My Canary Yellow Star Read Online Free PDF Page B

Suddenly, sheleaned forward, grabbed my arm, and spat on the ground in front of me. I stared at her in shock until Peter pulled me away.
    We finally reached the little Café Peace, which was tucked into the basement of a large building between a boarded-up furrier and a shoemaker. We were the only customers. Even the tiny, forlorn tables with stained marble tops did not look as if they belonged there.
    Peter ordered two glasses of raspberry juice and we caught up with each other’s news. It was so good to have a sympathetic ear. With my hands clasped in front of me on the rickety table, I told Peter all about my work and Madam and Papa in Yugoslavia. I also told him how worried we were that we hadn’t heard from Papa for several weeks. I talked about our daily struggle to get enough food to eat. I mentioned the unfriendliness of our neighbors.
    “Were you shocked by the way the people in the street were behaving? Everything is so horrible! I can’t stand it any more!” I couldn’t have controlled the torrent of words even if I’d wanted to. And I didn’t want to. For some reason, it seemed important to make Peter understand what was happening to me. “I don’t know why our friends and neighbors have turned on us,” I continued. “We’ve never hurt them. I certainly haven’t! Hungary is my country too! I was born here just like you, and so were my parents and grandparents. Grandpapa Weisz was even decorated in the Great War. I have as much right to live here as anybody!”
    I tried to remain calm, but my voice was rising in anger and I was on the verge of tears. Peter patted my shoulder.
    “I don’t think it’s a good idea for you and me to be seen together in public places,” I told him. “It seems to upset everybody when they see that we’re friends. That’s why they make such cruel remarks.”
    “What about you, Marta? Do you still want to be my friend?” Peter asked. “That’s all that matters.”
    I nodded. My mute answer seemed to satisfy Peter. He reached over and squeezed my hand.
    “Would you like me to walk you home after work tomorrow? It’ll give us a chance to talk,” he suggested. “I’ll give a call to Ervin too.”
    “You forget – our phone was taken away weeks ago.”
    “What a nuisance. I’ll pop down to your place then. I’d have come before, but I’ve been studying for exams. I know how hard Ervin studies. He probably doesn’t want visitors.”
    “Nonsense. He has to take a break sometime.”
    “You’re right. So, Marta, do you want me to come for you at Madam’s?” he repeated. He turned a violent crimson once again.
    “I’d like that.” A sudden shyness made it impossible for me to look at him. “Peter, don’t tell anybody that we ran into each other – or that we’re going to be meeting tomorrow.”
    “Why not? We’re not doing anything wrong.”
    “Of course not. But you know Mama. Let’s do it my way for now‥”
    Peter looked troubled. “It doesn’t seem right to me. But all right, I’ll go along with you – just for now.”
    “Time to go!” I said, jumping up from the table and upsetting the flimsy chair I had been sitting on.
    Peter and I walked home, and nobody saw us arrive together at our apartment block. I was glad.
    I could smell the borscht as soon as I entered the apartment. Grandmama must have heard me come in, for she appeared in the doorway of the kitchen with a wooden spoon clutched in her hand. A large, flowery green-and-blue apron covered her neat navy dress. As usual, her hair was set in implacable gray waves, but she had loosened her collar in the warmth of the spring afternoon. I could see the heavy gold of the Star of David necklace that was usually hidden by her clothing. I was struck by how proud Grandmama was of her necklace and how ashamed we all were of our yellow stars. The necklace had been in our family for longer than anybody could remember. It was always worn by the oldest daughter. One day it would be mine, but