Yossi's Goal by Ellen Schwartz Read Free Book Online Page A

lump of coal and started skating toward Yossi.
    Don’t come near me!
Yossi thought, panicked.
They’ll see me!
But then he realized that if the boys purposely stayed away from him, it would look even more suspicious.
    The blond boy advanced, pushing the lump with first one side of his stick and then the other. One short brown-haired fellow raced him for the coal with quick, choppy steps, but the blond boy was too fast. Pulling back with his stick, the blond boy looked up and his eyes locked with Yossi’s. In that moment, Yossi forgot about the bundle and the packet and the danger—forgot about everything except what he had to do, which was to stop the blond boy from getting the lump of coal past him. He lowered his stick to the ice, keeping his eye on the coal. The blond boy fired. The lump rose into the air. Realizing his mistake, Yossi started bringing his stick up. Too late. The lump of coal sailed over his shoulder, into the snowbank.
    â€œ
But!
” the blond boy called. Cheers erupted. The blond boy slid into thesnowbank, stick raised, knocking Yossi off his feet and toppling both of them onto the ice.
    â€œThose stupid Frenchies,” Yossi heard Max say.
    â€œCome on, we’re wasting our time,” the supervisor said.
    When Yossi looked up, they were walking away.
    Lying on the ice, Yossi found himself face to face with the blond boy. Blue eyes stared into brown. Yossi grinned. The other boy grinned back, revealing a chipped tooth.
    â€œYossi,” Yossi said, pointing to himself.
    â€œRené,” the other boy said.
    Yossi pushed himself to his knees. He grasped René’s arm. “Thanks!” he said in Yiddish.
    René clasped Yossi’s hand. “
De rien
,” he said. Yossi couldn’t understand the words, but he knew that René was saying that it was all right.
    The two boys got to their feet, and the others gathered around. René introducedYossi, then presented the other boys to him. Michel, the stocky boy who’d traded places with Yossi. Jean-Paul, the quick brown-haired boy. Hugo, a tall boy with a dimpled chin. Georges and Jacques, freckled boys who appeared to be twins.
    All of them slapped Yossi on the back— except the boy named Hugo. He kept a little apart from the others and looked at Yossi warily.
    René gestured down the street at the departing pair. He spat on the ice. “
Les maudits Anglais
.”
    Michel rubbed his fingers together to indicate money. “
Les riches Anglais
.”
    The other boys nodded, and so did Yossi, getting the meaning.
    â€œMy papa,” Yossi said in Yiddish. “Steiner’s.” He mimed someone hunched over a sewing machine, pushing cloth through.
    â€œ
Oui, mon papa aussi
,” Jean-Paul said, gesturing to himself.
    â€œ
Notre maman
,” Georges said, mimickingsomeone sewing tiny stiches with a needle and thread.
    â€œYes!” Yossi cried. “My mama too. And my sister.” He squinted as if to show how hard the sewing was on the eyes.
    â€œ
Oui, oui
,” Jacques said, rubbing his eyes.
    Yossi sighed. So his family, and his friends’ families, weren’t the only ones toiling for the garment bosses. He’d seen the run-down houses in the French neighborhood—now he knew why these boys were as poor as he was.
    That reminded him of the bundle. Hastily, he dug away at the snowbank with the stick and pulled it out. Then he hoisted the slightly damp bundle onto his back.
    â€œGood–bye—and thanks,” he called.
    â€œ
Salut
,” the boys called.
    Bent over, Yossi started walking away.
    â€œ
Attends!
” Michel yelled. Yossi turned back. Quickly Michel traded caps with him.
    With a wave, Yossi left.

Chapter Eight
    Slowly Papa got better. With Yossi’s money, Mama had bought a chicken for soup and herbs for tea and even a precious lemon and some honey, and she fed Papa bowlfuls and cupfuls until he protested he was going to