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Authors: Marsha Forchuk Skrypuch
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me stand out too.
I’m not quite sure what else she taught us that morning. All I could think about was getting home so I could change my clothes and comb out my hair. How I wished I could change my accent!
I dutifully copied down the things that Miss Ferris wrote on the board and I murmured thanks under my breath when she didn’t call on me to say anything more. After what seemed like too many hours, a bell rang. I watched the others put their workbooks away. Thank goodness. My torture was over.
I closed up my books and shoved them into the desk and then followed the other students out the door. Linda, the one friendly student, was close behind me. As soon as the freshness of the outside air hit my face I felt a sense of relief. It had been like a prison in there. I began to walk out of the schoolyard and towards my house.
Linda trotted beside me and tugged on my arm. “You can’t leave school property!”
I turned to her in confusion. The bell had rung, after all. “But the bell … ”
Her mouth widened in its gap-toothed smile. “That was just the recess bell. You can’t go home until the lunch bell.”
“I cannot stay here.”
“They’ll send the truant officer after you!”
“The what?” I asked.
“The police. You can’t go home during school.”
Even the thought of police didn’t stop me from leaving. Linda stood at the edge of the schoolyard with shock on her face, but I kept on going, picking up speed as I got farther from the school. The dressy shoes pinched at my heels, but I didn’t slow down. By the time I got to our house I had a stitch in my side. I flipped the welcome mat at the front door and grabbed the key, opened the door and hurried in.
I had rarely been in the house alone and was struck by its eerie quiet. It was almost like the house was watching me with silent disapproval. I kicked off my shoes and ran upstairs, taking comfort in the sound of my feet thumping against the wooden steps. I threw myself onto the bed, punching my pillow in anger. How could I go back to that school? The other children hated me.
I shrieked at the top of my lungs and that felt good because only the house could hear me and I could be as miserable as I wanted. Once the tears began, they wouldn’t stop. I cried out of pity for myself as the new kid at school. I cried in anger for feeling so helpless. Butmostly I cried out of shame for the girl that I must have been in the past. Did I really belong here? Was I a Nazi? Maybe I didn’t deserve to be safe. Where
did
I belong?
I don’t know how long I cried, but my eyes got so puffy I could barely open them. I looked down at the beautiful outfit that Marusia had made me and realized that it was now wrinkled and damp. What an ungrateful, horrible person I was. How would Marusia feel about me now? Would she send me back to that other family, the one I had tried to push out of my memory?
I unbuttoned the blouse and tried to shake out the wrinkles. I hung it on a hanger and put it on the hook at the back of my door. I undid the skirt and stepped out of it, being careful not to damage it further. I folded it and smoothed out the wrinkles with my hands and then carefully set it in my top dresser drawer. I took out the oldest skirt and blouse that I could find and put that on instead. “It’s all you deserve, you ungrateful thing.”
It was
my
voice saying it, but it sounded like something I had heard long ago. I tried to undo my braids. I was able to get the elastics out from the bottom, but I couldn’t undo the elaborate knot on the top of my head because Marusia had wrapped my braids together so tightly with the big white bow. My arms ached from the effort. I lay back down on the bed. I wanted to sleep, but couldn’t, so I stared at the ceiling.
A scene from my past slid into my mind …
The men were separated from the women. I stood on my toes to see where they were going but it was too crowded. I thought of that girl in the yellow dress with the
I’m not quite sure what else she taught us that morning. All I could think about was getting home so I could change my clothes and comb out my hair. How I wished I could change my accent!
I dutifully copied down the things that Miss Ferris wrote on the board and I murmured thanks under my breath when she didn’t call on me to say anything more. After what seemed like too many hours, a bell rang. I watched the others put their workbooks away. Thank goodness. My torture was over.
I closed up my books and shoved them into the desk and then followed the other students out the door. Linda, the one friendly student, was close behind me. As soon as the freshness of the outside air hit my face I felt a sense of relief. It had been like a prison in there. I began to walk out of the schoolyard and towards my house.
Linda trotted beside me and tugged on my arm. “You can’t leave school property!”
I turned to her in confusion. The bell had rung, after all. “But the bell … ”
Her mouth widened in its gap-toothed smile. “That was just the recess bell. You can’t go home until the lunch bell.”
“I cannot stay here.”
“They’ll send the truant officer after you!”
“The what?” I asked.
“The police. You can’t go home during school.”
Even the thought of police didn’t stop me from leaving. Linda stood at the edge of the schoolyard with shock on her face, but I kept on going, picking up speed as I got farther from the school. The dressy shoes pinched at my heels, but I didn’t slow down. By the time I got to our house I had a stitch in my side. I flipped the welcome mat at the front door and grabbed the key, opened the door and hurried in.
I had rarely been in the house alone and was struck by its eerie quiet. It was almost like the house was watching me with silent disapproval. I kicked off my shoes and ran upstairs, taking comfort in the sound of my feet thumping against the wooden steps. I threw myself onto the bed, punching my pillow in anger. How could I go back to that school? The other children hated me.
I shrieked at the top of my lungs and that felt good because only the house could hear me and I could be as miserable as I wanted. Once the tears began, they wouldn’t stop. I cried out of pity for myself as the new kid at school. I cried in anger for feeling so helpless. Butmostly I cried out of shame for the girl that I must have been in the past. Did I really belong here? Was I a Nazi? Maybe I didn’t deserve to be safe. Where
did
I belong?
I don’t know how long I cried, but my eyes got so puffy I could barely open them. I looked down at the beautiful outfit that Marusia had made me and realized that it was now wrinkled and damp. What an ungrateful, horrible person I was. How would Marusia feel about me now? Would she send me back to that other family, the one I had tried to push out of my memory?
I unbuttoned the blouse and tried to shake out the wrinkles. I hung it on a hanger and put it on the hook at the back of my door. I undid the skirt and stepped out of it, being careful not to damage it further. I folded it and smoothed out the wrinkles with my hands and then carefully set it in my top dresser drawer. I took out the oldest skirt and blouse that I could find and put that on instead. “It’s all you deserve, you ungrateful thing.”
It was
my
voice saying it, but it sounded like something I had heard long ago. I tried to undo my braids. I was able to get the elastics out from the bottom, but I couldn’t undo the elaborate knot on the top of my head because Marusia had wrapped my braids together so tightly with the big white bow. My arms ached from the effort. I lay back down on the bed. I wanted to sleep, but couldn’t, so I stared at the ceiling.
A scene from my past slid into my mind …
The men were separated from the women. I stood on my toes to see where they were going but it was too crowded. I thought of that girl in the yellow dress with the
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