The words hit me like a ton of bricks. ㉠Dazed, I walked back to the horse and wagon. My father was so quiet. I didn't know what to think at the time. Why was I ㉡turned away? Maybe it was because I was Jewish. Maybe it was because I was ( ⓐ ) the other side of the tracks. Painted ( ⓑ ) large letters on the side of my father's wagon were the words "W. ROSS, JUNK DEALER." ㉢On the ride home, I asked my father, with tears in my eyes, "Why didn't he let me in the door?" I didn't get any answers from him. The horse's hooves were hitting the street like hammers ( ⓒ ) my soul.