by Kathy Kacer
Sara nodded. She and Dot had dreamed of a wardrobe like Lorraine’s. Funny how this handout had come to Dot by way of the fire—just another example of some good coming out of the tragedy, she guessed. The girls were sitting in the pews, just the two of them. In the preceding couple of days, all the Little Ones had been farmed out, some to families, and some to temporary homes until more permanent placements could be found. The chapel seemed more cavernous than ever.
“Toni took off as soon as she had her meeting with Mrs. H.,” Dot said once they got down to talking about the Seven. “She headed straight for the road to catch a bus to Toronto. But Joe must have guessed that she was going to leave. He found her waiting by the side of the road and drove her to the bus stop in town.”
“Do you know what she’s going to do in Toronto?”
Dot shook her head. “That’s all I know. Joe might know more, but he isn’t saying much—keeping it all pretty close to the chest. You know Joe. He’d take a secret to his grave.” She paused. “Toni didn’t wait to say goodbye to any of us.”
“I know. I expected that of Tess, but not Toni. Do you think she said goodbye to Betty?”
“I’m sure she must have. Those two wouldn’t do anything without talking to the other.”
For a moment, the two girls retreated into silence. Dot had also told Sara that Betty had left the same day as Toni, bound for Kingston. Once again, there was no other information about what she was seeking. Even Dot herself was being quiet about her upcoming journey. She had returned to the church with an envelope similar to Sara’s, probably the one containing the $138 from Mrs. Hazelton, Sara guessed. But Dot also carried a man’s large double-breasted overcoat. Did that have something to do with her past? Sara didn’t ask and Dot didn’t offer up any information. That suited Sara fine. She was still trying to process everything that Mrs. Hazelton had told her. And apart from telling Dot about her upcoming trip, Sara wasn’t ready to talk too much about it. It was simply enough to know that the girls were going in separate directions, each one bound up in a personal journey.
“Looks like we’re going to be traveling after all.” Sara was the one to break the silence. She reminded Dot about their late-night conversation in the common room before the fire. “Do you remember when I said that I wanted to see New York or Paris?”
“And now you’re going to Germany! Now that’s a real trip. I’m just going to another small town.” Dot was heading north to a place called Buckminster. That much, Sara knew.
“You and I will get to Paris one day, Dot. I’m sure of it!”
“I don’t know,” Dot replied, blinking back tears. “I never thought I’d leave this place.”
“I don’t think many of us did. But let’s make a pact—you and me. We’re going to be famous dress designers one day.” Sara sat up in her pew, suddenly animated. “That’ll show Miss Webster and everyone back here in Hope. I know we can do it.”
Dot swallowed hard, unable to talk.
“And we’ll meet back here. One year from now. Let’s say, June 6.” The anniversary of the fire. Dot nodded and reached across the pew to grab Sara’s hand and squeeze it hard. That sealed the deal as far as Sara was concerned.
And that left Mrs. Hazelton. It was the goodbye that Sara was dreading most. But tracking the matron down was almost as difficult as finding her roommates. Immediately after meeting with the Seven, Mrs. Hazelton had left her cottage and moved to a quiet nursing home in Cartwright, a town about ten miles east of Hope. At first, Sara thought that might be it; she would never see the matron again. That thought had filled her with such despair. That’s when Mrs. Clifford had stepped in, magically appearing at the church as if she had had a premonition that Sara needed her help. She offered to drive Sara over to visit with Mrs. Hazelton, and Sara had not hesitated in taking her up on it. Sara found the matron sitting in a rocking chair on the porch of the nursing home, wrapped in a light shawl and reading a book.
“Joe brought me here,” Mrs. Hazelton explained. “He’s a good man.” She paused before continuing. “I don’t know how long I’ll need to be here, Sara. But I just knew I couldn’t stay at the cottage on my own any longer.” Mrs. Hazelton sighed and looked off into the distance. “My bad health was catching up with me, quicker than I had thought it would.”
