The meadow was normally a great place to leisurely congregate. Veronica used to come with Carsten on sunny spring days with a picnic basket. Then when the kids were born, they would bring them along. But there would be no leisure tonight. Every person was suspect, and the enemy could be within … disguised in sheep’s clothing. They had to keep moving.
They pushed through the thick crowd until they were blocked by
The Great Lake
. Since swimming wasn’t an option, they took a westerly path.
They didn’t stop until they arrived at
Strawberry Fields
. A pastoral setting with verdant lawns that was dedicated to John Lennon. A group was congregated there, but it was a smaller, more subdued crowd than at the
Sheep Meadow
. It was a rally for peace. With Kingston winning, they believed war was imminent.
If they only knew!
Veronica and the others mixed into the group and even spent a few moments singing along to “Give Peace A Chance” as a guitar player strummed. When in Rome …
But the Gestapo didn’t give it much of one. Veronica spotted them in the distance. It was the two guards who offered them a ride. But they hadn’t been discovered yet, so it was time to move before they were.
“I think we need to split up the cord and the outlet,” Zach said.
Veronica protested at first, but logic was on his side. It would make them less of a sitting duck. Being together might have provided a certain comfort, but it was also increasing the odds of their capture.
“I’ll take Jamie and you take Maggie,” Zach stated assertively.
Veronica contemplated the idea of letting her son out of her sights.
“Guys against girls!” Jamie shouted out.
There was no time to argue. Veronica had to make a decision right now.
Because they had been spotted.
The Gestapo was moving toward them.
As they reached the corner of 72
nd
Street and Central Park West, Veronica began questioning her intuition.
One voice said that Zach was right—the prudent move was to split up the jewels. But her inner-mother was taking issue with the idea.
Before they went their separate ways, Zach whispered in her ear, “I will meet up with you at the West 110
th
Street subway station.”
Veronica didn’t know if it was the comforting tone of his voice, or the intoxicating smell of his cologne, or who knows, the way the planets were aligned, but as he pulled away she planted a juicy kiss on his lips.
Oops.
He looked stunned, but there wasn’t time to plead insanity. She grabbed Maggie’s hand and headed in the opposite direction, fighting every desperate urge to take another look back at Jamie.
Veronica found herself right in front of The Dakota, the apartment building where John Lennon had lived … and died. And just a few blocks up Central Park West was the Museum of Natural History, another favorite of her children. Jamie loved the dinosaurs, while Maggie’s favorite part was feeding the pigeons outside on the museum steps—she always had a thing for the outcast. Veronica had vowed to continue the city experience for the kids after moving back to Pleasantville, but this wasn’t exactly what she had in mind.
She didn’t know why Zach chose the meeting spot he did, but he appeared to be man with a plan. She tightly held Maggie’s hand as they hurried down the steps of the subway station on 72
nd
street.
It seemed like hours until their train arrived. When it did, Veronica and Maggie found a seat in the back. The first thing Maggie said was, “You kissed Mr. Chester.”
Veronica flashed a surprised look. “I did nothing of the sort.”
“Mom …”
“Okay, fine—but it was just a small good luck kiss—like a family kiss.”
“I don’t know what family you’re talking about, but if Uncle Phil ever kissed me like that I’d call the cops.”
“It was nothing, Mags. Besides, he was the one who kissed me.”
“Puhleeze … you totally made the move.”
“Made the move?”
“He was just standing there and you planted one right on his lips.”
“Let’s drop it, Mags, we have bigger issues here.”
Maggie wasn’t easily moved off a subject matter she was interested in. “Did you kiss that guy you went out with the other night?”
“Not that it’s any of your business, but no, I did not. It was just movie and a dinner—like friends. Who told you I went on a date?”
“Uncle Eddie,” Maggie said, her look turning somber.
Veronica put her arm around her. After a lengthy silence, Maggie said, “He tried to do the right thing in the end. He saved us.”
Veronica nodded. She still wasn’t sure what to make of Eddie. But it was a debate for another day.
She was all for changing the subject to something that didn’t include Nazis, Eddie, or dating, but Maggie had other ideas. “I’d give you my approval if you wanted Mr. Chester to be your boyfriend.”
“Your approval?”
“You always say we’re a team.”
“I had no idea you listened to anything I said. And besides, Mr. Chester is married.”
“Does it count if his wife is in jail?”
“It counts even more. Marriage is for better or worse, and the worse part is when things really count.”
“Like when you and Dad used to fight all the time before he died?”
“We had a lot of issues we were trying to work out.”
“Do you think you would’ve gotten divorced if he were still alive?”
Wow—where did this come from?
Veronica had always wanted more mother/daughter heart-to-hearts, but she guessed her own mother was right when she warned her about being careful what she wished for.
“No matter what happened, it wouldn’t have changed how we felt about you and Jamie.”
“That’s totally the way divorced people talk. So what were you guys so mad at?”
“Just typical married stuff—you’ll find out one day.”
“I think you thought he was having an affair with Flavia.”
Affair?
Veronica tried to think if she even knew what that word meant when she was twelve. She wanted to end the conversation, but was hesitant to, since Maggie might not open up again until college. She also didn’t mind the temporary diversion from their current predicament.
“That’s between your Dad and me, and it’s going to stay that way.”
“I don’t know why you would think that—you’re
way
prettier than her.”
