CHAPTER TWELVE
If any Jews remained in Mád, they were keeping a very low profile, and yet the place once teemed with Jewish life. A ruined synagogue perched on a hill near the village center attested to the fact, as did the old cemetery at the far edge of town, its weathered tombstones etched with Hebrew inscriptions. Some of these dated back to the eighteenth century, but none of the graves appeared to have been tended in a long time.
“Nobody came back? Not a single soul?” I said, unnerved by the air of desolation that hung about the site. The graves were crowded together in disorderly rows, a good many of them tilting at precarious angles or toppled over completely.
Jakub’s response was matter-of-fact. “They had nothing to come back for, najdroższa.”
It wasn’t only the Jewish sites t
