Restitution by Kathy Kacer Page A

lives in the village of Krušovice, close to Rakovník. His name is Václav Pekárek. As you will recall, his son, Jan, attended school with your daughter. The paintings will be safe there. You can be confident of that.”
    Marie nodded. Jirák was so sincere, and appeared so earnest, that her fears about losing the works were immediately laid to rest. Her husband had trusted this man and she would do the same. With these arrangements in place, her mind was temporarily eased.
    After Marie outlined her agreement with Jirák to him Karl asked, “Will we ever see our home again?”
    Marie had difficulty answering her son, and she looked away. After several minutes, she turned back to him. “We can’t worry about that right now,” she said. “For the time being, we’re safe and our belongings will be safe. The most important thing now is to get out of the country and to do it quickly.”
    Marie was right. This was not the time to worry about other things. The immediate order of business was to find a way to get out of the country, and do it while conditions were still relatively stable. The Nazis had predicted they would receive the same kind of reception in Czechoslovakia that had met them in Austria. Expecting the support of the masses, they anticipated moving quickly with new laws, including anti-Jewish measures. But because the citizens of Prague did not flock to show their adulation for the conquering army, few restrictions were imposed on Jews in the early days of the takeover, and Karl and his family were able to blend easily and quietly into life in the country’s capital.
    Almost immediately, Marie had arranged for Hana to go to school at a local public high school. Hana, bored by the inactivity and confinement of their villa, had been only too delighted to begin attending classes.
    â€œI told you it would be a new adventure,” she told Karl confidently as she headed out for classes one bright morning. The snow and cold had left Prague almost as quickly as it had arrived, and while it was still rather gray and bleak outside, the assault of winter was retreating.
    â€œJust be careful, Hana,” warned Karl. He did not want to jolt his younger sister out of her easy state of mind, but Karl had listened to his mother’s dire predictions about the fate of Czech Jews for too long. For him, it felt as if the country was waiting for the guillotine to fall. Still, Hana laughed easily as she walked out the door.
    School was not an option for Karl. He had already missed his final examinations in Rakovník, and it would be impossible to find a place where he could register for exams in Prague without drawing too much attention to himself. He imagined the conversations with school officials; “Why did you leave your home town just as your matura was taking place? Why did you have to leave so quickly? Why could you not wait a few more days – a few more weeks?” These were questions that Karl was not prepared to answer. Although school had never occupied the most important place in his life, he mourned the loss of the completion of his education just as he mourned the loss of his home. He often wondered if their house had been plundered, either by Nazi soldiers or by greedy natives of Rakovník who couldn’t wait to be rid of their Jewish neighbors. Was everything they had once owned now gone?
    When his mother found a tutor for him in the city, and he began taking private lessons in Spanish and English, Karl’s days were occupied and he found that he worried less. He also managed to locate his friend, George Popper, who had been attending university in Prague for almost a year. The two young men easily picked up their friendship.
    â€œI’m concerned about my family,” George said one afternoon as he and Karl stood waiting in line at one of the many financial institutions in Prague. Each day, Marie sent Karl to one of the banks to withdraw