by Ann Alma
“Just read,” Uncle Fritz said, when Father looked at him.
My dearest family,
Now that I am over the shock of your disappearance, and Hans has told me that you are safely in Canada, I can write to you. At first I was angry that you didn’t take me with you, but I suppose your journey was too difficult for me at my age. I miss you all terribly.
The police sold your belongings and rented the apartment.
“What they didn’t steal for themselves first,” Mother said. Josie thought about how she had left her skates on her winter dress. Who used them now?
Much has changed here since you left. The government resigned. Many of them now have to answer for their actions. If you were here, Karl, you could publish your articles without any problems. You’ll be happy to know that your writer friend, Johann, was released from jail. It’s quite safe to send me letters. Did you know the Berlin Wall is coming down? Here are a few pieces of it, as a memento of the courage you’ve shown. I got it from your cousin Wilhelm, who went to West Berlin.
Father cleared his throat. He fingered the fragments of rock.
Write back soon, especially my Josie. Perhaps when you are settled, I might join you in Canada. We can leave more easily, now that the borders are finally open again. I love you all and think of you every day.
Mutti
Father cleared his throat again and put the letter down. Even though Mother had a smile on her face, her eyes were filled with tears. Josie rubbed her hands in excitement: Oma might join them!
For a short while it was quiet. Everyone let the good news sink in before they started talking politics.
Josie reread Oma’s letter. Strange how they had been forced to risk their lives to flee from their own country because the borders were closed, while now, a few months later, East Germans could easily travel to West Germany if they wanted to. Josie had never seen the wall other than in pictures, and now in her hand were pieces of the concrete that had held searchlights, machine guns, guard towers and barbed wire.
Josie turned her attention back to the adults’ conversation. Her uncle suggested that Mother might get a job as well, so they had enough money to move to an apartment in the city.
“You can’t stay here all winter,” he said. “It gets too cold, and we’ll have more snow soon.”
Josie hoped her parents would agree. Already it was hard for Father to get wood for the stove. The adults decided to go into the city together, first to look for a cheap apartment—Father said, “we’ll just check,”—then to drop him off at work. Uncle Fritz would help Mother look for a job while Josie went shopping with Aunt Beth.
“I’ll wash the dishes so we can leave,” Josie said. She couldn’t sit still any longer.
“Just leave them soaking in the tub.”
Mother never left dishes unwashed.
*
After searching for more than three hours, they found an apartment that wouldn’t be too expensive if Mother got a job. The place was old and dirty, above a corner store on a noisy street. The living room was not much bigger than the shed, but it also had a kitchen with a stove and a fridge. Josie noticed her mother’s eyes brightening when Uncle Fritz told them the landlord said they could rent it.
Josie would get the only bedroom. She would write Greta about it. Until today she hadn’t been allowed to write her because Father worried that Greta’s family might get into trouble if the police found out that they corresponded with escapees. But now, with the borders opened, she’d ask again.
Uncle Fritz paid a deposit. Mother took the keys, clutching them as if they were pure gold. Tomorrow they’d move.
They celebrated at the restaurant with tea and apple pie. Father explained that à la mode meant you got ice cream on your pie. Imagine two desserts at once!
Uncle Fritz dropped Josie off at his house before taking Mother on a job hunt.
Aunt Beth opened the door. “Come in.” Walking into the living room, her aunt held up a dictionary. “English-German,” it said. She searched through the pages and showed Josie “shop” in German.
“Yes, please.” Josie knew that word anyway.
“Christmas, Weihnacht,” Josie read next. She nodded.
“Presents.” Trying the new language on her aunt wasn’t nearly as scary as trying it at home. Aunt Beth clapped her hands and nodded.
“Yes, we’ll shop for Christmas presents. Your English is very good.” With the dictionary in her aunt’s purse, they walked arm in arm out of the house, just like with Oma.
The mall was crowded with shoppers. Josie was fascinated by all the Christmas decorations: pictures of Santa Claus, trees with real lights, stars, balls, bells, cookie houses, wrapped boxes with ribbons....
Aunt Beth took Josie’s hand. Leading her to a store full of chocolates, she chose several different kinds. Farther along, in a window, a paper sleigh with Santa and his reindeer flew back and forth on strings. Aunt Beth led Josie to a line of people and a big chair where Santa Claus sat by a camera. A woman in a green costume took pictures of him with the shoppers. Loud music played all around them.
“Picture Santa,” her aunt said, pointing.
“Yes.” Josie felt embarrassed. Why were adults so impressed with a man dressed up and taking pictures? Of course, getting presents was nice. In Canada that’s what Christmas meant to many kids, she’d learned at school. It wasn’t at all like that at home, where Father Christmas wasn’t in every store. People gave small gifts in East Germany too, but mostly they celebrated peace, by visiting with family or friends, lighting candles, singing and listening to concerts. Oma would be lonely this year. Where would she go? Who could she visit?
The photographer took their picture, and they continued down the mall. Josie walked along beside her aunt, eyes wide in amazement. If Greta could see this! But Josie knew that even if she explained the nervous excitement, the crowds and the noisy music in a hundred-page letter, her friend would never understand. Gasping, she pulled her arms closer when someone accidentally elbowed her in the ribs.
