While We’re Far Apart

by Lynn Austin

  “Talk about a rotten day.”

  “It’s going to get worse. I still have to tell Esther and Peter about their uncle.”

  “Do you want me to come with you to tell the kids?”

  “I couldn’t ask that of you. You’ve worked hard all day.”

  “I don’t mind. I like Esther and Peter. And you’re my friend. I’d be happy to help you out. This will be a tough job to do alone.”

  “Well . . . I could really use your help . . . if you don’t mind.”

  He got off the bus with Penny and they headed toward the apartment. “I’ve known Eddie’s family all of my life,” she said as they walked. “I lived next door to them, grew up with them. Joey Shaffer is only a few years older than I am. It’s such a tragedy. How do you get through something like this?”

  “One day at a time. And make no mistake, it’s going to be really hard at first. Each time you celebrate a holiday or a birthday, there’s an empty place at the table. For the first year or so, you think you’ll never be happy again, that you shouldn’t be happy. But little by little, the grief starts to ease and you can remember all the good times you had together and not feel quite so sad. You have to take it day by day. That’s all you can do.”

  “You sound like you know firsthand.”

  “My mother died when I was fifteen.”

  “Oh, Roy. No wonder you’re so good with Peter and Esther. Do they know?”

  “I told Peter about my mother. I told him that I understood how he felt. And I do.”

  “We’ve been friends all this time, and I’ve never asked you about your family or what you did for a living before the war. Where did you work?”

  “I taught history at the high school in Moosic. Sally was a senior the first year I taught there. I could see that she had a crush on me, but I never let on that I noticed, never treated her any differently. Even after she graduated I probably never would have gotten up the nerve to ask her out if we hadn’t met at a picnic at a friend’s house and hit it off.”

  “Wow. So do you think you’ll teach again after the war?”

  “I would like to. I enjoyed my job. My parents were both teachers. My dad is the principal of the elementary school now.”

  They reached the front porch of the apartment building. Penny took a deep breath. “You’re so good at distracting me from my fears. Thanks for doing this, Roy.”

  “No problem. You know it might be best if you just tell them the news right away. Don’t drag it out. They’ll know from your expression that something is different.”

  “I knew as soon as I saw my father in the bus station that something was wrong. It took him forever to tell me. I was terrified that it was Eddie who had died.” She took another breath and exhaled. “They’re probably in Mr. Mendel’s apartment.”

  “Why don’t you tell them while they’re with him, so he can help out? I know they think the world of him.”

  “You’re right. Maybe he can help answer their questions. He’s a very wise man.” She knocked on his door and waited for him to open it.

  “Good evening, Penny.”

  “Hi, Mr. Mendel. This is a friend of mine, Roy Fuller. Are the kids here?”

  “Yes. They are doing homework in the kitchen. Would you like to come in?”

  “Thank you.” He led the way to his kitchen, and Penny saw Esther’s surprise when she looked up and saw that Roy was with her.

  “Hey, it’s Roy! What are you doing here?”

  “There’s something we need to tell you,” he said, “and it isn’t about your father, so don’t worry. He’s fine.” But the look of dread in the children’s eyes nearly broke Penny’s heart.

  “Your grandmother received a telegram today,” she said. “Your Uncle Joe has been killed over in Italy.”

  Peter folded his arms on the table and lowered his head onto them. Roy went to his side to comfort him.

  Esther sprang to her feet. “See?” she shouted. “I told you that praying didn’t do any good! I told you! We’ve prayed and prayed and asked God to keep everyone safe and He didn’t listen! He didn’t do it!” Her hands balled into fists, and she looked as if she wanted to punch someone. She pushed past Penny as she tried to run from the kitchen, but Mr. Mendel stopped her before she could get very far.

