An Uncommon Family

by Christa Polkinhorn

  Why then did Uncle Werner tell him such stories? Why did they used to play “Killing Jews”?

  So the following time, he was alone with Uncle Werner, he asked him. “What did you do during the war, Uncle Werner?” His mother was in the kitchen preparing the meal, and his father had gone to get a bottle of wine from the cellar.

  Uncle Werner squinted his small eyes, which made him look mean. “I bet your mother told you all kinds of bad things about me.”

  Jonas shook his head. “No.”

  “Oh well. She doesn’t understand. She’s just too naive.” Uncle Werner picked up his mug of beer and took a large swig. Then he put it down on the table with a bang.

  “These were rough times, Jonas. All the able-bodied Swiss men were at the border. We were defending our country. Always remember that, Jonas.”

  Uncle Werner patted Jonas’s arm. “Always remember your heritage, Jonas. You are a good Swiss boy.” He took another swig from his beer mug. Jonas watched the bulge in his throat as he swallowed and burped. Werner glanced over his shoulder toward the door to the kitchen. Jonas heard his mother and father talking and the clatter of dishes as his mother prepared the meal.

  Werner narrowed his eyes and bent his head toward Jonas. A cloud of beer breath hit Jonas’s face. “What I tell you now you don't have to repeat to your parents, okay? Your mother and father and I don’t see eye to eye on this.”

  Jonas nodded.

  “We defended our country from the Nazis. But we also prevented those dirty Jews from infiltrating our land.”

  “Why were they dirty?” Jonas stared at Uncle Werner. Jakob wasn't dirty. In fact, he was always well dressed and clean.

  Werner waved his hand and spoke in a loud voice. “They stink of money. That's all they ever think about. Making money and hoarding it. A bunch of misers and moneygrubbing bastards. Too bad Hitler didn’t manage to get rid of all of them.”

  “Jakob doesn’t stink,” Jonas said, feeling anger rise in him and his eyes fill with tears. All of a sudden, he realized that something was wrong with the man whom he had admired. The games he had played with him—shooting Jews—now seemed mean. And Jonas was ashamed that he had enjoyed playing them. If Jakob knew—

  “Werner!” Jonas’s mother shouted, interrupting Jonas’s thoughts. She was at the door, a plate of food in her hands. She turned around and walked back into the kitchen. When she came back without the plate, her face was red and she was trembling.

  “I told you many times not to talk like that. You’re polluting Jonas with your sick mind.”

  Uncle Werner lifted his hands in a defensive gesture. “I’m just telling him the truth.”

  “No, that’s not the truth. These are lies, hateful lies, and I’m ashamed of you being my brother, Werner. I want you to leave, right now.”

  “Mathilde, calm down.” Jonas’s father put his hand on her shoulder. But his mother pushed him away.

  Jonas saw tears in his mother’s eyes. “Please, Werner, just leave. There’s no lunch. I’m not hungry anymore.” She left the living room and Jonas heard her sob in the kitchen.

  Jonas’s father shrugged and turned to Werner. “She’ll calm down. But I hope you learned your lesson. Don’t ever talk to my son like this again.”

  Werner opened his mouth to say something, then closed it again, shook his head, and got up and left.

  Jonas, shocked at his uncle’s hateful words and his mother’s outburst, went into the kitchen. His mother was standing at the window, looking out. She seemed to have stopped crying.

  “Mom?”

  Mathilde turned around, brushed the tears from her face. She held her hands out to Jonas. “Come here, honey.”

  Jonas went up to her and buried his face in her apron. It smelled of food, a mixture of roasted pork and vegetables. He realized he was hungry. Jonas glanced at his mother’s face. “Is there no lunch today?”

  His mother gave a quick smile. “Don’t worry. We’ll eat.” Then she put her hand under his chin and looked at him with a serious face. “Don’t believe anything Uncle Werner tells you. It’s not true.” She sighed. “He is my brother, but he is a sick man. I don’t know what happened to him.”

