Yossi's Goal by Ellen Schwartz Read Free Book Online

away— but even if he saved his own skin, they’dfind the packet, and that would mean trouble for everyone. Yossi reached another corner and glanced back. They were less than a block away. Winded, he glanced around, seeking an escape. The grocer’s where they’d got the rotten eggs! It was up ahead, and Yossi remembered there was an alley behind it. He darted into the narrow passageway between the grocer’s and the shop next door, and turned into the alley. The wooden crate behind the grocer’s was overflowing with spoiled vegetables, rotten fruit, sawdust and broken eggs. Wedging himself between the back of the building and the crate, Yossi crouched down, his nose filling with putrid smells.
    Footsteps pounded up the passageway, then thundered past his hiding place. “Where’d he go?” the supervisor yelled.
    â€œI know he came this way,” Max said, walking right past the crate.
    The supervisor paced back and forth. “Well, there’s no sign of him.”
    â€œBut I saw him—”
    â€œPhew! It stinks!” the supervisor said. “Come on, let’s go.”
    They disappeared down the passageway.
    When their footsteps had faded, Yossi eased out from behind the crate. He snuck through the passageway and looked down the street. Max and the supervisor were a block away. Yossi turned in the opposite direction, running as quickly as he could, reaching back with both hands to steady the bundle. He’d gone half a block when he heard, “There he is! Get him!”
    They must have turned around and seen him! Panting, zigzagging from street to street, not sure where he was, Yossi ran…ran…. Turning down an alley, he found himself at the ice rink. And there were the French boys, skating back and forth, sticks in hand.
    â€œHelp!” Yossi cried in Yiddish, then sank to his knees at the edge of the ice.
    The tall blond boy—the one who’d told Yossi the name of the game—skated over. The other boys gathered around.

    â€œBundle…packet…,” Yossi panted in Yiddish, pointing to his load. “Steiner’s… they’re coming…” He looked over his shoulder fearfully. “Hide me!” He put his arms over his head. “
S’il vous plait!
” he added desperately, hoping he’d got the words right.
    For a long moment the blond boy stared at Yossi. He peered up the street. Then he sprang into action. Speaking rapidly to the others in French, he beckoned toward the end of the rink, where the burly boy in the red stocking cap was standing in front of the snowbank. The burly boy skated over. The blond boy ripped the bundle from Yossi’s back and handed it to the burly boy, who was quickly joined by two others. Digging with their hockey sticks, they quickly hollowed out a space in the snowbank, shoved the bundle into it and covered it with snow.
    The blond boy led Yossi across the ice, holding Yossi’s elbow as his booted feet slipped and slid. He thrust Yossi in front of the snowbank and switched Yossi’swoven cap with the red stocking cap of the burly boy. He shoved the boy’s stick into Yossi’s hands. Shouting something at the others, he batted the lump of coal down the ice. The game resumed, just as Max and the supervisor came running down the street.
    Leaning on the stick for balance, Yossi watched the two visitors out of the corner of his eye.
    â€œNot again,” Max cried, stamping his foot.
    â€œWhere is he?” the supervisor said.
    â€œHe can’t have just disappeared!”
    The supervisor shrugged. Edging closer to the ice, he called in a mixture of Yiddish and English, “You boys! Did you see a boy go by? With a big bundle on his back?” He gestured to indicate the bundle.
    The boys shrugged and shook their heads as if they had no idea what he was talking about. They continued their game, zooming up and down the ice. The blond boy got control of the