Sara sensed how painful this admission was. Indeed, the matron was looking worse. Even though only a couple of days had passed since their last visit, Sara noticed that she seemed to have grown paler and had somehow shrunk before Sara’s eyes. The realization that Mrs. Hazelton needed help looking after herself was another blow. How sick was she? And with what? Did she have anyone in her life who would be able to care for her? Where would she go after the nursing home? Sara longed to ask these questions but knew it wasn’t her place.
“But I’m so glad you’ve come.” Mrs. Hazelton sat forward in her rocking chair and pulled the shawl tighter around her shoulders. “I had hoped you would visit.”
“I’m going to Germany,” Sara blurted out.
Mrs. Hazelton smiled as if this came as no surprise to her.
“Mrs. Clifford helped me find a travel agent to book my ticket.” Sara had had no idea how to make the flight arrangements, and after finally confessing the details of her trip to her boss, Mrs. Clifford had been only too happy to help.
“Mrs. Clifford is a good person,” Mrs. Hazelton replied. “I know how much she cares for you.”
The silence that followed echoed loudly in the still air.
“What if I can’t do this?” Sara finally said. She realized that she had no idea what she was doing. Up until that moment, she had existed in a small square of a town. Now, it was as if she had been shoved off the map of her life.
Mrs. Hazelton’s voice was calm. “There is no failure here, Sara, just discovery.”
“What if I need to get in touch with you? Can I call you?” She didn’t want to sound needy, especially when Mrs. Hazelton was dealing with her own ill health. But Sara could feel the panic twisting her up inside. She couldn’t control it any longer, couldn’t pretend that everything was fine. Her hands began to twist together, rubbing against one another in a slow circular motion.
“You won’t need me,” Mrs. Hazelton replied gently but firmly, leaning forward and pulling Sara’s hands apart. Her face was inches from Sara’s. “I’ve raised you to be independent and to rely on yourself—you and all my girls.”
“But what if I’m in trouble?” Sara had been cool and composed for long enough. This goodbye was taking her over the edge, crushing the air out of her lungs. She tried to take a deep breath, but it was no good. What was she thinking, running off to Germany of all places? She didn’t feel independent or self-reliant, as Mrs. Hazelton was suggesting. She was simply scared.
Mrs. Hazelton was talking again, her voice a soothing metronome bringing Sara back into her body and helping her breathe once more. “You know you can always write. And Mrs. Clifford will pass your letters on to me.” Sara nodded, not trusting herself to speak.
“And Sara, there’s one more thing. You’re a quiet girl, but I know you have a spirit that is fierce. Find a way to draw on that as you go forward. Don’t be led by that apprehension that burns deep inside of you. You may have been able to hide it from others, but not from me. It will help if you figure out where that comes from.”
Sara swallowed hard. “I’ll try, ma’am.” No one knew her as well as Mrs. Hazelton did. At least the matron was not giving her a lecture about Luke. She wouldn’t have been able to deal with that.
“This journey will be so good for you, Sara,” added Mrs. Hazelton. “Just remember what I told you about the importance of looking back. That will keep you going. I’m certain of it.”
Mrs. Hazelton reached over to hug Sara, who collapsed in her arms. “I’ll never forget you.” Sara’s voice was muffled against Mrs. Hazelton’s shoulder.
A quaver arose in the matron’s reply. “Nor I you.”
Eight
TH
E PLANE JOLTED and shook. Sara clutched the arms of her seat, her knuckles white and bulging. The captain had warned of a bumpy ride, but Sara hadn’t really known what to expect. She tightened her seat belt across her waist, lifted the blind from the window and gazed out at the mountain of clouds below. How does this massive piece of metal stay up in the air, she wondered, glancing over at the elderly man seated next to her. Just before takeoff he had crossed himself, twice! That had unnerved her as well. But now he was fast asleep—head back, mouth open, snoring loudly. His eyeglasses were perched on the tip of his nose, threatening to fall off if he moved an inch. Sara needed to get to the bathroom, but she wasn’t sure how to get past him without waking him up.
