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Turned Away

Page 2

by Carol Matas


  I told her about Sarah. Her response? “No doubt it’s just a matter of time before Hitler finishes off everyone who’s against him.”

  Honestly, by the time Mommy picked me up, I was wishing I had a friend who was not either all happy like Elizabeth or all sad like Marcie. I told that to Mommy, and she said that she and Daddy often used to say that about Adam and Morris — if only Adam could give Morris a little of his reckless spirit and Morris could give Adam a little of his caution. But it doesn’t work that way.

  Did I mention that I’ve finished N or M? and I’m now reading The Man in the Brown Suit, also by Agatha Christie? It’s very exciting. Mommy has no idea I am reading it. There are some very racy parts, but I took it out of the library and told the librarian it was for Mommy. I read it at night when I’m supposed to be sleeping. There is quite a bit of passionate kissing and even talk of how Anne cannot stay too long with her amour or he might forget himself! I’m pretty sure I know what that means, but not completely sure, and there is no one to ask without admitting that I’m reading it.

  I said this would be a short entry and now I’ve rambled on and I do want to finish the book tonight. So, more tomorrow!

  December 11

  The U.S. has now declared war on Germany and Italy. And the paper says that the Hong Kong troops have beat back the Japanese. Two boatloads of Japanese were sunk. That must be a good thing.

  Chanukah will be here soon. Usually it’s all I dwell on for weeks ahead, but this year I hardly wanted to think about it. Without Adam and Morris here what fun will it be? But there was a party at the synagogue so we all went. I ate latkes and chocolate Chanukah gelt and played lots of games — mostly different dreidel games. Many of my friends from Aberdeen School were there, including Marcie. We were so excited to see each other and the girls loved my dress — a purple velvet dress I was sent from our cousins in New York. (By the way, Mommy says that there were two air-raid warnings in N.Y. the other day. Wonder if that will happen here anytime soon?) But back to the dress — there were even white stockings to go with it. Mommy put my hair up in a curly mass and I could see Mordechai looking at me with a nice look that said he thought I was not too bad! I never see him now we’ve moved but I think he still has a crush on me.

  Hester was there too, and as usual she couldn’t stop talking, about how wonderful everything in the south end is, so much better than the north end, so much fancier, better schools, better shops, better everything. Naturally that didn’t go over too well with my Aberdeen friends. I don’t want them to think I’m a snob just because she is! They were glaring away at her as she was talking but she didn’t seem to notice.

  When we got home Mommy and Daddy gave me a brand new pair of skates for a present! They are so beautiful. White as snow.

  I feel a little sick. I’ve eaten way too many latkes.

  December 12

  I had completely forgotten that I had promised to have three squares knitted by today. Last night, after the party and after I’d written in my diary I suddenly remembered. I knitted till my fingers were ready to fall off. I did get the three squares done, even though I was plenty bleary-eyed this morning! My class now has enough to make an entire quilt. Mrs. Davis is very proud of us. She had us sing “Rule Britannia” after “God Save the King,” and then told us that we were a ripping good crowd! And then we all did three “hip hip hoorahs.” I love having a British teacher. Her accent, for one thing. It’s so, well, sophisticated. Even when she says the most ordinary thing it sounds smart coming from her. And she says we must have a “never say die” attitude. Very much like Elizabeth.

  Oh, and I must report that Hedda Hopper has had very little of interest to report in her column recently. I was hoping for some juicy gossip to take my mind off things, but it is just a bunch of boring news. Spencer Tracy has passed up a Broadway show to do another movie. That’s hardly earth-shaking.

  Before I go to sleep I always pray to God to keep everyone safe. I start with Dear God, please keep … and then I list all the names, just the way Mommy taught me. The last few nights I’ve put in a special prayer for Morris and Isaac. I hope God listens, but I have my doubts.

  Later

  Just as I’d finished writing, Daddy came to tuck me in. So I asked him if he thought God listened to our prayers.

  “Uh, oh!” he said. “Another big question. I can tell by the tone of your voice.”

