The Sound of Freedom

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The Sound of Freedom Page 1

by Kathy Kacer




  The Sound

  of Freedom

  K A T H Y K A C E R

  © 2017 Kathy Kacer

  Cover art by Félix Girard

  Cover design by Kong Njo

  Edited by Barbara Berson

  Designed by Kong Njo

  Annick Press Ltd.

  All rights reserved. No part of this work covered by the copyrights hereon may be reproduced or used in any form or by any means—graphic, electronic, or mechanical—without the prior written permission of the publisher.

  We acknowledge the support of the Canada Council for the Arts and the Ontario Arts Council, and the participation of the Government of Canada/

  la participation du gouvernement du Canada for our publishing activities.

  Cataloging in Publication

  Kacer, Kathy, 1954-, author

  The sound of freedom / Kathy Kacer.

  Issued in print and electronic formats.

  ISBN 978-1-55451-970-5 (hardcover).–ISBN 978-1-55451-969-9 (softcover).–

  ISBN 978-1-55451-972-9 (PDF).–ISBN 978-1-55451-971-2 (EPUB) I. Title.

  PS8571.A33S68 2017

  jC813'.54

  C2017-905812-6

  C2017-905813-4

  Published in the U.S.A. by Annick Press (U.S.) Ltd.

  Distributed in Canada by University of Toronto Press.

  Distributed in the U.S.A. by Publishers Group West.

  Printed in Canada

  Visit us at: www.annickpress.com

  Visit Kathy Kacer at kathykacer.com

  Also available in e-book format. Please visit www.annickpress.com/

  ebooks.html for more details.

  To Maya and Elisheva –

  a new generation.

  And for Gabi and Jake –

  with love as always.

  —K.K.

  “There are two possibilities for me: To win through with all my plans, or to fail.

  If I win, I shall be one of the greatest men in history.

  If I fail, I shall be condemned and despised.”

  —Adolf Hitler1

  “One has to build a fist against anti-Semitism.

  A first class orchestra will be this fist.”

  —Bronislaw Huberman2

  Chapter

  1

  “Last one to the bakery has to pay,” shouted Anna,

  bolting down the street.

  “Wait, you didn’t warn me,” her friend Renata

  yelled before dashing after her.

  The two girls raced, pigtails flying, through the

  streets of Krakow, on their way home from school.

  Anna thought she was comfortably in the lead until she glanced over her shoulder and realized that Renata was right on her heels. At the last second, Renata sprinted ahead of her and rounded the corner, coming to a

  stop in front of Mrs. Benna’s bakery shop.

  “Not fair,” Anna said a moment later as she pulled

  up. She was panting heavily, and even though the air was cold and the wind was biting, she could feel the sweat rolling down her back under her heavy jacket.

  1

  2

  K A T H Y K A C E R

  “What do you mean, not fair?” Renata replied. Her

  cheeks were flushed from the run. “It was your idea.

  And I’ll have my donut filled with chocolate, please.”

  Anna raised her arms in defeat and entered the

  bakery with Renata. They quickly found a table and

  ordered their sweets.

  Stopping at Mrs. Benna’s shop on the way home

  from school was a Tuesday afternoon tradition for

  the two girls. Tuesdays were when Anna’s father

  gave music lessons at their house. He was a gifted

  clarinetist who played in the famous Krakow

  Philharmonic Orchestra and lectured at the music

  academy. Many families in town lined up to send

  their children to learn to play clarinet from Anna’s father, the renowned Avrum Hirsch. So on Tuesdays,

  Anna had permission to stay out after school with

  Renata—that is, as long as the two of them also got

  some homework done.

  “You have icing sugar all over your face,” Anna

  said after she and Renata had polished off their treats.

  “Do I?” Renata reached up to brush the sugar and

  crumbs away. “It’s so good. I could eat donuts filled with chocolate all day long.”

  “Agreed! Except that I’ll take mine filled with

  strawberry preserves.”

  At that, Renata made a face. “Nothing is better

  than chocolate.”

  The Sound of Freedom

  3

  Anna pushed her plate aside and pulled out

  her notebook. Mrs. Benna never minded when the

  girls came to her shop after school. “You set a good example for other young people who walk in here,”

  the shopkeeper said. As long as no one was lining

  up for their table, Mrs. Benna said they could stay as long as they wanted.

  Anna flipped through the pages of her math

  assignment and chewed on the end of her pencil. “I

  don’t know how I’d get through math without you,”

  she said, looking up at Renata.

  “You’re just as smart as I am,” Renata replied. “Just in different subjects. I’m better with numbers, but

  you’re the one who helps me with literature.”

