wasn’t as good.
I sat up, careful not to disturb the wood, and stared at the boy crouching next to me. About my age, he had cat eyes, their irises weirdly light compared to his olive skin and black hair.
“What you do here?” he said.
“I’m hiding.”
Fear leaped into his eyes. “Why? Pogrom?”
“No, silly. Hide-and-seek.” I’d heard the word
pogrom
from Zayde and Mama, and I knew it was a very bad thing. But it only happened in the old country. What a strange boy, to think of that. Was he one of Anna’s many cousins? Except he wasn’t wearing dress-up clothes, like all the other kids at the party. This boy’s thin shirt looked the way our clothes did when Mama said they’d gotten too old to mend and we should give them to the poor.
I noticed a sack behind him. “What’s that?”
“Nothing.” Suddenly furtive, he shifted his body so I couldn’t see the sack anymore. “You Elaine?”
“How do you know my name?”
“They call. You don’t want they find you?”
“Don’t you know how to play hide-and-seek? What’s your name?”
“Danny.”
“Do you live on this street?”
He looked secretive again but then declared, “Going to. This house, here. My father builds. Big house.” Prouder and prouder, as if with each word, the house became more solid, his future life in it brighter. “You live over there?”
“My aunt and uncle. They’re having a party.”
“Ela-aine!” I heard from my hiding place. It was Barbara. Why was
she
looking for me, when Judy was it? And why the note of urgency? “Elaine, are you there?”
“Over here,” I called in a whisper-shout. “Here! Here!” I crept to the edge of the stack of wood and waved. I couldn’t go out until I put on my shoes.
“Everybody’s looking for you. Are you okay?” She came and stood at the end of my hiding place. And spotted Danny. “Who’s that?”
I looked at him. He was staring openmouthed at Barbara, who sparkled in the bright sunlight in her middy blouse with its jaunty sailor collar.
“Just a boy,” I said. Not wanting to share him. Thinking of him, already, as “my boy.”
Someone yelled, “Barbara! Did you find her?” An adult voice.
“She’s here,” Barbara called back. And said to me, “Hurry.”
I scrambled out from my burrow. A woman screamed, “Thank God, she’s all right!” Then a pack of people rushed at me, and Papa hugged me so tight I couldn’t breathe. He carried me back to Sonya and Leo’s, he and everyone else yelling at me.
“Where were you?”
“Didn’t you hear everyone looking for you?”
“Look at your dress, filthy.”
“Where are your shoes?”
“Did you want to kill your poor mother?” a woman scolded, and when they brought me into the house, I was terrified I had done just that.
Mama was lying back in a chair, her legs splayed and her arms limp over her huge belly. Aunt Sonya was fanning her with a magazine, but Mama didn’t move. Her face looked yellow-white like old candle wax.
“Mama!” I howled, and ran to her. And then stopped, horrified by the puddle of water on the floor by the chair. Had Mama peed herself … like I was doing now, wet shame squirting down my legs even faster than the tears gushed from my eyes?
“Lainie.” Mama opened her eyes and took my hand. I steeled myself for her fury, but something must have been terribly wrong. She smiled at me.
Then she was gone, driven by Leo to the hospital.
I hadn’t hurt Mama, Pearl assured me. Her water had broken, and it meant she was going to have her baby.
But I didn’t stop crying until Barbara came and blew on my face to cool me down. When the adults weren’t looking, she took my hand and we snuck back to the house under construction to get my shoes. She acted like I’d done something bold and exciting, and I stopped feeling guilty and came to see that day as an adventure. For the first time, I saw a little something bold in myself.
AFTER OUR BABY SISTER Audrey was born, we didn’t
I sat up, careful not to disturb the wood, and stared at the boy crouching next to me. About my age, he had cat eyes, their irises weirdly light compared to his olive skin and black hair.
“What you do here?” he said.
“I’m hiding.”
Fear leaped into his eyes. “Why? Pogrom?”
“No, silly. Hide-and-seek.” I’d heard the word
pogrom
from Zayde and Mama, and I knew it was a very bad thing. But it only happened in the old country. What a strange boy, to think of that. Was he one of Anna’s many cousins? Except he wasn’t wearing dress-up clothes, like all the other kids at the party. This boy’s thin shirt looked the way our clothes did when Mama said they’d gotten too old to mend and we should give them to the poor.
I noticed a sack behind him. “What’s that?”
“Nothing.” Suddenly furtive, he shifted his body so I couldn’t see the sack anymore. “You Elaine?”
“How do you know my name?”
“They call. You don’t want they find you?”
“Don’t you know how to play hide-and-seek? What’s your name?”
“Danny.”
“Do you live on this street?”
He looked secretive again but then declared, “Going to. This house, here. My father builds. Big house.” Prouder and prouder, as if with each word, the house became more solid, his future life in it brighter. “You live over there?”
“My aunt and uncle. They’re having a party.”
“Ela-aine!” I heard from my hiding place. It was Barbara. Why was
she
looking for me, when Judy was it? And why the note of urgency? “Elaine, are you there?”
“Over here,” I called in a whisper-shout. “Here! Here!” I crept to the edge of the stack of wood and waved. I couldn’t go out until I put on my shoes.
“Everybody’s looking for you. Are you okay?” She came and stood at the end of my hiding place. And spotted Danny. “Who’s that?”
I looked at him. He was staring openmouthed at Barbara, who sparkled in the bright sunlight in her middy blouse with its jaunty sailor collar.
“Just a boy,” I said. Not wanting to share him. Thinking of him, already, as “my boy.”
Someone yelled, “Barbara! Did you find her?” An adult voice.
“She’s here,” Barbara called back. And said to me, “Hurry.”
I scrambled out from my burrow. A woman screamed, “Thank God, she’s all right!” Then a pack of people rushed at me, and Papa hugged me so tight I couldn’t breathe. He carried me back to Sonya and Leo’s, he and everyone else yelling at me.
“Where were you?”
“Didn’t you hear everyone looking for you?”
“Look at your dress, filthy.”
“Where are your shoes?”
“Did you want to kill your poor mother?” a woman scolded, and when they brought me into the house, I was terrified I had done just that.
Mama was lying back in a chair, her legs splayed and her arms limp over her huge belly. Aunt Sonya was fanning her with a magazine, but Mama didn’t move. Her face looked yellow-white like old candle wax.
“Mama!” I howled, and ran to her. And then stopped, horrified by the puddle of water on the floor by the chair. Had Mama peed herself … like I was doing now, wet shame squirting down my legs even faster than the tears gushed from my eyes?
“Lainie.” Mama opened her eyes and took my hand. I steeled myself for her fury, but something must have been terribly wrong. She smiled at me.
Then she was gone, driven by Leo to the hospital.
I hadn’t hurt Mama, Pearl assured me. Her water had broken, and it meant she was going to have her baby.
But I didn’t stop crying until Barbara came and blew on my face to cool me down. When the adults weren’t looking, she took my hand and we snuck back to the house under construction to get my shoes. She acted like I’d done something bold and exciting, and I stopped feeling guilty and came to see that day as an adventure. For the first time, I saw a little something bold in myself.
AFTER OUR BABY SISTER Audrey was born, we didn’t
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