by Kathy Kacer
weeks earlier. She sucked in her breath. Her grip
tightened on the flowers that she was still holding in one hand. Papa stiffened and instinctively stepped
in front of her. As she peered around from behind
his back, Mr. Zaleski turned and followed their gaze.
He called out to the young men. “What do you want
here? This building is closed for the weekend.”
The four of them paused, swaying slightly as they
stood in the middle of the corridor. One, the tallest of the group, replied, “We thought we might catch a few Jews in here. Isn’t that one standing behind you?”
From the way they were slurring their words,
Anna was certain they were drunk.
Mr. Zaleski placed his hands on his hips, filling
the hallway with his bulk. “Get out of here,” he
said loudly and with authority. “This is no place for hooligans like you.”
The thugs did not move. The tall one spoke once
again. “Look,” he said as he threw his arm around the shoulder of one of his partners. “The Jew is hiding
behind an old janitor. He’s a coward, just like all
of them.”
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Anna felt her father step forward. No one would
ever call him a coward. And at that very same
moment, the thugs began to walk briskly toward
them, fists clenched and raised in the air. Panic dug into Anna’s heart. She imagined that in another
minute, she and her father would find themselves on
the floor and cowering under the thrashing that these young men were about to dole out. They wouldn’t care that her father was a respected musician or that she was a child. Closer and closer they came, narrowing
the space in between them. She could hear them
grunting; she could see the scowls on their faces; she could almost smell their rage. Twenty steps more,
then ten, then five. She braced herself and was just about to cover her face with her hands for protection when Mr. Zaleski turned toward her and Papa. He
grabbed Anna with one arm and Papa with the other,
practically lifting them off their feet. The flowers that Anna had been carrying fell to the floor. Without a
word, Mr. Zaleski shoved Anna and her father into
the broom closet. The door slammed behind them
and they were immediately enveloped in darkness.
Anna heard a key turn in the lock.
A second later, she heard pounding on the door.
Someone jiggled the handle and called out, “Come
out, Jews. Or are you too afraid?” The voice taunted them.
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Anna pressed up as close to her father as she could
get, afraid that the thugs would force the door open.
Papa encircled her with one arm and squeezed her
against his side until she almost cried out in pain.
In the darkness, she couldn’t see his face, but from the trembling of his hand, she knew that he had to
be feeling scared too. And as terrified as she was for their safety, she was equally afraid for Mr. Zaleski.
She couldn’t hear his voice on the other side of the door. Had these horrible young men hurt him? She
remembered what he had said about taking on a mob.
Even with his strength and size, how could he pos-
sibly fend off four people?
And then she heard talking, snatches of conversa-
tion, and she leaned up close to the door to be able to hear what was being said on the other side. The first thing she heard was Mr. Zaleski’s voice.
“Why hurt a child?” he was saying, obviously try-
ing to calm the men down. “There are bigger fish in
the sea.”
There was a muted response that Anna couldn’t
make out, and then, what sounded like a scuffle. She heard a thud as if someone had fallen to the ground
and more angry voices grunting and snorting. She
wasn’t sure, but she thought she heard someone say,
“Take that!” And then another voice demanded,
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“Where’s the key?” The muffled grunts and thumps
continued for several more minutes. And then there
was silence. The fighting seemed to have stopped, and a moment later, footsteps receded down the hall. Still, Anna and her father remained in the broom closet,
pressed against each other for what felt like forever.
Neither one of them spoke. Anna leaned closer to the door, and finally, she heard another set of footsteps, softer this time. A key turned in the lock. She held her breath as the door squeaked open. Mr. Zaleski
was standing on the other side.
His face was ghostly white, except for an angry
red welt just under one eye. His hands that held the key were shaking so much the keys were jingling.
“They’ve gone,” Mr. Zaleski said. His voice
trembled almost as much as his hands.
Anna and her father tumbled out of the broom
closet and Anna rushed toward the janitor. “Are you
all right? Did they hurt you?” She was shaking from
head to toe, and realizing how close she and Papa had come to being beaten … or worse! And Mr. Zaleski
had been the one to save her, again! It was taking
all of her control to keep herself from breaking down in tears.
Mr. Zaleski reached up to touch his eye, gently
probing around his cheek and forehead. “They just
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needed to hit someone—blow off some steam. I’m
fine. No need to worry, Miss Hirsch,” he added when
he saw Anna’s stricken face. “This time, I got in a few punches myself.”
