In the morning Emil and Karl found a note from Aunt Matilda:
“Don’t worry, boys, I’ll be back in a few days. Hans will take good care of you.”
Karl felt much better, though he was upset that Aunt Matilda had left the house. He thought about how many times she would get up in the middle of the night and cover him, and how many times she gave him a spoonful of medicine. Now he wanted to show her his thanks, but she was gone.
Karl’s heart felt heavy. He fought against the feeling that perhaps Matilda might never come back again—like his mother, like all of the others who had been disappearing. He wanted to tell this to Emil but he held back, because Emil looked so worried. Karl knew that Emil missed Aunt Matilda terribly, too.
Karl also felt very grateful to Hans, who had stayed by his bed night after night, but the boy didn’t know how to express his thanks. Now he found himself avoiding Hans. Karl couldn’t look him straight in the eye—not after he’d seen Hans reading and heard how softly he had spoken to Matilda.
In fact, it seemed to Karl that Hans was avoiding him as well. He set the table, served breakfast, and let out one of his laughs now and then, even shouted “Heil” a few times, but Hans behaved differently from how he had in the park or on that first day when Karl and Emil came to the house.
Karl wanted to tell Emil everything that he’d seen the night before, but he waited. He didn’t feel well enough to do that yet.
After lunch Karl sat in the warmth of the sun while Hans played ball with Emil. The ball flew back and forth, and Hans did some tricks. As the ball flew toward him, Hans did a somersault and still managed to catch it.
Karl wanted to join in their game, but Hans stopped him.
“Not healthy yet. Not healthy yet. Tomorrow!”
Hans stroked Karl’s head and let out one of his sharp laughs.
Then Karl asked Hans if he would let him play ball for just fifteen minutes. Hans looked at him sternly and then broke out laughing.
“No. Aunt Matilda’ll be mad.”
“Where did Aunt Matilda go?” asked Emil.
“Back soon, back soon,” Hans replied and did a somersault.
Emil had been playing for such a long time that he was drenched with sweat, and he decided it was time to stop.
All the while, Karl sat on the threshold, enjoying the sun. When Emil stopped playing, Karl asked Hans if he and Emil could take a short walk, just as far as the train tracks. The boys both promised that they would sit on the little hill near the tracks, and then, after watching a few trains pass by, they would come straight back.
“I’ll shout ‘Come back,’” Hans warned them, pointing his finger at Karl. “You’re still weak.”
Emil and Karl were lucky. As soon as they sat down on the little hill, a long train chugged by, and they counted the cars out loud.
“Thirty-two,” the two boys shouted together, happy that they had both counted the same number.
Suddenly, Emil let out a sigh.
“What’s the matter?” asked Karl.
“When I remember everything, I can’t help it,” Emil answered. “At night, when I think about my mother and father, I feel like crying. When you were sick I cried a lot, too.”
“I was looking all around me then. I couldn’t remember who you were or what your name was, but I knew that I missed you.”
“We ought to find out what happened to our mothers.”
“How can we do that?” Karl turned his large blue eyes toward Emil.
“I don’t know, but we have to find out. We should ask Aunt Matilda. She knows everything.”
“It might make Aunt Matilda very upset,” Karl said. “She’s been so good to us.”
“But now she’s gone,” Emil said, trying not to sound upset.
“You know, Emil, I have something to tell you,” Karl said. “I’ll tell it to you, if you promise me that you won’t get scared.”
“Is it something very scary?” asked Emil.
“Very,” said Karl. “I won’t tell you now. I’ll tell you when Aunt Matilda comes back.”
“But I want to know what it is,” Emil said. “Tell me a little bit at a time, not all at once.”
Karl began to explain how he’d seen Hans reading books and even writing, and how Hans had spoken to Aunt Matilda in a soft voice, and that he had lots and lots of work to do.
“And you should have seen how he looked—completely different from before. His beard was different, his hair was combed, and his face looked so nice.”
“And he didn’t shout Heil?” Emil asked, amazed.
“Not once.”
“That really is scary,” said Emil. “I don’t like it at all. Are you sure you weren’t dreaming?”
“I’m a thousand times sure. After that, it took me a long time to fall asleep.”
“And he didn’t laugh and shout ‘This is good?’” Emil wanted to know.
“No, not at all. He held his book up to the lamp, he read and wrote things down.”
The signalman saw the boys. He waved to them from far away, but they didn’t respond.
“I don’t like him. Did you hear the story that he told us?” Emil asked.
“Look, he’s wearing the yellow shoes he took from the shopkeeper,” Karl said quietly.
Arm in arm, the boys started walking slowly back.
“You know what?” said Emil. “Tonight I’ll stay up and watch what Hans does at night.”
“You still don’t believe me?” Karl asked, angrily.
“Oh, I believe you all right, but I want to see it with my own eyes.”
“You’d be better off going to sleep,” Karl suggested, “because you’ll get scared.”
“I’m scared at night anyway. I think about my mother. I can remember how she looked when they took her out of the house. You know what? Tonight, I’ll plan to wake up in the middle of the night. But if I get really scared I’ll wake you up.”
“Yes,” Karl agreed. “Tonight we’ll sleep in the same bed. If you want to wake me up, just pull on my hair gently.”
“OK!” said Emil.
“OK. Only don’t pull too hard—just a gentle tug, and I’ll open my eyes right away.”