Let Me Whisper You My Story Read Online Free PDF Page A

heard her say.
    The apartment also smelt like the inside of a garbage bin. It was the ugliest place I had ever seen. I thought of our living room with its warm carpet. Had Mama brought our candle holders and candles along? I hoped so. We must have our Sabbath service.
    What was it that Mama had said? As long as we were together we would make a home anywhere. I hoped she was right. Two families living in such a small space would trip over each other.
    There were two bedrooms, each bedroom very tiny. Eight of us bundled together in such a small place. I had to find a wardrobe. Ah, there was a wardrobe in one of the bedrooms. I opened the door and the musty smell was overpowering. When we unpacked and put our clothing inside, the smell would go, and it would be replaced with the smell of my family’s clothing. I would still have my safe place to be alone.
    ‘Hey, you’re skinnier than ever. I’ve seen fatter worms.’ Agnes, my irritating cousin, stood there, her arms folded as she stared at me, blue eyes set in her thin, bird-like face. ‘Why are you looking inside the wardrobe, Rachel?’
    ‘So that I can lock you in it and throw away the key.’
    We poked our tongues out at each other, and then I started laughing.
    ‘You look like a lizard, Agnes.’
    ‘You look like a skinny worm with a tongue.’
    Miri had also been exploring. She seated herself on a threadbare armchair and took out her journal and began to write quickly. ‘Hey, be quiet, you two. I want to be a writer one day, and I’m starting with this journal.’
    Agnes scowled then pressed her nose against the window, her eyes scanning the street below.
    ‘Wouldn’t you rather be a movie star, or marry a prince and become a princess?’ I asked her.
    ‘Silly. Jewish girls never marry princes. And no, I don’t want to be a movie star. That’s not for me.’
    ‘Will you read me what you write, Miri?’ I asked.
    ‘No, you’re too young. I’m a serious writer. You wouldn’t like what I write.’
    ‘Please read it to me, Miri. I am suffering from awful sadness because this place is so ugly.’
    Miri lifted her journal in line with her head so I couldn’t see her face as she read out loud:
There are two toilets at the end of the hall, which everyone on our floor has to share. Water appears intermittently from a broken tap in the kitchen. In the kitchen which is really just part of a small living room is an old stove with two gas rings. There is a washroom with a yellow stained bath and no hot water. Floorboards groan as if the weight of us all is an assault on its old age. I have tested the lights and the electricity works on and off according to its mood.
    ‘It’s not very interesting so far, Miri. I hope it gets better. I’ll be your audience. Will you read me everything you write?’ I asked her.
    ‘Hmm. Maybe. As long as you sit still.’ Miri chewed on her pencil and then started writing again.
    ‘There are more people arriving,’ said Agnes as she left her spot by the window.
    Mama and Aunty Gitta discussed the state of the apartment. ‘We need to shake dust out of everything,’ Mama said. ‘Why didn’t I bring my broom? All I have is this pan and brush. I can’t live in such filth.’
    There was a screech from Agnes. ‘A mouse. I saw a mouse in the kitchen. No, it was too big to be a mouse. I think it was a rat. I can’t stand this.’
    Agnes threw herself onto the floor, a dangerous place to be if there really was a rat around.
    ‘Agnes, stop that tantrum,’ said Aunty Gitta.
    ‘It’s not a tantrum. I just want to go back home.’ Agnes scrunched her face and began to cry.
    ‘Me too,’ I added.
    ‘We all want to go back home,’ said Mama quietly. ‘And one day we will, you wait and see.’
    Agnes got up from the floor and wiped tears from her face with the back of her hand. ‘You don’t understand.’
    She muttered for a while then suggested that she style my wavy hair. This was the first good idea she’d had. I sat on a