Kanada (2 page)

Monday, April 3, 1944 –
Wednesday, April 5, 1944

I
unbuttoned my jacket in the warm spring air and peered down the street. There were no German or Arrow Cross uniforms in sight. It was almost eight o'clock. Miss Szabo was livid when we were late for school. The bell pealed while I was dashing up the worn staircase. The heavy doors banged shut behind me, and I paused to catch my breath. The scarred wooden floor, the walls paneled in cherrywood, and the old-fashioned light fixtures had a comforting familiarity. The pungent smell of chalk mixed with sweat and the odor of gym shoes made me feel at home.

My classroom door was wide open. Chatter and laughter drifted into the hall. I was in luck! Miss Szabo had not yet arrived. I sat down at the desk I shared with Klari at the front of the room. Miri sat behind us.

Half of the period had passed by the time Miss Szabo finally came into the room. She was closely followed by Principal Nemeth, dressed in his Arrow Cross uniform and tall, shiny boots. Miss Szabo's cheeks were flushed and her considerable bosom was heaving. She plucked at her lace collar.

“Attention, students! Principal Nemeth wishes to speak to you.”

Nemeth puffed out his chest. He stood for a long moment, twirling one of the shiny buttons of his uniform.

“I have an important announcement to make!” He paused for dramatic effect. “From now on, all Jews must sit at the back of the classroom!”

Everyone was silent, except for Miri, who gasped with a ragged, painful sound. She and I were the only Jewish students in our class. I stared at Nemeth dumbly. Then, with a will of its own, my arm shot up.

“Excuse me, sir,” I said before being given permission to speak. “I don't understand!”

Nemeth tugged on his mustache. “You heard me. All Jewish students must sit in the back row against the wall!”

I forced myself to speak again. “Why?”

The principal took a step toward me and bent over my desk, so close that I could see the blackheads peppering his nose. He looked at me with so much venom that I felt paralyzed.

“Why?! Why?! You dare to ask! I'll tell you why! Because I say so!”

He stepped back and clapped his hands. “Attention! All Jews attending the fifth form, pick up your belongings and move over there!” he bellowed, pointing to an empty desk by the back wall. As Miri and I gathered up our books, Miss Szabo stood by the principal's side, silent, her eyes fixed on the floor, her hands clasped. Klari helped me move my things. Her face was so pale that her freckles stood out like ink spots.

“I am sorry, Jutka. I am so sorry,” she mumbled.

The others stared at us. Maria Kovacs began to giggle. She was hushed by the girl sitting next to her.

When Miri and I settled into the empty desk by the wall, she grasped my hand under the table.

“This is unbelievable,” she whispered. “What can we do?”

“I don't know if we can do anything. He is the principal.”

“Quiet!” Nemeth roared. He gave a satisfied nod. “Make sure you stay there!” He cocked his finger at us. “I'll be coming back regularly to check on you!”

Miss Szabo stood at the front of the room, her eyes still fixed on the floor, not speaking. When the classroom door banged shut behind Nemeth, she looked up.

“Try to forget about this unfortunate incident,” she finally said in a hoarse voice. She glanced at the clock ticking on the wall. “We still have some time. Let's make the most of it. We'll pick up our geography lesson where we left off yesterday.”

She unrolled a large map and tacked it to the wall. With a long pointer, she indicated the different continents. She
located Hungary. Next, her stick moved to the west, to Germany. She traced Germany's borders with the pointer.

“This is an old map, out of date,” she explained. “It shows what our world looked like a few months ago. Things have changed since then.” She unrolled another map and tacked it up beside the first one. “As you can see, the borders of Germany have expanded under the leadership of Adolf Hitler. The shaded areas of the map are countries that have been occupied by Germany.” Following the movement of her pointer, we could see that Germany had taken over not only our own country but also much of Europe. Next, Miss Szabo pointed to the map of North America. All of Europe could have fit into a corner of Canada or the United States.

The bell rang, and we began to gather up our books.

“One more minute, please,” said Miss Szabo. “As you know, every year students in my class participate in a writing contest. The winner this year will receive a framed certificate with his or her name on it. I will also display the winning entry on the wall for all of you to read. I want each one of you to choose a country you would like to live in. Explain the reasons for your choice in five or six pages. Even if you pick Hungary, you must explain the reasons for your choice. Any questions?”

General groans, but no hands were raised.

She smiled broadly. “Come on, you might even enjoy this assignment. I want you to hand it in two weeks from today. If there are no further questions, class is dismissed!”

Klari made her way to our desk.

“Nemeth is out of his mind! I'll come over to your house later, Jutka, to do our homework, but I've got to run now. I have a math test next period.”

Nobody else came near us.

Miri and I were the last to leave the room. As we passed her desk, Miss Szabo stopped us.

“I am very sorry for the humiliation you girls endured today,” she said, “but I have to go along with Principal Nemeth. I am on my own. I need my job to put food on the table. Can you understand?”

“Did they really make a law about where school kids are supposed to sit?”

“Listen and listen carefully. What I am going to tell you must stay between us,” she said. “There is no such law, but you must do as Principal Nemeth says. He is an ignorant man, but he is very powerful in the Arrow Cross. And you know what that means.”

