by Anne Dublin
“I see.” The man narrowed his eyes. “You will guarantee she will not become the responsibility of the state?”
“Yes, of course,” said Mrs. de Pina.
“You must fill out a form,” he said, riffling through the papers on his desk. “Now where did I put it?” At last, he pushed a paper towards them. “Here it is,” he said. He pointed to the baby. “Whose baby is that?”
“She’s mine,” said Johanna, holding Rebecca tightly to her chest.
“And her papers? Where are they?”
“She … doesn’t have any,” said Johanna. “Our parents died, and I’m the only one she has left. Please ….”
Mrs. de Pina said, “She will be my responsibility as well. Give me the papers. I will sign for the baby, too.”
“Very well, then,” said the man, as he searched for another form. Mrs. de Pina sat down at a table nearby and filled out both papers. When she had finished, the man looked them over, stamped and signed Johanna’s papers, and handed them back to her. Johanna clutched them tightly in her hand.
The man smiled and said, “Welcome to the Netherlands.”
“Thank you!” said Johanna, breathing a sigh of relief.
They hurried outside the office to an area where carriages were waiting for passengers. “Come quickly,” said Mrs. de Pina. “It will be the Sabbath soon. We must get home before sunset.”
Mrs. de Pina hired a carriage and they settled into their seats. “Driver, take us to Jodenbreestraat, number 136.”
“Yes, ma’am!”
“And please hurry!”
Johanna breathed deeply until she felt her heart beating normally again. The baby had fallen asleep, her head on Johanna’s arm. Her diaper was wet, but Johanna didn’t want to disturb her. Besides, she felt so worn out, she could scarcely move.
“I do detest these border crossings,” said Mrs. de Pina, smoothing out her dress and re-tying the ribbons under her hat.
“Mrs. de Pina, did you mean it?” Johanna said. “About my working for you?”
“Yes, why not? I see you are good with children and skilful with your hands.” She paused. “I am grateful for your help during the crossing.” She put her hand on Johanna’s arm and smiled. “My dear, I am willing to try you out. That is, if you are willing to try me out!”
“Thank you. Thank you so much!”
“Then it is settled.” Mrs. de Pina looked sharply at Johanna. “Rebecca isn’t really your sister, is she?”
“No, but she is very precious to me.”
“I can see that.” Mrs. de Pina paused. “I believe it is time you told me the truth. Do you not agree?”
— Chapter Sixteen —
Haven
After Johanna had told her story, Mrs. de Pina peered at Johanna and sighed. “I see that you have had your share of troubles.”
“You don’t blame me for what I did?” Johanna said.
“Not at all,” said Mrs. de Pina. “There is much of myself I see in you.” She paused. “Enough said. You are in a new place, ready to begin a new life.”
Mrs. de Pina opened the curtains of the carriage and pointed. “Now, you must look at Amsterdam!”
Johanna felt close to tears as she gazed out the window at the most beautiful city she had ever seen. Sunlight touched the slate roofs, making them glow in shades of gold and amber.
The streets were filled with carts, wagons, and horse-drawn carriages, all jostling for space. Women carried shopping baskets and hurried along the sidewalks. Men at street corners talked animatedly about what Johanna assumed were business matters. Children ran about, playing tag or rolling hoops or bouncing balls.
“Everyone seems so busy!” Johanna said. “How many people live here?”
“About 100,000. Among them are over four hundred Jewish families.”
“So many! Where did they come from?”
“Most came from Spain and Portugal, after the Jews and the conversos were expelled over two hundred years ago. More recently, Jews have come from Germany, like you; others, from Poland.”
“What are ‘conversos’?” asked Johanna. Her heart beat with excitement as she tried to take in the sights of the city while listening to Mrs. de Pina.
“Jews who converted to Christianity, but still practised their religion in secret.”
“In secret?”
“They had to hide all religious practices, like lighting candles for the Sabbath or eating matzo on Passover. All the important events — births, bar mitzvahs, weddings, deaths.”
“I’ve never heard of them.”
Mrs. de Pina smiled. “In fact you have already met one.”
“I have?”
“That young man who helped you, Benjamin Mendoza, comes from a prosperous converso family.” When she heard Mendoza’s name, Johanna blushed. She hoped Mrs. de Pina didn’t notice.
“They have done very well for themselves. In fact, many Jews are shareholders in the East India Company. Of course, the most important point is that, since 1657, Jews have been allowed to become citizens of this country.”
“Citizens! Is it really true?”
“It certainly is.” Mrs. de Pina sighed. “It is like a miracle to live in a country where we can be treated fairly, and even have rights as citizens.”
The carriage made its way over several bridges and through the narrow, winding streets of the city. Everywhere Johanna looked, she saw patches of colourful flowers.
The carriage finally came to a stop. “Here we are. Home at last. And with an hour to spare before the Sabbath!”
They alighted from the carriage in front of a white, three-story house. Four steps led up to the main entrance. Other steps on either side of the door went down to a lower level. Johanna was amazed at how orderly and clean everything looked.
“Come along,” said Mrs. de Pina, as she pushed open a heavy oak door that led into a large entrance hall.
A tall, thin woman hurried over to them. “Welcome home, madam,” she said. “We were worried you wouldn’t make it in time.”
