No One Must Know (3 page)

“Much better!” I winked back.

“You’ll have to tell me all about it tonight. Mom’s in the kitchen making lunch for you.”

“Hurry up,” Dr. Wolfe said to Dad. “The sooner we get there, the sooner I can beat you.”

Dad laughed, slapping his tennis racket against his thigh. “In your dreams, old buddy,” he said, following his friend out of our house. “In your dreams.”

O
n the first day of school, I was almost late for my social studies class. I slipped into the room just before the bell rang and saw Molly waving to me from the back of the class.

“I saved you a seat,” she said as I plopped down beside her.

Jean was in the row in front of us. She turned around and, in a sarcastic voice, asked, “Aren’t you happy to be back at school?”

I stuck out my tongue.

“We’re going to be so busy with homework and planning our tea for Girl Guides,” Molly said, a little glumly.

Jean smiled. “I’m so glad you joined, Alex. You’re going to love it. All the girls are really nice – except Christie, of course. She’s such a snob.”

“Did she invite you to her birthday party?” Molly asked me.

“She’d never invite me!” The ever-popular Christie barely acknowledged my existence when we passed each other in the hall. “She doesn’t even know I’m alive.”

“Me neither,” Molly said.

“Or me,” Jean said. “Well, never mind. Fall is here, so we can start planning our own birthday party soon.”

“It’s still too early – almost three months away. I don’t think…” My voice trailed off as the classroom door opened and a blond boy sauntered into the room. My heart began tap dancing in my chest when he sat down in an empty seat at the end of our row.

Molly nudged me with her elbow. “The boy from the beach!”

Jean turned around again. “His name’s Jacob Pearlman. I heard Miss Wilton telling Mr. Jackson that he just moved here from Toronto.”

“You were right, Alex,” said Molly. “He is
seriously
cute!”

“Wait! I just realized something,” Jean whispered. “If he’s the same boy who went back to Jew beach, he mu –”

“Quiet!” Mr. Bradford said, pointing his ruler at us. “Pay attention, girls. Class is about to begin.” He softened his words with a smile, and I smiled back. He was my favorite teacher, the only one who never yelled at us, strapped us, or sent us to the office.

Looking around the room, he said, “Welcome back, everybody. It’s nice to see so many familiar faces – and some new ones too.” This last remark was directed at Jacob. “I know you’re all eager to hit the books, so let’s not waste any time. We’re going to start the year by examining our country’s role in the Second World War. Who can tell me the dates of the war?”

Total silence reigned in the classroom. All of us were careful not to make eye contact with him.

He laughed. “Come on Surely one of you must know the answer. It wasn’t all
that
long ago.”

A couple of kids snickered in the back of the room, but no one else budged. I was on the verge of raising my arm when Jacob put up his hand.

“The Second World War started in 1939 and ended in ’45,” he said. “Fifteen years ago.”

“Quite right, Jacob. If your classmates had cracked their textbooks at all over the summer, they too would have been able to answer my question.”

Jacob gulped. Being singled out for praise by a teacher
did not enhance a person’s popularity, especially in a new school.

“Who, besides Jacob, can name our allies and our foes during the war?” Mr. Bradford asked.

I put up my hand. “Germany was our enemy, and Britain, the United States, and the USSR were our allies.” Jacob wasn’t the only one who read the social studies text.

“As usual, Alexandra has the correct answer,” Mr. Bradford said, beaming at me.

I sank down in my seat, wanting to die. Mr. Bradford had a certain enthusiastic “teachery” expression on his face that always appeared when a class discussion was going well.

“Can anyone tell me the name of the leader of Germany during the war?” he asked, pacing up and down at the front of the classroom with excitement.

“Adolf Hitler,” Molly said. Like me, she always made the honor roll. “Hitler was a wicked man. He picked on the Jewish people.”

Jacob’s arm shot up. “Picked on them?” he cried out, even before the teacher gave him permission to speak. “Hitler did much more than pick on the Jews. He put them into concentration camps, then gassed millions and millions of them. Everybody knows what Hitler did, but nobody wants to talk about it.”

Molly caught her breath like someone who’d just been slapped in the face. The rest of the class fell silent. Jacob had to be mistaken. Nobody could be that evil.

“You must be wrong,” I said. “Our textbook says that Hitler didn’t like Jews, but no mention is made of killing people. Nobody would do something so horrible.”

Jacob turned toward me. I could see recognition dawn in his eyes. “I’m telling you the complete truth,” he said. “I know our textbook isn’t saying what really happened because I’ve done a lot of reading on this subject on my own. Hitler even murdered members of my own family who lived in Europe during the war.”

Some of the kids shifted uneasily in their seats. But nobody, not even Mr. Bradford, uttered a sound. We all just stared at Jacob. The war was no longer a bunch of statistics or a few dry paragraphs in our textbook. I thought of bombs and fires and dead people, even kids my own age. Kids who were like me, who once had spent their days going to school and hanging around with their friends.

Finally, Mr. Bradford cleared his throat. “Unfortunately, class, what Jacob says is true. I have seen newsreels of the terrible atrocities committed in the camps against the Jewish people, just as Jacob describes. These events were so awful that most people are reluctant to discuss them, I’m afraid, and our textbook doesn’t mention at all
the suffering of the Jewish people during the war.” He sighed sadly. “Perhaps we should just leave this discussion there for now. We’ll continue on with it next class. For now, let’s all take out our textbooks and read quietly until the bell rings.”

