Puppet by Eva Wiseman Page A

That's what Mr. Bary and Chief Recsky say too. Can they all be wrong? I can't help wondering sometimes if we deserve their hatred?”
    “My ma said there are good and bad people among the Jews, same as everybody else. I think she was right. When I sold eggs to the Jewish women, some of them were miserable to me and some were nice. Did you forget that your pa is a good man? What about the Rosenbergs? Look how kind they've been to Sophie! Dr. Weltner? He tried to cure my ma and gave her medicines to help her even though we had no money to pay him. I don't understand why so many people hate the Jews. I guess there are some people who need somebody to hate.”
    “Why?”
    “I don't know why. Ask your visitor. He is supposed to be a smart man.”
    “You have to tell me who's coming.”
    “Here's the good news I promised you. His name is Karl Eotvos. He's the lawyer who's going to defend the Jews from Tisza-Eszlar. Mr. Heumann, their old lawyer, says that the trial is too difficult for him to handle alone. He'll be still helping with the case, but Mr. Eotvos will be in charge.”
    “Eotvos … It's not a Jewish name.”
    “He is a Christian. In fact, he's a nobleman.”
    “Then I don't understand why …”
    I put my hand out. “Wait and hear what he has to say.”
    I took the second biscuit out of my pocket and slipped it into his palm, careful not to touch his hand.
    “Eat this before somebody comes!”
    “Delicious!” he said, gobbling it down. “You're a good friend to me, Julie. I wish I could give you a hug.”
    “Me too.”
    We grinned at each other shyly. Morris grew serious again. “I need your help, Julie,” he said. “Tomorrow is my mama's yarzheit, the anniversary of her death. I want to pray for her soul and light a candle in her memory. Could you bring me a candle and matches?”
    “My ma is also in heaven. You're lucky to have another mother.”
    His face darkened.
    “I hate my … I forget how you say … not real mother.”
    “You mean, stepmother.”
    “Yes, that's what I mean. I hate her! She doesn't care about me. She only cares for Sam. I can't imagine what she thinks of me now.”
    “Don't say bad things about your stepmother. She is also your mother!”
    “No, she isn't!” he said angrily. He sighed. “I wish my real mama was here. She would understand that I had to do what I did.”
    I know in my heart that my dear mother is watching over me from heaven. Don't be scared. “I'm sure that your mother is watching over you too. She won't let you come to harm.”
    Morris didn't reply. I stood up and smoothed my apron.
    “I'll try to get some matches and a candle for you. If I can't find them anywhere else, I know that Warden Henter keeps both in his office.”
    “Be careful, Julie. I don't want you to get in trouble on my account.”

CHAPTER 12
SUNDAY, JUNE 18, 1882
    I dreamt of Clara again. She was crying for me. All the while that I was taking Morris his candle and matches and washing the dishes I could not shake the feeling I had to see her. How could I get to Csonkafuzes? I couldn't come up with a solution, but I did get a pounding headache. When I told Teresa I felt ill, she suggested I go for a short walk.
    “I can spare you for a half-hour but not longer,” she said. “There won't be church for you today. I still have a lot to do before the visitors arrive. I'll need your help.”
    I decided to walk down the lane running along the prison. The sun was shining outside and I started to feel better right away.
    As I was passing under one of the barred windows set high up into the wall, I heard the sound of praying. I lookeddown the street. Nobody was in sight. A greengrocer's wheelbarrow piled high with watermelons had been left under the window. Its owner must have been making a delivery to one of the neighboring shops. I looked around again. The street was still deserted. I grabbed the edge of the wheelbarrow and climbed up on top of the melons. The watermelons rolled under my