“Shall we call your wife?” Papa asked. “Shall we
walk you home? Or to the doctor?”
Mr. Zaleski shook his head. “No, please, I’m quite
fine.” He touched the welt again. “This will be gone in a few days.”
“Well at least come and sit down.” Papa tried to
take Mr. Zaleski by the arm and lead him into his
office, but the janitor would have none of it. No matter what they said, Mr. Zaleski would not accept any help from them.
“How we can thank you for saving us?” Papa
asked hoarsely.
Mr. Zaleski lowered his hand from his face and
stared at Anna and her father. “Please, go home,
Mr. Hirsch,” he said. “And you too, young miss. The
streets are not a good place for you. You can thank
me by staying safe.”
Anna glanced down at her feet. The beautiful
crocuses she had picked earlier that day were lying
on Mr. Zaleski’s polished floor, crushed and broken
in the skirmish that had taken place. Papa took Anna by the hand, and together, they walked out of the
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building. When they were on the street, Anna pulled
her father’s arm and he turned to look at her.
“It’s time, Papa,” she said. “You can’t say no any-
more. We’ve written to Mr. Huberman—Baba and
me—and asked for an audition into his orchestra for
you. We need to leave.”
Papa stared long and hard at Anna. Finally, he
nodded his head and the two of them marched in
silence, placing one foot in front of the other until they arrived at home and walked in the door. Baba
was waiting for them, and she eyed them up and
down as if she knew something terrib
le had just
happened.
“I told him,” Anna blurted out. “I told Papa that
we wrote to Mr. Huberman.”
At that, Baba placed one arm around Anna’s
shoulders and the other on Papa’s arm, pulling them
close to her as if to say that they were all in this together. She had a determined look in her eyes that Anna had never seen before. Papa stared back, first at Anna, and then at Baba. Then he simply said, “I hope we hear from him soon.”
Chapter
13
When Mr. Huberman’s invitation for Papa to
audition finally arrived, Anna felt a surge of joy
that she had not felt in some time. The audition was being held in the city of Warsaw, which was quite far from Krakow, many miles away. The train ride would
take over three hours. Anna begged Papa to let her go with him, desperate to hear her father audition and
hoping to catch a glimpse of this Mr. Huberman, who
was going to get them out of Krakow to make a new
home in this country called Palestine. Papa wasn’t so sure about taking her, but Anna had persisted, and he finally gave in. They would have to leave at the crack of dawn.
As eager as she was to go, Anna was also nervous
about taking the train. After the encounter with the 88
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89
thugs at the music academy, she worried that some-
one on the train might also harass them. But in the
end, the train ride was uneventful, and after several sleepy hours, they arrived in Warsaw and made their
way to the National Theater concert hall.
This was the second time that Anna had been to
this theater. Her father had brought her here once
before to listen to a concert he was playing in along with the Krakow orchestra. Papa had gotten Anna
and Baba seats in the balcony. And even though it was close to the back of the theater and far from the stage, Anna hadn’t minded. She went to all of Papa’s concerts. He usually performed at the Juliusz Slowacki
Theatre—the grandest theater in all of Krakow. And
even if she sat in the very last row and couldn’t see over the tall hats of the women who dressed to the
nines, she still heard it all. That was the most im-
portant thing. The sounds were enough to create
all kinds of images in Anna’s mind. Sometimes the
music swelled and it reminded her of a storm blowing through the city. Other times the notes were as soft and as light as butterflies floating on air. And occa-sionally, the sound was as playful as a litter of
kittens. She could close her eyes and imagine all of that and more. That was the best thing about going
to a concert. It was the listening.
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Anna and her father entered the concert hall and
were directed to a room behind the stage that had
been reserved for the musicians, many of whom were
already there tuning up. Anna guessed there had to
be over a hundred performers holding oboes, trum-
pets, basses, cellos, and violins. She gulped as she looked around. Anna believed that her father was one of the finest performers in the country. But she hadn’t realized how many others also wanted to use this
opportunity to get out of Poland. There was so much
riding on this chance. What if this Mr. Huberman doesn’t choose Papa? What will happen to us then?
“Anna,” Papa said, as he began to unpack his
clarinet. “You will wait for me here while I go onstage to play for Mr. Huberman.”
What? “But I thought I could come with you and listen. I’ll be quiet as can be.”
Papa shook his head. “I’m afraid that only the
musicians are allowed in the concert hall.”
