While We’re Far Apart

by Lynn Austin

  Jacob waited, not wanting to rush past her tears with words. He had spent too many years hurrying past tears, afraid of emotion. When the music stopped, he finally spoke, his voice hushed. “You are welcome to come back and visit any time,” he said.

  CHAPTER 35

  PENNY SET THE TWO GROCERY SACKS down on her parents’ kitchen table. “How long are you going to stay mad at me?” she asked her mother. The question had festered inside Penny as she had walked up and down the grocery aisles with her silent mother, then traipsed home from the store in the sullen June heat.

  “How long are you going to go against our wishes?” Mother’s eyes looked as cold and hard as coal.

  Penny took out a handkerchief and wiped perspiration from her forehead. “What about my own wishes?” she asked. Mother grunted in reply, her lips pressed together in a tight line. Penny hated the boulder of ice that stood between them but didn’t know how to melt it.

  “There is no reason in the world why you can’t quit all this nonsense and come home,” Mother said. “Those children are with their grandmother all day now that school is out. They can just as easily spend the night, too. It’s time to stop all this traipsing back and forth. Time to get rid of those hideous, unladylike trousers and start acting like our daughter again.”

  Penny looked down at her uniform and sighed. She hadn’t changed her clothes after her shift at the bus station, in a hurry to take her mother on this errand. Besides, all of her clothes were at Eddie’s apartment. She started to defend herself, then stopped. It was useless to argue with her parents, and even more useless to hold a grudge against them for not telling her she was adopted. Grudges did no one any good. The past could never be changed.

  None of them had mentioned the argument they’d had a month ago or the fact that Penny’s parents were really her grandparents. She still called them Mother and Dad. But Penny knew that she was not the same person, the same daughter, who had left home to take care of Eddie’s children last fall.

  “Is there anything else I can help you with before the kids and I go home?”

  “Oh, so that apartment is your home now? Not here with us?”

  “It’s the children’s home. I’m sure you can see that their grandmother’s house isn’t a proper home for them.”

  Mother turned away without replying. Penny wished she knew how to make things right between them so they could talk to each other without fighting. She wished that, just once, her mother would look at her with love in her eyes instead of disappointment and stern disapproval. She had wished for it all of her life, carrying the longing like a burden that grew heavier each year. But wishes seldom came true.

  Penny finished emptying the grocery bags, putting the cans away in the cupboard and storing the eggs in the refrigerator. How had they come to this terrible impasse? She paused to gaze out the kitchen window, and as she watched Peter romping around the yard with Woofer, Penny remembered how it had started. She had fallen in love with Eddie Shaffer and had leaped at the chance to become part of his life. It had started with the hope that he would love her, too, and maybe marry her someday. But that seed of hope had grown out of control into a sprawling, tangled vine, uprooting secrets and changing her life completely. So much upheaval – and in the end, Eddie probably wouldn’t marry her after all. Mr. Mendel had said that the crime her real father had committed wasn’t her fault, but even if Eddie did fall in love with her after the war, he deserved to know the truth about her.

  Penny finished stowing the groceries. She wanted to go home. Yes, she did think of the apartment as her home now. Maybe there would be a letter from Eddie or Roy today. Roy’s letters always made her smile as he described his clumsy attempts to express his love to Sally. He still counted on Penny for advice, even though his love life was already much more successful than Penny’s was. She wrote to both men nearly every day, trying to boost their morale by reminding them of the life they would return to one day. Meanwhile, Penny’s life had fallen into an enjoyable routine after ten months – but it would all turn upside down again when the war ended. And the war would end soon. The news from Europe was good. The Allies were making progress.

  “If there’s nothing else you need help with,” Penny told her mother, “I guess I’ll take the kids home.”

  “Your father might need something. He can’t get around like he used to, you know. There are a lot of things he can’t do anymore.”

