(Part III of IV)

Read Part I here and Part II here!

Homolka led Katya to his well-furnished office, moving around some boxes to clear space for them to sit down.

“Would you like some tea, something to eat, perhaps?

“No, thank you,” was her response.

“How can I help, Katya?” he asked, in a voice as friendly as he could muster.

“Things have been so difficult for us since the Germans came,” she began haltingly. “As soon as they arrived, my sister and I attempted to apply for permission to leave our beloved Prague. The Germans don’t want us here even though we’ve lived here peacefully for years as loyal Czech citizens.” Tears filled her eyes as she spoke. Homolka had trouble avoiding crying himself.

“What happened when you applied?”

“The Gestapo told us we couldn’t file our application until we made ‘satisfactory arrangements’ with the Deutsche Bank and gave them full power of attorney over our property. My sister and I have a little bit of money saved in the bank and we own our apartment, but we’re not what you’d call wealthy. We have cousins in England who we might be able to live with, but Magda is not well, and”—here she broke down—“I don’t know what to do or who to turn to for help.”

Homolka placed his hand on Katya’s arm in a gesture of support. What could he do to help this poor lady? There didn’t appear to be any easy solution to the Greensteins’ problems.

“Mr. Homolka,” Katya resumed after drying her tears with her handkerchief, “if only we had someplace to hide; I mean outside of the big city. We hear the Germans are concentrating on Prague in their efforts against us Jews. Do you know of such a place where we might escape to or hide or of someone else who might assist us in getting away?”

Homolka in fact had a country home in the mountains about 60 miles from Prague toward the Hungarian border. But he hesitated to tell Katya about it. There was danger in helping Jews under current conditions.

“Unfortunately, there is little I can do to help you at this time and I know of no one else who can do so. I hope things will get better for you and your sister. Meanwhile you should make sure you make no trouble for yourself and follow all that the Germans request. I wouldn’t ‘rock the boat’ if I were you. In time things will improve.”

Homolka felt sorry for Katya and her predicament but he offered little in the way of concrete assistance. He felt somewhat ashamed that he couldn’t offer her more hope, something to lift her spirits, but after all what could he, one person, do?

“Jan,” Homolka called out as he led Katya to the front, “see to it that Mrs. Greenstein gets whatever she wants from the store at half price. This time. For old time’s sake,” he added.

Katya left the store feeling worse than she had when she entered it 20 minutes before. She felt numbed by Homolka’s remarks as she walked slowly toward her home as the sun was setting.

While Homolka had been counseling Katya in his office, another of Homolka’s most famous customers had been unable to decide which of three equally scrumptious cheesecakes to purchase.

“Ach, I simply cannot make up my mind which to choose!”

“It’s really not that difficult, doctor,” Jan replied. “Take some of each if you like.”

Jan was addressing none other than Dr. Wilhelm Fessel, renowned Prague gastroenterologist, who had made a successful medical career out of instructing his patients not to consume the rich Czech cuisine, in particular cheesecake. He railed against consuming Homolka’s delicacies as a “sure path to the grave.” Yet he himself could be said to live “for” cheesecake. He hid his addiction well from his patients, but he couldn’t keep away for Homolka’s for any length of time. Dr. Fessel loved nothing in life more than a slice of Homolka’s cherry cheesecake with a steaming mug of hot Bavarian cocoa.

“I’ll follow your advice, Jan, and take all three cakes. Wrap them well please.”

Fessel hurried out the door of the store and, realizing he was late for his office hours, sped down the street in a southerly direction, barely avoiding colliding with Katya Greenstein who had not gotten far down the street.

Read Part IV, the conclusion, of Homolka Hesitates in next week’s Jewish Link.

By Joseph Rotenberg