No One Must Know (4 page)

“You’ll find lots of bargains here,” she said in greeting.
Then she peered at me intently. “Don’t I know you? You look familiar.”

“I’m Alexandra Gal. I joined your Guide troop last week – the Canary patrol.”

“Yes, of course. Did you enjoy yourself, dear?” she asked.

“I had a good time. Thanks,” I said, nodding. “Is it okay if we look around?”

“That’s why I’m here,” she said. “Take your time. I have lots of nice things for sale.”

Several shoeboxes full of different objects were lined up on the table in front of her. One contained buttons of various shapes and sizes. Another held a pile of costume jewelry. I picked up a pretty bracelet made of brightly colored beads.

“Can I try it on?” I asked Mrs. Cowan.

“Go ahead,” she said. Turning to Jacob, she added, “It would make a nice gift for your girlfriend.”

“He’s not-”

Jacob rolled his eyes and motioned for me to keep quiet. “You never know what’ll happen,” he whispered. “You might be my girlfriend someday.” His ears had turned bright red.

The bracelet was pretty on my wrist. I held up my arm for Jacob to see.

“It’s nice,” he said. “I’ll buy it for you.”

“Oh no! I don’t think-”

“I really want to,” he said, interrupting me, “A getting-to-know-you present. How much is the bracelet?” he asked Mrs. Cowan,

“You can have it for fifty cents.”

“It’s too much,” I whispered to him. “It’s not worth more than a quarter.”

“Are you sure?”

“I can buy one brand new at Eaton’s for the same price.” I pulled it off my wrist and gave it back to him.

“Still, it’s very pretty,” he said. He twirled it around in his hand before turning back to Mrs. Cowan. “We like your bracelet, but the price is too high. Can you sell it to me for a quarter?”

“Come on, young man,” she said with a smile, “My prices are fair. Why are you trying to jew me down?”

The bracelet fell out of Jacob’s hand and onto the tabletop with a loud thunk. The color ran out of his face, and his mouth opened and closed convulsively several times, though no sound came out.

“How dare you talk to me like that,” he finally said in a quiet voice.

“What do you mean?” Mrs. Cowan asked. She seemed genuinely puzzled. “What did I say?”

Like her, I couldn’t understand why he was so upset. “What’s wrong, Jacob?” I asked.

He didn’t answer me. He just stared at Mrs. Cowan for a long moment, then he waved his hand in frustration. “You’re an ignorant person!” he spat. “And you should watch what you say.” He turned and headed toward the street. “Come on, Alex. Let’s go!”

I looked at Mrs. Cowan and threw up my hands in confusion. I could see by her expression that she shared my bewilderment. As I trailed after Jacob, her voice rang in my ears. “Come back!” she cried. “What’s the matter with you? Why are you so angry?”

I stole a look at Jacob’s stricken face. “I don’t understand why you’re so mad either,” I said. “She didn’t say anything so terrible.”

“How can you say that, Alex? Don’t you understand what the phrase ‘jew me down’ means?”

I shrugged. “It’s just an expression. Everybody uses it when they don’t want you to haggle.” I didn’t dare tell him that my friends and I said it all the time.

“It’s an insult,” Jacob said. He was shaking with fury. “Don’t you realize that it demeans Jewish people? That it implies that we’re cheap?”

I stopped dead in my tracks. “Jacob, I’m
so
sorry! I never thought about what the term meant.”

“Nobody does. The world is full of stupid people.”

I touched his arm to comfort him, but he would not be consoled.

“It’s not fair, Alex. She didn’t even realize that what she was saying was offensive. Neither did you! That’s the worst of all.”

“I don’t know what to say, Jacob. I didn’t understand…. I won’t make the same mistake again.”

He sighed deeply, but I could feel him relaxing. We walked along in silence for a few moments, and I racked my brains for some way to make things up to him. I felt so bad that I did something I’d never had the nerve to do before. “Will you come with me to the school dance next Friday?” I asked.

His face brightened immediately. “I’d love to. When should I pick you up?”