As they passed a shoe store Aunt Beth turned in. “For you,” she said. “A Christmas present.”
Spotting a bin of running shoes, Josie pointed to a white and blue pair. At home she had never had a choice: whatever the store had, or what relatives gave her, she accepted. She tried them on and, when they fit, her aunt paid for them.
They elbowed their way into a clothing store where her aunt bought them each a pair of jeans. Now she’d look more like everyone else, that is, if her parents would let her wear these to school.
Her aunt bought a TV for Uncle Fritz even though they already had one, more clothes for herself, and a telephone. They owned two phones already, one in the bedroom and one in the living room.
They walked by a sports store and Josie noticed a row of white skates on a rack. She saw Aunt Beth glance at her.
“What would you like for Christmas?” she asked.
She shrugged her shoulders. Her parents had taught her never to ask for presents and hadn’t her aunt bought her two presents already: shoes and jeans?
After some searching for the right words in the dictionary, her aunt said she wanted to help Josie buy presents for her parents as well. They ended up with a reading lamp, a set of towels, an English cookbook with measuring cups and bowls and a wallet. Loaded with bags and boxes they struggled home.
*
Josie closed the bedroom door behind her. For the first time in her life she had her own room: her very own door and walls. She walked to the window, opened it and looked out at snowflakes drifting down on the street below. Traffic waited for the light to change. A bus screeched to a halt. She closed the window, although the sounds didn’t bother her. It had been noisy in East Germany too.
Josie and Mother spent the next few days cleaning and rearranging the furniture. Uncle Fritz bought them a second-hand hide-a-bed. The couch opened up into a bed, so her parents could sleep on it. Josie still slept on a mattress on the floor, but her room
looked cheerful, with cushions Aunt Beth lent her and colourful pictures, including one of Katarina Witt.
The holidays passed quickly. They spent all of Christmas Day at Aunt and Uncle’s who ripped the paper as they opened their many presents and left a mess all over the living room floor. It seemed so wasteful. Josie and her parents saved all their paper, smoothing and folding each piece and carefully putting it aside.
When Josie opened her last present, from Uncle Fritz and Aunt Beth, her greatest wish came true! It was a large and fairly heavy box tied up with white ribbon. When Josie carefully lifted the lid she saw a brand new, shiny white pair of skates. She could hardly believe her eyes! Josie looked first at her parents and then at her aunt and uncle. Hugging the skates to her chest, she danced around the room.
Once the opening of presents was over with, they had a German stollen for lunch and turkey, sweet potatoes and fruit pudding. But they had no special German music or storytime while sitting around candles. Josie missed Oma.
A few days after Christmas Uncle Fritz took Josie to an indoor skating rink. She was surprised to learn that, even though she had not skated for many months, she had forgotten little. She zoomed round and round the slick surface and wanted to go to the arena every day. But Father refused because it cost money to skate at the indoor rink. There was no free outdoor rink near where they lived.
The holidays were almost over and school started again tomorrow. Josie put her new jeans on. She wished Mother would let her wear them to school. But when she had asked, Mother had said, “No, you have a nice dress to wear. Always look your best.”
Sitting down on the floor, Josie took out her ESL book and started reviewing the English words she’d learned.
“I’m leaving,” Father called. “Behave yourself; study hard.”
Josie, jumped up, ran out and kissed him.
“What will you do when we’re both at work?” Mother looked over her shoulder, then continued to mash the potatoes. Yesterday she had started her job as a chambermaid at a big hotel, leaving in the early afternoon and coming home late for supper.
“I’ll watch TV and study English,” Josie answered.
“A woman at the hotel has German books. Would you like to read one?”
“Maybe.”
“You always liked sports better than reading. Talk to your Uncle about skating.”
“He’s so busy at the garage.”
“Take the bus to Uncle Fritz’s house tonight.”
Mother had a funny smile on her face.
*
Uncle Fritz turned the TV off after the hockey game finished. Josie sat beside him on the couch.
“Do you like hockey?” her uncle asked.
“Yes, I like how they skate,” Josie said. She felt comfortable here; they always spoke German.
Uncle Fritz got up and took an envelope off a shelf. “Here. Your mother and I talked about it when I took her to work yesterday.”
Opening the envelope, Josie pulled out a piece of paper and a card. They both had English on them.
Uncle Fritz explained, “This is the address of an arena. It’s a few blocks from your school. Your mother and I paid for your skating lessons there, twice a week after school and on Saturday mornings.”
“Ahhhh!” she cried, throwing her arms around her uncle’s neck. “Danke! Danke!” She couldn’t think of anything else to say.
“This is the name and address of your coach, Monica. She teaches a group of girls about your age. Your father doesn’t know yet. You’ll have to tell him.”
He would be so angry! He’d forbid it. He had explained that lessons were too expensive and would take too much time away from her studies. She’d just go once, to see, before telling him.
NINE
Josie stood in front of the building marked “Arena” and another long word she couldn’t read. She had run here from school along the route Uncle Fritz had shown her and, even though the wind nipped at her, her hands were sweaty.
