While We're Far Apart (19 page)

Dear Mama and Abba,

It has been so long since I’ve received a letter from you, and I know that the silence must be just as hard for you to bear in America as it is for me here in Hungary. Every time I look at my little daughter and I try to imagine being separated from her, not knowing if she is well or if she is suffering, I understand how you must feel. And so after much prayer, I have decided that I must write this letter to you and trust that Hashem will allow you to receive it in America someday.

I have made friends with the minister of the Christian church here in our village. He is a very kind man, and I plan to give him this letter and ask him to mail it to you after the war ends. The rumors that we hear about this war and what the Nazis are doing to our people are terrifying. And if anything should happen to us – Hashem forbid – you will at least know something of our story.

When Germany invaded Poland five years ago, many Jewish refugees fled here to Hungary and to our village to escape from the Nazis. We crowded as many as we could into the Yeshiva and into our homes. These survivors told us that the Nazis are trying to kill all of the Jewish people – not thousands of us, but millions. Hitler is a modern-day version of Haman, Queen Esther’s enemy from the Scriptures. He wants every last one of us dead. I’m not sure if the world knows this truth yet, but if they do, it seems as though no one is doing anything about it.

In July of 1941, the Germans began to put pressure on the Hungarian government to arrest all of their enemies, which included the Jews. To appease their ally, Hungary rounded up all the Polish Jews who had sought refuge here and deported them. In a village as small as ours, there was no place to hide and not enough time to escape. They were taken back to Poland, and we fear the worst for them.

I have asked the rabbi why our people are experiencing this great suffering. Was it for some great sin we have committed? What have we done to bring this upon ourselves? He believes that it is not because of sin that we are persecuted but because of the Torah. The Hamans of this world want to wipe out all memory of our people and of our covenant with Hashem, as well as all memory of His Law so that evil can flourish unfettered. In the time of Queen Esther, Haman sought to destroy our people because we would bow only to Hashem, not to him. In Daniel’s time, the three faithful Jews were thrown into the fiery furnace because they would not bow to a golden statue. But like Joseph, who was sold into slavery in Egypt, we must trust and believe that what our enemies intend for evil, Hashem will turn into good. As the prophet Habakkuk has written: “Though the fig tree does not bud and there are no grapes on the vines, though the olive crop fails and the fields produce no food, though there are no sheep in the pen and no cattle in the stalls, yet I will rejoice in the Lord, I will be joyful in Hashem my Savior.”

After our Polish friends were taken away, we were left to live in peace for a time. But two weeks ago, suddenly and unexpectedly, the soldiers burst into our shul on Shabbat and took all of the able-bodied men away to work in forced labor gangs. The only reason I am able to write this is because I was at home in bed when they came, struck ill with a terrible fever and pneumonia. In fact, I nearly died. I didn’t understand at the time why Hashem had allowed me to suffer such a serious illness, but now I see that it was His way of sparing me when all the other men, including Sarah Rivkah’s father and brothers, were taken away.

Two years ago when the first wave of forced labor conscription took place, we had no idea what it meant. Now we do. The “lucky” ones will be put to work inside factories all day – factories that are the targets of Allied bombs. Others will be forced to mine the raw materials needed for the war or to work in gangs repairing and building roads and railroads. In other words, they are slaves. No one has returned home except to die. The government won’t feed men who have become too weak or too sick to work, and so they are sent home to die.

Now that I am no longer ill, I live in fear that they will come back to conscript me. After much prayer, I have decided that Sarah Rivkah, Fredeleh, and I must leave the village. It’s too difficult for me to hide here, and except for my Christian friend and his wife, I don’t know which of our Hungarian neighbors I can trust. I have tried to convince our families to join us – Abba’s brother Yehuda, Mama’s family, Sarah’s family. I have begged them all to come to Budapest with us. It is easier to hide in a big city, I tell them. But they all say, “What about food? How will we live? The whole country is suffering from shortages and famine. At least we can grow our own food, raise our own chickens in the country.”

Everyone believes they are safer here in the provinces. No one will listen to me except for Sarah’s mother. And so tomorrow I will take her and my wife and daughter to Budapest to stay with Abba’s brother Baruch, if he will have us.

I love you, Mama and Abba. And I am hoping that even if the worst happens to us, you will receive this letter one day. I place all of my trust in Hashem, who is able to keep us in His care.

Love always,
Avraham

C
HAPTER 17

T
HE PIANO BENCH
felt very hard to Esther as she tried to concentrate on the piece she was supposed to learn for her next lesson. She wanted to get it right so she could play it for her father as a surprise, but tonight she felt much too restless to practice the piano. Daddy was coming home in only three more days, and she wished she knew how to make the long, endless weekend pass more quickly. He would make everything right again when he got home. Well, almost everything. Mama would still be gone. But Daddy would see how much they needed him and he would quit the army. Then Peter would start talking again and Penny would go back home where she belonged. And maybe, just maybe, Esther would feel happy again.

Esther glanced over her shoulder at Penny. She was sitting beneath the living room lamp, sewing the hem on an ugly gray uniform with a needle and thread. Penny never used to wear a uniform to work, and these ugly ones had pants – something Penny never wore at all, even at home.

Esther tried once again to concentrate on the music and couldn’t. She pounded the keyboard with a discordant crash and whirled around to face Penny, who had a startled look on her face. “May Peter and I go to the movies on Saturday?”