  Anna and Renata had been great friends for years,

  ever since they started school, spotting each other

  across the classroom and exchanging smiles. They

  met each weekday morning at Anna’s corner to walk

  together to school. Now, at age twelve, they were as close as sisters. Baba, Anna’s grandmother, always

  said they could have been twins with their jet-black curly hair and dark eyes. But when it came to their

  studies, they were as different as they could possibly be. Anna loved to read while Renata could untangle a math equation faster than anyone in the class. Anna

  loved art while Renata always claimed she had ten

  thumbs when it came to drawing or painting. Anna

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  K A T H Y K A C E R

  loved music, and even though Renata took clarinet

  lessons from Anna’s father, she hated to practice.

  Anna always reasoned that the differences between

  them were what made them great friends—comple-

  ments of each other and a perfect team. One couldn’t manage without the other to help. Today was no

  exception. The girls finished off their homework in

  record time.

  “Will you come over to my place?” Anna asked as

  they began to pack up their books. “Baba is making

  her famous beef stew.”

  “Sounds delicious!”

  “And maybe she’ll give us a cooking lesson.”

  Anna’s grandmother loved to cook.

  Renata nodded. “Sure. My mother will be thrilled

  that I’m learning. She can barely make a cup of tea.”

  “It can’t be that bad!”

  “Trust me, it is. Last week, she burnt the chicken

  and served rice that was still as hard as gravel. I need all the help I can get.”

  “I’m sure Baba will be happy to include you. And

  then, when we’re done, you can help me find a dress

  to wear to that concert that my father is playing in.”

  That was another difference between the two girls.

  Renata loved to dress up w
hile Anna didn’t give a

  thought to fashion and “girly” things. Baba was the

  The Sound of Freedom

  5

  one who always insisted that she wind hair ribbons

  around her long pigtails, or wear fancy dresses. Anna found all of that so tiresome.

  “You can borrow my scarf,” Renata said, tugging

  at the bright green silk that stood out against her

  shiny coal-black eyes. “It’ll be perfect with just about anything in your closet.”

  Just then, the bell above the door to the bakery

  shop rang and a group of boys entered. Anna recog-

  nized them from school, though she didn’t have much

  to do with them. They were older and a couple of

  grades ahead. And they usually kept to themselves—

  that is, unless they were going after the weaker kids at school. They had that nasty reputation. Lately, they seemed to be targeting Jewish kids. Another boy from their school had been chased home by one of these

  boys. Everyone was talking about it. The bully threw rocks at the younger boy and shouted terrible insults.

  Anna and Renata looked at each other nervously.

  Both of them were Jewish, and they knew that it was

  better to stay away from these boys.

  The boys were jostling one another and talking

  loudly. One pounded his fist on the counter and

  demanded, “Hey, we need some service.”

  Mrs. Benna approached from the other side of

  the shop. Her eyes flashed and her mouth narrowed

  6

  K A T H Y K A C E R

  into a thin line. “There will be none of that in my restaurant,” she said sternly. “If you don’t show better manners, then I want you out of here.”

  The boy who had banged on the counter took

  a step toward Mrs. Benna. He was just about to say

  something when one of his friends grabbed him by

  the arm. “Come on. Let’s find somewhere else to go.

  This isn’t worth it.”

  And with that, the boys turned and left. Anna ex-

  haled a long, deep breath and shuddered.

  “Those boys give me the creeps,” Renata said.

  Anna nodded, a knot settling in the pit of her

  stomach. And it wasn’t just the boys that made her

  nervous. They were simply a reminder of the other

  troubles that seemed to be descending on her city

  of Krakow and across all of Poland. Lately, she had

  heard stories of Jewish people being attacked on the streets, pushed off the sidewalk and made to walk in the gutter, or forced to pick up garbage. At first, the victims were the most observant Jewish men, those

  with long beards, full-length coats, and bowler hats.

  They stood out and were easily targeted. But more recently, the violence had spread to the general Jewish community—people not unlike Anna and Renata.

  Her baba had said that everything changed when

  Adolf Hitler came to power in Germany. She cal ed him a maniac and said he’d made everyone feel unsafe.

  The Sound of Freedom

  7

  “My parents have been talking a lot about what’s

  happening to Jewish families,” Renata was saying.

  “The attacks, the name calling. They’re afraid those things are only the beginning.”

  “The beginning of what?” Anna put her coat on

  and grabbed her bag of books.

  Renata shook her head.

  “I don’t think anything worse is going to hap-

  pen,” Anna continued, although what her friend

  said was making her even more anxious now. And it

  didn’t help that when they were thanking Mrs. Benna

  and saying good-bye, the shopkeeper leaned closer

  and said, “I’d stay away from those boys if I were

  you. One at a time, they’re a nuisance. But a group of them …”

  She didn’t finish the sentence. And Anna didn’t

  want to hear any more. She linked her arm in Renata’s and pulled her out of the bakery shop. Outside, Anna flipped her thick-braided pigtails off her shoulders, pulled her knitted cap down on her head, and lifted

  the collar of her coat up around her ears. She needed to steer the conversation to a better place. “My father might still be teaching when we get to my house. So

  we’ll have to be really quiet until his student leaves.”