“It’s at seven, but nobody gets there till after eight.”

He grabbed my hand, and a million butterflies began to dance in my stomach. “Come to my house for Shabbos dinner,” he said. “Afterward, my father will drive us to the dance.”

“Shabbos dinner?”

He laughed. “I forgot that you wouldn’t know what I’m talking about. I meant Friday night dinner. Come, you’ll like it.”

“I’ll have to check with Mom and Dad, but I’m sure it’ll be okay with them.”

I’ll make sure it’s all right, I said to myself. It was time Mom and Dad realized that I was no longer a baby.

J
ean and Molly came over to my house after dinner on Saturday night, as usual, so we could do our homework together. We always met at my house on weekends because my parents went to the movies most Saturday nights and we knew we would be alone. Dad said it did Mom good to get out of the house, since she never went anywhere by herself during the week while he was at work.

That night, the three of us were lying on the carpet in my room, trying to finish the geometry problems our math teacher, Miss Wilton, had assigned.

“Does one of you have the answer to the last question? What’s an isosceles triangle?” Molly asked.

“A triangle with two equal opposite sides,” Jean said.

Molly and I copied the answer into our notebooks before shutting them closed.

“Finished at last!” Molly said, stretching her arms wide. “Now we can talk. So tell us, Alex, what are you wearing to the dance?”

“My new dress.” I opened the closet and pulled the dress off a hanger. My fingers caressed the soft material, a deep green that made my skin look whiter and my hair blonder. “I’ve only worn it once before, for my parents’ anniversary.”

“Try it on for us,” Jean said.

I pulled off the blouse and skirt I was wearing and slipped on the dress. Molly zipped me up, and I peered into my dresser mirror. The tight bodice and long cuffed sleeves were very fashionable. The wide skirt fanned out in a satisfying manner as I twirled around, my bouncing ponytail keeping rhythm.

“What’s that on your cuff?” Molly asked.

I lifted my arm to look at the brownish stain she was pointing to.

“Oh no! It must be a grease stain. I’ll ask Mom to take the dress to the dry-cleaners. It’ll give her a chance to meet Jacob’s parents.” I twirled around again. “It’s a pretty dress, isn’t it?”

“It’s beautiful,” Jean said. “You look so nice.”

“You do,” Molly agreed. “But you could use a scarf around the neckline – something green.”

I examined my reflection carefully. Molly was right. The round neckline was very plain. “A scarf
would
look good. I know exactly the one I want, too. Dad gave Mom a beautiful green silk scarf for their anniversary. It’ll go perfectly with my dress. She keeps it in her dresser in their bedroom. Let’s go get it!”

“Won’t your mother be mad if you take her scarf?” Jean asked.

“Not if she doesn’t find out,” I told her. “I’ll put it on at Jacob’s house.”

Jean shook her head but followed Molly and me into my parents’ bedroom. Before tackling Mom’s dresser, we examined the bottles of potions and tubes of lipstick arranged in neat rows on top of her dressing table. I chose a tube in a Moonlight Pink shade and started applying it. Molly put on Passionate Red, while Jean’s lips were Slightly Burgundy. Each one of us also sprayed Chanel No. 5 cologne on the inside of our wrists.

Finally, I pulled out the bottom drawer of the dresser. There it was – Mom’s new scarf. As I picked it up, I saw that a flat package wrapped in tissue paper was hidden below it. Although the paper was creased, as if it had been unwrapped and rewrapped many times, I was very careful while opening it. Inside was a slim, rectangular book. It
had a stained cover with a picture of two Mounties on horseback. It was obvious that the crimson uniforms and wide-brimmed hats of the Mounties and the shiny black coats of their horses had been hand-colored. Above the picture was the title in bold, dark letters.
Canada
, it said.

I opened the book and leafed through it. At a quick glance, it seemed to be a history of the country. It was filled with black-and-white photographs and drawings. I recognized the Rocky Mountains and the Parliament Buildings in Ottawa. I saw a drawing of the Selkirk settlers in their covered wagons and one of British soldiers fighting a band of fierce Natives.

