The Journey Back by Johanna Reiss Read Free Book Online Page B

for a long time.
    “Where shall I take you, Mrs. Menko?” the driver asked her.
    “Home,” she whispered, “please.” She raised herself a little, to help him look.
    Slowly he drove through the streets. “Tell me where I should stop.”
    “Not here … no … no …”
    For the second time he wove through town. “You must find it quickly,” he warned. “Soon it will be really dark, and you certainly won’t be able to recognize your house.”
    She looked and looked. “So con used she sobbed.
    “Don’t worry,” he said, “we’ll find it. Winters-wiik is not that big.
    But I wish you remembered your address!”
    At last he stopped at the police station. Two policemen came out, carrying flashlights. For a second they looked at her. She was covered with boils-even her scalp. Trembling, they carried her inside. She was light, although she was tall. Fifty pounds only. ‘
    Ater they had checked the register and found out where she had lived for twenty-five years, they said she could not go there. “Not yet, Mrs.
    Menko. Who would look ater you? When you’re stronger.” They took her to the hospital instead.
    “I don’t see how she can pull through,” Father said softly. He had just been and seen.
    What a beautiful summer, people said, hardly a rain. Which was lucky, they added right aw since there were so many who were still liv outdoors or in houses that had no roofs. In orchards the trees were heavy with fruit-api big enough to be almost a meal in themselves. In fields and gar deus the cabbage plants were sho Lug up as if they were being pushed. “It’s going be some harvest,” people said, laughing already, i thinking about it.
    On Sundays the churches were filled, with m: people giving thanks for many things.
    Rachel was there, too. She left the house v. early, before anyone else was up, closing the d, softly behind her. A few hours later she we’ come back, her face bright and happy. In the af noon the church bells rang again and once to Rachel rushed off.
    With his hands jammed in his pockets, Fat watched her go. He wished the soldiers had stc the church bells, and turned them into bullets. Tl had in many other towns. The sound of them, driving him crazy. And on Sundays he began to out, too-for his business.
    I had often passed them before, the group of children. I even knew in which houses along the cobblestone street most of them lived, and exactly wberc they played, throwing balls, nmnin , giggling, shrieking, or just standing around. But they had never before stopped what they were doing when they saw me or looked at me in this way, as if they were waiting for me.
    They were coming over. All of them? Yes, all six. What did they want?
    Were they going to chase me, shout Jew in my ears again, hit and kick as kids had done years before?
    I walked faster. They did, too. Their voices. That close already? I still had a good distance to go before I’d be home-more than half.
    They were right next to me now. In a second, they’d begin. Please, no.
    “Were you really hidden as people say?” one of them began.
    I stopped. “Yes.” Nervously I licked my lips. “Did the Germans ever catch you?”
    “You escaped?”
    “Any shooting?”
    “They hit you?” Curiously they closer. “What was it like?”
    “What did you do?”
    “Nothing,” I whispered.
    Unbelieving, they looked at me. “Nothing? For all that time?”
    “The Germans had their local headquarters in the downstairs of the house I stayed in.” My voice sounded a lot louder now. “It was scary.”
    “Did they catch you then?” one of the boys demanded.
    “Well-no,” I confessed. “But don’t think it wasn’t dangerous. I had to stay in bed all the time, so they wouldn’t hear me, and once “
    “What?”
    “A soldier saw me,” I said triumphantly. But, no, nothing had happened then, either. Ashamed, I dropped my eyes.
    “Let’s go back,” I heard one say. When I looked up, they were already doing that.
    But wait. One of