ATOP Chapter Seventeen

The bell over the door tinkled merrily as Ronnie stepped inside the general store. It must be the same bell that had always been there, he would know the sound of it anywhere. One more thing that hadn't changed. He was counting them up like treasures. Really, there wasn't a single thing about Pfyffer's General Store that had changed in the years he had been gone. It still smelled like soap and shoe polish and licorice candy; old Mr. Pfyffer still stood behind the counter, slowly tapping out charges on the ancient cash register; and Nate still rushed here and there, always in the background, stocking shelves, arranging merchandise, and somehow never getting in the way. 

"Eh, good morning..." Mr. Pfyffer hesitated, pushing his spectacles farther up his nose and peering at Ronnie through them. "Good morning, Ronnie. How's the wife and little one, eh? Gonna bring 'em up here to see me?"

"Soon," Ronnie promised. "I know this is a safe place at least."

"Safe? Why, course it's safe. Whaddya mean?"

"Took 'em to Dillinger's last Saturday and got thrown out cuz Rachel has a German accent. Wouldn't have thought this town would be full of prejudiced, racist..." he shut his mouth quickly, afraid to say something he'd regret, and grinned sheepishly at Mr. Pfyffer. 

"Mrs. Tiller, wasn't it?" the old man shook his head. "She's changed, since her son was killed over there. Sad business. Never thought she'd go so far as that, though... pitiful, that's what it is. Well, bring your Rachel here anytime, she's always welcome, you tell her that! Now, how can I help you?"

"Got a list here," Ronnie set it on the counter and glanced over the jars of candy lined up along the edge. "Anything here good for a little guy? Two years old?"

"How's about candy sticks?" Mr. Pfyffer smiled. "I'll get you a sack of those too. Even dozen?"

"Sounds good. Gotta send a telegram too..."

"Go ahead, I'll have your order ready when you get back."

Ronnie pulled the crumpled piece of paper from his pocket as he hurried down the sidewalk toward the Western-Union office, muttering the information under his breath over and over again. He had it all memorized, but he kept scanning the paper, for fear of somehow forgetting it. 

"Augustdorf, Germany, Backnang, Wuttumberg, Germany..." the paper was filled with such names, front and back. There were more, dozens more, maybe even hundreds more camps, but he was starting with Germany. And the refugee offices of course, those were first. If those all failed, then every orphanage he could possibly locate in Germany. And from there he would check Austria, and then Belgium, and even France, and well... he would just keep going until he found them. 

He shook his head and stuffed the paper back in his pocket. This was a long shot... a ridiculously long shot. And, as he was just finding out, standing at the counter of the Western-Union office, this was also going to be dreadfully expensive. 

"Start with the refugee offices," the clerk suggested as Ronnie explained his dilemma. "Just the main ones. The headquarters in Germany, Austria, Belgium, France, and England, I would say. That would be just five telegrams. Sounds to me like that would be the most logical idea."

Ronnie nodded. 

"I guess that's about all I can do right now," he shrugged as he bent over the counter to scribble the message onto a telegraph blank.

REQUESTING INFORMATION ON THE WHEREABOUTS OF SISTERS REBEKAH ADLER AGE THIRTEEN AND RISHONA ADLER AGE ELEVEN STOP LAST SEEN NEAR SOLINGEN GERMANY 1943 STOP PARENTS WERE WILLEM AND ELIZABETH ADLER OF DUSSELDORF GERMANY STOP PLEASE REPLY ASAP TO RONALD STEWART BROTHER IN LAW