To tell the truth, nobody was that surprised when they discovered the Polish village behind the grocery store.  We’d all suspected something like this for months; that there was some community behind the Polamer Travel Agency and the Polska Deli.  It just happened to be a quaint village, pulled from the early twentieth century and planted in Eastern Pennsylvania.  When they found it, some of us went to check it out, like the Berlin Wall had just come down.  It was strange, to say the least.  There were old women in headscarves, and men riding bicycles.  The streets seemed devoid of cars.  That was the strangest part, because we’d all seen the Polish men drive from the Polska Deli to work, and it meant they must have abandoned their cars before going home. 

            The teachers and the postal employees called a town meeting.

            “I don’t think any of the children back there are enrolled in school,” the teachers said.  “They need an education, or they’re going to be stuck back there forever.”

            “They don’t even have a zip code,” the postal employees said.  “They have their own Polish town delivery system.”  This was somehow worse than the teachers’ complaint: it meant the federal government could get involved.

            They raided the Polish village early one Saturday, and I admit we watched them lead the Polish men, women, and children into government vans.  They glared at us, as though asking what they did to deserve this.