Chapter 7

“Anyu?” asked Paul.

“Don’t answer it.”

The pounding grew louder. A voice barked, “Open up!”

Anyu wiped her hands on her apron. She walked into the living room, grasped the doorknob, and opened the door. Two soldiers pushed past her, almost knocking her down. Aunt Bella ran in, followed by Kati and Magdi.

“You, Jews! Outside! Now!”

Aunt Bella started to protest and the gendarme aimed his gun at her.

“Let’s do what he says,” Kati whispered. She took Magdi’s hand. “Come outside.”

Oscar took Paul’s hand and walked out of the house with Anyu. The noon sun blinded him. He shielded his eyes with his hand as he took in the scene. Terrified people were spilling out of every doorway. Children clung to mothers as guards barked orders; old people stumbled as they were pushed into a line. The gendarmes had been joined by several German soldiers. Fear hit Oscar. Why are they treating us this way? He tightened his grip on Paul’s hand, but Paul broke away.

“Avram!” Paul waved at a friend on the other side of the road. He started to cross over, but a German soldier with a giant dog blocked his way. The dog strained against its leash and thrust its face forward, level with Paul’s. Drool dripped from its fangs as it growled; its eyes were a wicked yellow.

Paul shrank back toward Oscar, and the dog lunged. For a moment, he thought the animal would rip him apart. Then the soldier yanked the leash and moved down the line. Paul turned and buried his face in Oscar’s shirt.

Oscar watched the soldier and fought back a wave of terror. He looked down at the yellow star on his shirt and then up at the guards herding them into a line.

They shouted orders for everyone to move forward. People shuffled along the dusty street, eyes cast down. As they were marched into the town square, Oscar remembered trips here, every Saturday after lunch. This was where we met our friends. In the summer, we bought fresh fruit and vegetables from the farmers. And ice cream. The thought made his mouth water.

“Look at them, watching us.” Aunt Bella pointed to the townspeople gathered at the storefronts.

Oscar followed her gaze. Zoltan, the shoemaker, stood with his hands folded over his leather apron. Their eyes met and Zoltan looked away. Oscar recognized Tibor, a boy he had known all his life. A boy standing next to him shouted out, “Dirty Jews!”

Oscar expected Tibor to say something. They were good friends. Apu used to tutor him in math, and Anyu even taught him to play chess. We used to play together, after school.

“Dirty Jews!” The boy next to Tibor shouted again. This time Tibor echoed him.

Oscar turned away.

The gendarmes made them stand in the square for hours. The day was hot; the sun beat down on their heads. As each hour passed, the younger children became more and more restless, but every time they started to move, a gendarme—or worse, a German soldier with a snarling dog—ordered them to be still. Paul shivered whenever he saw a dog. His legs ached from standing, and his mouth and throat were dry. “Anyu, I’m so thirsty.”

“Shh, Paul. We’ll have water soon.”

“When?”

“I don’t know.” She looked at the sky. The sun was getting low in the west. Soon it would be dark. At least it wouldn’t be so hot. She wiped her forehead with her arm.

“No food, no water,” Aunt Bella grumbled. “Not even for the children.”

“What do they want from us?” asked Anyu.

The crowd of onlookers thickened. It seemed as if the whole town had come out to watch them. Finally, six canvas-topped trucks pulled into the square, and the gendarmes ordered them to climb in.

“Please, where are you taking us?” an elderly man asked one of the guards.

“None of your business,” he snapped.

“My father is old and sick,” begged the man’s daughter. “I must go home for his medicine. I’ll come right back.”

“You’ll go where you’re told.” The guard raised his gun.

The woman moved back into line, supporting her father as he stumbled.

Oscar helped his mother and brother climb over the tailgate into the truck. Once inside, they were pushed to the front as more and more people piled in, until it became so crowded there was no room to sit. The gendarmes shut the door, and Oscar braced his legs as the truck lurched forward.

Paul was crushed in a sea of legs. There wasn’t room to sit, so he leaned against his mother’s legs as the truck bounced and swayed over dirt roads. He didn’t understand what was happening. Where were they taking them?

He looked up at his mother. She was staring straight ahead, one hand on his head, the other around Oscar’s shoulders. Kati was clutching Aunt Bella’s hand; Magdi the other. No one in the truck spoke. It was if their voices had been sucked out of them.

He closed his eyes. Maybe this was a bad dream, and he would wake up and they would all be safe at home.