Child of the Light by Janet Berliner, George Guthridge Page B

the man was; Rathenau had been seated at the party, and his stature and bearing had lent him an illusion of height.
    "Sir?" Sol frowned, his face a study in puzzlement.
    The statesman released him and laughed out loud. "Just teasing, young man. You did a fine job, under trying conditions. It is not easy to follow an act like my Miriam's."
    He glanced curiously toward the curtain.
    "Ah, young Weisser!" Rathenau looked directly at Erich and chuckled. "Took a fancy to my young lady, did you not?"
    Erich had been holding the edge of the curtain and peeking around it. Feeling as if he had been reprimanded for staying suspiciously long in the bathroom, he jerked his head back behind the curtain.   He would not go out there now, he decided, even if they tried to drag him out.
    Then he heard Rathenau say, "I have taken a liking to your Solomon, as has my niece," and he was filled with such hurt that he stepped back against the wall as though someone had pushed him. His face burned and his heart thudded ferociously.
    "With your permission, Herr Freund, I would like your son to join me for lunch today at the Adlon." The Foreign Minister's voice dropped toward the end of the sentence. "I have no son of my own, and probably never will have. I was impressed by his effort last night and I wish to reward him--"
    Pretend Sol's a dog, Erich told himself. Send him a message. Get him to invite me. Don't go without me.
    "You liked my performance?" Sol sounded amazed.
    "Sol--" Jacob Freund said.
    Erich crawled forward and, parting the curtain just enough to peek out, saw Rathenau hold up a hand in a gesture of forbearance. "Quite all right, my friend. The boy is naturally confused."
    The Foreign Minister reached out and touched Sol's cheek. Erich put his hand against his own face.
    "I shall explain myself further at luncheon, young man," Rathenau said, "unless, of course, you have other plans. Or perhaps you'd simply rather not come."
    "Oh, no...I mean yes...I'd love to come, but--"
    "But?" Herr Freund sounded dumbfounded.
    "Herr Foreign Minister," Sol said, almost too softly to be heard, "...could...do you think...could my friend, Erich, come with us?"
    The Foreign Minister eyed Sol's father, who returned the look without a sign of emotion. There it was, Erich thought. What Papa called the attitudinal interchange between classes. Herr Freund, the impassive merchant; Rathenau, his statesman's gaze bespeaking loftier aspirations and ideals than the sale of cigars, even to customers of wealth and power.
    "Solomon will be honored to go with you, Herr Rathenau," Herr Freund said, his expressionless voice and face masking what Erich was sure must be a racing pulse. He remembered what he had heard the night he'd awakened and his mother was crying and his father was shouting, That Jew is humble-ambitious, I tell you. Humble-ambitious!
    "What time should we have him ready?" Sol's father asked.
    Have them ready, Erich corrected. Surely Rathenau would include him in the luncheon, now that Sol had asked--
    "We have established that it is all right with you, Herr Freund," the Foreign Minister said. "Now let us hear from the boy."
    Not boys. Erich felt his heart plummet and he chided himself for ever having admired the Foreign Minister.
    "I am...honored," Sol mumbled. His hand trembled as he pushed his glasses back up onto the bridge of his nose.
    Ask him again, Erich begged mentally.
    "Good. I shall call for you at--" Rathenau opened his watch-- "shall we say twelve?"
    Father and son nodded in unison. Herr Freund walked around the counter and opened the door for Rathenau. Sol looked back, grimaced, and followed the two men into the street.
    Erich crept along behind the counter for a better look. The statesman's chauffeur, a massive, homely man, leaned comfortably against the limousine. When he heard the bell above the door, he straightened up. He smoothed back his hair, which hung to his collar, slicked it beneath his cap, and held open the car door.