  Renata remained silent.

  “Are you okay?” Anna asked, turning to look at

  her friend.

  8

  K A T H Y K A C E R

  Renata still looked troubled. “Those boys …”

  “Don’t be afraid of them, Renata,” Anna said,

  mustering more certainty than she was feeling. The

  girls were passing through the Jewish quarter of

  Krakow, where the streets pulsed with activity. This was familiar territory: the old synagogue Anna and

  her family attended for the high holidays on her right, restaurants that overflowed with patrons up ahead,

  and the market where Baba bought fruit and vege-

  tables just around the corner.

  “It’s just that my parents keep listening to the news reports from other countries,” Renata continued.

  “And the news isn’t good. Even Mrs. Benna warned

  us to be careful.”

  “She just meant those boys. And we will.”

  “I suppose you’re right,” Renata replied. Then

  she shook her head as if she were trying to clear any nasty thoughts away. “I hope your grandmother has

  a couple of extra aprons. I like to make a mess when I cook.”

  Anna laughed and the two girls continued to

  wind their way home. Nothing terrible had hap-

  pened, Anna thought, allowing herself to relax. And

  soon, she and Renata would be home and cooking

  with Baba. That was the last thought she had before

  she suddenly saw them again.

  Chapter

  25

  2

  Anna yanked Renata’s arm closer and pulled her to

  an abrupt stop. “Look!” She pointed ahead.

  The boys from the bakery were emerging from

  Mr. Kaplansky’s butcher shop, the place where Baba

  shopped for their meat. The butcher was a sweet man

  with a kind smile who had always had a candy for

  Anna when she accompanied her grandmother to

  his store. The boys were laughing and shoving one

  another. “You stay right there, old man,” one of them called over his shoulder. “We’re just going to do a

  little redecorating out here.”

  The anxiety Anna had felt earlier suddenly swelled

  once more. Something told her that they couldn’t get in the middle of whatever was happening up ahead.

  Perhaps if they didn’t move, they wouldn’t be seen.

  She gripped Renata’s arm more tightly.

  9

  10

  K A T H Y K A C E R

  One of the boys carried a small tin in one hand.

  In the other hand, he held a paintbrush. Had he been holding those things when they were in Mrs. Benna’s

  store? Anna couldn’t remember. While the boy’s

  friends stood and watched, he dipped the brush in

  the tin and began to paint on the large window

  in front of Mr. Kaplansky’s store. He painted big,

  black strokes—up, down, and across, while his friends egged him on. A moment later, he stood back. There

  on the store window was a giant Star of David. “Don’t stop!” another boy demanded. “Finish it off!”

  Anna and Renata remained glued to their spot.

  Behind her collar, A
nna’s face had grown hot.

  Suddenly, she spied Mr. Kaplansky staring at the boys from his doorway. His eyes were dark and angry. One

  of the boys spotted him and shouted, “Hey, we told

  you to stay inside.” The butcher quickly ducked back into his shop.

  Anna glanced around. Why doesn’t someone do

  something? she wondered desperately. The street had become strangely quiet, and those few people who

  were out hurried by, burying their faces into their

  jackets and scarves.

  Just then, Anna spotted Constable Zabek, the

  police chief, approaching from around the corner.

  His daughter Sabina also attended Anna’s school.

  Finally! Anna breathed a sigh of relief. Help had

  The Sound of Freedom

  11

  arrived. Constable Zabek was a portly man, and the

  front of his uniform was pulled tight across his round belly, the buttons threatening to pop. The police chief strolled over to Mr. Kaplansky’s store and took a long look at the scene in front of him. But instead of doing anything, instead of shouting at the boys to stop, or driving them off, or even arresting them, the police chief simply stood next to Mr. Kaplansky’s shop with his hands clasped behind his back. He had a small

  smile on his face and watched everything that was

  happening with a detached kind of curiosity, as if he were watching a crowd of children in the playground.

  The boys continued to jeer. “Finish it. Finish it.

  FINISH IT!” Each chant grew louder than the one be-

  fore. And as they repeated this refrain, the boy with the paint can dipped his brush once more and then

  painted a slow, thick X through the Star of David.

  His message was clear. Jews were not wanted here.

  Constable Zabek looked over at Anna and Renata,

  who were still frozen. He pulled himself to his fullest height. “You’re not here to look at the view,” he

  bellowed. “Move on!”

  That was all it took. Anna and Renata grabbed

  hands, and together they ran. It was only when they

  reached the corner, close to their houses, that Renata pulled free and faced Anna.

  “I’m going home,” she said.

  12

  K A T H Y K A C E R

  “But I thought you were coming over.”

  “Not now. I can’t. I need to go home. I’m sorry,

  Anna.”

  And with that, Renata took off in the opposite

  direction. Anna felt another chill surround her as

  she turned and headed for home.

 

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