Yossi's Goal Read Online Free PDF Page B

way.
    Yossi took careful aim. His egg landed right in the middle of Max’s chest. Orange yolk and slimy white started oozing down the front of his new coat.
    Keeping hidden, Yossi peeked over the snowbank. Max was jumping up and down, flailing his arms, wriggling in disgust. “Ugh! Phew! Aagghh! Get it off me!”
    Yossi laughed to himself. How he longed to taunt Max Steiner as Max had taunted him! But he didn’t dare, in case Max found out who it was and Papa got in trouble.
    Quickly, before Max and the other boys could climb over the snowbank to see who their attackers were, Yossi gave a signal. He and his friends ran away, disappearing around the corner so quickly, it was as if they had never been there at all.

Chapter Six
    Papa’s cough got worse. At first he coughed only when he exerted himself, like when he climbed the stairs or walked in the cold. Then he coughed whenever he spoke. Soon he was coughing all the time.
    The cough changed from a wet rattle to a dry wracking cough that shook his body. All night Yossi lay stiff and tense on his mattress, listening to Papa’s violent hacking, and in the morning he was nearly as tired as Papa was.
    â€œSend for the doctor, Avram,” Mama said.
    Papa shook his head. “We can’t afford it. It’ll pass.” He coughed again.
    Then Papa began to run a fever. His eyes were glazed. He had no energy, no appetite. He dragged himself to work. He dragged himself back.
    One day he couldn’t get out of bed. He raised his head, gave a shuddering cough, and fell back. Mama motioned to Yossi. “Go for Dr. Rosenthal.”
    â€œWe can’t afford it,” Papa rasped.
    â€œWe’ll afford it!” she scolded. “I can’t afford to lose you!”
    Yossi ran.
    Dr. Rosenthal listened to Papa’s chest. He took his pulse, felt his neck and looked down his throat. “Pneumonia,” he pronounced. He looked at Papa. “You’re a garment worker, right?”
    Papa looked surprised. “How did you know?”
    â€œI see it all the time. Starts as an irritation from the dust and stale air, then grows into an infection.” Dr. Rosenthal shook his head. “Those sweatshops are breeding grounds for illness.”
    Papa flapped his hand as if dismissingDr. Rosenthal’s words, but Yossi remembered what Miriam had said about Mr. Steiner refusing to put in fans. And now Papa had gotten sick from working at the sweatshop!
    Dr. Rosenthal turned to Mama. “Plenty of liquids—tea, chicken broth, juice if you can get it. Sponge baths for the fever. And—,” he turned to Papa with a stern look, “—complete bed rest. No work until the fever and cough are completely gone.”
    â€œHow long?” Papa whispered.
    â€œHowever long it takes,” Dr. Rosenthal said as he left.
    The next morning, Papa was up at the usual hour.
    â€œWhat do you think you’re doing?” Mama cried.
    â€œGoing to work.”
    â€œThe doctor said bed rest!”
    â€œWe can’t afford for me to miss work.” He coughed, his shoulders shaking. “I’ll be all right.”
    â€œGet back in bed this minute!”
    Papa ignored her and headed down the stairs.
    An hour later, Yossi was at Steiner’s delivering a bundle of finished garments. There was a commotion on the other side of the packing room door, and a man bustled through. “Worker collapsed out there. The boss ain’t happy.”
    Yossi ran through the door before the supervisor could stop him. Papa lay on the floor beside his sewing machine. Daniel was cradling his head. Yossi helped Daniel sit Papa up. He was trembling and his skin was burning hot. They helped Papa to his feet. As they walked him out of the sweatshop, one of Papa’s arms draped over Daniel’s shoulders and the other over Yossi’s, Mr. Steiner was bellowing at the workers, who’d stopped their machines to watch, “What are you