This was all so new to her—the flight, the turbulence, the confined seating. It was the first time she had ever flown—at least, as far back as she could remember. Maybe there had been a plane ride once before, years earlier, that had brought her to Canada and to the orphanage. But it was erased from her memory, as if it had never existed. She hadn’t slept on this flight and hadn’t eaten a thing. Her stomach was churning. She had to get to the bathroom!
The flight was bound for Munich, the city in the southern part of Germany that was closest to Föhrenwald, the DP camp. Once she landed in Munich, she would take a train southwest to the town of Wolfratshausen. Another strange name. Sara had taken to breaking down these difficult names, sounding them out and trying to simplify them. Wolf-rats-house-en. Not very appealing, she thought. The name made it sound as bad as Hope, only harder to pronounce! But it was also the last known address for Gunther Pearlman, the doctor who had signed the medical certificate that Mrs. Hazelton had given her. Wolfratshausen was therefore her destination. With Mrs. Clifford’s help, she had booked a return flight to Toronto in seven days. Not too much time to discover everything about where I came from, she thought wryly. But she figured it would have to be enough. Plus, that was about as far as her nest egg would take her—flights, somewhere to stay, food. Seven days had to do it.
In the bus, on the way to the airport, Sara had passed the sign on the other side of town.
You are now leaving Hope
Leaving Hope. She couldn’t help but smile at that ironic declaration. Was she really leaving hope behind, or was she going to discover it halfway around the world?
All this was new to her too—being on her own and having to make decisions about where she was going to stay and what she was going to eat. Most of those decisions had been made for her all her life—for her and the other six. At the thought of the Seven, Sara gripped her seat arms even tighter and leaned her head back against the headrest. She couldn’t think about the others too much; she would start to cry if she let her mind go there. But she couldn’t help wondering, if only for a moment, where her roommates were. She had tried to pry more information from Joe when she bumped into him after leaving Mrs. Hazelton’s nursing home. But, just as she thought, Joe was being quiet about the journeys of the other girls.
“Now Sara,” he had said, scratching at his chin and squinting at her, “I’m not about to tell any secrets. Joe knows when to keep his mouth shut. If the other girls want you to know where they’re goin’, they’ll likely get in touch with you themselves.” It was then that she had told him about her upcoming trip to Germany. Joe nodded as if he’d known this all along. “Sounds like you got enough on your plate without worrying about the others.”
“Have you ever been to Europe, Joe?” Sara asked.
“Europe?” Joe smiled as he peered at her, then laughed that deep, rumbling laugh of his. Sara was going to miss that. “Nah. I’ve traveled a bit around here but never anywhere that far. But I guess it’s going to be time for me to move on too.”
With the devastation at the orphanage, Joe had also lost his home. He had told Sara that he was going to be moving to Toronto.
“I’m stayin’ here in Cartwright for now. Just makin’ sure that Miz Hazelton is going to be okay. And then I’ll be gone.” He paused. “We’re all going exploring. Yup. That’s the truth, Sara. Some close, some far. You don’t have to go too far to be on a journey. That’s the truth too.”
Sara stared back at Joe. Even with little or no education, he was possibly one of the wisest men she knew. “I just want to know that everyone’s going to be okay.”
“You girls are all going to be fine. Miz Hazelton raised you right.”
And that was that. A quick hug and Joe had disappeared.
The man next to Sara inhaled sharply and coughed, sputtering and lurching forward in his seat. His eyes sprang open, and his glasses went flying. Sara gulped down a laugh and seized the opportunity. “Excuse me,” she said, pointing down the aisle toward the bathrooms. The man was groping around for his eyeglasses. Sara spotted them on the floor and bent forward to pick them up.
“Ah, tenk you,” he said in heavily accented English. “Toilet?” She nodded.