“I wasn’t sure myself. Thank God, we have arrived safely.” Beckoning to Johanna, Mrs. de Pina said, “I have brought someone with me. This is Fraulein Johanna Eisen, who accompanied me from Bremen with her baby, Rebecca.”
“How do you do?” the woman said.
“Fraulein Eisen, this is Mrs. de Groot, our housekeeper. I don’t know what I would do without her.”
Johanna curtsied. “I’m very glad to meet you.”
Mrs. de Groot took their hats and cloaks, and hung them on a coat tree in the entrance hall.
“Please arrange for our bags to be brought in. Then show Fraulein Eisen to a spare room,” Mrs. de Pina said. “She will be our guest for the Sabbath, after which she will begin to work here. And Mrs. de Groot?”
“Yes, madam?”
“Johanna will need warm water and some clean clothes for the baby.” Mrs. de Pina smiled. “I must have something that my children have outgrown.”
“I shall see to everything right away,” said Mrs. de Groot.
“Fraulein Eisen, we will call you when it is time to light the candles,” said Mrs. de Pina. “Now please hurry.”
“I will,” said Johanna. “And thank you.”
“Now, where are my children?!”
Mrs. de Groot left Johanna in a room on the third floor. It was plainly furnished with a four-poster bed covered with a quilt, an upholstered chair, and a small, inlaid writing table. The windows were hung with lace curtains and a worn Indian rug lay on the polished wooden floor.
Johanna put Rebecca on the bed and struggled to undress her. The baby was playing with her toes. “Rebecca, can you believe it? We’re in Amsterdam at last!”
A maid knocked on the door. She was carrying a large kettle of warm water. She poured the water into a basin on the washstand, placed clean towels and clothes on the bed, and left the room. Johanna gave Rebecca a bath, and changed her diaper and dress. Then she put Rebecca on the rug so she could wash h
erself and change her dress.
Using the bed as support, Rebecca tried to pull herself up to a standing position. But once she was standing, she didn’t know how to get down again. She fell hard on her bottom and began to wail.
Johanna rushed over to the baby, picked her up, and sat down on the chair. “Shh, Rebecca,” she crooned. “We’re safe now.”
The memories of her journey rushed through Johanna’s mind. She remembered the people who had helped her on the way. Tears of gratitude welled in her eyes.
Holding the baby, Johanna rummaged in her bag for her comb. Instead, she touched the lace kerchief Mama had given her. She inhaled its faint fragrance and tucked it into her skirt.
There was a knock on the door. “Fraulein Eisen?” said Mrs. de Groot.
Johanna opened the door. “Yes?”
“Everyone is waiting. Please come down at once.”
Before leaving the room, Johanna paused. Holding Rebecca tightly, she whispered, “Dear baby, you will grow up to be strong in this new land. And God willing, I will soon bring Mama here. We will make a new life for ourselves. We shall be free.”
Johanna straightened her back and breathed deeply. She walked down the stairs to welcome the Sabbath day of rest and peace.
Acknowledgements
Thank you to writers and friends who gave suggestions, large and small, to help this book move from a small idea to the finished book: Rona Arato, Meryl Arbing, Rochelle Carrady, Peter Carver, Sharon MacKay, Mark Mazer, Judy Nisenholt, Michael Posluns, Linda Pruessen, Tom Sankey, Judy Saul, Liliane Schacter, Kathy Stinson, Sydell Waxman, Lynn Westerhout, and Frieda Wishinsky.
And thank you to experts who provided insights into the life and times of Germany and the Netherlands in the 1700s: Corey Keeble, Curator of European decorative arts, arms and armour, and sculpture, World Cultures, Royal Ontario Museum, Toronto; Wiebke Müller, Librarian, Museum für Hamburgische Geschichte, Hamburg; Doctor Yuval Shaked, The Feher Jewish Music Center, Beth Hatefutsoth, The Nahum Goldmann Museum of the Jewish Diaspora, Tel Aviv; Michael Simonson, Archivist, Leo Baeck Institute, New York; Doctor Barry D. Walfish, Judaica specialist, Thomas Fisher Rare Book Library, University of Toronto Library, Toronto.
Of course, final thanks go to the hardworking, professional staff at Dundurn Press who showed kindness and expertise throughout the process: Michael Carroll, Nicole Chaplin, and Courtney Horner.
Copyright © Anne Dublin, 2012
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise (except for brief passages for purposes of review) without the prior permission of Dundurn Press. Permission to photocopy should be requested from Access Copyright.
Editor: Nicole Chaplin
Design: Courtney Horner
Epub Design: Carmen Giraudy
Library and Archives Canada Cataloguing in Publication
Dublin, Anne
The baby experiment [electronic resource] / Anne Dublin.
Type of computer file: Electronic monograph.
Issued also in print format.
ISBN 978-1-4597-0136-6
I. Title.
PS8557.U233B33 2012 jC813’.6 C2011-906005-1
We acknowledge the support of the Canada Council for the Arts and the Ontario Arts Council for our publishing program. We also acknowledge the financial support of the Government of Canada through the Canada Book Fund and Livres Canada Books, and the Government of Ontario through the Ontario Book Publishing Tax Credit and the Ontario Media Development Corporation.
Care has been taken to trace the ownership of copyright material used in this book. The author and the publisher welcome any information enabling them to rectify any references or credits in subsequent editions.
J. Kirk Howard, President
www.dundurn.com
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