  “Just a minute, Esther. Slow down and listen to me. How can Hashem answer such a prayer in the middle of a war? We are the ones who started this war, not Him. People are not puppets that Hashem controls, making us do whatever He wants. Nor can He be manipulated to do whatever we ask of Him. Human beings chose to start this war, and that means we are responsible for putting the people we love in danger, not Him. But Hashem can bring good from this, even if we cannot see it.”

  “How? How can there be any good from this? Uncle Joe is dead!”

  “Your uncle was in Italy, right?” Roy asked. “Think of the people in that country who had no freedom, living under the thumb of that crazy man, Mussolini. Thanks to your uncle, they’re free again.”

  Penny listened to Roy and Mr. Mendel as they offered comfort and was grateful for their help. Both men had been strangers a few months ago, but now she realized how rich she was for knowing them. She thought of how much she would have missed if she had stayed sheltered in her parents’ duplex, living with the same fears and prejudices that they did. Penny knew she could no longer go back and live there with them again when the war ended.

  An hour later, the conversation ended. Roy sighed. “I have to go, Penny.” She walked out to the front porch with him. “Listen, I’d hoped I would have a chance to say good-bye to Esther and Peter before I went overseas,” he said, “but under the circumstances, I don’t think it’s a good idea to tell them I’m leaving. At least not today.”

  “You’re right. They would be as sad to see you go as I am.”

  She gazed at the synagogue across the street, remembering how it had looked the first time she saw it the morning after the fire. Now the tan brick building was almost fully restored. She saw signs of life all around her on this balmy spring evening: emerging leaves and new green grass and dandelions the color of school buses. Yet all Penny could think about were death and change. She wondered if the police still thought Mr. Mendel had started the fire. F ive months had passed since he’d last mentioned it, and he’d been so worried at the time. What in the world would the kids do – what would she do – if they lost their friend Mr. Mendel, too?

  “The trouble with getting close to people,” she told Roy, “is that it makes it so much harder when you have to say good-bye to them.”

  “Can I ask you something, Penny? You can say no if you want to and I won’t feel bad – but would you mind sending me a letter every now and then when I’m overseas? I know I made a fuss when Sally told me she was writing to other soldiers, but I understand it now. So if you want to . . . and if your boyfriend doesn’t mind . . . I’d really like to hear how you and the kids are doing. I would hate to lose touch with you after all this time.”

  “I would be happy to write to you. I’ll be thinking about you all the time, anyway. I hope you’ll write back once in a while when you’re not too busy fighting the Japanese, and let me know that you’re okay.”

  “You bet I will.”

  “And I hope I get an invitation to your wedding when you marry Sally after the war.”

  “I guarantee it. And I want to be there when you marry Eddie, too.”

  “We’re a long way from getting married, Roy. At least you and Sally are engaged.” Penny wrote her address on a scrap of paper from her purse and handed it to him. “Here’s my address. Make sure you send me yours as soon as you know it so I can write back.”

  “I will. Thanks, Penny.” He folded it and placed it in his shirt pocket. “You’ve been a great friend. I hope I see you again before I leave, but who knows?”

  Tears filled Penny’s eyes. They moved toward each other at the same time, clinging to each other as they hugged. She was tired of saying good-bye to people she
cared about, tired of watching them leave. Would this war never end?

  “Take care of yourself, soldier.”

  “You too.”

  He released her, and she watched him until he was out of sight. Penny didn’t think that her heart could contain any more grief, but here was another load of it. On top of Joey Shaffer’s death, losing her friend Roy was a hard blow. She would worry about him.

  When she took the children to their grandmother’s house the next day, it seemed as though she should see Roy sitting in his usual seat behind the driver. But the spot where he always sat was empty.

  An assortment of cars was parked in front of the duplex when they arrived. Penny could see through the front window that the house was filled with people. How did they fit inside with all that clutter? “You two kids go on in,” she told them. “I’ll come back for you in an hour or so.”

  Esther gripped Penny’s sleeve in panic. “Wait! Aren’t you coming in?”

