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Fred stared at him. Wasn’t he here because the mill was essential to ensure an uninterrupted food supply for the Reich?
“Father?”
“I even had to give him Marta.”
Fred pressed his lips into a thin line at the mention of his sister. Had he not needed his help right now, he would have punched him. Fred knew that Marta’s forced marriage had nothing to do with him and everything to do with Father wanting German citizenship and the privileges that came with that.
“So, how much is your friend going to pay me?” Father scoffed. “You know there is a reward for bringing them in.”
“You can’t do that.” Fred’s temple throbbed.
“This is my house, and you would do well to remember it.”
Clammy perspiration covered Fred’s entire body. Would Father tell Fritz? If he did, Fred would never see Hedvika again.
“Yes,” he said through his teeth. “It is your house. That is why I am begging you to let them stay for a couple of nights.”
The old kitchen chair scraped against the floor. “Get me some breakfast,” Father ordered as he dropped his weight into it.
Mother rushed to the stove and ladled some hickory coffee into a blue mug. She added a touch of sugar, then picked up a hunk of dark bread and hurried toward the table.
“So, we have three adults and two kids,” Father said, dipping the crust into his coffee. “I wonder how much that would fetch.”
Fred pulled a chair and sat next to him, his hands trembling. His father couldn’t be serious.
“How much do you want,” he whispered in disgust. “I will tell Dr. Weiss.”
“That depends.”
“On what?”
“You are really dumb, aren’t you? How much do they have? The Jews are no good to us at the mill. They have not done one day of honest work in their entire lives.” He sipped the dark brew. “And my teeth?” He opened wide, his mouth full of mushy bread, “they are all gone, so I have no use for a dentist.” Father laughed, spraying bits of soggy bread all over the table.
“Just tell me what you want.” Fred’s stomach clenched.
Father glared at him for a beat. “Who is helping them?”
“I don’t know.”
“Find out.”
“Why?”
“Information is power, boy.”
Fred shook his head. Had he expected anything else from this harsh man?
“Where are they planning to go?”
“I think Dr. Weiss said Poland.”
Father cackled. “And I thought the man was educated.”
Fred frowned.
“There are almost no Jews left in Poland. They all took the train East.” He slapped the table and laughed as if this was the best joke he had ever heard.
Fred gripped the edge.