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Wish Me Joy West Virginia

By Valerie Banfield

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Prologue (Excerpt):
August 1943
Brussels, Belgium

Andre wrapped his clammy hand around the Walther PPK grip, pressed the weapon deep into the hay bale, and waited for Maggy’s permission. As soon as she stepped outside and closed the stable door, he pulled the trigger, keeping his thumb clear of the hammer as it engaged the firing pin and discharged the round. The hay muffled the sound, and the scent of damp feed absorbed the gunpowder’s distinct odor, but Andre didn’t dare exhale until his recognized that the bullet had swept through the barrel without vibrating against the metal. He still had all of his fingers, and he had a match.
Maggy crept back inside but didn’t venture toward the empty horse stall until he gave the signal. While Andre concealed the firearm beneath his shirt, she retrieved the small canvas bag filled with bullets and slipped it into the side pocket of her skirt.
“Mark those as 7.65 millimeters,” Andre told her as they walked the short distance to their temporary residence, the home the mayor used to occupy. The mild breeze that drifted across the grounds did little to alleviate Andre’s heightened wariness. Brussels was a sea of uniforms and the mayor’s house was located in the center of it. Some would consider the frequent events in the stable foolhardy. Andre preferred the terms brazen and obligatory to describe their participation in the chaos. Each time they paired a smuggled gun with the proper caliber ammunition, they forced the German itinerary back a step, be it miniscule in nature or with effects that might ripple all the way to the Führer.
When it was time to leave, Maggy ran her fingers through Andre’s longish, dark hair. She smoothed his shirt collar before planting a short, but tender kiss to his lips. “Do you have everything?” she asked before they began their walk to the opera house.
Andre lifted one hand, which held a pair of ballet slippers. “Always.”
German flags hung limply from windows and street lamps, the black swastika, a symbol of evil and darkness, twisting and swirling into white, intent on ravishing innocence and degrading truth. The air was as reluctant to furl the banners as the townspeople were indignant at having to display them.
They rounded a corner where two German soldiers were examining a young woman’s paperwork. While one continued to question her, the other approached Andre and Maggy.

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