“There’s Renata.” Stefan broke into Anna’s thoughts.
But why was she standing off by herself, across the
schoolyard? Didn’t she see them? “Renata!” Stefan
shouted. When Renata still did not move, Anna and
Stefan walked across the field to join her. “Didn’t you hear me?” Stefan asked when they got close.
Renata looked up, her eyes puffy and red. She
had been crying. Was that why she hadn’t waited
for Anna that morning? Was she avoiding her? This
time, even Stefan could see that something was
terribly wrong.
“What’s happened?” he exclaimed. “You don’t look
very good.”
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41
Renata shook her head and didn’t say a word.
“Are you sick?” he persisted. “Did Sabina say
something to you again?”
“No,” replied Renata hesitantly. “I’m not sick.”
“Renata, you have to talk to us.” Anna knew that
she had promised Renata not to betray her secret—
whatever it was. But enough was enough. “You can’t
keep acting as if something terrible has happened,
and then say nothing.”
Another moment passed before Renata finally
spoke, and when she did, her voice was so soft Anna
had to lean forward to hear her. “We’re leaving.”
Anna shook her head. “You’re what?”
“We’re going away.”
“Going where? Are you going on a holiday?” Even
as Stefan asked the question, Anna knew that wasn’t
possible. There were no school vacations coming up.
And no one missed school unless they were sick.
“We’re leaving for Denmark. We’re getting out of
here while we still can.”
And with that, the gears finally clicked into place
for Anna. Renata and her family were escaping, fleeing from signs that told Jews to stay away and from thugs on the street who might hurt them, and from whatever else was going to happen in Poland. That was the secret that Renata had been keeping to herself.
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K A T H Y K A C E R
“I’ve been telling you that my parents are afraid
things are going to get worse,” Renata said. “They
want to get out before that happens.”
Anna stood mutely. Even Stefan said nothing.
“It’s so complicated,” Renata said, squeezing her
eyes shut. “And it’s not easy to leave. It’s almost impossible these days for Jews to go anywhere in the
world.” She explained that without special papers, no one could leave their home country. “And there aren’t many countries in the world that want to let Jews
in. Did you even know that?” She stared deeply into
Anna’s eyes. Anna shook her head. Were they becom-
ing stuck here in Poland?
“My father thinks we should just stay put,” Stefan
jumped in. “He says the trouble will pass.”
Stefan was repeating himself. But this time, Anna
didn’t think he sounded convincing when he said the
last part. And she wasn’t convinced, either.
“I’m not sure how my parents got all the travel
documents. They’ve been keeping all of that from me, and they made me swear not to say a word to anyone.” She turned once more to Anna. “That’s why I
couldn’t say anything to you.” She stared deeply into Anna’s eyes as she said this.
“When are you leaving?” Anna croaked out this
question.
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43
“In a week.”
So soon!
“We’re only taking a few suitcases with us. I’ve
barely had any time to go through my things.”
Anna wondered how you could possibly pack
your whole life up and leave on a week’s notice. “I …
I don’t know what to say, Renata. You’re my best
friend.” Anna felt completely helpless in the face of Renata’s announcement.
“I’ll miss you so much, Anna,” Renata whispered.
“And you, Stefan.”
“I hope everything goes well for you, Renata,”
Stefan replied.
Anna was still searching for something to say. A
part of her wanted to beg Renata to stay. But another part wondered if Renata’s family was doing what they all should be doing—leaving while they could. “This
isn’t good-bye, Renata,” she finally blurted. “Not
yet.” Then, blinking back tears, she reached over and gave her friend a hug, not trusting herself to say
another word.
Chapter
7
When Anna arrived home from school, Baba was
putting groceries away in the kitchen. Anna slumped
down at the kitchen table and laid her head in her
arms. Baba was by her side in an instant.
“What’s wrong, Annichka? Are you not feeling
well?” Baba pressed her hand to Anna’s forehead.
“I’m fine, Baba.” Anna looked up at her grand-
mother. It was true that she never wanted to worry
Baba. She was wonderful, but mostly she just hovered in the background, ready to pop a bite of cake into
Anna’s mouth. Or ready to move in if Papa became
too strict with Anna about her prac ticing. It was
difficult to really talk to her. Still, Baba was like their guard dog, always on the lookout for trouble. She
may have been the quiet one, but she would know if
44
The Sound of Freedom
45
something was up. She might be the one to make
sense of this.
“I heard some bad news today,” Anna began.
Baba looked alarmed. “What news? Is someone
else sick?”