Trembling a little, Josie walked into the building. From farther down a long, dark hallway she heard men’s voices. Was she late? Would Monica get angry?
She took a few steps down the hall, then stopped, turned and ran back to the entrance, afraid that she might not know the right question, that she would forget how to speak English. Walking down the hall again, feeling as if she were going through the dark woods on the night of their escape, she warded off fear by practicing in her head, “Where is Monica?”
When she reached a door that stood ajar, she stopped. She saw a man with a shiny bald head sitting in a chair. The door opened and another man said “Hi.”
From among a clutter of skates, coats and other pieces of winter clothing he stared at her. Josie froze, forgetting her question.
“Hi, can I help you?” another man asked.
Josie swallowed. “Wo ist, where is Monica?”
“Monica?”
“Monica. Yes. Teacher,” she sputtered.
“Oh, you mean Monica Smith, the figure skating coach? She’s not here yet. She comes at 4:30.”
Josie hurried back to the front entrance. A clock around the corner said 3:50. Several people came in and out of the door, sweeping in gusts of cold air. A young woman, not much taller than Josie, walked up from the back hallway. She wore a training suit with a heavy, purple sweater and carried a bag.
“Hi, are you Josie?”
“Yes.”
“I’m Monica. They said you....”
“I do not understand. Speak slowly please,” Josie said, the way Mrs. Lang had taught her.
Monica sat down beside Josie and asked her about school, her English and her skating in East Germany. Josie had difficulty understanding the questions, but after a while words began to fit into phrases.
Monica explained that the group already had five girls and two boys, and that the others had skated together for the last few years. She hoped Josie would fit into the routine.
Following Monica to the bleachers, Josie put her skates on and glided around the arena, keeping away from a group of small children who were in the middle of a lesson.
“Good,” Monica said, turning. “Nice. Can you skate backwards?”
What was backwards? “I don’t know.”
“Like this.”
With Josie following her coach, they spent fifteen minutes skating, turning and going over different words.
Monica beamed. “Great. You’re athletic, and quite graceful on skates.”
After the small kids finished their lessons, a group of girls and boys around Josie’s age came onto the ice. Monica called them all together.
“This is Josie. She’s from East Germany.”
“Hi, Josie.” Trish, the dark-haired girl who had helped her at the water fountain on her first day of school, smiled.
“She goes to my school,” Trish said to Monica.
“Great. You can walk here together.”
For an hour and a half she was only aware of the ice, the group and their practice.
“If you work hard, you’ll easily pass the solo,” Monica said to Josie. “It’s in the spring.”
“What is a solo? What is spring?”
“You skate by yourself, for judges. If you get good marks, you pass. Spring is the end of our season.”
All by herself, like Katarina?
*
On Thursday Josie wondered if Trish would remember to wait for her. She hadn’t seen her since the skating lesson on Tuesday. Dawdling in the hallway, she looked around. Rosita, her dark hair in two braids, walked up. She held hands with another little girl.
“Hi Josie,” she said. “She is ESL too,” she told her friend, as the two skipped down the hall. Josie headed out the front exit and wandered across the playing field. Trish was nowhere in sight.
In East Germany she had Greta to skate with and there Father didn’t mind. She hadn’t seen her father at all these last few days. He was always either at work or studying.
“Josie, wait up.” Tr
ish hurried across the playground, her skate bag slung over her shoulder. “Hi. From now on let’s wait....”
“Speak slowly please. I do not understand.” Josie blushed. Trish wanted to walk with her, and Josie had talked to her in English, like she did with Mrs. Lang.
“Sorry. Let’s wait by that door and walk together on Tuesdays and Thursdays.” Trish waved her arms as she spoke slowly.
“Yes.”
“Don’t you have a skate bag? It’s hard to carry your skates like that when it gets cold.”
“No.”
“I have an old one. You want to use it?”
“Yes, thank you.”
While they walked down the street, Trish said, “Bob is in your class, isn’t he?”
“Yes.”
“Too bad for you. Everybody is afraid of him.”
Had she understood ? “You, eh, like Bob not?”
“No. Nobody likes him.”
“Ja, he is.” Josie felt less alone; Bob must have been mean to other students too.
When they reached the arena, Trish led the way to a room with tables and a snack bar.
“Want some hot chocolate? My treat.”
What was treat? “I have no money,” Josie said, hanging her skates on a chair.
“Hey, can’t you read?” The man behind the snack bar pointed to a sign.
“No skates on tables or chairs,” Josie read slowly.
Trish put the skates on the floor before she told the man behind the counter that Josie was from East Germany.
“Josie, this is Robert.”
“Hi, welcome to Canada.”
“Thank you.”
Walking over with two cups of chocolate, Trish put one in front of Josie.
“I cannot pay.” Josie felt her face go hot.
“My treat. Do you have homework? I always do mine here.” Trish took a math book from her bag.
“I have English lessons.” Josie’s face felt hotter.
“You can practice. You must be smart if you speak German and English. You speak better than I speak French. And I’ve studied French since grade two.”
They worked in silence until 4:25, then packed up and prepared to go on the ice.