The Gathering Storm Read Online Free PDF Page A

Mommy?"
    Jessica squared her shoulders and looked beyond the Fiat toward the small churchyard where Mama was buried. Her headstone had not yet been put in place on the grave. "No, Gina. No, baby. Daddy won't be going with us."
    I slid my arm around my sister's waist. "Jessica?"
    "Don't, Loralei. Don't talk sweet to me right now. I'll break."
    So, the Germans had sliced through the lines like a hot knife through butter. The worst fears of what remained of unoccupied Europe were coming true. Hitler had broken his promises to the neutral nations.
    The sirens fell silent. The sound of feet and handcarts trudging on the road filled the night. An occasional sniffle could be heard.
    Jessica bit her lip, then returned to the task at hand. She arranged a bed in the backseat of Papa's auto for Gina and tucked her in. Baby things and boxes of emergency food and water, and Mama's medical supplies from her years as a nurse were stashed in the trunk, out of reach of the hands of hungry exiles.
    Papa's black 1928 Fiat 528 convertible had been an elegant auto mobile in its day, but years of hauling seminary students on mission trips across Europe had left its once-sleek black finish dull and dinged. Mama had told me more than once as Papa set out on his journeys that the Fiat reminded her of a packed prairie schooner heading west across the Rockies to the Promised Land.
    Where was the Promised Land tonight? I wondered, as refugees streamed past Alderman. I plucked two sprigs of lilac blossoms. One, I tucked into my Bible. The other I carried to Papa.
    Papa tightened the cords around the suitcases and boxes tied to the running boards. "The tank is full of petrol." He seemed comforted that he had been wise with the rations. Perhaps wise enough to save his family.
    "Papa?" I nodded toward the cemetery gate and handed him the lilac sprig.
    "Yes...yes," he answered, then strode away briskly. The hinges of the gate groaned as he entered. Minutes passed. He returned without the lilac bloom and hurried past us. I heard the jingle of keys as he locked the front door of the stone cottage.
    A futile gesture in the face of the Blitzkrieg.
    I climbed into the front seat beside Papa. Jessica sat in the back, cradling Gina's head as the child slept. The engine roared to a start. The Fiat lurched a bit as Papa pulled it from the garage, and it rumbled down the driveway.
    I turned my face to look back one last time. Memories flooded my mind, and I relived the days when I first loved Eben Golah, and Varrick first loved me.
     
     
     
     
     
    PART TWO
    A time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing.
    ECCLESIASTES 3:5B
     
     
    1936
    The summer of the Olympic games, Berlin filled with people from all over the globe. Nazi propaganda against Jews quieted down for a time. Demonstrations of Aryan superiority and the smooth workings of National Socialism in a former democracy took center stage. For a short time the borders to free nations were open for us to travel.
    My father obtained tickets for us to see the American track team perform superbly. Then we left the oppressive heat of Germany and crossed the border into Switzerland, where my parents had arranged for us to stay in a cottage at a resort near Geneva.
    It was late afternoon when we stepped from the train. Suddenly I noticed a tangible difference in the expressions of the people on the platform. They were smiling. Their eyes seemed clear. They spoke to one another without turning their heads from side-to-side to see who might be listening. Outside the oppression of Germany I felt as if I could breathe freely. The air of Switzerland was pure and the sky more blue than I had ever seen. I felt so happy to be alive. I did not think of what was happening in Germany.
    A white-haired woman of about fifty years of age hurried toward us and our heaps of luggage. I knew she recognized my parents, though I had never met her. Her eyes were blue like the Swiss heavens. She greeted my parents cheerfully, "I