The Dog in the Wood by Monika Schroder

Author:Monika Schroder
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Children's Books;Literature & Fiction;Historical Fiction;Holocaust;Europe;Military & Wars
Publisher: Boyds Mills Press
Published: 2017-10-26T18:07:48+00:00

21

The closer they came to Oma Clara’s house the tighter the knot grew in Fritz’s stomach. The main road separated two parallel rows of flat, plain houses with high-tiled roofs above low ceilings. In front of Oma Clara’s entrance grew a well-tended rosebush, its dark green leaves shining in the last rays of afternoon light. Lech opened the gate, and the horse pulled the cart into the courtyard. Fritz looked for Oma Clara’s geese to come hissing toward the fence. One had bitten him once. But the pen was empty. The Russians must have taken the geese.

“Hello!” Oma Clara stepped out of the back door. She was a compact woman, her cheeks ruddy from lots of work outdoors. Irmi jumped off the cart and fell into Oma Clara’s arms. “Welcome, girl!” Oma Clara held Irmi tight. Fritz stayed on the other side of the cart, avoiding the inevitable hug as long as possible.

“They took the farm,” Mama said, and Oma Clara just nodded as if she had expected that to happen. Then the two of them embraced. Mama introduced Lech. He took off his cap and shook Oma Clara’s hand. Fritz was watching her closely. It was important that she welcome Lech. Oma Clara smiled at Lech. Then Mama motioned Fritz closer, and he found himself pressed against Oma Clara’s housedress.

“How are you?” she greeted him. “Did you see the empty pen? The Russians took my geese. I thought you’d be sad to hear that.” The women went inside. Fritz wanted to inspect Oma Clara’s farm. It was so much smaller than the farm they had left in Schwartz. Her barn could use a fresh coat of paint. Fritz counted one cow and two pigs. A rooster strutted around the manure heap. There was no garden.

Lech had begun to unpack the cart. They carried blankets and clothes to his new quarters, a small room adjacent to the stable.

“This is better than Schwartz,” said Lech. “There’s a little stove, so I can make a fire in the winter, and I’ll have electric light.” Lech pointed to the light bulb hanging from the ceiling. Fritz nodded, trying to put together a list of good things about Sempow. Lech squatted in front of him and grabbed Fritz’s sleeve.

“Listen,” Lech said, focusing his light blue eyes on Fritz. “We will make this work. Here we don’t have to live with Russians. We won’t be evicted.”

“She has no garden.”

“There is a lot of work waiting for us here. I’ll need your help, young man,” Lech said.

Fritz looked down. “Yes,” he said quietly. “I just miss Oma Lou.”

“I know,” Lech pulled him closer. “But your Oma Clara isn’t such a bad woman. You know what they say: ‘soft nut in a hard shell’?”

“I’m not sure that’s the way the saying goes.” Fritz looked up.

“Yeah, yeah, excuse my German.” Lech laughed. “But you know what I mean.”

When Fritz entered the kitchen, Oma Clara thrust a handful of silverware at him. “Here, Fritz, make yourself useful and set the table.

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