Sisterchicks in Wooden Shoes! (11 page)

Noelle slowed down in front of a row of small houses. She stopped the car. No place to park was in view, so she left the car double-parked with the keys in the ignition and the engine running.

“I’ll be right back,” she called to me as she jumped out. “You should be fine here, but if you have to move, just drive around the block.”

She reached for the suitcase in the backseat. Zahida got out, and I sat alone in the running car. I looked out the window. Zahida and I shot wary glances at each other before averting our eyes. Noelle whisked her off into the unassuming house.

A moment later Noelle’s cell phone rang. I let it ring and kept looking over my shoulder, watching for cars. Several smaller ones scooted around with no problem. Then a van came. A great big van with an impatient driver. His persistent honking didn’t draw Noelle out of the house.

Don’t be afraid. You can do this.

With my heart racing at near aerobic level, I slipped out the passenger side of the car and hurried around to the driver’s side. I avoided eye contact with the van’s driver. After sliding into the driver’s seat, I studied the stick shift and the control panel. Nothing appeared different from the sort of cars I was used to.

The van driver honked his horn again.

Just then the cell phone rang a second time. I gripped the steering wheel and moved forward nice and slow. My hand must
have activated the hidden button that answered the phone because a female voice suddenly filled the car with a greeting in Dutch.

“Ah, hello,” I called back to the mystery voice. “Um…Noelle isn’t here right now. Do you want to call back?”

“Who is this?” the caller asked.

At that moment I realized I had missed the turn I needed to loop around the block back to where Noelle was. Now I was heading toward the downtown traffic with the impatient van driver bearing down on me.

This was not good. Not good at all.

G
et off my tail!” I shouted to the driver of the van that was bearing down on me while I tried to navigate Noelle’s car down a narrow street.

“Excuse me? Hello?” the voice on Noelle’s cell phone called out.

“Sorry. I, uh…” I couldn’t see a place to pull over or to head down another street. I was stuck in the press of the traffic. A bell was consistently chiming, and I realized I hadn’t fastened the seat belt. I tried to stabilize the steering wheel with the top of my thigh and slip the seat belt into the slot. I had managed to do a lot of multitasking over the years, but this was a stretch even for me.

“Are you still there?” the female voice asked.

“Yes, I’m still here although I have no idea where
here
is.”

“Is this Summer?”

“Yes.” Apparently anyone who knew the ins and outs of Noelle’s life could come to the speedy conclusion of who the confused American on the other end of the phone call must be.

“This is Tara. I’m Noelle’s daughter.”

“Yes, Tara! Hi.” I felt as if I were talking to a friend.

“My mother said you were going to Amsterdam today. Where are you?”

“I have no idea.”

“Where is my mom?”

“I don’t know. She picked up a woman and took her to someone’s house and…oh no! I can turn now, but I don’t know which way to go.”

“You’re actually driving her car?”

“Yes!”

“Where are you?”

“I’m coming up on a major intersection.”

I was out of the neighborhood district and into the thick of traffic. Several options presented themselves to me at once. Before Tara could advise me, I made a split-second decision and turned left, hoping it would allow me to return to the road I was just on.

My theory failed.

The left turn led to another intersection where I had to make another decision, and that left turn led me farther away from where I had started.

“This is very bad. But at least the van is off my tail.”

“Can you pull over anywhere?” Tara asked.

“No, I don’t see any place to park.”

“Then just keep going until you can pull over.”

“Okay, but don’t hang up, whatever you do.”

“Don’t worry; I won’t.”

I followed Tara’s instructions and kept driving. For all I knew I was on my way to Belgium!

“Can you describe anything around you?”

I had managed to turn onto a street that didn’t have as much traffic. The buildings all looked similar to what I had seen in much of Holland—brick, three stories tall, with rooflines that rose up in a whimsical fashion, as if they had been shaped with a giant cookie cutter. More-modern buildings popped up along the way, but nothing struck me as unique enough to mention as a landmark.

“I think I can turn into a small parking lot here. Yes. I’m turning. It looks like a church. Not an old church, though. It looks new. It has a cross on the top.”

I pulled the car into one of the only open spaces.

“Are you safe now?” Tara asked.

“Yes. I’m off the road at least. If I turn off the engine, do you think it will affect the cell phone?”