“What have you got there?” Molly asked, reaching for the book.

As I handed it to her, two black-and-white photographs with wavy edges fell from among its pages and fluttered to the floor. I stooped down and carefully picked them up. The pictures were so faded that it was hard to see the faces of the people in them.

One of the photos showed a young woman in a short-sleeved print dress with long, light-colored hair flowing over her shoulders and a large sausage curl at her forehead. She was standing in front of a brick house with tall iron gates. She must have been around seventeen or
eighteen years old. She was laughing into the camera and shading her eyes from the sun. The second photo was more formal. In it, the same girl was sitting on a bench in a garden full of large trees and bushes. The full skirt of her old-fashioned dress fanned prettily around her legs. There were three other people also in the picture. Sitting on the bench to the girl’s right was a middle-aged, dark-haired woman in a long-skirted suit. On the girl’s other side was a very old lady with snowy hair who was resting her feet on a small stool. Behind them all stood a younger girl with shorter dark hair. She was resting her hands on the old lady’s shoulders and smiling. All of the figures in both photographs had large six-pointed stars on their clothing, right over their hearts.

“Whose pictures are these?” Jean asked.

“I don’t know. I’ve never seen them before.”

I passed the photo of the four women to Jean and the one of the girl to Molly.

“She’s pretty,” Molly said. “She also looks familiar.” She frowned. “I wish the picture was clearer. But I’m pretty sure I’ve seen her somewhere before.”

“Let me have another look,” I said. I took the pictures out of their hands and looked at them more closely. I knew I’d never laid eyes on the two older women or the girl with the dark hair, but Molly was right about
the girl with the curl over her forehead. She
was
familiar. I racked my brains but couldn’t remember where I’d seen her.

Just then, the doorbell rang. We peeked out of the window.

“It’s my dad!” Molly said. “He’s early. We have to go.” She and Jean quickly wiped the lipstick off their mouths.

When the bell pealed again, we hurried downstairs and I went to open the door.

“Don’t tell anybody about the pictures,” I whispered as they left. “Mom will kill me if she finds out I was snooping in her dresser.”

After I’d locked the door behind them, I went back to my parents’ room, sank down on their bed, and leafed through the book again. It was definitely a history of Canada. But the photographs aroused my curiosity much more. I picked them up again, wishing they weren’t so faded. The women in them smiled back at me as before. When I turned the pictures over, I saw that their backs, like their fronts, were yellowed and stained. Someone had written a few words on each one in faded but still legible handwriting. “Agi, June 1944” was on the back of the picture of the young girl. What a strange coincidence! Mom’s name was Agi too. Well, her name was Agnes, but Dad always called her Agi. She was the only Agi I’d ever heard of.

I looked at the other photo. The same hand had written, “Agi, Mama Lotti, Jutka, and me, June 1944.” Once again, only the name Agi was familiar. Who was the Agi in the picture? Who were the women she was sitting with? Why did all of them have stars on their dresses? And most important, why had Mom hidden these photographs away among her clothes?

I had a lot of questions to ask her, but I knew she’d be furious if she found out that I’d been going through her drawers. I slipped the photos back among the pages of the book and carefully rewrapped it. Then I put the package into the drawer where I had found it and covered it with her scarf, the same as before.

I looked around the room. Nothing was out of place, so I went down to the living room and watched a little TV until I began to feel tired and decided to go to bed. I must have fallen asleep right away, for I didn’t even hear Mom and Dad come home.

I woke up early Sunday morning with the sun sneaking into my room through the folds of the curtains. It was so quiet that I could hear the ticking of the grandfather clock outside my bedroom and the swishing of its pendulum. Mom and Dad must have gone for their regular morning walk. Mom’s bad leg stiffened up if she didn’t exercise regularly, and Dad always went with her, since
she never went anywhere by herself. I was drifting off to sleep once again when the chiming of the clock jolted me back awake.