  “I’m praying for Morris and Isaac,” I explained. “But why should God choose Morris to save over someone else? Wouldn’t that be mean?”

  “Morris is better than anyone else,” Daddy said.

  “Well, you know that and I know that but I’ll bet all families feel that way,” I answered.

  “Of course they do,” Daddy agreed. “I was trying to make a little joke.” He paused and thought for a moment. “You know that quilt you are making at school? Each child makes a square, correct?”

  “Yes,” I said.

  “And none of you knows what the other squares will look like. Perhaps that is the way God works. We are each like one of the squares. We choose how our own square will look, we choose the colour, the design, all of that. But when we are put in with the other squares we might be in the middle, at the edge, make the whole look one way or another … And it’s when we interact with all the other squares that the unexpected can happen. And it can change the way our square is viewed.” I must have looked puzzled. “It’s a mixture of our choices and God’s choices. And it all makes a pattern, but only God can see the big pattern.” He patted my hand. “I can’t give you a simple answer, Devvy. Life is complicated and so is God, I think.”

  “So we can’t be sure, can we,” I said, “that Morris will be all right just because he’s good. Because good people die, don’t they?”

  “Good people are dying every day,” Daddy sighed. “Everyone who fights Hitler is a good person dying.”

  I started to cry. “It isn’t fair.”

  Daddy hugged me. “It’s life,” he said. And I think he cried a little too, although he didn’t want me to see.

  “Now,” he said, “I have a new joke.”

  Daddy has a theory that when people are laughing they don’t feel pain as much, so he always tells jokes as he drills their teeth. Here’s how this one goes:

  “Your tooth is abscessed,” the dentist said to Mr. Jones. “I’m afraid I’ll have to pull it.”

  “H–how much will it cost?”

  “One hundred dollars. But no choice, it must come out.”

  “A hundred dollars? That seems like an awful lot for two minutes of work.”

  The dentist shrugged. “If you’d like, I can pull it very, very slowly.”

  I giggled despite myself, so of course Daddy had to tell me another one:

  “Why don’t dentists eat much?”

  “Why?” I asked.

  “Because most of what they do is filling.”

  I hit him on the shoulder and said I hoped he didn’t tell his patients that one. It’s terrible. He assured me that they laugh anyway and then he told me not to stay up too late with my diary and my reading.

  I thought about what he said after he left, and decided that I’d best keep praying for Morris and Adam and Isaac and Mark. Well, I’ll just ask God to keep all our family and friends and everyone over there safe. After all, it can’t hurt, right?

  And of course I said special prayers for Sarah and her family, just like I do every night.

  I just wish I were old enough to fight. And not a girl! After all, I’m named after a great fighter. I’d sign up and go kick Nazis all the way to Timbuktu!

  December 13

  We stood in line for a sneak preview today at the Uptown, and it turned out to be The Great Dictator. Oh my gosh, dear diary, you have no idea how funny it was!! I was holding my stomach I was laughing so hard and I even dropped all my popcorn on the floor. Elizabeth almost threw up she laughed so hard — she got the hiccups and couldn’t stop. Dictator Hynkel fights the Jews and Na
paloni, Dictator of Bacteria!! Bacteria. I’m laughing still, just thinking about it.

  By the way, I’ve decided to make a list of people I like from class and people I don’t. Guess what Mary said today when we were playing around the new building site down the street. “I hope no more Jews are going to move in here.” And this just after seeing the Chaplin movie. She’s part of the group of girls that I seem to be stuck with. I miss all my Jewish friends from the north end, that’s for sure. I realize now what a swell bunch they are — now that I’m not there anymore. So I said, “I’m Jewish.” And she said, “Well, I knew that.” As if that was different somehow or didn’t matter or what she said was not mean. I can just hear her parents saying it and her repeating it. They are such snobs. And no one said anything to her, not even Elizabeth.

  So I’m making a list of nice and not nice. N stands for nice. S stands for snob. G for part of our group that plays together after school.