  From that day on, Jonas’s family and Uncle Werner barely saw each other anymore. Jonas, feeling guilty for his uncle and his own involvement in the war games, tried to be extra kind to Jakob. Soon, he forgot the incident until many years later when his uncle’s words and his role during the war would come to haunt him.

  PART FOUR

  Chapter 30

  The schoolyard was loud and busy during the first week after summer vacation. Kids exchanged stories about their vacation and teenagers checked out each other’s tans and clothes. Although the most expensive brand-name articles were rare in this small town, a few of the kids wore their newest designer jeans.

  Karla and Maja were sitting on a stone bench in the schoolyard. They were still largely unconcerned about the fashion statements of the older kids, although Karla did change her top three times in the morning, trying to find the perfect color match for her new pair of khaki pants. She finally picked a green-and-red patterned blouse with a few splashes of the same light brown as her pants. Anna had simply rolled her eyes as Karla darted out the door. She almost didn’t make it in time to her first class.

  The two girls were suntanned and healthy looking after their three-week stay with Lena and her new husband, Luigi, in the Vallemaggia in the south of the country. They had helped Luigi, who was a mountain farmer, take care of the sheep and goats up in the Alps. It had been a fun time and Karla and Maja had felt like Heidi in the children’s novel by Johanna Spyri, the Swiss author whose book had become famous all over the world. They both had learned how to milk goats and had helped a farmer make cheese.

  Now, school was in session again. It was late August and the children tried to get used to the daily routine of getting up early, homework, and new subjects in school. The weather forecast predicted rain and the summer heat was giving way to the first cool nights and early mornings.

  A few boys were playing soccer nearby. They were a couple of years older than Karla and Maja. Karla was almost ten and Maja was eleven. The boys played rough and were screaming and cursing. One of them tossed the ball at Maja, but only hit the corner of the bench. The ball bounced back and ended up in the ditch.

  His friends taunted him as he went to fetch the ball. He bounced it up and down hard, edging closer to the girls. He scanned the schoolyard, checking if a teacher was nearby, then faced Maja. “Hey you, dirty Serb,” he yelled at her. He was tall and somewhat overweight, with a fleshy face and mean-looking eyes. He was known for his bullying and ended up in principal’s office quite a lot.

  Maja’s face darkened. She was a frequent target of his verbal attacks. “I’m not a Serb, you idiot. I’m Croatian. Don’t you know the difference?”

  “All the same to me,” he said. “Damn foreigners.”

  “It’s not the same, you dummy,” Maja shouted.

  Karla put her hand on Maja’s shoulder. “Ignore him. He just wants to pick a fight.”

  The kid scowled at her. “Call me ‘dummy’ one more time and I’ll kill you.”

  Maja was a feisty girl, used to having to defend herself, and she didn’t shy away from a fight. She stood up. “Dummy,” she repeated in a taunting tone.

  Wilhelm scrunched his face, picked up a stone that happened to lie nearby, and tossed it a Maja. She ducked, but the stone hit her on the forehead, leaving a gash. Blood oozed from her wound, sliding in a thin line down her face. She sat down stunned, holding her head. When she saw the blood on her hand, she started to cry. Karla ripped her handkerchief out of her pocket and put it on Maja’s forehead, trying to halt the bleeding.

  All noise stopped on the schoolyard. The kids stood around and stared at Maja, who wept silently. Wilhelm stood still with his hands deep in his pockets, looking subdued.

  When Karla saw Maja’s miserable face and the pain in her eyes, som
ething snapped in her. Her fear and pity for her friend turned to rage. She got up and faced Wilhelm. “You’re an evil, cruel jerk,” she shouted.

  Wilhelm shrugged his shoulder. “She started it.”

  “That’s not true. You insulted her.” Karla, not knowing what came over her, charged at him.

  He took a step back, trying to avoid the girl, who seemed to have turned into a fury. His foot caught on a small branch lying on the ground and he stumbled and fell. The next thing Karla knew was that she was on top of him, hammering his chest and face with her fists.

