country,” Sol said finally, surprised at his own decisiveness, the certainty in his voice.
A light appeared in Jake’s eyes and Sol could tell he was thinking of the salons of Paris and London and other grand cities, images gleaned from the boyhood stories their father had told of his travels. “East,” Sol added authoritatively.
“East?” Jake’s shoulders slumped as the visions of cafés and social halls evaporated from his mind.
“Yes. It’s easier to cross the border and you’ll be less likely to be noticed. And there are Jews there who will help.” Jake’s brow wrinkled, imagining the shawl-clad immigrants from the Pale. “Papa has cousins near Lodz,” Sol persisted, as if making his case. “Go to them and from there you can arrange a longer journey, by sea to America or somewhere else. I’ve heard there’s a train that goes all the way to China.”
Jake’s eyes danced once more as he imagined more exotic adventures. Then his face fell. “I don’t have the money,” he said, confirming, as Sol had long suspected, that the government job did not carry a paycheck that matched its prestige.
“We’ll figure that out,” he said, trying to sound reassuring. “But you have to leave right away and—”
“Miri,” Jake interrupted. His eyes darted back and forth rapidly. “I have to find her first, make sure she’s all right.”
It was the first time Sol had ever heard his brother express concern about anyone but himself. What kind of hold did this girl have on him after such a short time? Then, remembering the effect Miri’s sister had on him, he understood.
“And perhaps she can provide an explanation, prove that I had nothing to do with it,” Jake added desperately. “Maybe we can even leave together.” Sol wanted to tell Jake that his loyalty was misplaced; Miri had clearly abandoned him, perhaps even set him up. But he could tell from his brother’s stubbornly set jaw that it was futile; he wouldn’t leave without finding her, or at least knowing where she had gone.
Leah, he remembered suddenly. Maybe she knew where her sister had gone. “Wait here,” he instructed Jake and started from the alley, nearly slipping in his haste. Steadying himself, he set off hurriedly down the street.
Twenty minutes later, he barreled through the entrance to thedepartment store, then stopped. Did he actually dare speak with her? But there was no time to lose. He steeled himself, then walked toward the counter. The salesclerk, blond and stout, was not Leah. Of course not. She wouldn’t be here, surely, on
Shabbes
. And even if she wasn’t observant, she might not be working today. His heart fell. But perhaps a coworker might have her contact information, know where Sol could find her.
He started forward. “Excuse me …” As he neared, he saw a second girl, hunched over a cardboard box. She turned and his breath caught. Behind the counter, as if she had never left, was Leah. She was even more mesmerizing up close, he decided as she straightened. A mix of surprise and delight filled him.
A flicker of what Sol thought resembled recognition crossed her face and for a moment he hoped that perhaps she had noticed him too on his previous visits to the store. “May I help you?” she said, and her voice, which he had imagined so often in his mind these past few days, was even more lyrical than he had dreamt. But her tone was formal, as though she were speaking to anyone.
He stifled his disappointment. “Leah,” he blurted, and the girl seemed so taken aback that he wondered if he had made a mistake. “You are Leah, aren’t you?”
“Yes.” She blinked, as if unaccustomed to being known. “Have we met?”
“No. I’m acquainted with Miri.” She looked annoyed then, having been asked too many times about her sister by young men, he suspected. “She’s a friend of my brother, Jake.” Leah’s expression relaxed slightly. “Do you know where I can find her?”
“She’s left,” Leah
A light appeared in Jake’s eyes and Sol could tell he was thinking of the salons of Paris and London and other grand cities, images gleaned from the boyhood stories their father had told of his travels. “East,” Sol added authoritatively.
“East?” Jake’s shoulders slumped as the visions of cafés and social halls evaporated from his mind.
“Yes. It’s easier to cross the border and you’ll be less likely to be noticed. And there are Jews there who will help.” Jake’s brow wrinkled, imagining the shawl-clad immigrants from the Pale. “Papa has cousins near Lodz,” Sol persisted, as if making his case. “Go to them and from there you can arrange a longer journey, by sea to America or somewhere else. I’ve heard there’s a train that goes all the way to China.”
Jake’s eyes danced once more as he imagined more exotic adventures. Then his face fell. “I don’t have the money,” he said, confirming, as Sol had long suspected, that the government job did not carry a paycheck that matched its prestige.
“We’ll figure that out,” he said, trying to sound reassuring. “But you have to leave right away and—”
“Miri,” Jake interrupted. His eyes darted back and forth rapidly. “I have to find her first, make sure she’s all right.”
It was the first time Sol had ever heard his brother express concern about anyone but himself. What kind of hold did this girl have on him after such a short time? Then, remembering the effect Miri’s sister had on him, he understood.
“And perhaps she can provide an explanation, prove that I had nothing to do with it,” Jake added desperately. “Maybe we can even leave together.” Sol wanted to tell Jake that his loyalty was misplaced; Miri had clearly abandoned him, perhaps even set him up. But he could tell from his brother’s stubbornly set jaw that it was futile; he wouldn’t leave without finding her, or at least knowing where she had gone.
Leah, he remembered suddenly. Maybe she knew where her sister had gone. “Wait here,” he instructed Jake and started from the alley, nearly slipping in his haste. Steadying himself, he set off hurriedly down the street.
Twenty minutes later, he barreled through the entrance to thedepartment store, then stopped. Did he actually dare speak with her? But there was no time to lose. He steeled himself, then walked toward the counter. The salesclerk, blond and stout, was not Leah. Of course not. She wouldn’t be here, surely, on
Shabbes
. And even if she wasn’t observant, she might not be working today. His heart fell. But perhaps a coworker might have her contact information, know where Sol could find her.
He started forward. “Excuse me …” As he neared, he saw a second girl, hunched over a cardboard box. She turned and his breath caught. Behind the counter, as if she had never left, was Leah. She was even more mesmerizing up close, he decided as she straightened. A mix of surprise and delight filled him.
A flicker of what Sol thought resembled recognition crossed her face and for a moment he hoped that perhaps she had noticed him too on his previous visits to the store. “May I help you?” she said, and her voice, which he had imagined so often in his mind these past few days, was even more lyrical than he had dreamt. But her tone was formal, as though she were speaking to anyone.
He stifled his disappointment. “Leah,” he blurted, and the girl seemed so taken aback that he wondered if he had made a mistake. “You are Leah, aren’t you?”
“Yes.” She blinked, as if unaccustomed to being known. “Have we met?”
“No. I’m acquainted with Miri.” She looked annoyed then, having been asked too many times about her sister by young men, he suspected. “She’s a friend of my brother, Jake.” Leah’s expression relaxed slightly. “Do you know where I can find her?”
“She’s left,” Leah
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