Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals (Ukázka, strana 99)

Ledecký said. “You’ve got the best relationship with dogs of any boy in camp. That’s obvious from how long you hesitated before you took a bite. And even then, you didn’t enjoy it as much as everyone else.”

“No, I didn’t,” Tony said with a slight grimace. His stomach still wasn’t completely back to normal.

Then he turned his attention back to the mysterious box. I wonder what could be in it, he thought. He could hear a rattling sound from inside. It also struck Tony as suspicious that Ledecký had brought up the SPCA so out of the blue like that. But he didn’t want to ask him straight out. Not when he was making such a fuss about the whole thing.

Meanwhile the men were also getting curious.

“I used to sell margarine in boxes like that,” said Mr. Löwy. “Sana. Or was it Vitelo?”

“So you didn’t carry butter,” Mr. Glaser and Sons said scornfully.

“I kept the butter in the fridge,” Mr. Löwy said.

Mr. Brisch began examining the box. “For zat boks,” he said, “you vill not get more zan two ghetto marks.”8 He didn’t think it was worth very much, apparently.

8) In the ghetto, there was a saying that the Germans gave the Jews two great gifts: their own police (the Ghettowache) and their own currency (Ghetto-Geld). The Ghettowache didn’t protect anyone, and Ghetto-Geld didn’t buy you anything.

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But Ledecký was undeterred. “It isn’t the box. It’s what’s inside. Take a guess, Tony.”

“It’s something alive.”

“Bingo. But what?”

“A worm,” Tony said.

“Yuck,” said Ledecký. “That’s some imagination you’ve got. Do you really think I would bring you a worm to the hospital?”

“Then some kind of bug,” Tony said. He sounded disappointed. He didn’t much like bugs. Besides, he could catch a roach or earwig any time he wanted. Even in L 315.

“No, not a bug,” said Mr. Löwy. “It must be something bigger. Maybe a small dog.”

“No,” said Ledecký. “Not that. Our experience with small dogs hasn’t been very good, has it, Tony?”

“No, it hasn’t,” Tony said glumly. He remembered again how bad he had felt about Fifi.

“Vot about little lizard?” Mr. Brisch said. “Vhen ve vere little boy, ve catch zem all ze time.”

“Nope,” said Ledecký. “Not a lizard either.”

“A squirrel?” Tony asked.

“Are you kidding?” Ledecký said. “You know how big the box would have to be? Have you ever seen a squirrel?”

“Sure,” said Tony. “But I don’t really remember it.”

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“Maybe it’s a frog,” said Mr. Löwy. “When we were boys, we used to go catch frogs down at the pond.”

“Please,” said Mr. Glaser and Sons. “Do you see any pond here? There isn’t a pond for miles around.

The only part of this country with ponds is southern Bohemia.”

“Some frogs can live in puddles,” Mr. Löwy said.

“Don’t you remember the ditty? See the puddle in the street / See the toad crawl at your feet.”

“That’s just poetic license,” said Mr. Glaser and Sons. “Frogs don’t actually live in puddles. And if they did, then they couldn’t survive in a box.”

“All right then, I give up,” Tony said. He couldn’t stand it anymore.

Ledecký lifted the lid just enough for him to peek inside.

“A mouse,” Tony said. “That’s fantastic.”

He could have whooped for joy. But he voiced his happiness quietly. Tony was experienced for a boy of thirteen, and he had a hunch not everyone would be so excited about his mouse. Some of them might even turn their noses up at it.

That became obvious right away.

“A mouse,” said Mr. Glaser and Sons. “That doesn’t strike me as too suitable an animal for a hospital.”

“It’s certainly better than a worm,” said Mr. Löwy.

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