Starring Sally J. Freedman as Herself (3 page)

Anyway, she didn’t want him to die. And she knew she shouldn’t be thinking that way. God could
punish her for such evil thoughts. Besides, if Douglas died it wouldn’t be fun like when her aunts and uncles and Granny Freedman had died. After their funerals they’d sat shivah for a week, at Sally’s house. It was a Jewish custom, to help the family through those difficult first days following a loved one’s death. Sally enjoyed sitting shivah very much. Every afternoon and evening friends and relatives would come to visit, bringing baskets of fruit and homemade cakes and cookies and boxes of candy from Barton’s. And they would pinch Sally’s cheeks, telling her how much she’d grown since the last funeral. Then they’d all sit around and talk and Mom would serve coffee. And as they left they’d always say, “We must get together on happier occasions.” But they never did.

It seemed to Sally that somebody in her family was always dying. But they were much older or very sick and she didn’t know them well enough to really care. The last time they’d sat shivah was in November when Ma Fanny got a letter telling her that Tante Rose and Lila were dead—killed in one of Hitler’s concentration camps. And people who Sally had never seen before came to pay condolence calls. People from the old country, who had known Ma Fanny when she was just a girl, before she sailed to America on the banana boat. People who remembered Tante Rose and Lila.

With Douglas it would be different. It wouldn’t be like a party at all. Everyone would cry and they would forget all about her. It would be even worse than now. She wished Douglas would hurry and get well so the family could have some time for her too.

When school ended Sally was sent to Day Camp at the Y. And in August Douglas was well again. Toward the end of the month Mom said, “Daddy and I are going away for a few days.”

“Where to?” Sally asked. “Bradley Beach?”

“No … Florida … Ma Fanny will take care of you and Douglas while we’re gone.”

“But suppose Douglas gets sick again?”

“He won’t … the doctor says he’s doing fine and we’ll just be gone a week … maybe less.”

“How will you get there?”

“On the train.”

“But Florida’s very far, isn’t it?”

“It’s a day and a half on the train.”

Sally thought she might start to cry but she wasn’t sure why.

“Don’t look like that,” Mom said, putting an arm around her. “Everything’s going to be fine … and when we come home we may have a big surprise for you.”

“What kind of surprise?”

“If I tell you then it won’t be a surprise.”

“Tell me anyway … please …”

“Can you promise to keep it a secret?’

“I promise …”

“You won’t tell
anybody?
”

Sally shook her head.

“Well … Daddy and I are going to look for an apartment in Miami Beach and if we find one then maybe we’ll spend next winter there … and wouldn’t that be fun?”

“You mean all of us?”

“You and Douglas and Ma Fanny and me … Daddy would have to stay at home to work, of course …”

“But what about school?”

“You’d go to school there … wouldn’t that be exciting?”

“I don’t know.”

“The doctors think it would be very good for Douglas … and you always have sore throats in the winter … so it would be good for you too.”

“Sometimes I get sore throats in the summer … remember the night the war was over … remember how my throat hurt then?”

“Yes, but winter is worse … and we don’t want Douglas to be sick anymore, do we?”

“You just said he’s fine.”

“He’s getting better …”

“You said
fine
.”

“I meant the infection is clearing up … but Douglas is very run-down … he’s lost a lot of weight … you can see his ribs …”

“You always could.”

“But now you can count them … he needs time to recuperate …”

“I’m not sure I want to go.”

“Well … nothing’s definite … we’ll just see what happens, okay?”

“Okay.”

Sally and her friends were in the playhouse in Sally’s backyard. It wasn’t a baby kind of playhouse for dolls. It was a big sturdy house that her father and Douglas had built. It was painted white with green shutters. Inside there was a table, four chairs, a built-in wooden bed and three windows. There was a Dutch door, too.

Alice Ingram, who had a recreation room and four telephones at her house, didn’t have anything to compare with Sally’s playhouse. Alice and Christine were both in Sally’s class at school. They sat next to each other on the wooden bed. Betsy, who lived across the street, was a year younger than the other girls but two heads taller. She sat on one of the chairs.

“Let’s play Love and Romance today,” Alice said. “Sally and Betsy can be the boys and me and Christine will be the girls.”

