Birthday? Who apart from city folk and Jewish boys remember their birthdays?
“Wait here,” Felix says, and he leaves them standing, uncertain, on the grass. They watch the people mass together, filling the cold air with puffs of white as they talk and smoke. Hannah gives a long sigh. This is the third circus they are visiting. Felix is impatient to get back to work, muttering about Wolf and some kind of agreement. A weariness has settled into her bones. Only Emmy is alert and intent and in good cheer.
Felix returns a few minutes later, clutching three tickets. The Greatest Show on Earth.
“The show proper starts in an hour,” he says, tucking the tickets into his leather wallet. “We have time to investigate what we’re really here for.” He points to a smaller tent set up in the adjoining field. Hanging from the red canvas is a large, painted sign: But First, the Strangest Things on Earth.
Hannah steps forward. One step. Another. Ignoring the sudden cold that’s crawled over her arms and back, penetrating the thick protection of her wool coat and cashmere gloves, and even the fur muffler that Ernst gave her.
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