  “What is going on here?” Karla heard a teacher’s voice. Someone grabbed her by the shoulder and yanked her up. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  “He threw a stone at Maja,” Karla yelled. Realizing she was speaking to a person of authority, she swallowed and stared at the teacher’s angry face.

  The school nurse took care of Maja’s wound. Wilhelm and Karla were sent to the principal’s office. Wilhelm was suspended for a few days. He received a warning that next time he was caught bullying, he would be expelled from school. His parents were going to be informed of the incident.

  “Now to you.” The principal gave Karla a stern look after Wilhelm was dismissed. He was a tall man with a brown crew cut and sharp gray eyes. He reminded Karla of a general in the army and she was always a little afraid of him. She looked down and stared at her shoes.

  “I appreciate the fact that you tried to help your friend,” the principal said in a gentler tone. “However, beating someone up is not the way to deal with a problem. Next time something like this happens, you tell a teacher about it and let him or her deal with it. Is that clear?”

  Karla lifted her head and nodded. She thought she detected a glimmer of humor in the man’s eyes. Then his face became serious again.

  “And so you won’t forget, you’re going to write ‘Hitting is not the solution’ fifty times and hand it in to your teacher tomorrow. Okay?” He squinted his eyes and glanced at her. “Is that scratch on your face from the fight?”

  Karla touched her cheek. There was a faint burning sensation. Wilhelm must have scratched her, trying to defend himself. “I guess so,” she said.

  “Make sure the school nurse or your moth— . . . I mean, your aunt cleanses it so it doesn’t get infected, all right?”

  “Yes, thanks,” Karla whispered.

  The principal looked through the window at the courtyard. “I think your friend is waiting for you.” He nodded at the door. “You can leave now.”

  Outside, Maja was sitting on a bench. She had a large Band-Aid on her forehead. “I didn’t need stitches,” she said as Karla came outside. She got up and gave her a hug. “Thanks. Are you in trouble now?”

  Karla glanced back at the principal’s office. He was standing at the window, watching them, a touch of a smile on his lips.

  “Just a little bit,” Karla said and told Maja about the assignment.

  Chapter 31

  “What happened to your face?” Jonas asked as Karla stepped into the hallway, carrying her art portfolio. Her long dark hair was tied into French braids and there was a whiff of a new eau de cologne on her. She’s growing up. The only small blemish on her beautiful face was a faint scratch all the way across her left cheek.

  Karla put her portfolio down and checked herself in the mirror. “I got into a fight with a guy at school,” she said.

  “You did what?” Jonas raised his eyebrows in astonishment. He couldn’t imagine Karla in a fight with anyone, let alone a boy.

  Karla grinned and told him of the incident with Maja and Wilhelm a few days before. Jonas burst out laughing and slapped his thigh. “I would’ve loved to have seen that. You actually pounded him? I guess that taught him a lesson.”

  “He’s become a little nicer. At least, he keeps away from Maja and me,” Karla said.

  “Well, I’m proud of you for standing up for your friend. Just be careful. Beating up on a bigger boy may not always go over that well. You may get more than a scratch on your face.”

  Jonas watched Karla unpack her things. Over the past couple of years he had been working with her, her artwork had matured and he was thinking of new ways to further her talent. “I have an idea,” he said. “I received the go-ahead to paint a mural on one of the city walls with a few of my students. Would you be interested? It’s a whole different kind of painting but I think you would enjoy it.”

  Karla gave him a thoughtful look. “I’ve never painted a mural, but it sounds like fun.”

  Jonas waved his hand. “It is. Besides, you need to be around other students more. It gets you exposed to different ways of painting and drawing.”

  Karla shrugged. “Cool. Can we start now? Look what I got.” She lifted a new box of oil pastels up in the air and grinned at him. “Anna said she was going to end up in the poorhouse because of me.” It was a box of expensive oil pastels Karla had coveted for some time.

  “Not bad,” Jonas said. “So what made her change her mind and buy them?”

  “I helped her with her accounting and I promised to help out in the bookstore once a week after school.”

  “In other words, you bribed her.”

  “Yep,” Karla said and winked at him.

