In The Presence Of My Enemies

"I can do nothing. No one can do anything." Dr. Dambach's voice was hard and flat. "There is no cure. All children who have Tay-Sachs disease will die, usually before they turn five. I intend to recommend to the Kleins that they take the baby to a Reichs Mercy Center, to spare it this inevitable suffering. Then I intend to go out and get drunk."

He couldn't bring himself to come right out and talk about killing a baby, though that was what he meant. The Germans who'd slaughtered Jews hadn't talked straight out about what they were doing, either, though people weren't so shy about it any more. Here, Esther had more sympathy. "How awful for you," she said. "And how much worse for the Kleins! What causes this horrible disease? Could they have done anything to keep the baby from getting it?"

Dr. Dambach shook his head. "No. Nothing. It's genetic. If both parents carry the recessive, and if the two recessives come together…" He spread his hands. Even that gesture didn't remind him of the cheese pie he was holding. Intent on his own thoughts, he went on, "We don't see the disease very often these days. I have never seen it before, thank heaven, and I hope I never see it again. The books say it used to be fairly common among the Jews, though, before we cleaned them out… Are you all right,Frau Stutzman?"

"Yes, I think so. This is all just so-so dreadful." Esther made herself nod. Dambach nodded back, accepting what she'd said. He couldn't know why her heart had skipped a beat. A good thing, too. He couldn't come out and talk about killing a baby, but he took the extermination of the Jews for granted. Why not? He hadn't even been born when it happened.

"Dreadful,ja. A very unfortunate coincidence. Even among the Jews it was not common, you understand, but it was up to a hundred timesmore common among them than it is among Aryans." Dambach thoughtfully rubbed his chin. "Did you happen to see on the news a few days ago the story about the Jews found in that village in backwoods Serbia?"

How to answer? Esther saw only one way: casually. "I sure did. Who would have imagined such a thing, in this day and age?" What she wanted to do was get up and run from the doctor's office. That that would be the worst thing she could possibly do didn't matter. Reason held her in her chair, held a polite smile on her face. Behind the facade, instinct screamed.

Still thoughtful, Dr. Dambach went on, "Tay-Sachs disease is so rare among Aryans, it almost makes one wonder…"

Ice lived in Esther. "Don't be silly, Doctor," she said, keeping up the casual front. "None ofthem left any more, not in a civilized country." Pretending she wasn't a Jew was second nature to her; she'd done it almost automatically ever since she learned what she was. But mocking, scorning her true heritage wasn't so easy. She didn't have to do that very often, simply because Jews were so nearly extinct.

"I suppose you're right," the pediatrician said, and relief flowered like springtime in her. But then he added, "Still…"

The door to the waiting room opened. In came Irma Ritter, who would work in the afternoon. She was even rounder than Dr. Dambach. Pointing to the slice of cheese pie in his hand, she asked, "Any more of that left?"

He looked down in surprise. "I don't know," he said, sounding foolish. "Let me go look." While he did, Esther made her escape-and that was exactly what it felt like.

Alicia Gimpel and her sisters were playing an elaborate game with dolls. Part of it came from an adventure film they'd seen a few weeks before, but that was only the springboard; more came straight from their imaginations. "Here." Roxane picked up one of the few male dolls they had. "He can be the nasty Jew who's trying to cheat the dragons out of their cave."

"No!" Alicia exclaimed before remembering she wasn't supposed to say anything like that no matter what.

"Why not?" Roxane clouded up. "You never like any of my ideas. It's not fair."

"I think Alicia's right this time," Francesca said. "He's not ugly enough to be a Jew."

That wasn't why Alicia had said no, of course. She seized on it gratefully all the same. "Yes, that is what I meant," she said. She still didn't like lying to her sisters, but she didn't see what she could do about it, either. She couldn't tell the truth. She could see that.They'll find out soon enough, she thought from the height of her own ten years.

Roxane examined the doll, who was indeed plastic perfection. "Well, we canpretend he's ugly," she declared, and made him advance on the cardboard box doing duty for a cave. In a high, squeaky, unnatural voice, she said, "Here, dragons, I'll give you these beans if you'll move away from here and never come back. They may be magic beans." She laughed shrilly and whispered, "And they may not, too."

Francesca reached into the box and pulled out a stuffed dragon. "You nasty old Jew, you're trying to fool us. You'd better get out of here or I'll burn your ears off."