“No, the phone should stay on. If it doesn’t, I’ll call back.”

I turned off the engine and leaned back, drawing in a deep breath. All I could think at the moment was that Wayne would never believe what I had just done. Whenever we went anywhere, I always let him drive. All the years of being the family taxi driver had sent me into a transporting hiatus. I never tried to navigate new routes at home. This experience was so far out of my comfort zone it was ridiculous.

Tara’s voice sounded louder now that the engine was off. “Do you remember anything else my mother said about where you were going?”

“We were planning to go to Amsterdam, but she received a call, and we went the opposite direction. She said we had to stop and see a hag and then—”

“Did she say ‘
Den Haag
? That’s The Hague. Are you in The Hague now?”

“Oh. Possibly.” Obviously, The Hague was a place and not a person. I should have known that.

“If you’re in The Hague, the traffic is always difficult. My mother probably took the woman to Belinda’s. Did you see a little dog there at the house? A Scottie dog?”

“No, I didn’t go inside. I was waiting in the car. We were double-parked, and Noelle said I should drive around the block if I had to move the car. A van came up behind me, and I started driving. That’s when you called. But I think I heard the name Belinda earlier in the conversation or when Noelle was on the phone. I don’t remember.”

“That’s okay. This is making more sense. Can you see any street signs or a sign at the church?”

I spelled the words I could see on a sign posted in the parking area. The name of the church was included in what Tara said was a warning that parking was not open to the general public on weekdays. The name of the church was all Tara needed as a clue.

“You are in The Hague, and you are not far from Belinda’s. But don’t try to drive back to her house. Stay where you are. Even if someone comes and tells you the parking is not for public use, do not leave. I will call Belinda. My mother can come to you more easily than you could drive back to her.”

I did as Tara said. I figured out how to hang up the phone, and then I sat alone and waited. I couldn’t remember a time when I had felt so out there and isolated, not to mention embarrassed.

How did all that happen? How did I get so far off track so fast? How humiliating! What if Tara hadn’t called when she did? I probably would still be driving with that van on my rear bumper. I can’t believe I got so lost.

After the first fifteen minutes or so of scolding myself, I leaned back. All I could do was wait. Wait and hope that Noelle found me.

I could hear the steady roar of the city traffic outside the car window. Inside the warm car I was comfortable and calmed. For the first time since I had rushed into the driver’s seat, I thought about praying. The first words that came to mind were,
The Lord is my shepherd
.

“And that makes me a little lost sheep,” I muttered. I definitely felt like a lost sheep in need of a shepherd. How poetic that the place I had at last found to stop and rest at was a church. The Lord had herded me here. He was protecting me.

I didn’t like that image very much. I liked the protection part, of course. I hadn’t crashed the car or driven off into the North Sea. But I didn’t like feeling lost.

I also didn’t feel confident in the driver’s seat. It would be easy to draw a lot of life parallels from that thought, but I didn’t want to go down that road, so to speak. I was fully aware of my weaknesses and deficiencies. Since I had arrived in the Netherlands, the Lord seemed to find a steady stream of creative ways to make clear to me that He was the One who wanted to be in control of my life.

Am la slow learner or what?

I rubbed the back of my tensed neck and hoped God wouldn’t answer that one. I decided I couldn’t do much about the situation. I was here. That’s all I knew. Noelle was coming. I would wait. And I would try to think of something other than the humiliation I felt over being stranded.

The tulip fields came to mind. Ah yes. The magnificent, alluring tulips that had unfolded their breathtaking beauty to us in the sunshine. That’s what I had hoped this trip to the Netherlands would bring. In moments like the ones we had experienced two days ago, I had found it easy to be at peace and to trust that God had everything under control. I reminded myself that He delighted in creating peace and beauty and in pouring out His love, warmth, and hope on all His creation.

I liked settling into that sort of mind-set with God much more than the scenario in which I was the little lost lamb and He had to carry me around because I was incapable of managing on my own.

For the next twenty minutes I kept watch and waited.

Noelle arrived on foot. She later said she had walked only “a few kilometers.” I had seen her walk and knew she could cover a significant stretch of town in a short time.

I gladly turned over the driver’s seat to her. She apologized for leaving me in such an awkward situation, and I assured her she didn’t need to apologize.