We did. Members of the Arrow Cross party hated all Jews passionately.

The next morning, Mama appeared at the door of my room. She was wearing a blue dress with a small cloche perched on her head.

“Time to get up!” She pulled open the drapes. I peered at the alarm clock by my bedside and burrowed deeper into my pillows.

“Give me ten more minutes.” I had gone to bed late. Mama, Grandmama, and I had spent hours discussing
Principal Nemeth's orders. By the time we resigned ourselves to the fact that there was nothing we could do about it, it was midnight.

“Get dressed!” said Mama. “You must leave for school early because I am coming with you. I am going to have a word with Nemeth.”

I threw back the covers. “You can't, Mama! We agreed last night that I have to do as he says!”

“I couldn't sleep a wink,” said Mama. “I won't be able to live with myself if I don't speak to him.”

“You can't do that, Mama! You'll get me in trouble!”

“Don't be childish, Jutka,” she snapped. “He is not fair. The law is on our side. We'll go to the police if we have to. Get dressed!”

Mrs. Gombos, the gorgon guarding Principal Nemeth's door, stared at us coldly.

“What can I do for you, Mrs. Weltner?” she asked.

“Good morning, Mrs. Gombos,” said Mama. “We'd like to see Principal Nemeth.”

“The principal gave me express orders that he did not want to be disturbed.”

Mama drew herself up and said calmly, “We will not be leaving until we have seen him.”

The secretary snorted. She stomped into the principal's office. As she closed the door behind her, I had a glance of Nemeth in his chair, bent over a pile of papers on his desk.

Mrs. Gombos reappeared. “The principal refuses to see you.”

Mama grabbed my hand and pulled me toward Nemeth's door.

“You can't go in there!”

“Try to stop me!” Mama swung open the door. I was close on her heels.

Nemeth glanced up, his pen suspended in midair.

“Have you lost your mind, woman?” he roared.

“I am sorry, Principal, but we had to see you,” said Mama quietly. “My daughter told me that you ordered her and her friend to sit at the back of the class. We were hoping that you would change your mind and allow Jutka and Miri to move back to their regular seats.”

“How dare you question my authority!” He sprayed spittle.

Mama did not flinch or retreat. She raised her hands and wiped her face.

“We're not questioning your authority, Principal,” she said with immense dignity, “but please allow me to point out to you that there are no laws in Hungary that support your decision.” I only knew how upset Mama was by the damp patches her palms left against the light-blue material of her dress.

“I make the rules in my school! No Jew will tell me what to do,” Nemeth added, showering Mama's face again.

“Very well,” Mama said and turned to me. “Come, Jutka, we must inform the police of Principal Nemeth's actions.” When I swung the door open, I almost knocked over Mrs. Gombos.

“Go to the police, if you like!” Nemeth cried. “A lot of good it will do you! The police chief is my cousin.”

Mama was so angry that she could barely talk as we made our way to the police headquarters.

“Take it easy, Mama. I really don't care where I sit.” That wasn't true, but I wanted her to calm down. It broke my heart when I had to move to the back of the room, but I wished that I had never told Mama about it.

“The law is on our side,” she said.

The police station was a squat gray building at the end of Rakoczy Street. We climbed the worn steps. A large poster was taped to the heavy front door. Mama was about to enter, but I pulled on her arm.

“Let's read the notice first.”

The poster said:

No matter how many times we read the notice, the words did not change. From the next day onward, we would not be allowed to leave our homes without wearing a yellow star setting us apart.

“I don't believe it,” Mama said. “It's sad, so sad.”

I grabbed her hand. “Believe it! It's here in black and white. Surely you can see now that going to the police is stupid. If they make us wear a yellow star, they won't care if Nemeth makes us sit in the last row or on the roof.”

“You're right. If they are willing to do this” Mama pointed to the notice “then it would be useless to complain. I'm so sorry, darling.” She hugged me.

“Let's go home, Mama. Let's get out of here while we still can.”

“Where are we going to get the yellow material to make these stars? I don't wear yellow. It makes me look sallow.”

“The skirt Grandmama sewed for my birthday is the right shade of yellow.”

“Darling, no! Not your new skirt!”

“Grandmama can make me another skirt when the war is over. If I show up at school without a star, Nemeth will punish me for sure.”

I need not have worried. Early the next morning, a knock on the front door woke us up. It was Miri. She had come to tell us that new posters had appeared overnight on the town walls. Jewish students were no longer allowed to go to school.

Mama, Grandmama, and I sat around the kitchen table, coffee and toast untouched.

“You must keep up with your schoolwork,” said Grand-mama. “Klari will tell you what to read in your textbooks.”

Mama reached for her coffee cup and set it down again without drinking. “I'll help you.”

“I don't need help. I can do it by myself.”

“Fine, as long as you don't get behind.”

Grandmama stood up. “If neither of you wants breakfast, let's clear the table.”

Mama and I helped her wash the dishes. When we were done, Grandmama dried her hands.

“Go get your yellow skirt, Jutka,” she said.

The skirt was in my closet. I took it off the hanger and buried my face in the crisp material. I had planned to wear it in the summer. I went back to the kitchen and Grandmama pulled me close.