Free Restitution by Kathy Kacer

table?” she asked.
    Karl shrugged. “I like having company in the house. It’s less boring that way.” Besides, he was truly interested in this man – Alois Jirák. His father clearly trusted him, so that was enough for Karl. “Do you know who his grandson is?”
    Hana nodded. “Jan Pekárek. He’s one of those. * He lives in KruÅ¡ovice, I think, and he’s bussed in every day. I don’t have too much to do with him, but he’s a good student.”
    The events of that evening returned to Karl’s mind now as he sat listening to his mother talk. Shortly after that dinner with Alois Jirák, his father had departed for his business trip. Karl stared at his mother and she returned his look evenly.
    â€œIt’s my decision to leave, not your father’s,” she said, reading her son’s mind. “I know what I’m doing. I know what’s best.”
    Karl looked away. He knew that if his father were here they would not be leaving so quickly. But in Father’s absence, Mother was taking charge.
    â€œWhere are we going to live?” Karl asked. It was one thing to run from their home, but where would the family run to?
    â€œWe’ll go to the flat that your father rented in Prague, the one owned by the Zelenkas. At least we have a place to go to.”
    â€œBut, Mother,” continued Karl, “do you think it’s wise for us to go to Prague? Isn’t that where all the trouble is going to be?” Karl couldn’t help but recall the radio report of the annexation of Austria, when hundreds of thousands had come out to support Hitler. The Jews in Vienna had been targeted almost immediately.
    â€œI have to believe that we’ll be safer in the big city,” she explained. “Few people know us there, and fewer still know that we are Jews. We will lose ourselves in the midst of that large population.” Clearly, Marie believed that neither the Catholic marriage certificate that she and her husband had in their possession nor their false baptismal documents would help conceal who they were in Rakovník. “It won’t be for long,” she added. “This is only the first step, but it’s the best option we have for the time being.”
    For the first time, Hana spoke. Her voice was small and uncertain. “But, Mother, what about the house? All of our things?”
    Karl glanced around the room at the furnishings, the carpets, the grand piano, and the books on the shelves. The four paintings that Mr. Schmahl had given the family hung on the walls of the salon. What about the paintings? wondered Karl. His mother had said that they were the most valuable works of art that they owned.
    Mother was visibly shaken. “We can’t worry about any of that right now,” she stammered. “We’ll worry about that later. Go! Get ready. There isn’t much time.”
    Mother left the room with Leila following close behind. Leila had not spoken a word during Marie’s announcement, though her face spoke volumes, lined, broken, and etched in grief. With the fall of Sudetenland, she had already lost her country once. Now it appeared that she was losing her home for a second time. At least she was going with the family to Prague. Their fate would be her fate. She would not be left behind.
    Karl turned to Hana who had sat motionless during the entire discussion with their mother. “What do you think?” he now asked as Hana stood to go to her room.
    She shrugged. “It will be an adventure,” she said. “That’s the way I’m going to think about this. Besides, we’ve done nothing wrong. So what could anyone do to us?”
    Karl sighed. At thirteen, perhaps Hana was still too young to appreciate the enormity of what was happening to their country and what was about to happen to their family. He envied her this detached, seemingly unconcerned attitude. As for Karl, he was