“No, no one is sick. It’s Renata. She told me that
she’s leaving Poland.”
“Leaving?”
Anna nodded. “For good. Her parents want to get
out before things get worse for Jews. They think that’s going to happen.”
Baba sucked in her breath and looked away.
“Baba, what do you think about the things that
have been happening lately?”
“Hmm?” Baba left Anna’s side and began mov-
ing around the kitchen, pulling out pots that she was going to use for that evening’s supper. “What things?”
“You know what I’m talking about. You know
what’s going on in the world. You heard Hitler on the radio the other night. Those things.” Baba may not
have been one for long conversations, but Anna knew
that she kept up with events in Poland and in neigh-
boring Germany. Sometimes Anna caught her reading
the newspaper late at night.
Baba glanced over at her. “There’s no reason to
worry,” she said. “Everything will be fine.” And then
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K A T H Y K A C E R
she brought the back of her right hand up to her
mouth and pretended to spit onto her fingers three
times, making a little popping sound: “Puh, puh,
puh.” Spitting three times was a Jewish superstition that was meant to prevent anything bad from happening. Baba did it all the time, whenever she men-
tioned anything good or bad. No matter what, you
didn’t want to encourage the evil spirits to appear.
“But what do you really think? Aren’t you afraid?”
Baba hesitated before speaking. That alone made
Anna nervous. She would have felt better if Baba had shouted “No!”
“I trust your father,” Baba finally said. “He will not let anything happen to us.”
Anna trusted him too. But she worried that even
Papa, with all his wisdom, was not seeing everything that was happening under their noses—or at least not admitting it.
“Baba,” she began, “I need to ask you about some-
thing, something that I saw a couple of weeks ago
when I went to the academy to meet Papa.”
Baba’s eyes grew fearful, as if she knew what was
coming. There was no stopping Anna now. She began
to tell her grandmother about her father’s extended
rehearsal that she had stumbled into. She told Baba
about Papa and the other Jewish musicians who had
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47
been relegated to a separate section of the orchestra.
“Only the Jewish musicians, Baba—no one else was
moved like that. Why would that happen?”
Baba looked away again.
“Did you even know about it?”
“Perhaps you should ask your father about this,”
Baba said, sighing deeply.
Anna would not be deterred. “No! I’m asking you.
Tell me what’s going on. Please!”
Baba sighed again. “Yes,” she finally said. “Your
father told me about this several weeks ago.”
Several weeks! Maybe even before what happened
at Mr. Kaplansky’s.
“They are calling them ghetto chairs,” Baba
continued.
Anna knew a little bit—not a lot—about ghettos.
Papa had once told her about a place in Italy where
Jews were kept in separate areas, apart from others, as if they weren’t good enough to be together. The
ghetto in Italy had been established hundreds of years earlier, but it sounded just like what had happened to Papa and the other Jewish musicians.
“It’s terrible that they should treat your father,
such a respected musician, in this way! It’s an insult to him—to all of us.” Baba moaned and looked up to
the skies as if she were begging for someone to help.
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K A T H Y K A C E R
“Why didn’t someone tell me?”
“A young person shouldn’t have to worry about
these things,” Baba replied.
“But I’m not a baby. And do you think if you don’t
say anything, then I won’t see what’s happening? I
see it, Baba. I listen to the radio. I read the newspaper.
I hear things at school.” Anna didn’t want to tell
her grandmother about Sabina’s warning. She had
said enough and heard enough, for now. “Sorry,
Baba,” she added, noting the distress on Baba’s face. “I don’t mean to shout. But I need to understand what’s going on.”
At that, Baba walked over to Anna and sat heavily
into a chair next to her. She reached over to pull her granddaughter in for a long hug. “You are so much
like your mother,” she said, whispering into Anna’s
ear. “You are smart, as she was, and you have a big
heart. She would be so proud of you.” Anna loved
hearing this. She loved it when anyone compared her
to her mother, whom she missed more than she could
say. Like her mother, Anna had thick curly hair that was framed against porcelain skin and eyes as big
and round as full moons. Sometimes Papa told her
that she was looking more and more like her mother
with each passing day.
Baba released Anna and stood up, returning to
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49
her pots and food preparation. “As long as we stay
together as a family, then nothing bad will happen
to us,” she said. Then she spit three more times onto her fingers. Anna stood up from the kitchen table
and headed for her bedroom. She wasn’t sure if Baba
could really keep the evil spirits away. They felt closer than ever.
