for any consequences for himself. The two boys swam together at the pond, talked openly, and visited one anotherâs homes. Yet after the vandalism of his house, Karl had withdrawn even from MiloÅ¡, and this was the first opportunity the boys had had to talk since then.
âMy parents were upset about it, too,â MiloÅ¡ added. âYou must have been so angry.â
Karl nodded again. He was not much inclined to talk about the incident anymore. But Miloš was not about to give up.
âDo you know who did it?â he asked.
Karl shrugged. âCould be anybody.â He pointed at a group of nasty-looking boys standing off to one side, leaning against the school building as if they were its keepers.
MiloÅ¡ stared along with him. âWell,â he finally said, âI think it was sickening.â He turned back to Karl. âLetâs go bicycling later today. I havenât seen you in a long time.â
Karl nodded his assent and the two boys shook hands again just as the bell started ringing. Then they lined up to join the throng of young students marching up the stairs of the school and into the main auditorium.
The headmaster stood at the podium at the front of the hall eyeing the class with a severity that never seemed to leave his face. He quieted the room with one look and welcomed everyone, reminding the students that the coming year would be challenging. He then proceeded to conduct the census that always marked the beginning of the school year. On the first day of the fall semester, each student was required to stand and proclaim his religion out loud. In addition to academic subjects, one hour a week was set aside for religious studies, and this vocal declaration of religious affiliation would determine the students that would be assigned to the various classes. Karl shuddered as, one by one, the students rose and spoke aloud. The majority of students were part of the, or Czech Brothers, the national religion of Czechoslovakia at the time. Many were Protestant, and some were Catholic. A few stood and declared, â Bez vyznánà â â without affiliation. When it was his turn, Karl stumbled to his feet, lifted his chin, and proclaimed, â Hebrejský â â Hebrew â in front of the entire school body. Then he quickly sank down, hoping that the burning in his stomach and chest did not show on his face.
The religious affiliation of each student in this school was a foregone conclusion; the oral declaration merely confirmed what the headmaster and entire student body already knew. So why conduct this public spectacle? There was no question for Karl that the sole purpose of this exercise was to further humiliate and alienate him from this community. But this year, the feeling of estrangement was worse. Perhaps the attack on his home that summer had affected him more than he had been willing to admit. Maybe the growing unrest in countries around Czechoslovakia was more serious than he had realized. Or maybe his motherâs heightened anxiety and dire predictions of the future of the Jewish community in Czechoslovakia had penetrated his thinking more deeply. Whatever it was, Karl knew that when he stood to declare himself as a Jew that day on the start of a new academic year, he was making himself vulnerable in a way that he had never experienced before.
CHAPTER THREE
RakovnÃk, March 1938
IT WAS DIFICULT AT TIMES for Hana and Karl to reconcile what was happening outside Czechoslovakiaâs borders with the daily life they lived in RakovnÃk. School continued as if there were no difficulties elsewhere. They were in different grades and attended separate public high schools, both of which were known for their high academic standards and strict discipline. Hana and Karl learned Latin, French, and German, along with mathematics, history, geography, and other subjects. Their German teacher did mysteriously disappear at one point, and no one seemed to