Free Ring of Fire III by Eric Flint Page A

Jew.”
    “Shut up, Gabriel,” Joseph said, defending him. Incredible! “The kid ain’t a witch. You’re just mad he hit that ball over your head. You thought you could win by letting me have the new kid and we beat your butt. You’re just a sore loser!”
    Shabbethai turned to look at the French boy who had ruined everything with his knowledge of Greek. He depended on that translation now. If he wasn’t very much mistaken, things could go real bad at this point. Even if Gabriel were the only one who hated Jews, he probably had friends and would Joseph Drahuta defend Shabbethai Zebi, the Messiah, the son of God, when Gabriel brought friends who hated Jews, too?
    “Gabriel Vogel Kubiak! I will tell your mother you said that!” Joseph’s sister, Sibylla, shouted from her position of authority by the phone that was now lying on the small table near the door to the kitchen.
    “You know it’s true, Sibylla,” Gabriel stated. “You were German once, too.”
    “Who says I am not now?” Sibylla shouted and the argument began, in German, fast and angry.
    Shabbethai knew that arguments were rarely good things for Jews. Somehow, when there was arguing and there was a Jew, the Jew became a target. He had seen that in Smyrna. Would that happen here? He was, after all, the only Jew available and everyone knew that because of the French boy who knew Greek.
    “There will be no food until you stop saying horrible things about people! And that includes Jews who play better stick ball than you!” Sibylla yelled.
    Shabbethai needed no translation. A girl, now standing in front of the door leading to what could only be a kitchen, said two words that Shabbethai understood completely, no and food.
    “He can’t eat regular food anyway,” Gabriel declared. “All I said was that he was a Jew. I heard you gotta be careful with Jews and food. They poison it.”
    “If you think you’re going to be poisoned you can leave,” Joseph shouted. Shabbethai noted that Joseph’s younger brother, Ulrich, shouted encouragement to his brother. “You’re just mad that Shabbethai helped us win! You’re just a sore loser!”
    “All I am saying is that he is Jewish and you should be careful around Jews. What do they plan in their secret meetings, in their communities set apart from good Christians?” Gabriel frowned.
    “I see, Gabriel Vogel. Take your sister and go home to the Vogels, your first mama and papa, and eat there,” Sibylla stated. Shabbethai wasn’t sure why this seemed to strike Gabriel dumb. The older boy looked unable to speak. Dorothea looked ready to cry.
    “Mama, our new mama, said we gotta stay here.” Dorothea looked very upset. “Mama, the mama who took us in when we would have starved, said she’d come and pick us up after work. We gotta stay at Auntie Drahuta’s house. And I don’t care if he’s a Jew. I want dinner. Our first Mama and Papa are dead and we can not go to them for dinner. That was mean, Sibylla. Your parents are dead, too. You go to them!”
    Gabriel seemed unable to answer back. Shabbethai could see that there were words that wanted to come out but, for some reason, they did not.
    “So, was it Catholics that killed your Protestant parents or Protestants that killed your Catholic parents? Or did anyone care to figure it out before they killed them? You of all people should know how foolish your words are, Gabriel. So what if he’s a Jew? There is religious freedom in Grantville. Go. Leave Grantville with your ‘he’s a Jew’ thoughts. There are people out there waiting for you, Gabriel Vogel. Just make sure you tell the right people the right religion or you may learn what it feels like to be a Jew. I have seen how Jews are treated and I will have nothing to do with that. Nothing!”
    Blaise’s translation into Greek extended into the silence after Sibylla stopped talking.
    Gabriel looked at Shabbethai but without anger. Was there, perhaps, a touch of shame, Shabbethai asked