Chapter 4: You all make me happy
After about two minutes, father arose slowly, staying in a seated position as he scanned the cloudless sky. The rest of us, at his command, remained low, blowing acid-green fronds away from our faces as they attempted to tickle our sensitive skin. Gretl began to sniff quietly, and I heard a shuffle of leaves towards the direction of mother.
Swivelling around, ignoring the noise, I watched father as he continued to scan the skies. His body was at full alert, no slouching, no hunched shoulders. He looked like a proper sea captain… well… I'm guessing that's what they look like. Finally satisfied that we were safe, he told us, quietly, to stand up and keep moving.
My pockets felt remarkably light, and as I reached in, I instantly knew something was missing. My book. Where was my book? Panicking, I blew the hair out of my face and got down on all fours, desperately searching for the only thing keeping my nerves at bay. It was a dull, faded orange colour, with a unique cover, rendering it easy to spot. And yet, I couldn't. The others were already leaving, having forgotten to do a head count, but I wouldn't leave my book.
"Where are you?" I whispered, as if talking to the pages themselves.
"Brigitta we're going, come on," I heard Friedrich call from a distance.
"I'll be right there!" I yelled, stumbling through the grass and parting it with my dirty hands.
After a few moments of searching, I sadly gave up, following Friedrich away from the grassy domain. Oh, how long it must've taken for mother to rewrite that book page by page. She'll be so cross that I managed to lose it. How foolish of me to bring it along… Reaching into my other pocket, I pulled out the half-squashed edelweiss. Two petals had been completely torn off, and I held them on carefully on my open palm.
Having practically slipped down into the grass, I had scratched my palm against a sharp rock, causing it to bleed a little. It wasn't serious, but it stung. We hadn't even brought anything to help it with us, so I'll have to go without…
A bit of the blood puddled beneath one of the petals, colouring some of the bottom of the soft surface crimson. I blew the other petal from my palm, watching it flutter down into the grass, and used the remaining one to keep soaking up the blood slowly drizzling down my hand. The white turned to a pink colour, and when I was sure the bleeding had stopped, I blew this petal from my palm.
"Mother," I caught up to her, "I lost Swallows and Amazons."
"It's OK, Brigitta. I'm sure I'll be able to buy you another," she smiled down at me, no hint of anger in her voice at all.
"But you took your time to write it, and now it's hidden in that grass somewhere," I mumbled, a shuddering sigh quietly rolling off the tip of my tongue.
"I'm not bothered about that. Listen, I didn't write that book because I needed to. I wrote that book because I knew you would love it. And if my children love something, then I know I've done my job alright. This is my first time being a mother, having only stampeded on your lives not a year ago," she explained.
"You didn't stampede, you did the exact opposite of that. Mother, you helped us learn what life is really like, and you changed father's mind. That was something none of us could do, but you did. We're all grateful for that," I looked over at Liesl, who had joined our conversation.
I nodded in agreement, smiling broadly up at them both. My sadness had completely gone, replaced with a feeling of happiness. My family was somewhat complete, with father finally being able to love again, and us children having the mother we so desperately needed all these years. I am certainly shocked, if I must be honest, that it would be like this again. But it is, and nothing is going to change that. Absolutely nothing.
Time skip: 5 hours. Third Person POV
A trudge of boots can be heard, with a dozen of different sounds parting the fronds of grass. Hitler's youth soldiers search the undergrowth, using torches as night was upon them. Herr Zeller lead them, angry searching the area with his beady little eyes. One of the boys, Rolf, whom Liesl had a relationship with, called out, beckoning all the youth soldiers to walk towards him.
In his hands he held a small, slightly torn, very dusty, faded orange book. Herr Zeller snatched it from him, his force so brutal that it nearly pushed the young boy over, and turned to the first page.
Dear Brigitta,
I know how much you love reading, my dear. Consider it an early – very early – birthday present if you will. I'm sure you will adore this book very much indeed.
Love, Maria
Herr Zeller's moustache twitched upwards into an ugly looking smile. His eyes gleamed triumphantly, knowing the Von Trapps were here was enough to please him. He patted Rolf's shoulder, praising him for the find, before leaving the grassy area and back down the mountainside towards the little town, who's lights glistened above the clear, dark lake…