The frustration exploded inside of Anna. What
was she supposed to do while he went onstage? Pace
this room from side to side and wonder what was
happening? Their fate would be decided inside the
theater, and she wouldn’t even get to be there to
witness it. This is so unfair!
At that moment, Anna noticed a boy about her
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age who was sitting in a chair off to the side. He was the only other young person in the room, and she
decided it was the perfect opportunity to try and
make a friend. He might have some information
about the audition process and what to expect. Papa
looked so nervous that she didn’t want to bother
him by asking too much. Instead, she walked up to
this boy and he rose from his seat. They gazed at
each other, sizing each other up. He was taller than her by about a half a head. His arms and legs were
long and awkward, as if they had grown too fast for
his body. His hair was orange, the color of autumn
leaves, and he had freckles across his nose to match.
His glasses hid eyes that were a deep green.
“We play the trumpet,” he said, breaking the
silence. He pointed to his father, a rather stern-
looking, tall man with a perfectly trimmed beard,
and the only other person in the room with orange
hair. He was blowing easy runs on his instrument.
How odd that this boy had said “we” as if he were also auditioning. And he sounded so solemn, especially
when she compared him to Stefan, who was always
kidding around. She wondered if this boy was any
good on the trumpet or whether he would sound like
one of the animals in her father’s barnyard student
orchestra.
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“Clarinet,” Anna replied, pointing to her father.
He was pacing in a circle, round and round. That
only happened when he was about to face something
really important. The sight of Papa looking so
anxious brought a chill down Anna’s spine.
“I’m Eric Sobol.” The boy bowed slightly in her
direction. Anna stifled a giggle. He was so proper
and formal—and dressed in a suit and tie. Mind you,
Baba had insisted that Anna also wear her best dress that was reserved for special occasions, with the shiny black shoes that always pinched her toes. “If Mr.
Huberman sees you, he will know that we are a good
family,” Baba had said. At the last minute, Anna had added the green scarf that Renata had given her—a
good-luck charm, she hoped!
Anna introduced herself and said that they had
come from Krakow.
“We live here in Warsaw,” Eric replied.
“What is it like here?” asked Anna.
Eric tilted his head to one side as if he didn’t
understand the question. “It’s fine, I guess.”
“No, I mean …” How to explain this? Anna took a deep breath and started again. “In Krakow, there
have been some … things that have happened. You
know, Jews have been picked on and treated badly—
even some of my friends.” She wasn’t ready to tell this boy about what had happened to her and Papa at the
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academy. “It’s because of things like that that we want to leave—to go to Palestine with this new orchestra.
That’s why we’re here. So I’m just wondering what it’s been like in Warsaw.”
A look of understanding passed over Eric’s face.
“Yes, of course, the same things are happening here.
My friend was told to get off the
tram because some
passengers didn’t want to ride next to a Jewish boy.
He wanted to tell them to shove off, but he was afraid they’d gang up on him. So he got off and had to walk for miles.” Eric paused and gestured around the
room. “I imagine we’re all here for the same reason.
We all want to leave Poland.”
“Do you know what our parents are going to have
to do in this audition?”
Eric shrugged. “They’re going to have to play like
they’ve never played before.”
Anna stared at Eric. There was something about
him—the curiosity on his face, the honesty of his
response. Anna needed a friend. Besides, he was the
only person of her age who was there. So that already made him an ally.
“I know how we can sneak into the theater and
listen to the auditions,” Eric suddenly said.
“Pardon me?” Papa had told Anna that she would
have to stay in the practice room. But Eric was
offering her something that sounded like a better
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plan, something daring. Perhaps he wasn’t as proper
as she had thought.
“Are you game?” he asked.
The musicians were lining up, ready to go into the
theater for their auditions. Papa signaled in Anna’s direction, holding up his hand as if to tell her to wait there for him. She nodded and watched him go out
the door. Then she turned back to Eric. “I’ll follow you,” she said.
Chapter
14
Eric led Anna out of the practice room, taking an
abrupt right turn and leading her through a door
that she hadn’t even noticed. They descended a stair-case and she found herself in a maze of passages and open doors, each one becoming narrower and darker.
Anna felt a flicker of worry igniting inside, growing brighter with every turn into every hallway that Eric was taking. “Are you sure you know where you’re
going?” she asked, struggling to keep up.
“My father has played in this theater many times,”
he said over his shoulder. “This is how I get to watch him.”
They continued turning this way and that until
Anna felt as if they had just gone in a dozen circles and she had completely lost her sense of direction.
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