Recap: Hope stays at the Jacobsons and slowly recuperates from pneumonia. Diana and Bonnie come to visit, and Hope worries if anyone followed them. Bonnie is crying and doesn’t want to leave Hope.
Later, Rivkah came upstairs to visit.
“Can we go in your backyard?” I asked. “I just want to get outside.”
She handed me a sweater. “My mother said it’s fine to take you out. She figured you would want to go outside, but she said you have to wear this.”
I shrugged and slipped on the sweater. It hung on me.
“My mother has to fatten you up. You were so skinny before you got sick.”
We sat under a shady oak. The scent of iris, peonies, and lilies filled the air.
“I was wondering: You never told me much about what it was like in South Carolina.”
I thought of my former home, the beautiful mansion with acres of ground and gardens. How could I explain all that? I thought, with a pang, of my little dance studio – the room where Father had put up mirrors and a barre for me to practice.
“You know, I don’t think I ever told you about my ballet contest.”
“You know ballet?”
“I love to dance. I studied ballet since I was four years old. It was my dream to audition for the New York City Ballet. Well, I wanted to win the local southern contest, and then that was my dream to eventually do that, but now…”
“Wow, you must be so talented. You do look like a dancer. You move so gracefully. I’m not good at dance at all, but I always wished I was.”
“I’ve heard you sing. You have a gorgeous voice.”
“Thanks. Yes, baruch Hashem, I usually get a good singing part in our school production.”
I started thinking about ballet and it hurt too much.
“I shouldn’t have brought it up. I think I’m making you sad. I’m so sorry that you’ve had so much happen. You must miss your family and your home so much.”
“I do miss them, and I do miss dancing; but now, I don’t know, somehow I just feel grateful for every little thing, like taking a shower.”
Rivkah laughed.
“It was hard at my relative’s house. Mrs. Bowers didn’t trust me. I don’t know if I can share that, but she accused me of stealing. It was really awful.”
Rivkah gasped. “That’s really horrible.”
“In the end, she realized she was wrong, but it really hurt me.”
I’m so sorry for all that happened to you. My parents are so happy you came here and that they can help.”
“You’re not even my relatives.”
“Of course we are. All Jews are related.”
“I feel so funny asking, but I don’t have anywhere to go.”
Rivkah shook her head. “You’re my friend and my parents would never turn people away if they needed help, especially you.”
Together we entered her house, and Rivkah brought me into the kitchen where her mother was busy packing little bags with small challahs and small bottles of grape juice for the hospital. “Tikvah.” She put down the bag she was working on and came over and hugged me. She joyfully said, “It’s so nice to see you up and about.”
“Mommy, Tikvah needs to speak with you.”
Mrs. Jacobson motioned me to sit down, and she gave me her full attention.
“I don’t want to trouble you. I feel funny asking to just live here. I don’t know what else to do.” I felt a tear trickle down my cheek. I wiped it away, embarrassed.
“You will stay right here. We would love to have you. Is there any way to reach your parents to let them know where you are?”
I thought about that. It was tricky, because I didn’t want to send that information in a letter.
“I will write to them,” I said. I wouldn’t write where I was. I would just say I was safe and still near where they had left me.
That first night, when I was well and sleeping at the Jacobsons, was the first night I felt happy since my parents had left. Rivkah’s parents treated me like one of their children, so I didn’t have time to feel awkward.
Rivkah and I did the dinner dishes together.
Later that night, Rivkah had fallen asleep but I couldn’t sleep. I’d spent so much time sick in bed. I tiptoed out of the room and sat in the hallway. There was enough light there for me to read. I had one of Rivkah’s books and I was sitting reading about the Count of Monte Cristo plotting his revenge when I heard Rabbi and Mrs. Jacobson whispering in the living room. I didn’t mean to overhear but something the rabbi said caught my attention.
“Should we tell her about it?”
“I don’t know. She’s had so much trauma with leaving her home and all.”
“Well, this is the article I saw in the paper, Chani. They found the burned shell of a car. They proved it’s the car of the three civil rights workers. The FBI believes this was done by the KKK.”
“How horrible. Do you think the three young men are still alive?”
“We have to daven for them. The President sent the FBI and federal police to investigate. They’re trying their best to find them and to arrest the men who kidnapped them.”
“Once they catch them, then Tikvah won’t have to worry about those men looking for her anymore.”
“Yes, let’s hope this happens soon.”
The burned car sounded scary. It was so kind that they wanted to protect me, but I knew too much now to be protected. I needed to know the news. I needed to know when those criminals would be apprehended. Then my mother and father could come to get me. I recited a special prayer and slipped back into my bed.
To be Continued…
Susie Garber is the author of the newly released historical fiction novel, Flight of the Doves (Menucha Publishers, 2023), Please Be Polite (Menucha Publishers, 2022), A Bridge in Time (Menucha Publishers, 2021), Secrets in Disguise (Menucha Publishers, 2020), Denver Dreams, a novel (Jerusalem Publications, 2009), Memorable Characters…Magnificent Stories (Scholastic, 2002), Befriend (Menucha Publishers, 2013), The Road Less Traveled (Feldheim, 2015), fiction serials and features in Binah Magazine and Binyan Magazine, and “Moon Song” in Binyan (2021-2022).
