"But why are we taking the wagon?" Jurek asked.
"Because after the mayor fills out a form, we need the signature of the authorities."
Jurek climbed onto the wagon. From the mayor's they continued on their way. Jurek lay in the straw on the bottom of the wagon and fell asleep. He awoke when the farmer stopped his horse. They were in Gestapo headquarters. At first he thought he was having a nightmare. No one had told him that "the authorities" meant the Gestapo. The young officer was standing in the yard. He hurried over to Jurek with a big grin and yanked him out of the wagon.
"So you're back, eh? I know you're a Jew. But this time I'm not going to kill you. You're too smart for that, and I like you."
The astounded farmer let himself be consoled with the bounty he was given for turning in a Jew and drove off. The officer handed Jurek to a soldier. The soldier made him take off his clothes, shaved his head, ordered him to bathe, and gave him clean clothes and a pair of shoes.
"They're the smallest size I have," he said. "Stuff some rags into them."
"Give me back what was in my pockets," Jurek said.
The soldier gave him back his slingshot and Marisza's magnifying glass.
"Where's my knife?"
"The officer kept it."
The soldier took Jurek to a small room with a chair, a table, and a large window looking out on the forest. He had never had his own private room before. Sometimes, at night, screams and moans reached it from the basement, where Jurek had been. He would awake shivering all over. In the morning it was quiet again. A wagon would come and leave with something beneath a tarpaulin.
Jurek became the officer's valet. He cleaned his clothes and brushed his boots. At first, the German wasn't satisfied. He explained that he wanted his boots to be so shiny that he could see his reflection in them. It took Jurek a while to master the art of it. While he was still learning he was given a slap for every speck of dirt on the boots. In his spare time he sat in the kitchen with the Polish cook. He ate so much that he developed a paunch.
"So you're a Jew?" she asked him one day.
"No. I'm not."
"I know you are, son. The officer told me."
Jurek said nothing.
"It's nothing to be ashamed of. Jews are human too."
As though to prove it, she took a large piece of chocolate from the closet and gave it to him.
***
It was already summer when the officer summoned Jurek one day and said, "Put on your shoes and come with me."
Jurek came back with his shoes on. The officer put him, together with a dog, in the sidecar of his motorcycle, and they set out.
Jurek wondered where he was being taken. Although the German saw the worry in his face, he merely smiled and said nothing. After a while they left the main road and crossed some fields until they came to a big farm.
"The village near here is called Krumnow," the German said, parking in the yard. "I'm bringing you to a girlfriend of mine. You'll work for her. Behave yourself and everything will be all right. And here's your knife back."
"Thank you," Jurek said in German.
The officer dismounted. A young woman came to greet him. She was wearing boots and her sleeves were rolled up to her elbows.
"This is Frau Herman," the officer said, introducing her to Jurek. He winked. "She's the beautiful wife of Meister Herman."
Jurek didn't know why he was being winked at. The officer said to the woman, "I've brought you a new hand. He's an excellent worker. Look how he polishes my boots." He raised one boot for Pani Herman to inspect it.
She looked at Jurek.
"Watch the dog while I'm gone," the officer said. He and Pani Herman walked off, laughing merrily.
Jurek stayed on at Pani Herman's. From her other workers he learned that she was a Pole of German extraction. Her husband worked for the Germans, and she ran their farm by herself. The Gestapo supplied her with free labor from the ranks of convicts and debtors. It didn't take Jurek long to learn that you had to toe the line with her. Any slackers could expect a beating from the Gestapo. He did as he was told and carried out orders promptly and carefully. The work he liked best was taking the cows to pasture, because then he was far away from Pani Herman's demands.
The officer came to visit often. Whenever he saw Jurek, he told him to mind his dog.
"Can I play with it?" Jurek asked him one day in German.
"You know German?"
"A bit."
"I forgot you once had a dog. Yes, you can throw him a stick and tell him to fetch. Say 'Good dog' when he brings it back to you. Can you say that in German?"
Jurek said it.
"Excellent."
Jurek missed Azor.
***
It was threshing time. The Hermans' farm was large and mechanized. The threshing was done by a machine with huge wooden wheels turned by something called a rotary walker. This was made of cogwheels propelled by a shaft operated by a team of horses driven in a circle. A long, wide belt ran from the shaft to the thresher, from which grains of wheat poured like pure gold.