Rachel's Hope by Shelly Sanders Read Free Book Online

the teacher, “are you all right?”
    Unable to speak, Rachel stood and ran out of the room. In the vestibule, she shook her head vigorously until the sound of Mikhail calling out for help finally diminished.
    Nucia, who had run after Rachel, hugged her.
    â€œIs it Mikhail?” Nucia asked Rachel.
    â€œYes,” whispered Rachel.
    â€œIt’s been a long time since I’ve seen you so upset,” said Nucia with concern in her voice.
    â€œBeing here, so far from Kishinev, I don’t think about him often.”
    Nucia nodded sympathetically. “Now I agree with you. We must put the past behind us. I promise I will try harder to accept the new ways here.”
    Rachel threw her arms around her sister. “Just be the person you want to be,” she whispered in Nucia’s ear.

4
    Sergei Khanzhenkov
    Barracks No. 6
    Putilov Plant
    47, Stachek Avenue
    Petersburg, Russia
    May 30, 1905
    Dearest Sergei,
    I haven’t heard any word from you. I’m terribly worried about you. This is the third letter I’ve written without a reply. I even sent a letter to your home in Kishinev, in case you are no longer at the factory in Petersburg.
    In the newspaper, I’ve been reading about the worker uprisings in Russia. I am terrified you are involved. Please write, even if you can only manage one sentence. It would mean a lot to Menahem and to me.
    As ever,
    Rachel
    P.S. Menahem has asked us to call him Marty now, an American name, so that he fits in better with his friends. It has been hard to think of him with a new name, but he is much happier. And we’re getting used to it.
    Rachel handed her nickel to the conductor and sat down beside Marty on the electric streetcar. They were taking the Number One California Street Line, which traveled along the cliffs of Lands End. Jacob had earned a tidy profit during the week, selling food to five new shops, and was treating all of them to an excursion to the Sutro Baths, created by the Jewish engineer Adolph Sutro who had made his fortune in mining. Covering three acres, this was the world’s largest public bath house.
    â€œWe don’t have to sleep on this train, do we?” Marty asked Rachel in English. Since he spent five full days a week in school, he had made astounding progress with the language. Now, he and Rachel spoke only English to one another. And while it was still hard to think of him as Marty, when she met his friends—Dan, Mike, and Joe—she agreed that Menahem sounded out of place.
    Jacob swiveled around in his seat in front of them. In his tan trousers, white shirt, and short hair, he looked as if he’d been born in America. Except for his thick Russian accent, when he spoke in English, which gave him away. “This will be the shortest train ride you’ve ever had, about thirty minutes, Menahem,” he said. Speaking to potential customers and to shop owners when he made deliveries, he had also become quite proficient in English.
    â€œMarty,” corrected Menahem.
    â€œMarty,” said Jacob, with a grin.
    â€œIt takes thirty minutes to get there,” said Rachel. “That’s how long it takes you to walk to school.”
    Relief washed over Marty’s face.
    Rachel recalled the weeks they had spent on the overcrowded, filthy train traveling through Russia on their way to the port of Vladivostok, where they caught the boat to Shanghai.
    â€œIt still seems like a long way to go to a bathhouse,” said Nucia, in a mix of Yiddish and English. She struggled with the new language, often resorting to Yiddish when she had a lot to say. She didn’t go to classes as much as Rachel, choosing to spend more time at home after work.
    â€œThis is no ordinary bathhouse,” said Jacob. “I’ve heard it can hold thousands of people.”
    The train started to move west along California Street. Within minutes, Rachel caught a glimpse of the deep turquoise water of the Pacific Ocean.