Double discrimination
When the boys noticed “the yellow stone” that “hung around” Misha’s neck, they asked what it was. “I don’t know,” he said and that answer was completely honest. The truth was that he “always had it.” Looking at his skin and dirty clothes, the boys concluded that he was “a Gipsy.” That word “sounded familiar.” He had heard that word before, around him, “in a room, near a wagon,” so he nodded. “Get him out of here,” somebody said. “We don’t need Gypsies.” “They’re dirt,” he said. The irony was that other people thought of these boys as dirt too.
The dream
“The streets were empty” and “a strange music” filled the air. That was “the siren’s wail” and “the thump of exploding shells.” Misha pulled himself up “into the streetcar.” He opened the window that “clamped Uri’s fingers.” He fell to the ground and “in a moment appeared at the door.” The boy threw his hands in the air and cried out, “Finally!” The irony was that he didn’t celebrate “the release of his fingers.” That was his chance to ride a car and “what a ride” it was. Uri forgot about the war, the misfortunes, and the dangers.
Cursed
He heard “the noise coming.” Misha’s first thought was that it was Greta, his “speckled mare.” Indeed, there was a horse, there was a horseman too, but he was riding it “not in the usual way.” The man was “tied to the horse stomach-down and backward.” His “bearded chin” bobbed “on the rump of the horse and his face went in and out of the horse’s tail.” “I’m glad I’m not a Jew,” thought Misha. The terrible irony was that he didn’t even realize that Gypsies were not treated any better.
