The Other Half of Life Read Online Free Page A

new cat in America. And a new house, and we'll go to school again. And we've already made new friends aboard the ship.” Priska smiled at Thomas. It made him uncomfortable and he looked away. Who was this girl to be so happy?
    The waiter descended again, filling wineglasses and delivering what by Thomas's count was the fourth course. “Rack of veal with potato croquettes and aspar agus in a reduction sauce,” the waiter announced through tight lips, with another hungry glance at Priska's chest.
    “I don't want a new cat. I want Alfie,” Marianne said.
    “Alfie loved Marianne best. He slept in her bed at night,” Priska explained. “Did you have lots of friends in Berlin, Thomas?”
    “Some,” he said, though for the most part it had always been the three of them—his mother, his father, and Thomas—a tight little cocoon, even before Hitler.
    “This veal is delightful. Very tender,” Professor Affeldt said, looking at his wife. “You should try it,
mein Schatz
.”To Thomas he explained that Frau Affeldt's stomach had been unsettled ever since they had left shore.
    “That's been the hardest part for me … leaving my friends,” Priska said.
    Thomas closed his eyes for a moment. If leaving her friends behind was the worst Priska had been through, then she didn't know real pain. Thomas opened his eyes and glanced at the people around them, commenting on the delicious food, raising a glass in a toast. He wanted to stand up and shout for it all to stop, this pretending everything was magically better, that they were safe. There was no such thing as safe.

    The rack of veal was followed by baked young duck. Dessert was three courses in itself: apricot compote, maraschino ice cream with vanilla cookies, and finally a plate of Swiss and herbed cheeses. Marianne ate almost every bite of all the courses. When Thomas commented on her healthy appetite, Professor Affeldt and Priska shared a look and then laughed.
    “That's our little girl,” Professor Affeldt said.
    It was the best food Thomas had eaten in his whole life. As he went back to his cabin, his stomach gluttonously full, he thought of the sparse meal his mother had likely eaten for dinner that night.
    Each level of the ship he descended, the engine's vibration increased. He used the W.C. down the hall andthen returned to the cabin. Oskar's and Elias's beds were empty. Herr Kleist was asleep, and he hadn't even bothered to draw the privacy curtain. Thomas climbed into his bunk and pulled the curtain around him. But privacy was not to be had. Below him Herr Kleist added to the vibrations with his snoring. At home Thomas had slept on a daybed in the sitting room of the small apartment. Often he would have to go to sleep in his parents' bed because they would be up late in the sitting room with friends, planning how to get the information they collected to other countries. His parents had been part of a resistance group for almost as long as Thomas could remember. But instead of distributing anti-Hitler leaflets or participating in acts of sabotage, they worked to convince other countries that not everyone in Germany believed in the Nazis and that many would welcome a revolution. Sometimes his parents would catch a few hours of sleep on the daybed; sometimes they didn't sleep at all. He missed his parents and the apartment where he'd lived his whole life terribly.
    Thomas turned to face the wall and put the pillow over his head, but he could still hear Herr Kleist droning. After a few more moments, he decided that instead of trying to force sleep, he would venture back up to the top deck. Once outside, he stood by the railing, watching the black water rustle and churn below.
    “Thomas?”
    He startled, forgetting that anyone on board even knew his name, and turned to find Priska.
    “What are you doing up here?” he asked. He had imagined her tucked happily into bed, her mother and father having kissed her good night.
    “I came to see the moon,” she