“No thank you,” Betsy said. “I was the boy last time.”

“That’s because you’re so tall,” Christine told her. “You make a good boy.”

“Let’s play War instead,” Sally suggested.

“Oh, I’m sick of playing War,” Alice said. “I always wind up being Hitler!”

“Well, you can’t expect me to be Hitler,” Sally said. “I’m Jewish.”

“So … everybody expects me to be the boy and I’m really a girl,” Betsy argued.

“That’s different!” Sally said. “But if you don’t want to play War I have another idea …”

“What?” Alice Ingram asked.

“We can play Concentration Camp instead. And nobody has to be Hitler because he is away on business.”

“How do you play?” Betsy asked.

“The usual way …” Sally answered. “First I tell you who you are and then I make up the story … Alice, you can be Lila …”

“Who’s she?” Alice asked.

“This beautiful woman who gets captured and sent to Dachau.”

“What’s that?” Alice asked.

“It’s the concentration camp where the story takes place.”

“Oh.”

“And Betsy, you can be Tante Rose, Lila’s mother …”

“Why should I have to be Alice’s mother … I’m younger …”

“Because you’re taller … now just shut up and listen …”

“I don’t see why we always have to play Sally’s stories,” Betsy whined.

“Because she’s good at making them up,” Christine said. “And besides, it’s
her
playhouse.”

“I’ll play,” Alice said, “as long as I can be Lila … you did say she was beautiful, didn’t you?”

“Yes, very … we’ve got pictures of her. She has long, dark hair and big eyes.”

“Is her mother beautiful too?” Betsy asked.

“Of course. And she’s not even
that
old because she had Lila when she was just sixteen.”

“My sister’s sixteen,” Betsy said.

“I know … I know …” Sally was anxious to get on with the game.

“Who am I supposed to be?” Christine asked.

“You can be the concentration camp guard. You hand the pretend soap to Tante Rose and Lila and tell them to go to the showers.”

“Why do they get
pretend
soap?”

“Because it’s a trick. They’re not really going to get showers, they’re going to get killed in a big gas oven.”

“I’m going home,” Betsy said. “I don’t like this game.”

“It is kind of scary,” Christine said. “I’d rather play Love and Romance.”

“If we do, then I’ll stay,” Betsy said.

“Let’s take a vote,” Christine said. “All in favor of Concentration Camp, raise your hands.”

Sally and Alice raised their hands.

“All in favor of Love and Romance, raise yours …” Christine and Betsy raised theirs. “It’s a tie.”

“Oh, all right …” Sally said, “we’ll play Detective instead. That way nobody wins.”

Later, after Alice and Betsy went home, Christine and Sally sat on the glider swing. “How long will your parents be in Florida?” Christine asked.

“A week … they’re looking for an apartment.”

“You’re moving?”

“No, silly … I’d never move … it’s just for next winter … so Douglas doesn’t get sick in the cold weather. And if you tell anybody anything about it I’ll kill you … it’s supposed to be a secret.”

“Who would I tell?”

“I don’t know … just promise that you won’t.”

“Okay … I promise … I’ve got to go now …”

Sally walked Christine to her bicycle.

“You know who goes to Florida in the winter?” Christine aked.

“No … who?”

“Millionaires! I read it in my mother’s magazine.” She coasted down Sally’s driveway.

“Hey … my father’s just a dentist,” Sally called, “not a millionaire …”

Christine laughed and waved.

“Hey … remember your promise … not a word to anyone.”

“My lips are sealed,” Christine called back.

Bounce … catch … bounce … catch … Sally was tossing her Spalding ball against the side of the house. The supper that Ma Fanny was cooking smelled good. Sally guessed it was roast chicken. Bounce … catch … bounce … catch … She had time for just a short story before Ma Fanny called her in to eat. At least when she made up the stories inside her head she didn’t have to worry about who would play what. That was such a waste of time. Let’s see, Sally thought, thinking up a title.

Sally Saves Lila

It is during the war. President Roosevelt asks for volunteers to go to Europe to help.

Sally is the first on line.

How old are you?
the Head of Volunteers asks.

I’m ten
, Sally tells her,
but I’m smart … and strong … and tough
.

