Nazis took over Paris during World War Two. It was definitely not a safe place for anyone Jewish.”
“That’s terrible.” Ruthie pondered what Jack had just said. If this trip back in time was like their other visits to the Thorne Rooms, she knew she had just met a person who had really lived, like Sophie Lacombe and Thomas Wilcox. She understood that she and Jack could do nothing about Amelia Earhart; her fate was sealed. But maybe they could something to help Louisa. “You know what we have to do, don’t you?”
R UTHIE WAS FILLED WITH QUESTIONS at dinner that evening. She wanted her dad to tell her all about Paris in 1937 and what had happened to the Jewish people who lived there during World War II. It was difficult to get her questions answered since her parents were busy planning her sister’s upcoming trip to visit colleges.
Many of Ruthie’s classmates went to cool places over spring break: exotic islands with pink sand beaches, resorts in someplace called the Mayan Riviera, or at least Florida. Ruthie, however, would be spending spring break right around the corner at Jack’s while her parents and Claire traveled to college campuses. If she hadn’t had other things on her mind—a real travel adventure—she would have felt completely cheated.
It was Ruthie’s night to do the dishes with her dad. As he washed and she dried she could finally have hisattention. He taught high school history and loved answering her questions.
“Of course you’ve learned about the Holocaust and the Jews who lived in Germany. But a large number left Germany in the 1930s, especially after 1935, when a set of laws limited their freedoms and citizenship. The Nazis believed that Germans were a superior race and that Jews were inferior.”
“That’s so crazy.” Ruthie had learned all of that in school, but she still couldn’t believe it. “What happened in Paris?”
“France was invaded by the Germans, and in 1940 the French surrendered. Paris was occupied by the Nazis for the duration of the war, until the American army came and liberated the city four years later.”
“What happened to the Jews there?” Ruthie pressed.
“They were no safer in Paris than in Germany. Some found ways to hide, but many, many were taken off to concentration camps. And most of those people were killed.”
Ruthie was beginning to feel sick. It was as though the war were happening now and she had to do something to stop it.
“You okay, sweetie?” her dad asked.
Ruthie took a deep breath. “I guess. It’s just so … horrible.”
“Yes. That’s why it’s important to know history—so we don’t repeat it. After all, World War Two wasn’t really that long ago.”
Ruthie had heard her dad say stuff like that before, butit had always gone in one ear and out the other. Now she listened and believed him. She wiped the drips off one of the china plates that her mother had inherited from her grandmother. What would it feel like if she had to leave this apartment, leave Chicago and Oakton, and be sent to a concentration camp?
Ruthie thought about Louisa and her little dog as she watched the soapsuds disappear down the drain. A realization grew in her, like a wave rising. Visiting the rooms and the past was not simply an exciting adventure; it involved matters of life and death, and she had a responsibility to do whatever she could to help Louisa.
Ruthie went to her bedroom and closed the door. She called Jack from her cell phone.
“We’ve got to warn her soon,” Ruthie blurted out when he picked up, without even saying hello.
“Yeah. I know. Let’s go back on Saturday.” Jack sneezed three times on the other end of the line.
“I have my first drawing lesson on Saturday, and I don’t know how long that will take. But my parents and Claire are leaving on Friday, remember? And there’s no school that day anyway—it’s Good Friday.”
“Okay. Friday.” Jack sneezed again. “I’m going to sleep now.”
“Bye.”
“That’s terrible.” Ruthie pondered what Jack had just said. If this trip back in time was like their other visits to the Thorne Rooms, she knew she had just met a person who had really lived, like Sophie Lacombe and Thomas Wilcox. She understood that she and Jack could do nothing about Amelia Earhart; her fate was sealed. But maybe they could something to help Louisa. “You know what we have to do, don’t you?”
R UTHIE WAS FILLED WITH QUESTIONS at dinner that evening. She wanted her dad to tell her all about Paris in 1937 and what had happened to the Jewish people who lived there during World War II. It was difficult to get her questions answered since her parents were busy planning her sister’s upcoming trip to visit colleges.
Many of Ruthie’s classmates went to cool places over spring break: exotic islands with pink sand beaches, resorts in someplace called the Mayan Riviera, or at least Florida. Ruthie, however, would be spending spring break right around the corner at Jack’s while her parents and Claire traveled to college campuses. If she hadn’t had other things on her mind—a real travel adventure—she would have felt completely cheated.
It was Ruthie’s night to do the dishes with her dad. As he washed and she dried she could finally have hisattention. He taught high school history and loved answering her questions.
“Of course you’ve learned about the Holocaust and the Jews who lived in Germany. But a large number left Germany in the 1930s, especially after 1935, when a set of laws limited their freedoms and citizenship. The Nazis believed that Germans were a superior race and that Jews were inferior.”
“That’s so crazy.” Ruthie had learned all of that in school, but she still couldn’t believe it. “What happened in Paris?”
“France was invaded by the Germans, and in 1940 the French surrendered. Paris was occupied by the Nazis for the duration of the war, until the American army came and liberated the city four years later.”
“What happened to the Jews there?” Ruthie pressed.
“They were no safer in Paris than in Germany. Some found ways to hide, but many, many were taken off to concentration camps. And most of those people were killed.”
Ruthie was beginning to feel sick. It was as though the war were happening now and she had to do something to stop it.
“You okay, sweetie?” her dad asked.
Ruthie took a deep breath. “I guess. It’s just so … horrible.”
“Yes. That’s why it’s important to know history—so we don’t repeat it. After all, World War Two wasn’t really that long ago.”
Ruthie had heard her dad say stuff like that before, butit had always gone in one ear and out the other. Now she listened and believed him. She wiped the drips off one of the china plates that her mother had inherited from her grandmother. What would it feel like if she had to leave this apartment, leave Chicago and Oakton, and be sent to a concentration camp?
Ruthie thought about Louisa and her little dog as she watched the soapsuds disappear down the drain. A realization grew in her, like a wave rising. Visiting the rooms and the past was not simply an exciting adventure; it involved matters of life and death, and she had a responsibility to do whatever she could to help Louisa.
Ruthie went to her bedroom and closed the door. She called Jack from her cell phone.
“We’ve got to warn her soon,” Ruthie blurted out when he picked up, without even saying hello.
“Yeah. I know. Let’s go back on Saturday.” Jack sneezed three times on the other end of the line.
“I have my first drawing lesson on Saturday, and I don’t know how long that will take. But my parents and Claire are leaving on Friday, remember? And there’s no school that day anyway—it’s Good Friday.”
“Okay. Friday.” Jack sneezed again. “I’m going to sleep now.”
“Bye.”
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