Afraid of the Dark - James Grippando [148]
“These are the children,” said Eliška.
Jack and Andie came to her side, and now he could see through the blanket of snow and shadows. Eighty-nine bronze children were looking back at him. Eliška’s hand was shaking as she handed him a card. It was a list of names and dates. Two names were circled for him. Petrak, Miloslav: 1931. Petrak, Zdenek: 1933.
“They were nine and eleven when they were gassed,” she said.
The thought sent chills down Jack’s spine. “Is that the same Petrak that runs in my family?”
“Petrak is common name,” said Eliška. “But in 1942, it was very dangerous name.”
“Why?” asked Jack. But the moment he said it, he remembered Andie’s research on General Petrak, the leader in exile of the Czech resistance.
“Nazis knew General Petrak helped with assassination. No need to prove relations to be guilty.”
Jack’s gaze swept the memorial. Children of all ages, from one to seventeen. He was drawn to two, in particular, that looked to be the figures of boys aged nine and eleven.
“That way,” said Eliška, “about two hundred meters. That is your grandfather’s spot.”
Jack didn’t move. He still didn’t understand. “How do you mean, ‘his spot’?”
“It was a barn. I met Joseph there. Eight of us, in hiding. Joseph was with his mother.”
“Petrak was her maiden name,” said Jack.
“Yes. One week before massacre, we all hear it not safe to stay in Lidice. Not safe for Jews. Not safe for a Petrak. We leave in time.”
It finally made sense. “My grandfather got confused at the end. He told me he was Jewish.”
She smiled sadly. “He was,” she said, “and I was a Petrak. Now go. Go and do your grandfather’s wishes.”
Andie urged him forward with her eyes, as if to say this was his moment.
The sculpture overlooked a valley, and the walk to the spot was entirely downhill. But it didn’t make it any easier for Jack. As he trudged through the snow, he was thinking of his grandfather. He was thinking of his friend Neil, too.
He stopped exactly where Eliška had told him to stop. A wisp of wind grabbed the fresh snow and covered his shoes with powder. He dug the canister from his coat pocket and removed the top.
“I’m a Petrak,” he said as he released some of the ashes into the wind. Then he remembered Neil’s family name before fear of the Nazis had changed it to Goderich.
“And I’m a Goldsmith,” he said, watching the remaining ashes scatter.
Acknowledgments
My sincere thank you . . .
To my editor, Sally Kim; my agent, Richard Pine; and Sally’s editorial assistant, Maya Ziv, who did a great job shepherding my eighteenth novel through production while Sally was on maternity leave. Olive will be in high school by the time I write another eighteen novels, and I guess her mother should hear this now: It will fly.
To Janis Koch (aka “Conan the Grammarian”), who is fighting to save the world from misspellings and bad grammar, one book at a time. (Don’t get her started on the impact of texting on the English language.) The errors that remain in Afraid of the Dark are all mine.
To Kevin Smith—inventor, scientist, and your basic all-around genius who could write a book on creative solutions for suspense writers who have painted themselves into a technological corner. Who knew what cool things you could do with aluminum foil?
To my sister, Roberta Hall, for the genealogical legwork that led me to our “Petrak” ancestors in Bohemia, and to the Muzeum Památníku Lidice, for the wealth of information on the sad history of Lidice and the Lidice Memorial.
Finally, to my wife, Tiffany. I’d be afraid of much more than the dark without you in my life.
JMG
May 20, 2010
About the Author
JAMES GRIPPANDO is the New York Times bestselling author of eighteen previous novels, including Money to Burn, Intent to Kill, Born to Run, Last Call, Lying with Strangers, When Darkness Falls, and Got the Look, which are enjoyed worldwide in twenty-six languages. He lives in Florida, where he was a trial lawyer.
Visit www.AuthorTracker.com for exclusive information on your favorite HarperCollins author.
Also by James Grippando