Influence of a King

CHAPTER 1

Chapter One

Liverpool, England

1929

Chad Eichenwald raced home, excited about his prospects. He had just turned ten, and there was this sense of freedom and accomplish- ment that comes with recognizing that one's age was now registered in two digits.

As his bicycle made that sharp curve around the synagogue, he yelped in excitement. He pedaled on, his legs strong despite the exertion. With his chest heaving and eyes intent on the ascent, he was excited at the thrill he would experience when racing down the hill. He pushed his way up . . . up, straining but loving every moment of it. When he reached the peak, he screamed at the top of his voice. He took his legs off the pedals as gravity sent the bicycle hurtling down the hill.

Unlike his cousins who fought against windswept hair, his dark wavy curls were like windbreaks, diverting the wind but embracing the dust.

Exhilarated, Chad took his hands off the handlebars and stretched them wide to elevate the thrill. His shirt stretched taut to emphasize his youthful form, and his open mouth gulped in the wind. Oh, how he longed for the day he would become a man. Then he would roam the world freely, climb over mountain heights, swim across great oceans, and who knows—conquer new frontiers!

The Eichenwald Estate gates were thrown wide open to let him enter.

"Afternoon, Gamaliel!" Chad greeted the gatekeeper at the security post as he sped past.

"Afternoon, boy," the gatekeeper returned his greeting.

Chad observed that the streets were quite calm. He looked up at

the sun as if willing it to tell him the time. Beyond a shadow of a doubt,

he was certain that the mincha prayers had started. He pedaled faster,

hoping to arrive home in good time.

He relaxed when his home came into view.

The white picket fence was welcoming and joyfully stood in con-

trast to the other grey, stone-walled fences in the neighborhood. Their

house of mortar-bound, blue-marble slabs boasted an exaggerated low

roof and frescoed window frames, encasing stained-glass windows.

The glaring disparity from the other houses of rubble-brown bricks

was exceptional.

Chad saw his parents standing on the porch, obviously waiting for

him. They, more than anything, represented the disparity of the neigh-

borhood and specifically the prominent Eichenwald family.

His mother, Abigail, was the first and only daughter of Sir Aaron

Eichenwald. She had three brothers—one older and two younger.

Years ago, when the matriarch of the family died, Abigail stepped in as

mother and rallying point for their closely knit Jewish family. Though

a woman of beauty and a sharp mind, few could match her fiery tem-

perament; her red hair gave the advance warning. She loved her family

fiercely, but none more than her husband.