White Daisies

Chapter 16

January 27th, 1941

My knuckles rap against the rough wood of the classroom door. "Mr. Jensen?"

Mr. Jensen looks up from the pile of papers on his desk. He readjusts the reading glasses that are perched on the bridge of his nose. "Ah, Ms. Clemensen! What brings you here?"

I look down at the laces of my boots and hesitantly take a few more steps into the classroom. I instinctively shove my hands into the pockets of my blazer. "What would you say if I had some information that might be of service to you?"

The corner of Mr. Jensen's mouth quirks up. "I would say that I warned you, Ms. Clemensen, to not get involved in the politics of war. Not that I'm surprised, seeing as how you ask the right questions and seem to have a knack for finding trouble."

I flash my teeth. "Guilty as charged."

He sighs. Standing up from his chair, he walks over and sticks his head out of the doorway, turning it from side to side. He closes the door behind him and comes to sit on the desk in front of me. He crosses his arms. "What's so important that you had to come to see me during school hours?"

"They're coming after the Communist Party." I deadpan.

Mr. Jensen exhales sharply. "You're not telling me anything I don't already know, Ms. Clemensen."

"It's going to be soon. The Germans are waiting for orders right now. But they have a list. They know about the resistance. I think they have spies."

This piqued Mr. Jensen's interest. "A list? What list?"

I shuffle my feet. "A list of everybody who has registered or been a part of the Communist Party of Denmark. I also think they have a pretty good idea of who's involved with the resistance movements. They know that it has communist origins."

Mr. Jensen swears under his breath. "I should've expected something like this. The Germans invaded, but they didn't dissolve the Danish government entirely. I thought private information like that would've been safe. This makes everything a lot harder."

I nod. "You should warn everyone. Airspace is restricted, but maybe you can get out by boat."

He waves his hand. "I'm not leaving. My work isn't done here."

His face looked like it had aged five years. Mr. Jensen wasn't old, but he wasn't young, either. His blue eyes were faded, and his hairline had begun to recede. But hearing this news now, the wrinkles on his face became more pronounced. He reminded me of Atlas, his body sagging like he had just been handed the weight of the world to balance on his shoulders.

"There's no way we can notify everybody. The resistance doesn't work together. It's made up of small moving parts with no coordination. We can't possibly find out everyone who is involved." He strokes his chin. "The notice is enough, though. Thank you, Ms. Clemensen. I will be sure to try to get a warning out."

Before I can leave, Mr. Jensen stops me. "Also Ms. Clemensen," he leans over his desk and grabs a pencil, "if you find out anything else, feel free to type it up and leave it at this address." He hands me a slip of paper. 

104 Kastelsvej St, Østerbro

"I'll try to let you know if that address changes," Mr. Jensen finishes. 

I exit the classroom quietly. Outside, snow is shoveled high along the sidewalks. I wiggle my toes and praise myself for wearing thick socks today. I feel strangely at peace. Gone was the burden of information that I needed to get off my chest. I did something important. I did something Jacob said I wouldn't do. Now, I'm strolling down an unusually empty street. The sun didn't shine, but the sky was still bright beneath the clouds. The wind from the port didn't blow against my back.