Free In This Hospitable Land by Jr. Lynmar Brock Page A

with long-tilled crops planted in narrow fields, speckled by grazing cows and sheep. Alongside the roadway, lining the hard surface of black macadam, scraggly weeds flitted between straight and ordered trees.
    After traveling several hours, they found themselves just south of Abbeville, at Blangy-sur-Bresle. André signaled his intention to turn off for a road heading further west of Paris.
    “Shouldn’t we keep going straight?” Geneviève asked, pointing out a sign indicating the direction of the French capital. “Lilla lives south of Paris in the Loire Valley.”
    “I think we need to stay to the west,” André explained. “It would be too easy to get delayed or lost in the confusion of the big city. And if what we heard yesterday about panic there is true…” André trailed off, focusing on merging onto the highway west. “This road seems better able to handle the traffic anyway.”

     
    Their progress continued and their pace picked up a bit. But as the hours passed and road signs became scarce Louis asked, wearily and warily, “Where are we?”
    “I’m not exactly sure,” André admitted.
    Concentrated quiet followed. The sun cast varying shadows on the road that ran straight for some distance and then twisted alongside a meandering stream, passing through a village of neat, orderly houses lining narrow sidewalks on either side—one house after another with little variation, shutters open to reveal white lace curtains framing clear, clean glass windows. At night the shutters would be closed tight securing each family within its own domain.
    In the center of a village an imposing church stood back from the road, its single spire reaching toward the sky as high as the faith and money of villagers of times past had allowed. Leaning forward to point out this landmark Geneviève accidentally brushed against little Philippe, who pushed back and inadvertently hit his sister in the process.
    “Ouch!” Katie squealed.
    “Stop it!” Alex yelled.
    “But he started it!” Katie whined.
    “Now you’re pushing me!” Ida complained, giving her female cousin a little shove.
    “I’m warning you,” Alex growled threateningly. “All of you!”
    “Shouldn’t we stop to let the children get some exercise?” Denise asked diplomatically.
    “That might be best, dear,” Geneviève added, trying to appease her husband.
    “We need to keep going,” André cautioned, “to get far from the Germans as quickly as we possibly can.”
    The market town’s houses abruptly came to an end. The fields again began spreading out into the distance.
    Then Katie said, shamefaced, “I need to go pee-pee.”
    Exasperated, Alex demanded, “Are you sure?”
    “Yes, Papy. Badly.”
    “I’ll find a place,” André sighed. “She’s probably not the only one in need.”

     
    Short as their roadside stop was, it was long enough for the road to become congested.
    “Anyone mind if I turn on the radio?” Alex asked.
    Without waiting he turned on the news. The previous day’s rumors about the German breakthrough at Sedan, a few hours northeast of Paris, were true. Thousands of civilians were fleeing west and south, clogging highways and stranding Allied military transports, turning them into easy targets for Luftwaffe attacks.

     
    They traveled on as the sun began to sink into the western horizon over the famous cathedral spires of the nearby city of Rouen.
    “Maybe we should stop there for the night?” Louis suggested tentatively.
    “Alex,” Geneviève piped up, “didn’t we spend a lovely time near here one night at that little inn along the river?”
    “It’s not very far,” he said. “Les Andelys. A little east and upstream of Rouen.”
    “Why not just stay in the city?” tired Louis asked a little grumpily.
    “You and Mother will really like this place,” Alex replied, “especially after last night.”
    “Let’s just hope they’re open,” André cautioned.
    “And that you can find it again,” Denise