  “I’ll ask him.” Penny could see how much her parents had aged in the past year, and her guilt mushroomed every time they reminded her of it. But had they really imagined that she would stay here and live with them forever?

  She found her father napping in his chair in the living room. The cigar he held between his fingers had burned out. She hesitated, wondering if she should wake him, and as she looked around the room for a chore that might need to be done, she saw her parents’ address book lying open on top of the desk. The book would have her sister Hazel’s address in it.

  Penny tiptoed to the desk and picked it up. She couldn’t remember Hazel’s married name, so she started leafing through all of the pages, searching for Hazel. All the while, she watched the kitchen door for her mother and stole glances at her father to make sure he stayed asleep.

  Halfway through the names she found it: Hazel and Barry Jeffries. They lived in Trenton, New Jersey, not even a hundred miles away. But it may as well be a thousand miles as far as her parents were concerned. Penny tore off a slip of paper and quickly copied down the address, then put the book back where she’d found it. Now all she had to do was summon the courage to go to New Jersey and talk to her sister – her mother.

  Penny’s father stirred in his sleep and opened his eyes. “Dad? I’m leaving in a minute,” she told him. “Is there anything you want me to do before I go?”

  He shifted and sat up straight. “Can’t think of anything.”

  Penny started to leave, then had another thought. “Say, Dad – Peter wants to plant a victory garden next door.”

  “Who does?”

  “Peter Shaffer, the little boy I’m taking care of. I know how much you enjoy looking after your tomatoes and rhubarb plants every summer – do you think you could help him with it?”

  Her father studied his dead cigar, frowning before placing it in the ashtray. “I can barely manage my own garden anymore. Wasn’t sure I’d even have one this year.”

  “I know. But you wouldn’t have to do any work. Just look over Peter’s shoulder once in a while and encourage him. Maybe give him a few pointers.”

  “What does he want to grow?”

  “Some tomatoes and beans and things. He started the seedlings at school, and the teacher gave the kids a little booklet that tells all about growing a victory garden. He’s been keeping the plants in his bedroom, but shouldn’t they go into the ground soon?”

  “Of course. It’s June already.”

  “Could you help us pick a good spot on Mrs. Shaffer’s side of the yard to plant them? The kids and I will do all the digging. The backyard at our apartment is so shady I don’t think anything can grow there, even grass. The ground is as hard as cement.”

  “I suppose I could have a look. But he’ll have to tell me what he wants to grow.”

  “Thanks, Dad. We’ll start bringing the plants over here tomorrow. It’ll give Peter something to do all summer.” It would give her father something to do, as well. And maybe if he made friends with Peter and Esther, he would begin to understand why she had volunteered to take care of them in the first place, and why they needed her so badly.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Penny went out to the kitchen to get her pocketbook, and was about to tell her mother good-bye when someone pounded on the front door, ringing the bell like a five-alarm fire. She ran through the living room to open it and found Esther on the doorstep, crying and wringing her hands.

  “Penny! Penny, come quick! You gotta help us!”

  “What’s wrong? Is somebody hurt?” Penn
y’s heart raced out of control, as it always did when she was reminded of her heavy responsibility for these children.

  “Woofer got out of the house and she ran away! Hurry, we have to catch her!” Esther jogged in place as if ready to take off running. Penny dropped her purse on the floor and hurried after her.

  “What happened? How did she get out of the yard?”

  “Peter held the front door open too long and she ran out between his legs. You know how Grandma is always hollering at us to shut the door so the dog won’t get out and now . . . now she’s furious with Peter!”

  Woofer was nowhere in sight when Penny reached the street. Grandma Shaffer stood on her front step, calling to the dog in a tremulous voice. Peter stood watching helplessly, unable to call to the dog he loved. Penny ran to him and pulled him into her arms.

  “It’s okay, Peter. It’s going to be okay. We’ll find her. Do you know which way she went?” He pointed in the direction of the bus stop and the busy boulevard. Penny’s heart sank with dread. “Come on,” she said. She took off jogging up the street, with Esther and Peter right behind her, calling the dog’s name, whistling for her.