“Did everything turn out okay? With Zahida, I mean?”

“Yes.” Noelle nodded. “It’s pretty extraordinary. Zahida recently became a Christian.”

I hadn’t expected Noelle to say that. I turned to face her to make sure I had heard correctly. “She’s a Christian? But she was dressed like…”

Noelle waited for me to finish my assumption. I didn’t. Obviously I had done just that, made an assumption based on what a woman looked like. Wasn’t that a lesson I had sought to teach my children? Why didn’t I have that truth rooted in my own heart?

Noelle pulled the car out of the church parking area and skillfully directed us back into the flow of traffic.

Ignoring my unfinished comment, she said, “This morning Zahida told her mother she was a Christian, and she was turned out of their home. I had hoped this wouldn’t happen. Do you remember when we went to the tulip fields and I said I had gone last week with a friend, her mother, and her grandmother?”

I nodded.

“That was Zahida. Her mother and grandmother were so enthralled by the tulips. We had a great day together. I had hoped they would be more open-minded when she told them about her decision.”

I tried to comprehend what Noelle was saying. This young woman, of whom I was so frightened, was a new Christian. And her family had cut her off. “How terrible for her.”

“I know. She’s in good hands, though. You saw how Hannah takes in women like Zahida at the farm. It will be a good place for her, and she will be surrounded by other Christians.”

I thought of the timid brunette who had sat across from me while we ate lunch and who was so grateful for each bite she took. The women in that home were being taken care of as well as taking
care of themselves. Hannah saw to it that they were protected. They were little lost sheep, welcomed into a loving fold.

“What your sister-in-law is doing is amazing.”

“I know. That’s why I wanted you to experience it. I wanted you to walk into that home without any expectations. That’s where Zahida will be by this evening. It will be very good for her. I’m so grateful for Hannah.”

I nodded my agreement.

“I have just had an inspiration.” Noelle put on her car’s blinker. “We’ll go to Haarlem instead of Amsterdam. We’re close enough, so why not? I have the information on the Ten Boom house. It was a watch shop, correct?”

“Yes.”

“Apparently the clock shop is still there, in front of the house. I’m hoping we can take a tour and see where the hiding place was located. I printed out the information, and it is all there in my purse, if you want to pull it out.”

I reached to the backseat and removed the folded papers from Noelle’s purse.

“You were right about how the Ten Boom family took in Jews as well as those involved in the underground resistance during the occupation years. As a result of their efforts, it’s estimated that about eight hundred Jews were spared. That’s really something.” Noelle shot a glance at me. “Are you okay with doing this instead of going to Amsterdam?”

“Yes, definitely. I much prefer it when you’re in the driver’s seat.

The traffic let up, and we were in Haarlem sooner than I had expected. I read Noelle the instructions on the papers regarding the parking available in a lot by the train station. The covered parking structure reminded me of the one at the airport.

“Let’s hope no out-of-control utility trucks come careening around the corner this time.”

“That was a close one, wasn’t it?” Noelle said.

She took the papers from me and told me she didn’t know exactly where the house was located since she never had been there. At the first street corner, she spotted a sign that said “C. ten Boomhuis,” and we were off! Noelle, with her fast-paced stride, and me, puffing to keep up.

We headed for the older part of town, where the buildings became quainter and more photoworthy. I commented on their charm, and Noelle pulled out her camera.

I did the same and enjoyed the approach to the Ten Boom watch shop even more because I was capturing photos of the area and trying to imagine how this corner of Haarlem had looked during the war.

One of the tall, narrow buildings that came into view displayed a sign with a clock on it high above the door. As we walked closer, I saw that the sign read “Ten Boom Museum.”

The lower level of the building was a typical, Old-World-style, brick storefront, as I had seen in a number of the towns we had driven through. A long window framed the front of the shop where several people were standing, looking in at the display of watches in the shop.

An alleyway ran down the left side of the building. I paused to gaze at the windows on the second floor that faced the street. They were trimmed in white and stood out against the dull, buttery sandstone brick. Two of the windows were very large and narrow and were topped by a much smaller one directly above them. The housetop slanted inward the way a church spire rises to a point. But instead of a point, this structure rose in the shape of a chimney.