  While Karla was busy painting, Jonas began to work on a draft of a picture of his own. Every once in a while, he glanced at the girl. Today, it became clear to him how much she had changed over the past few years. Not only had her painting improved but she had become a happier, more open and courageous young girl. She was growing up fast. In a couple of years, she would be a teenager.

  Her fight with the boy at school reminded him of his own youth. He had to admit that he hadn’t been half as courageous when it came to defending a friend who was bullied by others. He was thinking of Jakob, his Jewish friend from school. Jakob came from a fairly Orthodox Jewish family. Some of the other boys had made fun of him because he wore a kippah, the Jewish cap, and went to synagogue on Saturdays.

  Jonas and Jakob had been good friends, but Jonas didn’t exactly go out of his way to defend Jakob when the other boys teased him. Jonas remembered an incident when someone made an insulting remark and everybody, including himself, had laughed. He stopped as soon as he saw the hurt and disappointment on Jakob’s face. He told the others to shut up and leave him alone, but it was too late. He had already betrayed his friend.

  Fortunately, Jakob hadn’t been the kind of boy who held a grudge. They had continued to be friends. However, Jonas wondered if he had had the courage to defend him against a bunch of bullies the way Karla had done with her friend. Perhaps Karla, who had already experienced the loss of loved ones as a child, was more aware of how precious friends were—something Jonas had only learned later in life. The death of Eva had brought him closer to the people around him that he had up until then taken for granted. They hadn’t been able to take away the pain, but they had saved him from the most dangerous plunge into loneliness.

  Chapter 32

  Jonas and Anna were sitting in front of Anna’s home, drinking tea and eating a piece of what was left of Karla’s birthday cake. They had celebrated her tenth birthday. Karla and Maja and a few of her other friends were having a sleepover at Anna’s. The girls were lying in their sleeping bags in Karla’s bedroom and had just quieted down after a lot of talking and giggling.

  It was a warm summer night. The light breeze coming from the forest nearby brought the scent of pines and an occasional whiff of honeysuckle. Crickets chirped, and in a nearby tree a mockingbird gave a sample of its plagiarized tunes.

  “Ten years old already, I can’t believe it.” Anna shook her head and poured Jonas another cup of tea.

  “Yeah, time flies,” Jonas said. “I remember so well when I first met her. She was lying on the ground, in tears, her knees all scraped.”

  “That was four years ago, almost to the day. It was in August after her sixth birthday,” Anna said.

  “She’s come a long way since then.”
/>
  Anna turned to Jonas. “You’ve helped her a lot, you know. I’m really grateful to you.”

  Jonas waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. “I may have taught her a few things about painting but she more than compensated me for that. She’s my favorite student and a great kid.” He cleared his throat. “I love her company . . . and yours as well. We make a good team.” He hesitated and Anna felt he wanted to say more. He lifted the teacup, then sat it down without drinking.

  She glanced at him. His blue eyes gazed at her with great intensity, making her heart pick up speed.

  “Anna . . . I’ve wanted to tell you this, but . . . I guess I’m out of practice. I really enjoy being with you, and . . .” Jonas gave a quick chuckle. “I guess I should stop talking in half sentences.” He became serious again. “I love you and . . . I want us to be more than friends.”

  Anna tried to swallow but her throat squeezed shut. When she found her voice again, it sounded unfamiliar. “Jonas,” she finally said. “I enjoy being with you, too. I just don’t know . . . I guess I’m afraid.”

  “I understand,” Jonas said. “I don’t need an answer today.”

  Anna noticed her hands were white and she realized she had clamped them together so hard that all the blood had drained out of them. She took a deep breath and relaxed them. I act worse than a sixteen-year-old.

  Jonas cleared his throat again. “And before you decide, you should know something about me, something I’m not very proud of. I know how you feel about honesty in relationships . . . I did in a way deceive Eva once.”

  Anna looked at him puzzled. A wave of disappointment surged through her chest. Not you as well?

  “Not with another woman, not like your husband did. It was more like I withheld something from her that I should have told her. But it was a kind of betrayal, too.”