll handle the Germans.”

I slid the quiches into the oven and finished setting the table when the kommandant, his guests, and officers entered.

“How long until dinner?” he asked with his characteristic brusqueness.

His arrogant tone and the normalcy of his question calmed my nerves a bit. “Twenty minutes, Herr Kommandant,” I replied with my head dipped in submission.

He squinted at the mayor and asked, “M. Latrobe? Why are you here? And where is Madame Naget?”

I watched the mayor’s fretful face assume a look of calm concern as he danced around the question with the nimbleness of a ballerina. “Good evening, Herr Kommandant. Before

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