MAX AWOKE BEFORE Gabi and Mama. For a moment, he lay quietly in the cold stillness of the barn, watching his frozen breath curl up and dissolve into the uneven bales of hay above him. He put on his glasses to look around. From the color of the light, filtering through the barn wall, Max guessed that it was nearing the end of the day. There was some sunlight left, but it was quickly fading.
Max took out the photograph of his family from deep inside his jacket, smoothing out its crinkled edges and staring at the smiling faces of his parents and sister. If he had been home right now, his father would be returning from work in his bookstore and his mother would be making supper. He and his sister would start their homework and probably begin their squabbling, as brother and sister often did. Max slid the picture back inside his jacket and shut his eyes tight, trying to block the memories of his family. It hurt too much to think of them. The pain felt like it was making a hole in his heart. He thought about the soldiers that he and Gabi had met on the short walk to the Kos’s house. Soldiers like that had arrested his parents. Gabi thought he had been so bold by speaking up to the soldiers. But really, he was more angry than brave.
Mama began to stir next to Max and opened her eyes, looking around uncertainly before remembering where she was. She smiled at Max and then looked over at Gabi, still asleep and buried in the hay.
“Shhh,” she whispered. “We’ll let her sleep. Come, Max. I think it’s dark enough now for us to go inside the house.”
Max moved the bale of hay aside to expose the tunnel, letting his aunt go first before he moved outside the hiding place and into the barn. The two of them descended the ladder from the hayloft to the barn, walked past the animals, and cautiously pushed the curtain aside, as they walked into the house. Max welcomed the sudden blast of warm air that wafted down the hallway. It became much warmer as Mama and Max made their way into the kitchen.
Mr. Kos was the first to greet them. “I was just coming to get you,” he said, cordially.
“Next time, you must wait for my husband,” said Mrs. Kos, fidgeting with her apron and rushing to draw the curtains across the kitchen windows. “You can’t leave the barn on your own, you know.”
“I’m sorry, Maria,” said Mama. “You’re right. Next time we will wait.”
Mrs. Kos is mean, thought Max. She reminded him of some of their neighbors at home, the ones who didn’t like the Jews. Mrs. Kos did not seem to like them being here, regardless of her husband’s excuses for her.
“She’s still sleeping,” answered Max. He was curious about Eva. She looked like a tomboy and he liked that about her. He saw a ball in the corner and realized she played soccer, his favorite sport. She could probably show him things on the farm that would be fun — that is, if he were ever allowed to do fun things again.
“I’m going to get Gabi,” said Eva, moving toward the hallway.
“If she’s still sleeping, don’t wake her, Evichka,” said Mr. Kos. Mama nodded in agreement as Eva left the room. “And you, Max,” continued Mr. Kos, “would you like to come outside and gather some wood with me? We need more wood to keep the stove going.”
“No, Stephan,” said Mrs. Kos, anxiously, as her eyes darted around the room. “I don’t think the boy should leave the house.”
“Are you sure it’s safe, Stephan?” asked Mama.
Mr. Kos glanced through the curtain of the kitchen window. “It’s quite dark now. That’s the only safe time to be outside. The men are back home from the fields and the women are all indoors, cooking. We’ll stay in the yard close to the house and we won’t be too long. It will be fine, Maria. Stop worrying.”
Reluctantly, Mrs. Kos wrapped a knit scarf around Max’s head and handed him a pair of mittens. Then, with a wave of her hand, she pushed him out the door with her husband.
Outside, the cold air caught Max’s breath. He paused for one moment, and then, without a second thought, he bounded into the air, feeling the snowflakes melt across his nose and cheeks. Max darted across the farmyard and kicked the snow up over his head, delighted as it cascaded down over him. The winter air was fresh and crisp. Max closed his eyes and breathed in deeply. It felt so good to be outdoors.
Mr. Kos waited a minute, watching as the young boy frolicked in the fresh air, enjoying Max’s newfound energy. Then he called out to Max and together they crossed the yard toward the back of the farmhouse. Piles of split wood were neatly stacked against the back wall — a mountain of wood, enough to last until the end of the winter. Mr. Kos walked over to the woodpile and began handing logs to Max.
“We’ll have that fire in the stove blazing in no time,” said Mr. Kos.
Max nodded, struggling under the weight of the wood. Max liked Mr. Kos. He was kind and friendly. “I can help with chores around the farm,” said Max. “I can take the cows out, chop wood, or even plow the field. I’m pretty strong, you know.”
Mr. Kos nodded. “I can see that you are. There’s nothing I’d like more than to have you help me, but I’m afraid that won’t be possible.” Seeing the dejection in Max’s eyes, Mr. Kos added quickly, “You have an important job here, Max. You must stay with your aunt and with Gabi. You have to help them.”
Max lowered his head. Maybe if he had stayed with his parents and sister, he might have protected them. But he knew this was unlikely.
“We’ll do everything we can to keep you safe, Max,” said Mr. Kos as if reading Max’s mind.
Max blinked and looked up at Mr. Kos. In the last few days, Max had met people who wanted to help him: Joseph who brought them up to the village, Father Lensky who brought them to this farmhouse, and now Mr. Kos who was willing to hide them. This kind of generosity was so rare. Max looked up at Mr. Kos. “Most of the people back in my town hated Jews. And even if they didn’t hate us, they wouldn’t want to help us. It’s too dangerous.”
Mr. Kos looked at Max a long time before replying. “I remember a time when my family was in trouble,” he said. “Our harvest had been so poor that season and I didn’t think I would have enough money to feed my wife and Evichka. I was working for Mr. Klein, Gabi’s father, living on his farm during the week and then returning here to my family on weekends. I went to him and told him my situation. He said to me, ’Stephan, I will give you the money you need.’ He was willing to help me. I’ll never forget that. We had to stop working for Mr. Klein’s farm when Christians were no longer allowed to work for Jews. But I never forgot that man’s generosity. Yes, it is dangerous for us to hide you here. But we’ll take the risk.”
It sounded so simple when Mr. Kos spoke, thought Max. If someone like Mr. Kos had been there to help his parents, maybe he would still be with them.
“Come, Max. Your aunt will start to worry about us if we stay out here any longer. Not to mention what my wife will think.”