“Tomorrow? Well . . . I was planning to go shopping with a friend from work. I thought you might want to come with us and do girly things.”

“No, thank you. I’d rather go to the movies.” She hoped Penny wouldn’t ask which film was playing because Esther didn’t know. The idea of going with Jacky Hoffman – the new, nicer Jacky Hoffman – made her heart jump around inside her chest like a game of Double Dutch skip rope. He walked home from school with her nearly every day, and she liked talking to him.

“What time does the movie start?” Penny asked. “I don’t know how long it will take me to shop, but I could try to get back in time to take you.”

“You don’t have to. Peter and I can go to the movies by ourselves. I’m almost thirteen. And the theater is only a few blocks away.”

“I don’t know, Esther . . .”

“Besides, some friends from school are coming with us.”

“Which kids? Does your father know them?”

“Sure. They live right next door. We walk home from school with them sometimes.”

Penny didn’t reply. Esther wished she knew what Penny was thinking, but since Esther wasn’t being completely honest with Penny, she feared looking her in the eye. Mama had always been able to detect a fib.

“I think I should ask your father first,” Penny said. “Can you wait and go to the movies another Saturday? I’ll ask him when he comes home. It’s just a few more days.”

“He won’t mind if we go. We used to go to the Saturday matinee all the time when he was home.” Esther didn’t mention the fact that he had gone with them. “And if you’re worried about money, Peter and I can pay our own way. We have money from doing chores for Mr. Mendel.”

“I don’t know . . .”

Esther was losing her temper but thought it might work against her to throw a tantrum. Grandma Shaffer had once told her,
“You can catch more flies with honey than you can with vinegar.”
Esther hadn’t known what that meant until Grandma had explained it. She would try the “honey” approach now. “Please, Penny? You shouldn’t have to change your plans just for us. The theater is even closer than the school is, and we walk to school without you every day. Please?”

“Well . . .”

“Thanks, Penny. We’ll work extra hard and get all of our chores done tomorrow morning.”

“But I – ”

“And I promise that we won’t even complain while we do them.” She blew Penny a kiss before she could protest and sprinted up the stairs to tell Peter the good news. He sat hunched on his bed like a little old man, thin and looking worried.

“Hey, Peter, guess what! Penny said we can go see a matinee tomorrow afternoon.”

Peter seemed to shrivel even more, as if he wanted to crawl under the blankets and hide. She felt a jolt of fear and wanted to shake him until he was all right again.

“I’ll pay your way, don’t worry. It’ll be fun.”

He found the little slate he sometimes used and wrote:
By ourselves? Without Daddy?

“Jacky Hoffman says he’ll go with us.” She felt herself blush as she said his name out loud, remembering how cute he was. “He has to deliver groceries in the morning, but he’ll be done in time for the matinee. His brother, Gary, might come, too.” At the mention of the Hoffman brothers, Peter started shaking his head vigorously from side to side. “What’s wrong? Why are you shaking your head like that?”

Peter wrote on the slate:
not with them
.

“Why not? Jacky’s been sticking up for you at school, you know. That’s why the other kids don’t make fun of you anymore for not talking. He’s been acting nice lately, hasn’t he? Walking home from school with us and everything?”

Peter continued to shake his head as he pointed to the slate,
not with them
.

“You make me so mad sometimes! I went to all that trouble to talk Penny into it and now you don’t want to go? She won’t let you stay home alone, and I don’t think you want to go shopping with her, do you?”

Peter slouched lower, still shaking his head in defiance.

“Stop that! You can’t sit around this room reading your stupid comic books for the rest of your life. I want to go to the movies, and you’re coming with me whether you like it or not!”

He turned his head away and lifted his comic book to hide his face. Once again Esther remembered the honey and vinegar approach.

“Please, Petey? Won’t you please do this for me? I’m so tired of being cooped up in this apartment every Saturday, aren’t you? Don’t you want to get out of here and go to the movies like we used to do with Daddy?” She waited, but Peter didn’t respond. “Please? I’ll do the dishes for you all week . . . and I’ll let you listen to any radio program that you want.”

He finally lowered his comic book again and wrote:
OK, but just us
.

Esther could have agreed to go by themselves, only she didn’t want to. She was surprised to discover how much she wanted to go with Jacky. It felt like such a grown-up thing to do. And it felt nice to be a grown-up. Exciting. He had called her “beautiful.”

“I promised Penny that we would go with the other kids. She won’t let us go alone. Besides, Jacky is different now that he has a job after school. You’ll see. Please, Peter? . . . Pretty please?” When he finally nodded his head, she felt like kissing him.

Esther worked extra hard on Saturday morning to finish her chores. Penny had added a few extra ones, saying she wanted to make the apartment especially nice for their father’s homecoming on Monday. As the time to leave for the movie theater approached, Esther worried that Peter would change his mind. She saw his reluctance in every move he made as he slowly put on his jacket and followed her downstairs to the front porch, where Jacky and Gary were waiting for them. Esther’s heart thumped so hard as they walked the one block to the cinema that she barely had enough breath to talk.

A teenaged couple waiting in the ticket line in front of them was holding hands. Esther knew that the pair would probably sit upstairs in the balcony and smooch. Would Jacky consider this a date if she let him pay her way? Would he try to hold her hand or steal a kiss, too? It made her feel very grown-up to imagine that he was her boyfriend. But Esther wasn’t sure she wanted to be that grown-up yet.