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main street because it is the day the train is coming and everyone is scared and excited all at the same time because THEY’RE coming . . .
    Papa’s in the foundry back in the ceramics workshop, the special clean room that keeps out soot and dust and he’s painting something with lots of swirls and flowers and i’m not allowed there but i squirt through like a wet watermelon seed and burst in.
    what’s this, he scowls, what are you doing?
    –come on, Papa i tug his hand –come on, come on . . .
    he comes because we are all curious . . . there’s a big crowd along the tracks and Marta is there in gauzy white and broad straw hat with a red red ribbon to match her hair band and i can tell Papa doesn’t like that, but she is seventeen and going to college to be an interpreter and she is as stubborn as Papa, so stubborn Mama says they should both be irish instead of polish.
    the train is going very slowly so we can all get a very good look.
    the prisoners are staring out at us through the open boxcars and there are other men with rifles.
    the prisoners’ faces are still like wax like clay and they don’t smile and neither do we.
    but
    but they have eyes like wolves.
    golden and strange and . . .
    i look away.
    –no good will come of this. sheriff Cage stands next to Papa and he has blue blue eyes like the sky at twilight. i’d be happier the crops rot in the fields than bring them here.
    the union boys and Papa mill around but Mr. Eisenmann is happy. he’s very rich and so he didn’t have to go off to war because the plant is so important because of all the iron and his father gave him the plant to run and so for Mr. Eisenmann the prisoners are good because they can work the fields and the plant and anything else needs doing.
    the union boys don’t like it. Papa doesn’t like it. Eisenmann’s out to break us, that’s what they say.
    the mayor makes a speech. the prison commander makes a speech. it’s so hot sweat trickles down my sides and glues my shirt to my back.
    Mr. Eisenmann is all gold, the ring on his little finger, the links of his gold watch chain, the buttons of his linen suit, even his cravat and his hair. he talks the longest about how the prisoners will stay in the old dormitories on the foundry grounds and how they will be good for the town and he brings a prisoner with white teeth and blue eyes to stand next to him and they are both gold in the sun like when Mrs. Grunewald talks about the gemini twins in school and Mr. Eisenmann puts his arm around the prisoner and calls him my friend and my right arm and my brother and this is all good only i don’t think so and the union boys are against it all and my Papa most of all.
    then the prisoner talks Mr. Eisenmann’s friend talks and he has white teeth and his eyes are bluer than the sky . . . his skin is brown as a nut because of being in the sun all the time and this makes his teeth look even whiter and his words are perfect . . . his accent is less than mine and that makes me ashamed.
    the sheriff shakes his head. –my boy’s still over there. war’s over and my boy still doesn’t know when he can come home. bringing in prisoners to work when our own boys could do the work . . . this ain’t right . . . and I don’t care how many relatives folks here got back there ain’t none of these people my friend . . .
    they take pictures of Mr. Eisenmann and the sheriff and the men with rifles and the prisoner with no accent and the good teeth . . .
    but then something happens and only i see it.
    the prisoner looks at Marta and she stares back and then she smiles. and then his face changes.
    it melts like wax. his jaw gets long and his eyes are yellow and then gold and his teeth are sharp sharp sharp as the pitchfork . . .
    and his lips are black and peel back and he is a wolf . . .
    he is a wolf and only i see it and there is blood, so much blood, Papa no, no Papa, don’t . . . no not the pitchfork no . . . blood on my clothes and on my hands and