  “Woofer has never been out of the backyard before, except on a leash.” Esther said, breathing hard. “What if she gets hit by a car?”

  “Don’t talk like that, Esther. We’ll find her. She can’t be far.” They ran until they were out of breath, then walked up and down the streets, around and around the block, calling Woofer’s name, asking neighbors and passersby if they had seen her. No one had.

  An hour passed and the sun moved lower in the sky. Suppertime had come and gone. All three of them were hungry and exhausted. “We need to go home,” Penny said.

  “You’re giving up? We can’t give up!”

  “I’m not giving up, Esther, but it’ll soon be too dark to see. We’ll need to come back with flashlights. Besides, we need to eat something. Woofer must be getting hungry, too. Maybe she’ll come home for dinner on her own.”

  Penny rounded the corner toward home and saw Grandma Shaffer still standing on the front step, calling Woofer’s name. When she saw the three of them dragging home without the dog, she went inside to her bedroom and shut the door, inconsolable. Penny opened a can of soup and made sandwiches, but no one felt much like eating. Peter got his grandmother’s flashlight from the kitchen drawer and stood by the door with it, waiting to resume the search. They combed the neighborhood for another hour with no luck.

  “We need to head home,” Penny finally told them.

  “No, I want to stay at Grandma’s house tonight,” Esther said, “so we can search some more in the morning.” Peter nodded in agreement.

  “Well . . . I guess we could do that.” Penny would have to sleep in her old bedroom at her parents’ house. She wondered if she would be welcome. She could wear the same uniform tomorrow, and maybe there would be time to resume the search before work. “Let’s leave the porch lights on all night and the back gate open in case Woofer decides to come home during the night.”

  “She’s never been outside all night before,” Esther said. “She’ll be so scared. What if she gets hit by a car or somebody kidnaps her?”

  Penny didn’t reply. What could she say? She couldn’t reassure them that everything would be okay. Peter looked so dejected and guilt-ridden that all Penny could do was hold him in her arms and let him cry. “It isn’t your fault, Peter. Woofer is the one who decided to be a bad dog and run away. She could have escaped when any one of us opened the door, even your grandmother.”

  “Can we pray for Woofer to be safe?” Esther asked. “Is it okay to pray for a dog?”

  Once again, Penny didn’t know the answer. She said good-night to everyone and went next door to sleep at her parents’ house. As she lay in her old bed, staring at the ceiling, she wished she could do something more – but what? She didn’t have the good sense that God gave a green bean.

  CHAPTER 36

  Budapest, Hungary

  Dear Mother and Father Mendel,

  The thing we have long feared has finally happened. The Nazis have come for us.

  They surrounded our ghetto shortly before dawn, hundreds of soldiers with guns and dogs. They awakened us with gunfire and loudspeakers, shouting, “All out! All out! Anyone who does not come out will be shot.” They gave us only moments to pack a few of our things before herding us outside into the street. Mama and Fredeleh and I quickly did as we were told. We had been sound asleep only moments before, so we could barely think, let alone decide what we might need or what we should take with us.

  When we got outside we heard screaming and gunshots and weeping as the Nazis went from house to house, searching. They shot anyone who tried to hide. All of the elderly people and those who were too sick to get out of bed were killed on the spot.

  We stood huddled in the courtyard while all of this went on, shivering with fear. As the sky slowly grew light, I could hardly bear to look into our neighbors’ faces. We all knew what was coming next. We have all heard enough stories by now to suspect that the rumors are true.

  When everyone in the ghetto had been evacuated or killed, the Nazis marched us through the streets as fast as we could go, shouting at us to hurry, hurry! They didn’t take us to Budapest’s train station, but to the freight yard on the edge of town. There we saw a long line of empty boxcars standing with their doors open. The soldiers pointed guns at us and herded us inside the freight cars like animals.

