Skating with the Statue of Liberty Read Online Free Page B

France hiss
“juifs,”
the same tone of voice in which Germans spat out
“Juden.”
He hadn’t thought he would hear that particular mixture of repulsion and smug superiority here in America. But he had. The woman had muttered “Jews.”
    Nausea rose in Gustave’s throat. Jean-Paul was staring out the window. Across the aisle, Maman and Aunt Geraldine were soothing Giselle, who had woken up cranky. Either they hadn’t heard or they hadn’t understood.
    The train rumbled onward, through the night. The wheels clacked rhythmically, energetically in the darkness. Gradually Gustave’s eyes closed, but for hours he wasn’t quite sure whether he was asleep or awake, until the loudspeaker crackled.
    “Ne-e-e-e-e-e-w Yawk!” the conductor roared. “Penn Station!”
    Lugging his two heavy bags, feeling exhausted and grimy, Gustave stumbled out behind the grown-ups into the vast, crowded brilliance of the train station. It was warmly lit and echoing, a blur of light and noise, even in the middle of the night. He glanced around, but he saw no sign of any further baggage checks. No sign of the FBI. Everyone seemed to be travelling somewhere or waiting for someone.
    Papa’s voice rang out joyfully. “Cousin Henri! CousineThérèse!” He hurried toward an elderly couple. Gustave paused at a newsstand, trying to decipher the English headlines of the newspapers on display—something about ships, something about Japan—but the others were getting too far ahead. He hurried to catch up with them, the suitcases he was carrying banging painfully against his legs.
    The tall, stout man and slight, gnarled woman Papa was embracing looked almost like Americans, Gustave thought, but there was still something French about them. Maybe it was the pattern of the silk scarf Cousine Thérèse had knotted around her neck. He had a flash of memory from a day long ago. He was much younger and eating ice cream with some of Papa’s visiting relatives at a café in France by a blindingly blue sea. Deep purple ice cream, he remembered suddenly. It had dripped and stained his shirt.
Cassis
ice cream. Black currant. His favorite. He hung back now, watching the adults embrace.
    “And this tall young man must be Gustave!” Cousin Henri’s voice boomed. Gustave felt his hand in the elderly man’s large, warm grip and looked up into his friendly face. “
Bienvenue!
Welcome to the United States!”

5
    I n the morning, at Cousin Henri’s apartment, the adults made plans over breakfast. Cousine Thérèse was going to take Papa, Maman, and Aunt Geraldine to meet with some people at HIAS, the Hebrew Immigrant Aid Society, to get help with apartments and jobs and to find out about night school. Cousin Henri offered to take charge of Jean-Paul and Gustave.
    “What do you say, boys?” Cousin Henri asked. “While your parents deal with the boring stuff, do you want to go up the Empire State Building with me? See how your new city looks from the top of the tallest building in the world?”
    “Sure!” said Gustave and Jean-Paul together.
    “You’re lucky!” Papa said. “First things first for the grown-ups.”
    As everyone got ready to leave, Gustave caught Papa in the hall, where he was waiting for a turn in the bathroom. “Will you ask those HIAS people if they can helpfind Marcel and get him and his mother out of France?” he whispered urgently.
    Papa hesitated. “I’ll see what I can do. It depends on what the organization is like. Go—have a good time with your cousin.”
    Jean-Paul and Cousin Henri were in the kitchen with their coats on.
    “Look at this, boys.” Cousin Henri poured pills from a medicine bottle into his palm. “You know what these are made of? Gold! I take them for my arthritis.” He winked and took a pill with a big swig of water as the boys stared.
    “I can’t believe they make pills out of gold in this country!” Gustave whispered to Jean-Paul as he put on his coat. “People here must be so rich!”
    Outside,