Yes, I can see that
, the Head says.
Okay, I’m going to take a chance and send you … your ship leaves in an hour
.

Thank you
, Sally says,
you won’t be sorry you chose me
.

Good luck
, the Head says.

Sally salutes, slings her duffle bag over her shoulder and boards her ship.

When she arrives in Europe she realizes she has forgotten her toothpaste. She goes into the first Rexall’s she sees and selects a tube of Ipana, for the smile of beauty. Then she feels hungry. It must be lunchtime. She finds a deli and orders a salami sandwich on rye and a Coke to go. She takes her lunch to the park across the street and finds a sunny bench. She unwraps her sandwich but before she takes her first bite she hears someone crying.

Sally investigates. After all, she has come to Europe to help. It is a woman, huddled on the ground next to a tall tree. Her hands cover her face, muffling her sobs. She is dressed in rags.

Sally goes to her side.
Are you hungry?
she asks.

The woman does not respond so Sally holds out her sandwich.
It’s salami
, she says.
Doesn’t it smell good?

Kosher?
the woman asks.

Yes
, Sally tells her.
Kosher salami is the only kind I like
.

Me too
, the woman says. She reaches for the sandwich and wolfs it down, her back to Sally.

How long has it been since you’ve eaten?
Sally asks.

Days … weeks … months … I don’t know anymore
.

Where do you live?

I have no home … no family … no friends … all gone … gone …
Finally she turns around and faces Sally. Even though her hair is filthy and her big eyes are red and swollen and most of her teeth are missing, Sally knows her instantly.
Lila!

At the sound of her name the woman tries to stand up and run but she is so weak she falls to the ground, beating it with her fists.
I knew you would catch me … sooner or later … I knew I could never escape … but I won’t go back to Dachau … not ever
 … 
I’ll die right here … right now
 … She pulls a knife from her pocket and aims it at her heart.

No!
Sally says, springing to her feet. She wrestles the knife away from Lila.
You don’t understand … I’m here to help …

You are not with the Gestapo?
Lila asks.

No, I’m with the Volunteers of America. I’m Sally
J. Freedman, from New Jersey … I’m your cousin, once removed …

You mean you’re Louise’s daughter?

Sally nods.

You mean you’re Tante Fanny’s granddaughter?

Sally nods again.

I can’t believe it … I can’t believe it … just when I’d given up all hope
. Sally and Lila embrace.

Where’s Tante Rose?
Sally asks.

Lila begins to cry again.
My mother is dead. We dug the hole together. For five months, every night, we dug the hole … until finally it was ready … and just when we were going to escape they caught Mama and sent her to the showers. That night I crawled through the hole myself and came out in the forest and I ran and ran and I’ve been running ever since … but not any more … I’m too tired … too tired to run …

It’s all over now
, Sally tells Lila.
You’re safe. I’m taking you home with me. You can share my room. My father will make you new teeth. He’s a very good dentist
.

How can I ever thank you?
Lila asks.

Don’t even try … I’m just doing my job
.

The next day, after Lila has a bath and shampoo, a good night’s sleep and a big breakfast in bed, she and Sally board the ship for New Jersey. On the way Lila develops a sore throat and a fever of 103°.
Sally puts her to bed, gives her ginger ale to sip and keeps a cold cloth on her forehead. She sits at Lila’s bedside and tells her stories until Lila is well again.

When they get home Sally is a hero. There is a big parade in her honor on Broad Street and everyone cheers. The people watching from the windows in the office buildings throw confetti, the way Sally did when Admiral Halsey came home at the end of the war.

That night, Sally was soaking in the tub trying to keep cool. When she and Douglas were small they played in the tub together on hot summer days. But Douglas didn’t let her see him undressed anymore. She lay back in the tub and squeezed her sponge. The water trickled on her legs and belly.

There were four bedrooms in Sally’s house but just that one bathroom, unless you counted the one that was off the kitchen, and Sally didn’t. That one had only a sink and toilet, while this one had a tub, a separate shower, a hamper, a mirrored cabinet, plus a sink and toilet. The tile was lavender, with black trim. The wallpaper matched and all the woodwork was painted black, including the door. Sally loved it.