A chorus of deep groans greeted his words, but everyone did as he asked. In what seemed like no time, the bell was ringing and the class was over. Students started collecting their books and leaving the room as quickly as possible.

Jacob, like everyone else, was gathering up his books. When I waved and called out, he walked over to my desk. I noticed that he towered over me, even though I was one of the tallest girls in our class.

“Hi,” he said shyly. “Do you remember me from the beach?”

“I sure do! I didn’t know you’d be in my school, though.”

“Neither did I. My name’s Jacob. Jacob Pearlman.”

“I’m Alexandra, but my friends call me Alex,” I said, favoring him with my best smile. “And these are my friends Molly and Jean.”

He grinned back. “Hi,” he said. He really did have the cutest dimples I had ever seen. “I hope I didn’t embarrass you in class, but the war is personal to me.” He was talking to Molly and Jean too, but he looked only at me.

“I wish I knew more about it,” I said quietly. “My parents were also in Europe during the war, but they never talk about their experiences.”

“You should ask them,” Jacob said.

“I have, many times, but they won’t tell me anything.”

“Well, keep on asking until they
will
tell you.”

“Ahem,” Molly said, interrupting us with a smirk on her face. “I’ve got math next period, so I have to hurry.” She gestured to Jean, who trailed after her in silence.

As Jacob and I turned to follow them to the door, Mr. Bradford motioned us over to his desk.

“Interesting discussion, you two. I can see that you’ll be a valuable addition to our class, Jacob,” he said, nodding his head. “I’m glad you spoke up. Our textbook is inadequate in many ways,” he added as he waved us out of the room.

When we got into the hallway, we stood awkwardly for a moment, Jacob polishing the gray linoleum floor with the toe of his shoe.

“Well, I’m off to math class too,” I said with more confidence than I felt. “Where are you going?”

“I’ve got French next,” Jacob said, his eyes fixed on the floor.

“I’d offer to show you the way, but the French room is just around the corner. And anyway, Madame Appelle
doesn’t let you speak a word of English once you get anywhere near her classroom.”

Jacob laughed. “Then she won’t get much sense out of me. French is my worst subject.” He continued to stare at the floor. “It’s too bad you’re not in my class.”

“I have French in the afternoon.” The bell rang again. “Oops,” I said, “I’d better get going or I’ll be late.”

He called after me when I was already halfway down the hall. “Alex!” he said. “Do you live nearby? I can walk you home after school.”

“Sure.” I felt too shy to look at him.

“I’ll wait for you in front of the gym. See you later!”

I floated the rest of the way to the math room, certain that my feet didn’t even touch the ground.

J
acob walked me home every day during the first week of school. He even asked me to go for a walk with him on Saturday afternoon. I didn’t tell Mom about his invitation because I was worried that she would say I was too young to meet a boy. It wasn’t really lying, I told myself, but just keeping a secret.

As I was getting ready to meet Jacob, I stared at myself in the mirror in my room. I knew I was looking my best. My blonde curly hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and my pink blouse with the sweetheart collar was pretty. A swingy black skirt with a wide, black patent belt completed my outfit.

When I went downstairs to tell my parents that I was
going out, I found Mom in an easy chair, reading the paper. Dad was sprawled out on the couch, taking a nap. Mom put her finger to her lips, nodding her head in Dad’s direction.

“I’ll be home in a couple of hours,” I whispered. “I’m going for a walk with a friend.”

“Take a sweater. It cools down quickly,” Mom said before returning to her paper.

Instead of arguing, I grabbed a sweater and made my escape as quickly as possible. I just wanted to get out of the house before she could ask which friend I was meeting.

As I came down the front steps, I could see Jacob waiting for me at the end of the street. He had taken off his jacket, and I knew right away that my sweater would be too warm, even if I left it open. I didn’t care, though. I was just happy to be spending the afternoon with him.

“This neighborhood reminds me of our street in Toronto,” Jacob said as I approached. He was looking around at the old homes on both sides of the street.

“It must have been rough leaving your friends.”

“I was upset when Dad announced that we’d be moving,” he admitted. “But he inherited a dry-cleaner’s shop from his cousin. He says it’s a good opportunity for our family, one we can’t afford to pass up.”

“Which is your shop?”

“It’s called Freddy’s Dry-Cleaning Emporium.”

“You’re kidding! We get all of our dry-cleaning done there.”

“I thought you might, since we’re almost neighbors,” Jacob said. “Our apartment is above the shop.” He sighed. “I miss my friends back home, though. We’ve been together since kindergarten.” He shifted his jacket to his other arm, and the dimple by his mouth deepened as he looked at me. “However, I can see that moving has certain advantages.”

I searched my mind wildly for a clever reply but could think of nothing to say. I was relieved when I saw a yard sale sign in front of a large white house across the street from us. “Let’s see what they’re selling!” I cried.

The entire front lawn was littered with large boxes, the type used in stores to pack groceries. One was full of boots and shoes of every color and style. Another was loaded with electric tools, while a third one held pots and pans. A kitchen table had been set up right in front of the house. A middle-aged woman with crimped gray hair was sitting on a chair behind the table. Despite the mild weather, she wore a trench coat buttoned high up her neck. We were her only customers. It took me a minute to recognize her out of uniform, but then I saw that it was Mrs. Cowan, my Girl Guide leader.