Chapter
8
In her room, Anna flopped down on her bed
and gazed at the wall where a number of pressed
and framed flowers were hanging. After her clarinet, these pressed flowers were Anna’s most important
treasure. She had been collecting flowers for years, pressing them between her father’s big music text-books and mounting them on heavy paper. Papa had
framed the ones on her wall. He called them little
works of art. Anna wasn’t sure about that, but she did think they were beautiful. Each flower had come from a special place: a pink carnation that her father had given her when she turned twelve, a lily from Renata’s garden when they used to play there after school,
and a rose she had taken, with Baba’s permission,
from the pots of flowers that she grew in front of the 50
The Sound of Freedom
51
house. But her favorite flowers in the collection were two red poppies. Their color was so vibrant that they practically glowed on her wall. She had found these
during a family holiday to the mountains when her
mother was still alive. Usually, when Anna focused
on her flower collection, she could lose herself in the memory of those happy times. But this afternoon,
the sight of her flowers did nothing to ease her
troubled mind.
Mr. Kaplansky’s store, Papa and his ghetto chairs,
any worse? Or, like a passing storm, would all of
this blow over and life return to normal? Stefan
had said that his family believed that the trouble in Poland would pass. Renata’s family thought things
were so bad they should leave. Who was right?
And what did all of this mean for Anna? And then
another thought hit her. Even if they did leave, where would they go? Renata had said it was difficult to get the papers needed to get out of Poland. But she also said that few countries anywhere were willing to take in Jews. Oh, if only Anna had a crystal ball that could show her the future, show her what they should do.
That evening, the family sat together in the sit-
ting room after dinner. Music from the phonograph
played softly in the background. It was a lullaby by
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K A T H Y K A C E R
Chopin, or maybe Mozart; Anna wasn’t sure which.
Papa was drinking some tea and reading the news-
paper. Baba was stitching together some pieces of
fabric for a tablecloth she was making. And Anna
was doing her homework. The truth was she was not
getting very far in the book she had been assigned to read. She had been staring at the very same page for nearly half an hour. She really didn’t want to think about homework and school. Thinking about school
reminded her too much of the fact that Renata was
going to be leaving in a few days. Anna hadn’t told
her father about Renata yet. It was something she
could barely face herself.
“Here’s something that you might be interested
in,” Papa said, breaking into Anna’s thoughts. He
lowered his glass of tea and leaned forward. “Do you remember that concert we were starting to listen to on the radio a few weeks ago? We never got to hear the
whole thing.”
Remember? How could I forget? That was the night the horrible news announcement had come on the
air, the one with Adolf Hitler screaming those hateful messages
to the world.
“I started to tell you that the violinist was a
famous musician named Bronislaw Huberman. Well,
you’ll never guess, but I just read that he is coming to Poland.”
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53
“What a coincidence,” said Baba. “Is he coming to
Krakow? I would love to hear him play.”
“So would I,” Papa replied. “But he’s not here to
give a concert. He’s actually coming to recruit musicians for a new orchestra that he is putting together.”
“A new orchestra in Poland?” Practically every
major city in their country had an orchestra. Anna
couldn’t understand why they would need another
one.
“Actually, this orchestra is being formed in the
British Mandate of Palestine.”
Anna knew little about Palestine except that it was
very far away.
“Mr. Huberman is holding auditions for the
orchestra.”
The news of a new orchestra and these auditions
didn’t interest Anna very much until Papa said, “He’s inviting Jewish musicians to try out.”
At that, Anna sat up in her chair. “I don’t under-
stand. Why only Jewish musicians, Papa?”
Her father knit his brow together. “I’m not sure.
I imagine that these musicians will accompany Mr.
Huberman to Palestine.”
At first, Anna wasn’t sure she had heard right.
Had Papa actually said that Jewish musicians were
being given the chance to leave Poland for this far-
away place called Palestine? All they had to do was
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K A T H Y K A C E R
audition for this Mr. Huberman and get into his or-
chestra? Anna sat farther up in her chair, her mind
going a mile a minute. An idea was taking shape, the pieces coming together like a jigsaw puzzle. Perhaps this was the sign she had been searching for. And it had been handed to her like a gift on her birthday.
She didn’t have a crystal ball to look into the future.
But maybe, just maybe, this new orchestra in this faraway Palestine was an opportunity that her family
could not pass up, a signal that they should also pack up and get out, just like Renata.
Papa needed to audition for this orchestra. And if
he got in, and Anna was certain he would, then her
family would have a chance to leave. And it would all be thanks to this musician named Mr. Huberman.
“You’re going to audition, aren’t you, Papa?” Anna