  “I don’t think there’s room inside for one more person. Besides, I don’t want to intrude. I’m just a neighbor, not part of your family.” She felt embarrassed when she remembered how she used to hang around uninvited, making a nuisance of herself as Mother used to say, just to get a glimpse of Eddie.

  “But Peter and I don’t know what to do or what to say.”

  “Just give your grandmother a big hug. Sit beside her. That will be comfort enough. You don’t have to say anything. And maybe this will give you a chance to meet some of your other relatives, right? Isn’t that what you wanted?”

  “But everyone will be so sad. Like they were when Mama died.”

  “I know. It’s hard. But you’ll both be fine. Make your daddy proud.” Penny squeezed Esther’s shoulder and stroked Peter’s hair. Then she left and went next door to see her parents.

  “Hi, it’s me. I’m home,” she called as she came in through the back door.

  She had dreaded this moment ever since she had walked her father home yesterday. She knew they would still be furious with her. Her parents held on to grudges as if they were nuggets of gold. She felt the strength of their anger the moment she walked into the living room. Neither of them greeted her or even looked up at her. Father’s raised newspaper shielded his face. Mother never took her eyes off the hat she was knitting to send to the soldiers overseas, her needles poking and stabbing furiously at the yarn. Penny walked over to the blaring radio and turned it down so they could talk.

  “You have a lot of nerve coming in here as if you’ve done nothing wrong,” her father said from behind his newspaper.

  Penny couldn’t reply. Didn’t he understand that there was genuine hardship in this world? That families were being torn apart by greater tragedies than this? How could their hurt and anger compare with the terrible grief of their neighbors next door?

  “The children are with their grandmother,” Penny said quietly. “Are you going to talk to me or do you want me to leave?”

  “I want to know why you’ve been sneaking around behind our backs,” Mother said, needles clacking. “Why did you try to hide what you’re doing from us?”

  “Because you always worry about me. I didn’t want you to have even more to worry about.”

  “Why shouldn’t we be worried?” Her father’s newspaper rustled as he lowered it and folded it. “Driving a public bus through the streets of Brooklyn? Are you out of your mind?”

  “It turns out I’m a very good driver. The instructor said I was the best driver in my class.”

  “Don’t take that tone of voice with me! I know a thing or two about how dangerous those streets are!”

  Mother gave up trying to knit and stuffed the balled-up project into her knitting bag. “Why would you expose yourself to so many strangers that way?”

  “I’m getting to know some of the people on my route. I ask how they’re doing, tell them I hope they have a nice day . . . It’s so much better than sitting in a cramped ticket booth all day.” Or sitting in this dreary house, she wanted to add, cut off from people, from life. “Besides, I make more money now than I did with the other job.”

  Her father shook his head. She could tell he wasn’t listening. “You’re so naive. You never did have a lick of common sense. You don’t know the dangers in this world and what could happen to a girl like you.”

  “Nothing is going to happen.” But as soon as Penny spoke the words she knew they weren’t true. Things did happen, whether you were careful or not. Rachel Shaffer and Miriam Mendel had been killed by a runaway car. Joey Shaffer lay dead on a battlefield in Italy. But living captive to worry and fear meant not living at all.

  “I should have known you were up to no good when you started dressing like a floozy,” Mother said. “I should have made you come back home right then and there.”

  “Mother, listen – ”

  “We’ve been so careful with you all your life, trying to keep you safe – and then you go and do something like this behind our back. Lying to us!”

  “I didn’t lie. Tell me how I lied?”

  “You’re going to go straight to your boss on Monday morning,” Father said, “and tell him that you’re quitting. And then you’re going to pack your belongings and move out of that Jewish man’s apartment. It’s time you came back home where you belong.”

  “I can’t leave the children now. How can Mrs. Shaffer possibly take care of them? You saw how much grief she’s suffering, didn’t you?”