  Girls:

  Alexandra — N, G, shorter than me

  Sandy — N, G, freckles all over her!

  Mira — N, G, very skinny

  Leslie — N, G, quiet

  Elizabeth — N, G, very smart, always happy

  Mary — S, G, also very smart

  Jane — N, best skipper at school

  Sandra B — S, enough said!

  Francis — goof

  Hester — G, Jewish, nice but talks non-stop, hence annoying

  Devorah — perfect! Maybe a little short, skinny, long dark hair (way too curly), brown eyes.

  Boys:

  Peter — N, G, smart

  Marvin — N, cute

  Allan — N, almost as tall as me. In other words, a shrimp.

  Paul — N and lives on my street, G, also cute, freckles, red hair, big smile, shy, seems to like me

  Maury — S

  John — N, and smart

  Joshua — Jewish and cute, black curly hair

  Terry — N

  Robert — crazy — would be funny if he married Hester. Imagine the children they’d have!

  I wanted to talk to Mommy or Daddy about Mary’s remark, but they were huddled over the newspaper. I saw the headline: JAPS CLAIM CITY OF KOWLOON TAKEN.

  “Isn’t that where Morris was?” I asked.

  “Yes,” Mommy answered, “but they all moved from there, according to the papers. And it says here that where they are is a secret.” I guess they have to keep it secret — they don’t want to tell the enemy, do they?

  Then she said she’d made my favourite for dinner. I tried to look excited. My favourite used to be cabbage rolls. No one makes them better than Mommy. But she forgets that since the boys aren’t here she never makes their favourites — she makes mine all the time. Cabbage rolls could turn out to be my most hated meal.

  Mommy has been out at Hadassah meetings all week, with no time to cook. They are planning a huge tea to raise money for Palestine, and another event, a fashion show, to raise money for the troops. Mommy looks a little better. I guess keeping busy has helped take her mind off what’s happening in Hong Kong. (And saved me from cabbage rolls.)

  December 14

  We spent the afternoon over at Auntie Adele’s. The river is frozen deep so we went tobogganing and then had the usual feast — chicken soup and chicken and shmaltz and herring and that chocolate cake she makes and her homemade doughnuts and oh yes her pickles. The adults talked about the boys and how they might be doing and Baba Tema sat there looking stern, as if we were all criminals. She scares me. I must admit to you and you only, diary, that not seeing her every single Sunday since we’ve moved to the south end is hunky-dory with me. She never talks to me and I always think that she’s sitting there thinking what a stupid mug I am. Course she doesn’t talk much to anyone. Daddy is not at all like her, thank goodness. He talks all the time and tells jokes and never, ever makes me feel stupid — just the opposite. I’m sure I’m not as smart as he thinks I am. Well, maybe I am, I can only hope! Cousin Jenny let me try on some of her clothes and hats, even though they were all too big for me. She’s almost sixteen, and she’s so pretty. She can play piano like an angel. She goes over to the child-minding centre on Stella and plays piano for the children who have to stay there all day because their mothers are working in the factories now. Everyone plays piano, except me, because I refused to practise. It was so boring! I’m sort of sorry now though, especially when I hear her play. Uncle Simon did magic tricks after dinner. I wish he could make this whole war and Hitler and the Nazis disappear. Wouldn’t that be perfect?

  December 15

  Did I mention that I’ve put a map up on my wall? They had it in the Saturday Tribune. Now I can see where Morris might be when the stories come out about the Grenadiers in Hong Kong. Kowloon is right there on the mainland across from the island of Hong Kong.

  I don’t think I did very well in the math test today. I can’t say I bothered to study. Who cares, after all? Don’t I have enough to worry about? Still, Morris will be very unhappy if I let my schooling go. He wouldn’t want me to use him as an excuse not to do my work. So I’d better study for the history test this Friday.