  All I could think of was that I should have done what Avi said. I should have saved Fredeleh a long time ago while I still had the chance. I couldn’t stop weeping, from regret as much as from fear, as I prayed to Hashem and pleaded with Him for help.

  Hundreds of us were stuffed into a single train car – the few men who were left and all the women together with no privacy. There was not even enough room for everyone to sit down. We were given one bucket with drinking water and another empty bucket for necessity. When there were so many of us jammed inside that we could barely breathe, they rolled the door closed and locked it. All around me, people were weeping, cursing, praying. Some lost their minds with fear. I huddled close to Mama, clutching Fredeleh in my arms, praying for a miracle – and for forgiveness. How could Avraham ever forgive me for not taking Fredeleh to safety at the Christian orphanage?

  Mama did her best to soothe me, trying to keep me calm for Fredeleh’s sake. “I love you, Sarah Rivkah,” she said as she held me close. “You have been a wonderful daughter to me. I want you to know, no matter what happens, how much I love you and Fredeleh.”

  “Please don’t talk like that, Mama. We’ll be okay. They’re just taking us to a work camp.”

  “I know. I know.”

  But we both knew the truth.

  The train stood on the side rail with the doors sealed shut for a very long time. The summer sun grew hot, the boxcar stifling. The train still had not begun to move when we heard a commotion outside. The people who were close to the door and were able to see between the wooden slats told us that a big black car had pulled up outside. It was the kind that important officials drove and had blue and yellow flags flying from it. Swedish flags, someone said.

  While the German authorities spoke to the man in the car, a group of men began moving along the tracks behind the line of railcars, stuffing papers between the wooden slats to those of us inside. My mother managed to grab one of them. We stared at it, not sure what it was, before deciding that it was some sort of identification paper. It bore the blue and yellow colors of the Swedish flag, and an insignia with three crowns on it, along with a lot of important-looking stamps and seals.

  “The German soldiers are coming back to the railcars,” those nearest the door informed us. We could hear the doors to the other boxcars up the line from ours sliding open. A few minutes later, our door rolled open, too. Fresh air and blinding sunlight poured inside.

  One of the soldiers called out to us: “If there are any Swedish nationals on board, come out and show
your papers.” People began pushing toward the open door, jumping down from the cars, waving the papers that had just been passed to us. But we had only one paper for the three of us. Mama pushed it into my hands.

  “Take it, Sarah Rivkah. You and Fredeleh, go! Hurry!”

  “No. I won’t leave you, Mama.”

  “You need to save yourself and Fredeleh. Go!” I clung to my mother, unwilling to leave her behind, but Mama shoved me as hard as she could toward the door. Fredeleh clung to me, screaming in all the confusion.

  I wanted to save my daughter. I would do anything for her. And I knew that Mama wanted the same thing for me. But how could I leave my mother behind in a car meant for animals – to go who knows where?

  I felt hands pushing me. I looked over my shoulder, but Mama wasn’t there. She had disappeared in the overcrowded car, shrinking back among the others so I could no longer see her. I knew she wanted to make it easier for me, and also that she didn’t want to watch Fredeleh and me leave. The other people in the car continued to push me forward, saying, “Hurry, girl! Go! You have a paper.”

  Just as I was about to step off the train with Fredeleh, a young mother pushed her way to the open door and shoved her baby toward me. Terror filled her eyes. “Take him, please,” she begged. “Have mercy and take my child so he will live!” I saw her desperation and her love. “His name is Yankel Weisner. He is four months old. I am Dina Weisner, his mother.”

  The baby and his mother were both crying. I was, too. I shifted Fredeleh to my hip and propped the baby against my shoulder. His mother gave him one last kiss.

  My legs felt so weak I could barely walk as I stepped off the train. I went forward, clutching the two children, and showed the German soldier my paper. My heart pounded with fear. Would he believe me?