The Children’s Train

At Hans’s house, Oma Greta turned the radio off. “I’ve heard enough of that lunatic. Hitler and his henchmen are evil in the flesh!”

“Shhh, Oma Greta, they’ll arrest you for such words,” Anna said.

“So, what does it matter? You can’t turn around without getting arrested these days. They’ve already sent all the Polish Jews back to Poland, but somehow they missed me. But it won’t be long before they find me, too.”

“We will have to wait him out.” Vincent sighed. “There are good people in this world who will stop him.”

“Why can’t we leave?” Hans asked. “Hitler wants us to leave, doesn’t he?”

Vincent put down the paper and looked at Hans. “Yes, Hitler wants us to leave, but it’s not that easy. Arnold Beckman has relatives in the United States, and even he can’t get out.”

“Why?” Hans asked.

“Papers, the documents. The other country has to want you, and they don’t. Many are afraid we will take the jobs they need. But you need to get a quota number, someone to sponsor you, and permission and the documents to leave all at the same time before one of them runs out. It’s almost impossible,” Vincent explained.

Eddie moved the marbles back and forth between his hands, making a loud clacking sound. “Why does everyone do what Hitler says?”

Vincent put the paper down and got up. He patted Eddie. “They’re afraid. We’re all afraid,” he said. “Times are changing.” He paced nervously and then turned quickly to Anna. “I need to check on the factory.”

“Please be careful,” Anna said.

“Don’t worry, I’ll hurry back. I want some of Oma’s delicious cobbler.” Vincent smiled, but it was forced, and everyone could feel the air was thick with untethered fear.

“Hitler and his friends are bad, bad men,” Eddie said. All his colorful marbles fell through his hands to the floor.