Author/Uploaded by Tara Ison
Contents Cover Title Page Copyright Contents My Life My Friends My Faith My Family My Home Acknowledgments Guide Cover Title Page Copyright Contents My Life Acknowledgments Start to Contents Pagebreaks of the Print Version Cover Page 3...
Contents Cover Title Page Copyright Contents My Life My Friends My Faith My Family My Home Acknowledgments Guide Cover Title Page Copyright Contents My Life Acknowledgments Start to Contents Pagebreaks of the Print Version Cover Page 3 4 5 7 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53 54 55 56 57 58 59 60 61 62 63 64 65 66 67 68 69 70 71 72 73 74 75 76 77 78 79 80 81 82 83 84 85 86 87 88 89 90 91 92 93 94 95 96 97 98 99 100 101 102 103 104 105 106 107 108 109 110 111 112 113 114 115 116 117 118 119 120 121 122 123 124 125 126 127 128 129 130 131 132 133 134 135 136 137 138 139 140 141 142 143 144 145 146 147 148 149 150 151 152 153 154 155 156 157 158 159 160 161 162 163 164 165 166 167 168 169 170 171 172 173 174 175 176 177 178 179 180 181 182 183 184 185 186 187 188 189 190 191 192 193 194 195 196 197 198 199 200 201 202 203 204 205 206 207 208 209 210 211 212 213 214 215 216 217 218 219 220 221 222 223 224 225 226 227 228 229 230 231 232 233 234 235 236 237 238 239 240 241 242 243 244 245 246 247 248 249 250 251 252 253 254 255 256 257 258 259 260 261 262 263 264 265 266 267 268 269 270 271 272 273 274 275 276 277 278 279 280 281 282 283 284 285 286 287 288 289 290 291 292 293 294 295 At the Hour Between Dog and Wolf A NOVEL Tara Ison NEW YORK, NY Copyright © 2023 by Tara Ison. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner without written permission of the publisher. Please direct inquiries to: Ig Publishing Box 2547 New York, NY 10163 www.igpub.com ISBN: 978-1632461-46-9 “entre chien et loup” —French expression: “between dog and wolf,” i.e, twilight or dusk “ To do evil, a human being must first of all believe that what he’s doing is good.” —Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn My Life My Friends My Faith My Family My Home MY LIFE by Marie-Jeanne Chantier 10 March, 1941 La Perrine, France My name is Marie-Jeanne Chantier, and I am twelve years old. My parents named me for the Blessed Virgin, and also for Saint Jeanne d’Arc, the young girl who had short hair and saved France from hostile foreign invaders a long time ago. I pray one day I will be that heroic and brave. Maman and Papa died last year in a tragic car accident outside Paris, bringing toys to poor orphans at the convent. Now I live here in the country in La Perrine, with tante Berthe, tonton Claude, and cousin Luc, who were very kind to take me in with good Christian charity and give me such a wonderful home. Every morning I love to milk the pretty red cow. I like the warm hay smell of the barn and the cool clay of the root cellar when I help tante Berthe sort potatoes and carrots. We send most of what we grow to the brave German soldiers, of course, who are fighting to save us from the godless Communists. But the happiest part of the week is Sundays when it’s holy and I go to church. I always pray first for our dear leader, Marshal Petain, who is saving France for us, and helping us return to honor and good moral order. Then I pray for my dear Maman and Papa, then for the poor children everywhere who aren’t so fortunate as me to have warm clothes or enough to eat. I miss my parents, but I’m grateful to our Heavenly Father for all the blessings in my new life. I know Maman and Papa are watching over me with Jesus, the Blessed Virgin, and Saint Jeanne. And one day we will all be together again, in Heaven. What a joke. It’s all lies, every word of it. That made-up girl. A stupid assignment I had to write for school here. I added the “poor orphans” part at the last moment, and my teacher just loved that, he doesn’t see it’s all a made-up story. But that’s good, it means I’m doing everything right. Keeping everyone safe. And he’s so easy to lie to. Everyone in this place is. It’s funny, really. Claire would think it’s funny. Claire? Are you asleep? Are you brushing your hair so it crackles? Laying out your pink skirt for school tomorrow? Maybe you’re sitting on the red velvet sofa with your maman and papa, all of you together, listening to music on the radio? I hope so. Are you worrying where I am? How I am? Maybe if I think to you hard enough, you’ll hear me. Or maybe you’ll feel it, inside, and think back about me, I’ll feel that, too, and it won’t be so empty cold dark all the time. I miss you so much, Claire. I have no one to talk to, only people I can lie to, and that’s not the same. I wish I could write you a real letter, not just think the true things to you, but that man Claude says it’s too dangerous, the government opens and reads everyone’s letters now, but that’s good, it’s for our