Albert says, “I don’t like to see the nest like that, all covered in snow.” The poor boy has been unable to forget the stork since the day the steel door opened. Anton can only imagine what violence fills his son’s dreams—visions of red ripped through white. “What do you suppose it means for us now,” Al says, “since the stork is gone?” Paul sighs heavily, kicking his feet in the snow. He doesn’t like to talk about it, but Al persists: “Father Emil said it was the luck of our town.” “There is another stork,” Anton reminds them. “The other one still lives.” Paul blurts out an answer suddenly, as
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