"He gave a sniff and told me that entertainment for its own sake is for people who do not value their souls”

S

isters, Wilhelm once told him, are a home-grown espionage system. Felix had thought his friend was exaggerating as usual, but the last few weeks have shown him otherwise.

Already Emmy has twice asked him for an explanation for a certain pensive look that, apparently, fell upon him in the late evening hours, and even hinted that it might be connected to a certain individual. He’d shrugged her off with what he hoped was nonchalance, tried not to protest too heavily.

But she was right. Every time his mind was not firmly distracted, it returned to Chasya. I am going to Eretz Yisrael.

How? Why? When? Really? Alone? But what about—

To the side, Felix, he orders himself sternly, put it all to the side.

“What are you doing?” Felix asks, with what he hopes is a hint of joviality.

Emmy is bent over a map that’s spread out on the dining-room table. He comes to stand behind her. Here and there, she has marked a red X. A ruler is in her hand, and she writes down her measurements on a piece of paper.

He jabs one of the X’s with his index finger. “What’s this?”

“A circus. That’s the one that sent the picture of the lady with this horse.”

“Aha. And the ruler?”

“I am measuring the distance.”

“Very scientific.”

He scans the map. “So all these X’s are traveling circuses?”

“More or less.”

“So many?”

She turns and looks up at him. “Seems like we have been quite deprived. They are quite the form of entertainment. They draw hundreds of spectators every evening.”

Felix thinks. “There was one in Prague a few years ago. I saw the advertisements and was fascinated — a picture of a man flying through the air. A trapeze artist, they are called. I begged Papa to take us.”

“And?”

“What do you think? If I remember correctly, he gave a sniff and told me that entertainment for its own sake is for people who do not value their souls.”