In the bathroom, Sara ran cold water across her palms. She had ground her hands so hard in the takeoff that she had rubbed some skin away from one of her fingers. The blister was raw and sore, and the cool water helped to ease the burn. Then she splashed some water on her face and stared at herself in the mirror. Her hair was a curly mess, and she pulled it back into a tight ponytail to get it off her face. Her blue eyes stared back at her as she wondered for the millionth time what she would find in Germany. She had the name of the doctor and an address. She didn’t have much else, except for the Star of David necklace, which was still around her neck but now more prominently displayed on the outside of her blouse. She toyed with it absently as she gazed at her reflection.
Sara had had one last conversation with Luke before she left town. She hadn’t meant to talk to him. She had figured it was over and it was best to leave it at that. But Luke had ambled into Loretta’s when Sara was there picking up an old suitcase that Mrs. Clifford had given her for the trip. They practically ran headlong into each other, and the sudden closeness sent shivers running up and down Sara’s spine. What is that? she asked herself. Anger? Nerves? Desire? What? In the last twenty-four hours, her resolve to leave him had wavered. Not a lot—just enough to upset her. Would she ever find anyone to love her? she wondered. Would she end up like Miss Webster, whom everyone called a spinster? Their teacher had never seemed very happy. Sara had even started wondering if Mrs. Hazelton had ever regretted not getting married.
“What are you doing here?” she blurted out. He was a bit puffy-faced and his eyes were tired, like he hadn’t been sleeping much.
Luke nodded toward the counter. “Coffee.”
Of course. I’m a ditz, she thought. Luke hadn’t come looking for her. Besides, why did she even care why he was there?
“You planning on leaving soon?” Luke indicated the suitcase.
“Umm, yes. Tomorrow, actually.” Sara placed the suitcase on the floor and rested her hand on her belly to stop the acrobatics that were going on inside of her.
Luke shuffled one foot in front of him, like he was trying to kick at some imaginary dust on the floor. “You know, I’ve been thinking,” he said. “I’m glad I ran into you here. You and me, we kind of got off on the wrong foot the other day. I didn’t want to fight with you, Sara. And I know you didn’t want to fight with me.” He reached out and rubbed the top of her arm lightly with the back of his fingers.
Sara inhaled sharply, and for just a moment she yearned for Luke’s hand to stay there. But then she quickly shrugged him off. Where was this going? Was Luke going to apologize to her? That would be a first!
“So…” He shuffled a bit more and then looked up. “Look, I don’t care if you’re a Jew or a Kraut or anything else. What are people going to think with you taking off like this? You should just forget this stupid trip and stay here with me.”
Sara stiffened. “What?”
“You heard me. I’m telling you to stay with me.” There was a long pause. Luke looked away and then back at Sara. And then he lowered his voice and added, “Please.”
He stood in front of her, waiting, a bit houndlike, shuffling and fidgeting. And in that moment, all of Sara’s torment and uncertainty melted away. Of course she had made the right decision in saying goodbye to him, and she was also certain that he would never understand that. He would never fully appreciate her or what she was embarking on. She was a conquest to him, and it had pricked his ego to be losing her. That much she was sure of. Strangely, she didn’t feel angry with him or even anxious, the way she usually did. She felt kind of sorry for him. It was a new feeling. His life was so narrow, and she realized how little he understood of people. When had she become so worldly?
“Come on, baby.” Luke leaned toward her. “Say something. People are staring at us.”
Sara looked around the diner. Sure enough, several of the customers had stopped eating. Forks and spoons hovered in midair. Dr. Blunt and his wife were at a table in one corner, and Reverend Messervey was seated at a booth across from them. Mrs. Riley was there, along with a couple of the other ladies from the church. They all had their eyes glued to the scene at the front of the diner, listening and waiting to see what was going to happen. Sara returned their gazes, evenly and assuredly. She turned to face Luke one last time. Then she picked up the suitcase. Silently, chin high in the air, she pushed past him and walked out of Loretta’s.
“Verehrte Damen und Herren—ladies and gentlemen, please return to your seats and fasten your seat belts as we begin our descent into Munich. We will be landing shortly.”
Sara was jolted out of her memories. Underneath her feet, the plane dipped and listed to the right. She rested the Star of David back on her chest and patted it lightly. It was time.