  Meanwhile, at dinner Mommy wondered if she’d be called up to work in the factories or for the war effort in some way, because today in the paper it was announced that there’s going to be a mobilization of both men and women for the war effort, with no exemptions. But the hardest thing to see in the paper today was a picture of the Canadian troops in Hong Kong. We got out the magnifying glass and tried to see if we could pick out Morris or any of the others we know, but no luck. And then the paper said that the troops were withdrawing from the mainland and moving to defend the island of Hong Kong. So far, only two Canadians reported wounded from the battle in Hong Kong and neither of them Morris. So maybe it’s not so bad as I imagined.

  After dinner we all listened to the news on the radio and then we listened to The Lone Ranger. That was fun and for a while it all seemed normal except not really because Adam isn’t here acting out all the parts as the story happens, and Morris isn’t here complaining that the radio is too noisy and he can’t study. I miss them both so much.

  December 16

  A letter just for me from Adam!! Here it is.

  Dorset,

  December 1, ’41

  Dearest Dev,

  I’ve been skating! Yes, they actually have rinks here and I took a fresh young English Rose, named Emily, and taught her how. It was fun and I was considered quite the gent when she fell and I carried her all the way to the pub! Some of the fellows are using their time off to play small pranks — that same night, they got a very friendly dog quite drunk.

  We like it down here on the southern coast, and I’m glad to report that so far we’ve only lost two from my team. Remember Billy Lawson? He got so fearful of going back up he just couldn’t do it and he was branded a coward and then they found he’d hanged himself behind the barracks.

  Don’t tell Mom and Dad this — remember our pact. Since you never worry, I tell you the truth of it and them the pretty version.

  I take the little bear you gave me with me on every flight and so far he’s done a good job of keeping me safe. And it’s funny, isn’t it — you couldn’t have known that our squadron would be called the Winnipeg Bears. A grizzly, our badge, is supposed to represent courage to the Indians — whenever I need a little extra I just give Winnie a small squeeze and it helps.

  Give my love to everyone and thank Moms for the Laura Secord chocolates. They were delicious. And the scarf she knit just fits the bill! I could use some extra warm winter undies — my gosh it can get cold here. It’s the damp that seems to get into your very bones.

  Cheerio!!

  Love,

  Adam

  Adam is starting to sound almost as British as the king! Must remember to tease him about it in my next letter.

  I guess it’s not so long ago when I didn’t worry about anything. I worry all the time now. But I guess Adam needs to tell someone what is re
ally going on and he just can’t bring himself to tell Mommy. Daddy would be OK. He’s always calm. And Mommy isn’t what I would call a worrier — she just gets so mad, you don’t want to get her started. For instance, when we catch a cold we need to brace for a big angry lecture about not wearing our hats or boots and it’s our fault and if we get pneumonia and die it’ll be our own fault and on and on. He’d better not get hurt, that’s all I can say.

  Later

  I was so excited about my letter from Adam I almost forgot Morris, until I got the bad news at dinner — the island of Hong Kong might have to be evacuated!! Daddy isn’t sure they’ll be able to do it, though. He’s worried that they waited too long.

  We practised for our dance recital today at ballet. I can forget all the bad news there and just concentrate on my dancing. Mommy has sewn me a lovely butterfly costume with yellow wings made from an old dress. I’m getting a little nervous — the concert is only a week away!

  Mommy had a fit when I told her about Adam’s request for more underwear. She was so upset that he didn’t have absolutely everything he needed she could barely wait for tomorrow for the shops and the post office to open. He’ll have that underwear so fast he won’t believe it. She says this time she’s including gum and hard candy. And four extra pairs of wool socks, just in case.

  December 20

  We have two airmen here this weekend from the air training station at Gimli. Mommy finds out who the Jewish boys are from her Hadassah group, and invites them for Shabbat. They stay for a couple days and get well fed and seem to appreciate it. These two are very nice, a British fellow, George, and a Canadian from B.C., Larry. They each have their own room and they go out after dinner to dances, just like so many others on leave. There are lots of young women who make sure to go to these dances. Very patriotic of them, the boys say.

  Flyers seem to be a happy bunch. They always joke around and have fun. Adam certainly is like that.

 

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