And with that one comment all the struggles were worth it.
“Kingston said Dad was involved in this thing,” Maggie continued.
So that’s what was gnawing at her. “No he wasn’t, Mags. He was trying to stop it, just like we are.”
Maggie’s face turned as serious as Veronica had ever seen. “I was there, you know, when he did it.”
“Did what?”
“When he … you know … hit you. I was hiding in the doorway.”
Veronica never felt worse in her life. “Oh, Mags.”
“Did he do it because he had Nazi blood in him? Will I do stuff like that because of the Nazi blood?”
Veronica pulled her as close as possible. “Your father was a good man. It was one bad moment in the fifteen years that I was with him. He loved us so much—and if he were here, he’d tell you that your future is completely up to you, not who you’re related to.”
She hoped.
Maggie looked encouraged. “Uncle Eddie said the same thing. He told me I don’t have to be like them.”
Carsten and Eddie—so different, but always on the same page when it came to family.
Despite the danger surrounding them, the conversation gave Veronica a sense of peace. It made her think back to when she read
The Diary of Anne Frank
back in high school. Veronica was taken by how such a young girl, despite being trapped in an attic while being hunted by the Nazi Gestapo, still could find hope in the most ordinary life events. And now Veronica, through her daughter, had done the same.
Veronica viewed the other passengers on the train. She now understood the fear and paranoia those in Germany had of the Gestapo. Danger could be anywhere. The old lady, the young Asian couple, the Wall Street looking straphangers.
The enemy within.
She looked at Maggie, noticing that her head was drooped toward the floor. Usually she held it up so high and proud. Veronica wondered if she regretted opening up to her. It wasn’t her style.
“What’s wrong, Mags? We’re almost there.”
She sniffled. “I let everybody down. Oma gave me the responsibility to stop this whole mess and now the whole world is going to be ruined because of me.”
Nice expectations to put on a twelve-year-old, Ellen
.
“Honey, this isn’t your fault. And don’t be scared by all this war talk. Right now it’s just that … talk.”
“You don’t get it, Mom … it doesn’t matter if there’s a war or not. If Sterling convinces everybody that the Jewish people were responsible for 9/11, then people will hate them here like they did in Germany. First they couldn’t go to the same schools, and then they were sent off to concentration camps. Even if they don’t take over the world, it will still be a really mean place to live.”
The train stopped at 110th Street station. Veronica took a deep breath, grabbed Maggie’s hand and led her off the train. The hand felt so small, like they’d gone back in time. Veronica’s wary eyes viewed the train platform.
Would Zach be there? Or would the bad guys be waiting for them?
The answer was neither.
Veronica stood with Maggie on the platform as the other riders dispersed in all directions. The station completely emptied out, except for mother and daughter.
Part of Veronica wanted to flee, but would it be safer somewhere else? And if they left, she might miss the chance to reunite with Jamie.
Footsteps echoed in the stairwell. She recognized them—her heart sank.
Had Zach set them up?
Before she could even look up, the two guards from the front of the Waldorf ambushed them. It happened so fast, she didn’t know what hit them, and they were holding Veronica and Maggie at gunpoint.
They needed a miracle.
And then one arrived.
It came in the form of a small boy in a tuxedo. Seemingly appearing out of nowhere, Jamie stood at the end of the platform. He had his hands behind his back like when he plays the “pick a hand” game.
Oh god, don’t let him have a gun,
Veronica
thought.
He smiled. “Catch me if you can,” he said and began backpedaling, which wasn’t very effective. The guard who had hold of Maggie took off towards him and easily caught up to the boy.
But there was a method to his madness. He had backed up to a turnstile. And as the guard leaned in to grab him, Jamie showed his hands for the first time. He didn’t have a gun—but handcuffs—Eddie’s handcuffs! With surprising speed, he cuffed the guard’s hand and then clamped the other cuff onto the turnstile.
Maggie was already running toward the guard. She karate-chopped the gun out of his hand and it fell to the platform. But just as Veronica started warming to the idea of having a weapon of their own, Maggie chucked it as hard as she could into the tracks and announced, “I hate guns!”
The other guard held his weapon tightly to Veronica’s neck and ordered, “Come back here or your mother dies.” His words echoed through the empty station.
Veronica had other ideas. “Run—get out of here—don’t worry about me—run!”
They didn’t listen.
So what’s new?
Maggie and Jamie began darting at the guard like planes to King Kong. Jamie was even making an airplane sound. Always pushing his limits, he buzzed Kong’s tower.
In a moment of indecision, the guard played it halfway. He reached for the precious cargo—Jamie—while trying to hold on to his insurance policy—Veronica. It backfired. He missed Jamie, and loosened his grip on Veronica, allowing her to wriggle away.
She fell to the ground and Maggie pounced on her. Veronica was starting to wonder whose team her daughter was on. “Do the pencil roll, Mom. They can’t shoot me.”
Veronica really didn’t want to test her theory, but they had no other choice. They rolled over the grimy platform, away from the guard. Maggie was clinging close to Veronica’s body, as if she was a second set of skin. The guard couldn’t get a good shot without hitting Maggie, so he set his sights on Jamie.
Then Veronica heard more footsteps coming down the stairwell. Reinforcements.
Damn!
They appeared with guns pointed, yelling, “Freeze!”
But their guns were pointed at the Gestapo guy.