Someone Named Eva Read Online Free

away. Nearby sat her grandmother and aunt. Our widowed neighbor Mrs. Kucera was on the other side of Terezie. Across the gym I saw my teacher from last year, and near her was Zelenka with her three sisters and their mother, sitting against one of the walls. Ruzha sat with her aunt on a blanket near Zelenka, looking pale and tired.
    "They can't arrest all of us," Mrs. Hanak said to her neighbor. "For what crime?" she asked to no one in particular.
    Terezie's mama pleaded with a guard as he patrolled near our space, his gun held ready. "Please, sir, what has happened to my husband? When will I be able to see him again?"
    He responded in clipped German without looking at her, his eyes continuing to sweep the gym. I turned to see if Mama had heard. A thin smile crossed her face, and she translated for me.
    "All the men are being held at a work camp. We will go soon to join them."
    Soon. That was what the guard had said. Soon I could see Papa and Jaroslav, and we would all be together again.
    "None of us are Jews," Mrs. Janecek whispered loudly, trying to get one of us to talk to her. Her three children, all boys older than Jaro, had been left behind with her husband. She was alone. "Do they know this?" Her voice rose in pitch, and her eyes darted from side to side. "We are not Jews. Why are they taking us away?"
    "Hush, Helena, hush." One of her neighbors patted her hand. "Hush. It will be fine. Don't start trouble. Please, please. It will be fine."
    The hours passed slowly. I tried to hurry them by counting things; how many windows were at the top of the gym; how many basketballs sat on shelves along one wall; how many doors led outside; how many Nazi soldiers patrolled the rows of women and children.
    Almost fifty soldiers walked among us, different ones from the night before. These men didn't look like small boys playing soldier. They were older, and they carried their guns differently. Their expressions were fixed more firmly on their faces, their eyes more focused and alert.
    The sounds of women and children whispering and babies fussing echoed around us. If I closed my eyes, I could almost pretend we were at a church picnic or a school festival, rather than being held prisoner in a gym. But then I would hear someone crying or catch the scent of hay and open my eyes again to what was really happening.
    Babichka continued to pray, using her crystal rosary beads. Her dress hung wrinkled on her small frame, and pieces of gray hair had begun to escape her bun. Anechka seemed unaware of the fearful things happening around her. She played patty-cake with Mama, who kept smiling and telling me everything would be fine. I smiled back, but I could see the tightness in her mouth, the worry in her eyes.
    Terezie's mother joined Mama on the blanket, and they whispered back and forth to each other, their eyes avoiding both Terezie's and mine. I sat next to Terezie on her blanket, and we talked about what we were going to do when we were allowed to go back home.
    "I'm going to change clothes," Terezie whispered, "and then go for a long bicycle ride."
    "That sounds nice," I said. I liked the thought of riding free through the streets of Lidice on a bicycle instead of sitting in a gym on a blanket. "I think I'll do the same."
    "I'll come get you and we can go together," Terezie said, nudging me with her elbow as I smiled at her.
    "Yes. Then we'll make some more plans for your party. We haven't decided on dessert yet."
    "I want a cake, a chocolate cake," Terezie said.
    "That would be nice. We'll find the sugar somehow," I said, and Terezie nodded, smiling back at me.
    ***
    No one ventured far from their blanket or assigned spot. Children stayed close to their mamas, and everyone sat waiting. We were frozen in that gym like some sort of photograph, unable to do anything except wait until we could return to our homes and see our fathers and brothers again.
    I wanted to hug Papa hard, harder than I ever had. I wanted to feel the roughness of his