Read Isabel’s War for Free Online

followed quickly by an almost inaudible “ Shh .”
    Something is going on, and I instantly smother the instinct to jump up and make inquiries.
    â€œHelga, come on out. Can’t you?”
    It’s the first voice again, and it seems to be coming from the window that is almost directly above my head, which looks out onto the pine forest behind the annex.
    â€œ Ach, nein . It’s too dangerous.”
    Helga’s voice is so close that it almost feels as though she’s in bed with me. Actually, she must be crouching on the floor just beneath the window between our two beds.
    â€œThen I’ll come in. Is she fast asleep? Is the door open?”
    â€œ Nein , nein , you cannot. Wait, I come out. I meet you in the back.”
    I don’t dare move. I can hear Helga softly rustling into some sort of garment and tiptoeing out the front door, which she gently closes.
    There’s only a narrow thorny space between the back of the annex and the pinewoods, where Roy has somehow managed to get to our window. Where willthey go now...will Helga join him near the window or will they go deeper into the forest? Or do they have some other place for a rendezvous?
    My heart is pounding as I crawl out of bed, listening for the sound of their voices. I peer out the rear window...nothing. I even open the door a crack. No one is in sight. Perhaps I was only dreaming that Helga left our room in the middle of the night to be with Roy. But I give Helga’s bed a poke and sure enough, it’s empty.
    Time passes. I’m so flustered at catching Helga playing Juliet to Roy’s Romeo that I don’t know how I feel about my discovery. In one way it’s exciting...a mystery. She’s only known him one day and already there’s a certain intimacy between them. What has drawn them together so strongly that he would sneak back to Moskin’s in the dark to be with her?
    But while I’m looking for answers, I’m also having envious thoughts toward Helga. I’m even going so far as to wonder if I’m going to tell on her. Does she have to have everything...a great figure, stunning hair and eyes, the concern and sympathy of all the guests at Moskin’s, tossed kisses from Harry the waiter and hot-eyed stares from the busboys, my dungarees, and Roy?
    I get back into bed and crawl under the covers, keeping my ears open for Helga’s return. I’ve decided I’ll play dead when she comes back and see if I can read any signs of what’s going on when I see her in the morning.
    Did I fall asleep again? I must have. Because the next thing I know I’m awakened by a funny squeaking sound. There are tiny animals, field mice especially, that easily find their way into the rooms at Moskin’s.
    I sit up in bed and reach for the fly swatter that hangs on a hook above me. It’s still completely dark out. How am I going to shoo the creature out, whatever it is, without knowing where it is? I’m just about to reach for the flashlight under my pillow, when I hear the squeaking again. This time, though, it’s followed by a sniffle. Squeak...sniffle. Squeak...sniffle. Squeak...sniffle . There’s a rhythm that isn’t exactly mouse-like.
    I get out of bed, pad across the short distance to Helga’s bed, and give it a poke, like the last time, but maybe just a little bit harder.
    There’s a shriek. Helga sits up in bed.
    â€œOh,” I gasp. “It’s you.”
    Helga’s voice is throaty. “ Ach, Isabel, I’m sorry if I’ve waked you.”
    I can tell for sure now that she’s been crying or at least weeping.
    â€œWaked me. Well, not exactly. Um, is anything wrong?”
    Helga’s long hair is tangled around her face and chest. I can see that much in the dark. And her face is pale. “Only my leg aches a bit,” she explains. “I went tothe bathhouse to bathe it with cool water. And also,” she adds, “to use the