Romeo Blue by Phoebe Stone

Gram could sew anything. I had helped her stitch the buttonholes. I had learned to do that in school in England.
    Derek moved without a sound across the room. Hewent right for his closet door, opened it gently, and we both crawled down the long space to the other door, which was already open a crack.
    My heart sank as we sat there together on the floor, looking into the dark gymnasium and listening to the rattle and click of the film as it ran through the projector. On the screen in the long room, the film brightened, halted, and became shadowy and dark and then brightened again. There was a German soldier, an officer walking towards the camera. His face flickered by. He was getting in a car. A Nazi flag fluttered behind him.
    Mr. Stephenson said, “Okay, now, this is Colonel Helmut Ludswig, a Gestapo officer, who will be taking over as head of the prison on February second. And as you can see, it’s rather remarkable. We were quite excited when we realized how much he resembles you, Gideon, with the exception of the mustache, of course. You’ll start growing your mustache soon, I hope?”
    “Yes,” said Gideon.
    “So you will be posing as this man. You will arrive on February first, a day early, unexpectedly, at his prison post in Limoges. The man in charge, who will be leaving, is the only man who has met Colonel Ludswig face-to-face and knows what he actually looks like. Therefore we must make sure this man is off duty the night that Gideon arrives. Perhaps a woman agent of ours could invite him out to dinner.”

    “We already have someone in place for that job,” said The Gram.
    “Excellent,” said Big Bill. Now there were photos of the large, dark-looking prison. Nazi soldiers stood at attention outside the gate. “We’ll work it all out in advance. The whole procedure down to the smallest detail. We are building a simulation of the prison now. The movie-set designer from California is working on it. When you come up to the facility outside of Toronto, it should be all finished.”
    I sat back against the wall. I held my hand over my mouth because I was afraid I might shout out. A terrible tornado was ripping through my heart. Then Derek pulled gently on my arm. “Hush,” he whispered. “Shhh.”
    I was on my knees but I fell to my face. I put my hands over my ears. I didn’t want to hear any more. Then Derek tugged on my sleeve, pulling me back through the passageway. As soon as I was in his room, I dropped forward, facedown on the floor again. My tears fell on the wooden surface, my mouth pressed against the polished pine. “Why is Uncle Gideon going to a prison?” I whispered. Derek closed the closet door. I could feel more tears and sobs threatening to come up out of me in a howling sort of way.
    Derek put his hand on the back of my head as I lay there. “Oh, Fliss, don’t think about it,” he said. “Don’t worry, Gideon will get them out.”

    “Get who out?” I said, sitting up and shaking my head back and forth. “Who do you mean? Who?” I put my hands over my ears again.
    “Flissy,” said Derek, “listen to me.”
    “No, no. Leave me alone. You don’t mean Winnie and Danny. You don’t mean that Winnie and Danny have been caught? Are they in prison, Derek? Don’t say that. Don’t say one more word!”

The next morning, Big and Little Bill and Uncle Gideon were full of jokes. They were calling my father Colonel and asking him where his mustache went. “Lost it on the way to the races, did you, Colonel?” Big Bill said, slapping him on the back. We all went out on to the front porch before breakfast to see the sun rise. I hadn’t wanted to. Everyone kept making jokes but nothing seemed funny to me at all.
    Even when Sir William Percy came flying in for some food, I wasn’t cheered. “You see, Gideon,” said The Gram, “I told you that seagull would become a nuisance.” When Sir William Percy took a liking to Little Bill and put his head in Little Bill’s jacket pocket