Odette's Secrets
Authors: Maryann Macdonald
Secrets
MARYANN MACDONALD
For George
Il y a longtemps que je t'aime,
jamais je ne t'oublierai.
Odette Meyers and her mother, 1942
Contents
No Eggs or Milk, No Jews or Dogs
Soup, a Swing, and Another Secret
Rain in ParisMy name is Odette.
I live in Paris,
on a cobblestone square
with a splashing fountain and a silent statue.
My hair is curly.
Mama ties ribbons in it.
Papa reads to me and buys me toys.
I have everything I could wish for,
except a cat.
Every day I push open the shutters of our bedroom window,
lean on the windowsill,
and watch the world below.
Today, rain drizzles down on Paris.
Nuns in white-winged bonnets hurry across the square.
Gypsies huddle in doorways.
Ironworkers sip bitter coffee and read newspapers at the café.
Life looks the same as always,
but it is about to change.
It's Saturday, so Mama and Papa take me to the cinema.
On the huge screen,
soldiers march,
their legs and arms straight as sticks.
A funny-looking man with a mustache
shouts a speech.
His name is Hitler.
Who are these soldiers?
Why do they move like machines?
Some people in the cinema cheer and clap.
Mama and Papa whisper together.
Papa shakes his head.
Then he jumps up.
He stalks out of the cinema.
Mama and I run after him.
“I couldn't breathe in there,”
Papa says outside.
“The air ⦠it was like poison gas.”
Mama rubs Papa's arm.
I hope we'll go back to the film,
but we don't.
Instead, Papa buys us warm crepes,
sprinkled with snowy sugar.
We walk home side by side,
in the chill rain,
just the three of us.
Cracked GlassSunday comes.
Mama and I go to the public baths.
We rent a room with a tub and a shower
for fifteen minutes.
I play mermaid in the tub.
Mama scrubs in the shower.
Then I rinse off
while Mama soaks.
When we're done, we rub our clean bodies all over
with scratchy white towels.
Mama kisses my nose.
Then she splashes cologne all over us.
Smelling like violets,
we walk home together, swinging hands.
