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Fred took a step forward as if wanting to stand between the two men, perhaps to shield Dr. Weiss from his father’s palpable greed.
“Some. Not a whole lot.”
“I don’t believe you.”
Dr. Weiss shrugged. “Can I buy some food from you? Bread, perhaps an egg for the boys.”
“An egg?” Father glared at him. “For a dentist, you are pretty dumb. Do you think that the Germans let us keep our eggs? And if we manage to set aside a few, I’m sure not going to give them to you.”
“Sell,” Dr. Weiss said and reached into his pocket. “I’m not asking for a handout.” He pulled out two golden rings. “This is for the food for today and tomorrow. I want some eggs for the children.” The man held Father’s gaze. “Please.”
Father reached for the rings and grabbed them with such greed that Fred felt the heat of embarrassment throughout his entire body.
“Okay, bread and two eggs.”
“And a bit of cheese,” Dr. Weiss added.
Father glared at him.
“Those are rubies.” The dentist pointed to Father’s clenched fist.
A curt nod sealed the agreement.
“But I want you to be gone the day after tomorrow.”
Dr. Weiss looked into the distance. The sorrow in his eyes made Fred bite his cheek. He wouldn’t show weakness in front of Father, but he would do his utmost to help this family—to help Hedvika.
“Now get out of here before anyone sees you, and we all end up on that cattle train.” Father dismissed the man. “And the only reason I do this,” he hollered after the dentist, “is because of what you did for Fred. Your people have no place here, so don’t get any ideas about telling your Jewish friends about my barn. If anyone else shows up here, I’m going to ride to town and get Fritz’s men.”
The door creaked behind Dr. Weiss.
Fred glowered at his father.
“Why—”
A slap across his face cut his question short.
“Now tell Mother to pack what I promised. But nothing more.”
Fred ran his palm over his stinging cheek. Anger boiled in his veins. He could take the old man; he was sure of it. But if he did, what would Father do? Would he really ride to town and get Fritz? Or stop bribing his son-in-law and ensure that Fred would be sent to the front lines? At times, he wondered if gunfire would be easier to handle than his hateful old man. But he would have to fight for the Nazis, and Fred had decided long ago he would not kill for them. A single bullet would be all he would need. Fred clenched his fists and then mustered the courage to look his father straight in the eyes.
“Good.”
He strode away from the man who was not to be trusted. The worry for Hedvika squeezing the very breath out of his lungs. Gleaning from what Father said to Dr. Weiss, Fred was convinced that the old man already hatched a plan. Mentioning Fritz several times this morning meant he had been thinking about how much the commander would appreciate if he supplied important information. And that was not good.
Fred stepped into the kitchen. The smell of freshly baked bread made his mouth water. Starving, he inhaled the aroma and sniffed once more. Stew. Mother was making his favorite meal. Of course, it wouldn’t be anything like she used to make before the Germans took over their country and started to issue ration books, but Mother knew how to make a meal practically out of nothing.
“It smells so good,” he said appreciatively.
“Why do you anger him so?” Mother was kneading another batch of bread dough while a pot of stew bubbled on the stove.
“Me?”
“Yes, you provoke him. That is why he hits us.”
“How?”
She covered the bowl with a cloth and set it closer to the stove to rise. “You have to ask that?”