  “I also saw that she has other relatives – sisters and brothers and cousins,” Mother said. “I called some of them for her, remember? We’re ordering you to quit, Penny – the apartment and the job.”

  Penny’s own anger swelled dangerously out of control. Her parents treated her like an ignorant child who needed to be protected. Until Eddie had enlisted and had needed her help, she had believed them. Now she had proven them wrong. She had learned how to drive a bus. She was the best driver in the class. She knew how to run a household on her own and take care of two children. She had made a life for herself with new friends, like Roy and Mr. Mendel.

  “I’m not quitting and I’m not coming home,” she said. Her voice shook as she stood up to them for the first time. “I’m not a child anymore. You can’t tell me what to do.”

  Her mother couldn’t speak, as if shocked that Penny would defy her this way. Her father wagged his finger at her. “Someone has had a very bad influence on you, and I want to know who it is. We didn’t raise you to lie to us and deceive us.”

  His accusation was the last straw. “No?” Penny shouted. “No? Then why have you been lying to me all my life?”

  “What are you talking about?” her father said. “How dare you speak to us that way?”

  “I know that I’m adopted.”

  It was as though a bomb had gone off in the apartment, leaving her parents stunned. They stared at Penny, eyes wide with shock.

  “I needed my birth certificate to apply for my new job, remember? And when you wouldn’t give it to me I went out and ordered a new one.” Her father’s face turned so red she feared he might have a stroke, but Penny was too angry to stop. “I found out that you aren’t my parents at all. You adopted me. You’ve been lying to me all this time. Why didn’t you tell me the truth?”

  “We did it for your own good,” her mother said.

  “My own good? I don’t understand why you ever adopted me in the first place. All my life, you’ve acted as if I’m a huge inconvenience to you, like I have no common sense. You’re always telling me that I’m dumber than everyone else is. Why did you adopt me if you didn’t want me?”

  “You want to know why?” her father asked. His face resembled simmering coals that were about to burst into flames. “I’ll tell you why.”

  “Albert, no! Be quiet!”

  “She needs to know, Gwendolyn. She needs to hear the truth before she turns out to be just like her. This is how it all started with Penny’s mother, too. Remember?”

  “Albert! Shut up!”


  “First, Hazel started lying to us, telling us she was going one place when she was really going someplace else. And that’s exactly what Penny is doing – telling us she works at the bus station when she doesn’t work there at all. Running all over Brooklyn with no thought to the danger she’s in. You want the same thing to happen to Penny that happened to Hazel? You want to go through this all over again?”

  “Stop it, Albert!”

  “Like mother like daughter! That’s just how she’s turning out!”

  Penny groped for a chair as she realized what her father was saying. She had been standing all this time, but now she had to sit down, too stunned to remain on her feet. “Hazel is my mother, isn’t she?” she murmured. Her sister was really her mother. Everything made sense now. Why hadn’t she seen the truth before?

  Mother began to weep. “See what you’ve done, Albert?”

  “How else was I supposed to keep her safe at home where she belongs? You want her to end up getting raped like your other daughter?”

  Penny stopped breathing. Raped? Her sister had been raped ? No wonder Hazel hadn’t wanted her. Penny was a reminder of an unthinkable act. No wonder her parents had always been so protective of her, so fearful of strangers.

  Penny couldn’t take it in – didn’t want to take it in. Her real father was a rapist ? Mother had always said that she wasn’t like other girls and now she knew why. Her father was a criminal. A rapist.

  “You’ve had a good life here with us up until now,” her father said. “Why couldn’t you leave well enough alone?”

  Penny wished that she had. Everything that she had believed about herself had been wrong. She had been conceived from an act of violence. Even if Eddie did fall in love with her, she didn’t deserve a good man like him. She couldn’t be a good mother to his children. Not with a criminal’s blood flowing through her veins. Not with a rapist for a father.

  Without saying another word, Penny stood and walked out of the house.

  CHAPTER 32