Hiding Edith by Kathy Kacer Page A

synagogue services she had attended so many years ago in Vienna.She had not understood the rabbi’s Hebrew words any more than the priest’s Latin, but then as now she enjoyed the simple chants.
    All too quickly, the service was over. The congregation rose and Edith followed. They crossed themselves, and she did the same. Suddenly, next to her, Sarah gasped and Edith froze. The two girls locked eyes, realizing at exactly the same moment that Edith had crossed herself with her left hand instead of her right.
    Edith’s face went red with the pounding of her heart, and sweat broke out on her brow. Making the sign of the cross was so basic that to cross yourself incorrectly in a Catholic church was almost like telling the whole world that you were an imposter. Shatta’s voice rushed into her mind: “There can be no mistakes. Your safety will depend on this.”
    Not only had Edith jeopardized her own life, but she might have placed Sarah and the others in danger as well. She desperately searched the faces of the people around her. Had anyone noticed? Men and women were shaking hands and greeting one another, wishing each other peace and a rapid end to the war.
    No one had paid her any attention.
    Sarah reached out a hand to her friend and the two girls quickly walked out of the church.
    “That was close,” Edith whispered.
    Sarah nodded. “I thought Jeanette next to me saw, but it doesn’t look like it.” Like all the girls, Jeanette was giggling and talking with her friends, ignoring Edith and Sarah as usual. For once, Edithwas grateful that she and Sarah were nearly invisible. Being invisible meant that mistakes might go unnoticed. Still, they would have to be extra careful.
    Edith worried for the rest of the day.
Maybe I should just not leave the school,
she thought.
Maybe I should stay inside, avoid places where one small lapse might give me away.
    So, it was with mixed feelings that Edith followed Madame Picot and the others out the door the next day for a routine trip to the department store in town. There, madame would buy supplies for the school — and the girls would carry the packages. Edith often wondered what became of all those purchases. She and her friends from Moissac certainly never saw the soap or clothing that madame bought.
    Edith walked slowly up and down the half-empty aisles of the store, inspecting the sparse items on the shelves and filling the empty spaces with thoughts of all the things she’d like to buy. Before long, she was lost in childhood memories of playing “store” with Therese.
    “I will take a bottle of perfume, and two bars of soap. Oh no, not that perfume
—
the very expensive one.”
    Therese, the shopkeeper, quickly rushed to get the things her young customer had requested. “Of course, mademoiselle, the very best.”
    “Then I’ll take two bottles. Please wrap them up.”
    As the memory of those playful days swept back over her, Edith reached out to touch the colorful ribbons displayed on a table. She longed to have just one to tie in her hair, just as Mutti had doneso many times. She was so lost in her happy daydream that she did not notice someone stopping directly in front of her.
    “Hello, little girl.”
    Startled, Edith looked up into the face of a Nazi soldier.
    “I said hello,” the soldier repeated.
    “Bonjour. Good day,” Edith murmured. The words practically stuck in her throat.
    The soldier looked at her with a slight smirk. He was tall and straight, arms folded easily across his chest. She could hear the squeak of his tall black boots as he swayed slightly back and forth.
    “What’s your name?” The soldier leaned closer. Edith could smell his cigarette smoke.
    “I’m Edith,” she finally croaked. “Edith Servant.”
    “Edith,” he said thoughtfully, looking her up and down. “A German name, yes?”
    Edith’s head was spinning. What did he mean? Did he hear something in her accent that didn’t sound French? Had he guessed she was Jewish?