Free Another Me by Eva Wiseman

as a bull and evil as well. Father is no longer young. If he confronts Kaspar, he’ll get hurt. Promise me that you won’t tell him!”
    Vera thought for a long moment. Finally she said, “It’s not right for Kaspar to go unpunished, but I don’t want your papa hurt. I won’t say a word.”
    She went to the kitchen and began to skin the hare, but I noticed that she wasn’t singing while she worked, as was her habit.
    As the sun dipped below the horizon, Heinrich the butcher appeared at our shop’s window. Fortunately, I was by myself, without customers or my father in sight.
    Heinrich plunked down the two baskets of meat Vera and I had left behind.
    “I’ve brought your meat,” he said. “Don’t come to Butchers’ Lane for the next few weeks. I’ll bring your meat to your house. You don’t want to run into Kaspar by chance.”
    He pushed my thanks aside. As he was leaving, he turned back and offered an encouraging smile.
    “Several of the butchers in our guild have been cheated by Kaspar,” he said. “None of them had the courage to stand up to him, but you and your servant did.” He chuckled. “An old woman and a young girl! What’s the world coming to?”

    Vera made a fragrant stew of the hare.
    “Something smells wonderful,” Papa said, sniffing appreciatively as he settled down at the supper table. He sopped up the stew with a thick slab of dark bread.
    Vera smiled modestly. “Heinrich’s meat is always fresh.”
    Natan entered the room and walked straight to the wooden bowl we always kept filled with water for cleaning. He dipped his hands in and seemed to be splashing around in it before he sat down beside me.
    “What’s with all your hand-washing, Hans? You seem to be doing it all the time lately,” Papa asked. “Too much washing will unbalance the humors in your body and you will become sick.”
    Natan smiled but didn’t answer him. “What’s for dinner?” he asked. “I’m famished!”
    “Can’t you smell it?” Papa said. “Vera cooked us hare.”
    A look of distaste flitted across Natan’s features.
    “I don’t eat hare!”
    “What are you talking about, Hans?” Vera asked. “I remember you telling me that it’s your favorite dish.”
    Natan clutched his stomach. He swallowed hard. “I just mean I can’t eat it tonight. My stomach is upset. I’ll stick to the bread.”
    “Are you sure?” Papa said. “Vera’s hare is the best!”
    “I’m sure,” Natan mumbled.
    He remained quiet for the rest of the meal.
    After supper, when everybody else had left the table, I asked if anything was bothering him.
    He rubbed his stomach. “I’m hungry.”
    “You should have eaten some of the hare.”
    He smiled ruefully. “I couldn’t. It’s one of the animals we’re not allowed to eat.”
    “Why?”
    “The Torah tells us that we may only eat animals that have cloven hoofs and chew their cud, and the hare is not one of those.”
    “And the hand-washing?” I asked. “Is that a part of your religion as well?”
    He nodded. “I didn’t think you’d noticed.”
    “It would be difficult not to. But you should be careful, for my papa is right—too much washing will unbalance the humors in your body. I don’t want you in your sickbed.”
    “I’m glad that you care enough to worry about me.” He grinned. “I bet you didn’t realize that I also say silent prayers before I eat your bread or drink your father’s ale.”
    “I didn’t, but I’ll watch you more closely in the future.”
    “That’s fine with me—as long as your father doesn’t!”

CHAPTER 12
    T he pails of water dangling from our hands weighed us down as we made our way back to Papa’s shop. Ever since the well in the town square was poisoned, we’d had to fetch our water from the River Ill. I was pleased that Natan had fallen into the habit of accompanying me every day. These were the only times we were alone to discuss our problems. Natan was worried that we still hadn’t heard from the