“Yes, please,” I said. “Although you must do your studying.”
“Not while I eat a hamburger that’s going to drip all over the place, I mustn’t.” He took a bite and said, after a minute, “This is great.”
“Yes,” I said. “Susie, as I mentioned.”
“How did the job search go?” he asked. “Or did you skip it, since you weren’t feeling well?”
“Of course I didn’t skip it.” The warm meat, so flavorful and juicy, was delightful, and as for the mushrooms and cheese, and the mustard I’d added to the buns in a rebellion against the so-terrible ketchup? I was possibly a culinary genius. “Susie said the shops would be hiring extra staff for Christmas, as people do seem to have a great deal of money they wish to spend despite the eight percent, so I went to many of them and asked.”
“And?”
I sighed and took a sip of tea. “They didn’t want me.”
“Oh.” Joe digested that, or possibly merely chewed his hamburger. “That sounds too personal. You mean that they weren’t hiring.”
“No, because some had signs on the door. ‘Help Wanted.’ This means that they wish to fill a position.”
“Why wouldn’t they want you, then?” Joe asked. “I don’t get it. Did you tell them about the bakery? I’ve seen you with customers. You’re a natural.”
“They don’t want Germans.”
“Oh.” A moment, and then he said, “You told them you were German?”
“But of course. It’s clear that I’m not American—well, I am, I suppose, but a verynewAmerican. My accent is British, but my speech is not yet precisely …” I tried not to remember the looks on the faces of the women—they were mostly women in the shops I’d tried, for who would employ me to sell nails or automobile parts? The disgust. The anger, even. The woman in the bakery, whom I’d thought would surely want me but had said instead, “My husband died on Omaha Beach. I don’t know who let you into this country, but as far as I’m concerned, you’re the enemy and you always will be. And now you want to take an American job, too? Go on, get out, and don’t come back. I don’t serve Germans.”
I didn’t tell Joe about that, for it was humiliating even to recall. My throat had burned with shame all the way home on my bicycle, and when I’d finally closed the door to the apartment, I’d burst into tears. Weakness, but I was always weakest when I was bleeding. Tomorrow, I’d find a way, I’d told myself as I’d pressed a cold facecloth to my swollen eyes. But whatwasthe way? One of the women had told me that I should look for work as a maid, “where you won’t come into contact with other people.”
“And you’re sure that was it?” Joe asked. “The German thing?”
“Yes,” I said. “It was clear.” It was all I could say. I set the tray to one side, although I’d eaten less than half my hamburger. Now that I’d succumbed to the weakness, it was overtaking me.
“Well, the answer’s pretty easy,” Joe said.
“Oh?” I tried to smile. “What’s that?”
“You say you’re Swiss,” Joe said. “Or even better—that you’re French. You’re Marguerite from Paris, who married an American. You’re beautiful, you’re chic, you’re petite, and you’re Parisian. It can’t miss. How can you forget walking beside the Seine, or the view of Notre Dame by night, or the artists’ cafés on the Left Bank? You already have a beret. Add a striped shirt and a baguette under your arm, and hey presto—Marguerite from Paris!”
He was laughing, but I wasn’t.
“But this would be a lie,” I said.
“And it was a lie that Dr. Becker wasn’t Jewish,” Joe said. “And that you were eighteen, and that your last name was Glücksburg.”
“But those things were not for gain,” I said. “They were to shield the Beckers, and for …”
“For survival,” Joe said. “If people are going to have these prejudices, what else can you do? Isn’t this survival too? It’s not like you’re going to be entertaining the customers with tales of your childhood living on a freight barge on the Seine. You’re going to be selling them gloves, or cheese, or whatever it is, with your charming accent and funny turns of phrase. They’ll love it. See if they don’t.”
“Your rabbi wouldn’t say this,” I said. “My priest wouldn’t say this either. These are not good ethics.”
“Well,” Joe said, “they already have jobs.” Which made me laugh at last. “Ethics, schmethics. What else can you do, if people are going to be that prejudiced? And do you want me to finish that hamburger?”
“Yes, please,” I said. “And then I’ll wash the dishes with you, for I’m feeling much better, truly.”
“Nope,” he said. “You’ll finish your tea and read your book, right there in bed. What have you got here? Looks thick.” He picked up the book on the nightstand, then looked at me, hisexpression quizzical.“Principles of Genetics.This is my textbook.”
“Yes. It’s very interesting, is it not? All about mutations and chromosomes and butterflies of different colors. I’ve had to look up a great many words, but this is also good for my vocabulary. I won’t speak of it to my new employer, though, whoever he may be. It could strike him as a mostGermansubject. In the worst possible way.”
You see how well I understood how to go on now amongst Americans. I was really quite proud of myself.
