;)
Excerpt 3 (page 247)
A whole week went by before I had a chance to seek out the old German couple, only to find no sign of life. I cautiously poked my head around the corner of the building and promptly bumped into a pretty, youngish woman. Surprised, she jumped and said in Polish, “What are you doing here? What’s your name?”
“I come from over there,” I said, pointing towards the farm. “I’m looking for the German people.”
“There are no Germans here.”
“Where did they go?”
“I don’t know. There was no one here when we arrived.”
I faced her, stunned. I had heard these same words so many times before and now took them in with the same helpless feeling. Big fat tears escaped first from one eye than the other. The woman looked puzzled and asked, “You’re German, aren’t you? Where is the rest of your family? What are you doing here anyway?”
“They’re all dead,” I said with emphasis on the word dead, hoping for compassion. She took me into the house and gave me a cup of warm milk along with a slice of dark bread. Young children appeared out of the corners of the room and watched while I ate.
“Can you read?” the woman asked.
“Yes.”
“I’ve got something for you,” she said and disappeared into the other room. She returned with a thin, yellowed book in one hand, wiping off the dust with the other. “I think you might be the right age for this. It’s in German,” she said, handing me the tattered volume. “It’s yours. Take it home and read it! I think you’ll like the stories.”
My plans to run away had come to nothing. However, I now held a German book in my hands. I slipped it under my sweater to hide it from the Ilowskis. Clutching it protectively against my chest, I ran straight for the barn and hid it. No one would deprive me of this precious treasure. I waited impatiently for Sunday, my first opportunity to get back to the book. Would I still remember how to read after two years without school? I could think of nothing but the book and the mysteries it would reveal.